Meet our infant son, baby Rae

Finally, a baby has entered our home. His name is JiaRae. Nicknamed RaeRae. But grandma's favorite is Rae Jai.

My private moment with my 2-weeks-old son

2-minutes-old Baby Rae straight out of the womb and out of the delivery theatre. Born preterm at week 36, but fortunately his wails told us he was fully matured, and healthy at 3kg.

1-hour-old Baby Rae cleaned and swaddled. And in mommy's favorite kitty cap.

1-week-old Baby Rae being burped by Dino dad. Baby's eyes are opened but not seeing, though miraculously his eyes met the camera.

Now at 19-days-old, RaeRae's features are more profound and distinctive. Boy! Isn't he a handsome baby?

"Dear Raerae, with your arrival, mommy and daddy can close the trying-to-conceive chapter of our lives, simply because our twenty-four-sevens are dedicated to answering your wails, changing nappy, burping you, bathing you, and when you are deeply asleep, we watched endearingly with hearts so filled, and warm, we no longer feel the void existed."

And to all who have been following this blog, thank you for reading. I hope the best to you all.

Signing off,

Dino mom

Final farewell to baby xiao lung lung

For the 3rd time i requested Dr to ultrasound - before being pushed into the operation theatre - to make sure my baby was really demised. And there the beannie stayed, dark and motionless, despite dire prayers and mountain-willful of mental power to will life back to my tiny beannie. I consented the Therapeutic D&C procedure and closed my eyes to close this short-lived chapter of bliss.

when i opened my eyes again

i listened to my own heartbeat

reminded me of the first time daddy and i saw the flicker of your heartbeat on the black & white screen

soundless, blurry, but unmistakenly alive and perpetually beating

now i sat quietly reminiscing

not wanting anyone interrupting

hurdling together in the strongest embrace

yet can’t fight loosing you from our fate

inside, emotions were rioting

yet there was no words to explain

time has morphed into unrelenting slitting grief

stopping me to remember the short-lived bliss

tearing forcefully at our mutual dependency

on the day you left my womb at week 8

felt like i was blowing out my last breath

like i felt so much wanting to alight to the sky

to capture you back and tell you everything’s all right

but strength failed us as daddy and I are a wreck

holding blindly to your ultrasound prints like pieces of rag

now i sat quietly pondering

admist searching for a sliver of knowing what took you from me

restropecting the folds of my careless sights

did i not eat proper and care for you right?

grandmother blamed my trip to india a fortnight ago was not right

mother-in-law blamed my neighbor's construction work came the wrong time

or haven’t i the right to deserve you in my life?

but known that i won’t find the answer forthcoming

cause the doctor himself knew not a thing

now i sat quietly, steeling up to after i faced the cold spade on Thursday

thinking to keep you, my eight-weeks-old beannie, inside me more days

so i could still call myself pregnant every day though you’re dead

now i sat quietly choking back fire tears that’s not mean to cry

more like galled, acidic shoutouts to all Almighty in the sky

asking what right have you to rip me of what’s mine

we have never once seen your work of miracles in our life

so from now on gods will just be a lie

now i sat quietly, looking, but seeing nothing

as the anesthetic separating us permanently fast ticking

forcing me out of oblivion to face a brand new struggle

what’s new, when the same has been repeatable

only rehashing and refueling my passionate anger

erupting bitterness when crossing path with expectant mothers

heart catching fire when friends pop their bundle of joy

only to make my therapist richer

now i sat quietly, thinking when will my sky lift its curtain?

This will be my last post on this blog. The time has come for me to call it quit. To end this struggle of 5 years. Enough money's been splashed on a project that gave no returns, but sorrow and misery. And we are too tired.

There must be a better life calling ahead, one that is going to need hubby and i contributing in ways that we can give as an independent and strong childless couple. I am hopeful to see that road when i eventually lift the veil of this grieving period.

WE SAW OUR BABY FOR THE FIRST TIME!

WE SAW OUR BABY!

WE SAW OUR BABY!

WE SAW BABY'S HEARTBEAT! B

BEATING STRONG!

AND BABY IS 6W-2D-OLD!

FINALLY!!!! THE BABY'S HERE!!!

WE ARE EUPHORIC; TOO HAPPY TO CRY

Corgie passed away

The cutest dog in the Dino household, Corgie, has passed away sometime at dawn of Oct 7, 2011.

Dino dad and i almost got heart arrest to discover her motionless lying by the wall of the patio table, her tongue black and dropped out of her gaped mouth; her eyes were not even closed.

The night before she had been spotted with palpable enlarged stomach. She wouldn't eat her dinner - the first time. We knew something was very wrong. We even decided to rush her to the vet early next morning for scan. But she didn't last the night.

Vet suggested she died of GDV (Gastric dilatation-volvulus), also known as 'twisted stomach'. We've always prided ourselves the better pet owners who are quite knowledgable in dog-cat medical and behavior studies. But when it came to Corgie's case, we were acting like idiots, not having a clue of the sight of Corgie's condition in the last few hours before she died.

Another possibility the vet had suggested was heart attack. Last moment, i'd decided to call off the post-mortem, thinking whatever that had took her life must be either if these two possibilities.

Corgie has never had any health problem since the first year she came to our house through a friend who had caught her wandering in the street heedlessly. She was estimated to be no more than 1 year old when she entered our life: white, short, fluffy and her signature round brown patch on her white back. we even nicknamed her 'Japanese piggy'. Our neighbor also thought her breed is 'pig-dog' (猪仔狗). Hilarious, but adorable.

The first six months after her arrival, our house turned into a huge green cage, literally. She was peak on heat, trying everything to climb out through every little inch of chance she spotted. She would even pull out the nail on the wall using her nose and mouth so the plastic fence - we've erected temporary after discovering her outside the house when we got home from work one day - be wide enough for her to slip out. Through out her heat, there were at least 3 incidents, through ways we were still baffled until today how she'd did it, she was found outside wandering, so the security guard had informed us. Smart, wasn't she?

She was very intelligent. Perhaps the previous owner had had trained her - a pure breed corgi couldn't have been born stray - she responded to training very well. As mentioned in her breed guide, she had attentive eyes to owners - the one-owner type. So caring for you is most easy, though we had a little challenge in changing her one-dog-alpha mentally when she met our other older dogs Pepsi and Beagle, that are double her size. Plus, she loved picking at her food, throwing out foods which were less favorable and making her eating place messy with. And she loved attacking the cats' food bowl when we turned our backs.

So, her face was always a picture of sunny day, that sweetest smiling face when panting (she always panted), big bat years fronting and super super fast feet during jogging time.

6 years on, all bad habits had been successful changed and she'd recognized her fourth place in Dino's hierarchy of dominance, everything went well except her hyperactive trait. Too active, in fact. Every action was always an excitement; fast and snappy and lightning speed. Even waking from her sleep was like a spring. Truly justified her ancestral lineage of a hunting breed. We told ourselves that we must be prepared one day she might collapse with an heart attack when she gets older.

This year her left hind leg started limping occasionally. We thought a few things: hip dysplasia, prolapse disc (prone to long bodies dog) and long nail growth that made jogging uncomfortable. Only recent month she slowed a lot during jog time, even totally stopped to rest mid way. Concerned, we decided to bring her to vet for a whole full body checkup. Plus to clean her teeth.

One thing about Corgi, respite an A+ doggie, was her reluctance to let a fourth person - after me, Dino dad and my older sister - approach. So, vet always has an issue coming near her. Vaccination day was always quite a drama. On the morning of Oct 7, we took her to her vet. As usual, she struggled like hell in Dino dad's arm. Because this time the doc needed to test her knee cap, Corgie was muzzled and clamped down. Now thinking back, she might have struggled too assertively (almost 5 minutes). After coming home, she was seen fine the whole afternoon. Only started to shun food and breathing hard and drink quite often during night time.

We could see she wasn't comfortable that night - and stupid us didn't come across it to be the onset of heart attack of GDV. We even ruled in kidney failure - so Dino dad stayed up with her on the couch till 1am, all the time resolute to bring her to vet first thing the next morning.

Corgie didn't last the night. While slept, she breathed her last breath downstairs. She might have whined, but i think it was better we didn't see her go. Because it would be devastating for us, being helpless in the middle of night in a country where animal emergency care was not an option; in a Muslim country where dogs have no place.

Corgie weighted only 8kg when we sent her off for cremation. She used to weigh 10kg; she was only 6kg when we first took her in - the same weigh as our biggest tuxedo cat, Dharma. Today, her urn has been buried under the tree across our house, where she'd liked to wee wee whenever we let her out supervised.

Her sudden death devastated us momentarily. But we were surprised we could recoup fast - though each memory and photo of her brings tear to our eyes. We are thinking maybe we haven't pulled the plug, liked we did to our 'big fella' Beagle - lost his tail bone to bone cancer in just two months and Coffee, the big wolfie golden Husky-like dog, in her fight with bladder cancer. Throughout our lives, we have pulled the plugs of quite a number of strays we've rescued and had no chance of survival. Each time that happen, confusing emotion - did we did the right thing tumult - would plague for months. For Corgie's case, she passed on herself and the duration was only an overnight. She might have suffered the last few hours, the consolation is that death came quick, unlike Beagle and Coffee.

Also maybe we have reached a junction in life we are feeling tired of keeping pets. We have cared for over 20 cats (died and still living) and 8 or 9 dogs (some managed to rehome). With Corgie's deceased, Pepsi, our 14-year-old mongrel, is the last surviving 'daughter' in the house. We've seen and cried over and buried too many deaths. I think it is time we take a breather. Which also means sorry to the future dogs and cats, if they happen to cross our path, as we won't be helping them much. We've decided long ago that the best we would be doing is to rehome them or to hand over to NGOs.

I still cannot face my friend's newborn

Through my facebook, I've learned my friend has finally given birth to her first baby a month ago. The baby girl is celebrating her full moon now. The newborn is perfect in every way a baby should be: fair, pinkish, chubby, bright eyes - and a full crown. Maybe takes on from mommy.

What is it to me? Simple. She's a friend i've known for over 10 years. She lives two rows from my house. If my first-ever-pregnancy hadn't been an ectopic, mine would be just a week behind her daughter's full moon. And i still cannot bring myself to walk over her house to congratulate her personally. That's the deal.

So i've chickened out and wished her through facebook instead; blending in among her many facebook friends. But i stay so near her house and yet i hide behind an electronic message.

For days i've contemplated: to go over or not to go. At one time, i'd got up and said, "Die, die la. Just go over and stay for 5-minutes" and derive an excuse of phantom appointment with other friends and then leave. Easy right? Just didn't happen. Couldn't get my feet into my shoes and stepped out the gate.

In my mind i was afraid of emotional turmoil the moment i set my sight on the little pink mittens waiving in mid air rocking in her little bouncer. Oh hell, of course i don't want to show my weakness outside the safety of my own home. I mean who'd care if this woman had lost her only successful concept to an ectopic; who'd care if this woman had been struggling with unexplained infertility for 3 years; who'd care if this woman has failed her therapy with the counselor. There are countless women outside my self-absorbed world who can conceived as easily as cracking open a peanut and manage children with career as easily as putting a car out of the porch to the nearest hypermarket.

My counselor has told me my decision to stay away from this new-mom-girlfriend is validated. She said it is okay for me if i am not ready to meet the newborn. Told me to ignore people's thinking i'm rude for not visiting when it's just 2 rows from my house.

But i am a high disciplined person. I champion people with good manners. I encourage younger people to be conscious of other people's welfare. I even intend to teach my god-son (my nephew), when he's a little older, what proper good-human ethics should be. Considering all that, i have not do the simplest manner by dragging my ass over to my friend's house for a simple 'Congratulation! You are now a proud mommy of a beautiful princess'.

I am so torn. I've told myself to stay away from pregnant people as long as i haven't strength my psychology against this issue. I have set my mental GPS to stir clear of pregnant people's path - even moms' path - in my radar, unless the pregnant woman or new mom has something beneficial to share with me like some medical stuff she'd tried that had contributed this successful pregnancy or that stuff she ate, or that doctor she'd seen or even that sex pattern she'd attempted. Or simply to share some real time hearing my grieve if she'd willing. Otherwise, i definitely live better without forcing myself to pretend 'ahh, how nice' or 'how exciting you're pregnant' or 'you're glowing' other shit stuffs like that that come out of my horned sales-mouth while my heart constricting the whole time.

Few days back, when i read about Guliana Rancic has been diagnosed with early stage breast cancer a few days before she was scheduled for her third IVF attempt, i felt a little relieve. Dammit! I am really sick, am i? Though i feel sad for her as i do feel what she's going through with a few failed IUIs and 2 IVFs - that's my journey too - but i can't help feeling i didn't want her to conceive before me. I am really sick. Yes, i am.

On the other hand, i also feel relieve and appreciating the fact that i do not have any cancerous issue after my two IVFs. It is a universe fact that the hormones jabs they pump into your body to boost egg numbers and quality do escalate malignant cells if they have been dormant all this while. (Quietly, i am counting my blessing. A recent breast scan declared my breasts are free from anything that the ultrasound could pick up. Phew! I must have done something right in my past life to earn this.)

Still, I think i need to go back to my therapist, and bury myself in my tracking on my estradiol, FSH and TSH levels. Tracking these numbers make me feel i am in control of my TTC condition, rather just stay and wait for baby to drop from the sky.

Little la-bi-xiao-xin (crayon kid)

Baby nephew and his mom

Yesterday, Yahoo reported Beyonce showed off her baby bump.

Last week, Marion Canter announced she's five-month pregnant.

And one of my old time girlfriend will be birthing her first baby - a girl - in earth september.

How do i feel now? Sour, of course. Apparently, my chance of counseling with my psychology lecturer two weeks ago didn't do magic to my heart problem.

Good thing is, i have my little nephew to lift my mood. Baby nephew - i nicknamed him la bi xiao xin (crayon kid) - is now one-and-a-half years old and he has grown into a friendly little cuttie. Though at times, he can be quite a little clingy devil - being firstborn 3rd generation in my whole family and getting overloading shower of affection and pampering - his two-teeth smile soothes the ache in my heart each time he responses to his 'crazy aunt' play.

Little nephew was born on the same day i lost my 2nd set of IVF triplets. He became a significance to my infertility struggle - yes, seeing him always reminds me the pain the day i held tissues of miscarriage on a piece of toilet paper on my hand - but because he is a family, i get to love him as close as like my own while i take indulge in healing 'with time'. If he's a friend's, like in the current case of my soon-moher-be-girlfriend whose baby was conceived a week apart from my ectopic pregnancy, the significance would become averse. Like how i'm trying to dodge bumping into her during my evening run with my dogs, like how i react irrational when conversation with other friends linked to her, like how i am plotting how to just ignore calling to congratulate her after she dues in coming early september.

I know, i have become a pervert. Neurotic one at that, you might add - i don't mind.

But little nephew lives far down south. We only meet like two to three times a year. After this round, the next time i meet him he would be more aware of his surrounding and then maybe he would forget this 'crazy aunty' completely clean. Well, baby grows, and boy, they grows fast.

Hate to admit - but got to admit - i can be only cured of delirium the day i have my own baby dino either through birth or adoption.

I'd had Laparoscopic Salpingostomy

Good thing that i had had insisted on it. And it was a good thing that i had listened to Dino dad for his decision to go for surgery.

Because, any later would have resulted me to not save my left tube.

My left tube is saved, matter-factly. Doc had written such in my insurance claim form.

Dr was able to save my tube because the sac was still smaller than 2cm and it was implanted near the far end of my left tube. (How i'd wished the sac had swam a bit more to reach my womb....aiiiiiiiiiii)

Now when the storm cloud is beginning to clear, i think i should, at the least, be thankful that i still have my left tube intact.

Upper urinary trait infection

Monday bloodwork showed 3679mIU/ml. Good sign - that it dropped tremendously from 1,656 mIU/ml last 5 days reading.

But this drop is not good enough. Its been 20 days today since i last discharged from hospital and i still have some very resisting and surviving pregnancy cells remaining in my tube.

Why? Why? Why? Why is it that the cells were fragile when i wanted my earlier pregnancies to survive? Why is it that now that the cells are so tough when i want them to die off?

On top of that, i am suffering a complication - severe case of urinary trait infection. My lower abdomen pain me round the clock like hell.. AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!............ while i wait for the hospital lab to culture the bacteria. There is trembling pain when i walk. There are sharp burning sensation when i pee. And i can't tell where the blood discharge after i pee-ed was from my residual menses or blood in my urine. Yesterday i'd even advanced to experiencing pain in my upper back and side flanks (nearby by where my kidneys are). Today, i topped my advancement with a nausea and feeling chilly.

I guess this time my UTI problem is acute pyelonephritis (infection to the kidneys). I can even suggested to my own diagnosis to my dr. (I should have taken medicines for my tertiary education).

Causes? I am suspecting my prolonged use of sanitary pads for the last 18 days was the main cause. Gosh! I have never worn pads for more than 5 days until after this ectopic surgery.

Hhhhhhhurrrrrrrrrr........ sooooooooooo painful, yet no medication...... hhhuuuurrrrrrrr.........

Why me? Why me? Why me?

I even have a presentation at client's office tomorrow morning. HHHHHUUUURRRRRRRR....... why why why why.....................................

Baby: A joy or a debtor?

Bloodwork on day 3 after surgery showed the hCG has dropped from 9.505 mIU/ml down to 1,665.

Another bloodwork on day 10 (after surgery) read 1,155.

Dr. was not happy with the reading. The hcG was dropping too slow. He wanted to see my hCG to drop below 50 because that reading will satisfy him to know for sure that all my residual pregnancy cells remaining in my affected fallopian are dead.

Because, the Dr. has tried his best to save my tube. Because, if there some left in the tube, the remaining cells could multiply on its own (so scary - like sci-fi movie) turn cancerous if not flushed out. If there were a rebound in the hCG reading, Dr. said he might need to operate me again (again??!!!!) to truly remove the affected part of the tube.

Meaning = to severe my tube!!!

Can my life gets any worse?

What's wrong with my wish to be a mother?

I only want ONE child. Is that too much to ask?

Every week there are newborns dumped in thrash or abandoned in some reclusive places left to rot reported in Malaysia papers. Last year reported over 500 newborns found dead in hell places. And just last week, reported in major dailies, a newborn found dead on a walkway of small town.

What have i done in my past life that these babies preferred to choose to be born not to my home but to the homes of these young-no-brainers and be left to die like pests??????

Rhonda Byrne's The Secret of the law of attraction = my ass!

I should sue her for refund of my purchase of her book and my time spent in diligent practicing her now-proven-not-working fad for two years. If I am not the best proof of her empty theory, then who is?

As if that was not enough suffering, my bloodwork showed below 8 vg/dl. I had three pints of blood transfusion, with one causing me allergy had me scratching my face like a monkey and red dots grew on my face, neck and scalp. Damn the antibiotic. They hurt like hell when injected intravenously.

To add salt to wound, my intestines were sort of putting on a no-work demonstration; i couldn't fart or shit. My stomach bloated with carbon dioxide like i was six-month pregnant !

To add salt + Brazilian pepper to my after-surgery pain, they placed my ward directly opposite the newborn nursery. Though the nursery curtain was drawn down at all time, but i could hear newborns' healthy crying round the clock. And when i took zombie-walk along the ward corridor, dressed in the sexy hospital robe, pulling the intravenous in one hand and carrying the blood pump on the other, hoping to stimulate bowel movement, visitors of neighboring newborns' families would see my ridiculously bloating stomach and enquired about my pregnancy. They asked out of genuine goodwill courtesy - after all, they thought this was the 'delivery floor'. I just died ten-percent each time i saw their face turned ashamed when i repeated the same sentence: I've just lost my baby.

Throughout my stay in the ward, i did not mingle with any new moms within the floor. I'd tried avoid taking walks during visiting hours. I don't share their joy, especially when i was - and still am - so raw into my loss. I'd felt knife went through my heart whenever i heard excited visitors talking to nurse wanting to visit who and who's newborn. My bile rushed up when i heard healthy newborns wailing in neighboring wards.

There was once, sometime in late morning, i overheard a stupid woman complaining to a don't-know-who, about her daughter-in-law who had just delivered a fourth baby girl. That stupid old woman was disappointed not getting a grandson. She also complained the hefty cesarean incurred. If i were not in the bathroom trying to maneuver between a drip, a blood pump and trying to clean blood dripping from my ass after pee, all the while delirious under drug influence, I would have rushed out to bite that woman's head off. "Old woman, first, you should not interfere in your son's affair. Secondly, you should be lucky to having grandchildren at all. Thirdly, of course, if you are feeling too many girls and still want to push your daughter-in-law to pig a baby boy next, do feel free to let me adopt your newborn grand daughter. I can ang pow you RM30,000 right away, stupid old woman."

At home, the scenario did not help. Out of sudden, my immediate next-door neighbor - don't know from where or on what occasion - suddenly had a bunch of their kampung relatives visiting, and their throng of kids screaming and kampung-ied my house front, plus disturbing my dogs in my compound! I wanted so much to shout at these kampung kids right in front of their parents. I wanted so much to dump the load of emotion in them. I wanted, I wanted to, but i didn't. To do that would let the world knows about my yet-another failure.

Also out of nowhere, that extreme, foul-mouth Pakistani muslim air stewardess neighbor living a few door from mine, who usually avoids coming near my front yard after the open-quarel we had some years ago about her wrongly involving my dogs with the local animal enforcement, suddenly found my dogs interesting, and has been pramming her new 3-months-old baby to my front yard in the mornings cooing at my dogs and cats. What the fuck! What the fuck!

Go ahead, think me evil. Think me selfish. Think me 變態. Yes. I am 變態 and a very bitter one.

But look around you. Poor families usually bear children like pigs and the miracle part is their children usually get to grow up without problem. I have travelled far, i have seen enough rural people leaving their babies crawling on mud while parents minded their livelihood. Despite little muddy fingers go into their mouth, many of these children grew up and become parents of their own.

But do they really appreciate the significance of the existence of a child? I do not think so. They bear children not out of good intention. They bore children as a result of uncontrolled birth control. On extreme cases, for those who are staunchly religious - in whatever faith - think that children are god's gift, and to prevent god's creation is betrayal to their god, hence a child is born. And eventually the brood grew from three to seven. But the household income could honestly only afford three mouth qualitatively.

When children cannot be given the best of education, and the best of universal wisdom, and the best level of attention and love from parents, what's the use of his or hers existence in this world? Look around me. I see only social ills. I see mat rempits. I see snatch thieves. I see below-par workers in the government sector. I see government hospitals full house. I see young adults with mentally only confined to kampung level despite having completed secondary schools. I see society loosers falling back to the comfort zone of all-things religion, hiding in the veil of god, god, god, every day calling the name of gods in vain. I see society loosers joining fanatic groups doing what-they-kid-themselves-thinking doing god's work and be granted to heaven. I see gangsterism thrive. I see Egypt and Libyan political turmoil.

Don't all these problems rooted from a weak foundation in a child's years?

But inexplicably, the well-to-do society continues to have infertility issues, and the hardly-able-to-feed-themselves group continues to contribute to the country's expanding population.

ai.........................................

It is ECTOPIC

It's official.

2nd opinion by a consultant gynaecologist and obstetrician in Sunway Hospital re-confirmed i had an ectopic pregnancy on 18 Feb 2011. Ultrasound showed - this time clearer than the last scan - my lower left fallopian tube swollen and there was blood forming in the affected area. It was not in my pelvis because i felt no pain when Dr. performed pelvic examination.

Dr. said: Very bad news; the baby is growing robustly BUT in the wrong place. While your fetal is struggling to survive, your tube is fast rupturing. You must be operated immediately before full-blown rupture hits.

Me and Dino dad: That bad meh? Can't wait a few more days or two? Maybe our baby might decide to roll away from my tube and swim to my womb leh? This pregnancy is our first pregnancy that survived past 7 weeks - and is still growing strong.

Dr: The chance is one in 40,000, if that happens. If not, then you are subjecting yourself to a high-risk situation where ectopic at worst case, is life-threatening. Currently, there is no technology that can save a pregnancy that has implanted outside of a womb.

Dr. wouldn't release me home and repeatedly warned of the dangerous complications if rupture happened. I wanted to wait but Dino dad was firmed to choose the lesser evil of two evils: to save me first. He signed the consent form and Dr. issued an emergency surgery that afternoon itself.

Normally, the fertilized egg is carried to the uterus to be implanted and grow. In my case, the egg was beginning to implant in my left fallopian tube, an area of the uterus that cannot sustain life, where pregnancy can't go on because the growing embryo and placental tissue can destroy the structures outside the uterus. If left to later stage, i could either loose a tube (beyond repair, and reduce 50% chance to conceive) or die from severe hemorrhage when the tube rupture. Only on rare cases that the mother to miscarry naturally without rupture, hemorrhage or death. But i know; i would never be that lucky one.

I learned that ectopic pregnancies are fairly common, like 1 in 1oo pregnancies. Talking about odds, how unlucky can i be?

In the OT, even the nice Dr. Anesthetist shared my pain when he saw the reason i was all prep lying and waiting in doom. Probably he saw my pain through my red eyes and nose; I had been repeatedly saying goodbye to my baby the minute i was pushed out of my ward heading to the OT. I told the my baby to forgive me. I'd have to end its life by force. I did not cried out but i was suffocating inside, trying to be strong - don't know for what? While waiting for my turn to be put out, i imagined my baby playing in Buddha's embrace and i'd pleaded to Buddha to bring this baby to pure land. This baby is innocent; i am the one going to abort this little life no matter how badly i wanted to keep it.

After waiting liked forever in the ward and in the OT, at 8pm same day i was finally pushed out, semi-conscious, plus suffering a hypertemia-like episode, and a bad sore throat (caused by anesthesiologist O2 tube thrust into my trachea).

At that moment, the realization of being back to 'not-pregnant' was drastically real.

The laporoscopic surgery left me with three incision wounds in my lower abdomen - the 3rd one was directly inside my belly button - and a tube attached out from my womb area, draining blood out of my uterus for the next two days. Plus the ever-present intravenous drip on my left hand.

Bloodwork confirmed i was starting to minor hermorrhage; my hemoglobin counts dropped to less 7.3 vg/dl whereby a healthy woman should be between 11.5 - 15.5. Immediately i was put on blood transfusion.

Next week have to do another bloodwork to see if my body has rid off all the unwanted pregnancy cells as it should be.

Pain Attack!

This morning, the pain started like severe bloating; minor but sharp. It started getting serious by the time i reached office and it made me felt like wanted to take a dump. After much gentle massages to my ballooning belly, i'd finally released quite a good amount of, literally, hard stool.

But the pain did not go away - like it had been the first time this situation happened two days (Feb 15) ago, at home when it suddenly attacked and left me struggling in and out of faint, heavy sweating, bullet-train palpitation all the while curled up like a prawn trembling in sharp-killing pain. The pain slowly subsided after i passed some hard stool and took two painkillers. I did not bleed immediate after this attack, but i did bled some 8 hours later. Our hearts dropped to the floor when i saw fresh red on toilet papers. That night we went to bed in tears. Somehow - didn't know why - the bleeding stopped the next morning and last the next 24 hours.

When the pain attack again this morning, not only it didn't go away after i took a dump, the pain sort of localized to my left abdomen. And the pain intensified. No choice - no GP dared to prescribe laxative in my case - we went to my gynae. The pain was over the top when i reached the hospital and was admitted immediately.

Again, i started bleeding because of this pain attack. And again, our hearts dropped to the floor, thinking this time it's going to be a real miscarriage.

3 doctors saw me, few rounds of ultrasound searches, some ponstan, some laxative tables, a drip, a super-fast positive urine test (i wondered under who's no-brainer ordered that when my last hcg was already 4,336) and a newly derived hCG result at over 9000.

No one can tell me am i week 6 or week 7 because no sac found in my uterus. Although my hCG is rising but the numbers were not doubling as it should be in a heathy fetal development.

The funniest thing is: i stopped bleeding!!!!! Just like it was the first attack after.

At 7pm just now, the doc declared that he was over 90% sure i am having an ectopic pregnancy. And i must be operated this night itself.

We looked at the doc with blank eyes. Is he crazy? Me to go under the table without a conclusive finding? Wait a minute. He couldn't even find the sac anywhere else. How can he operate me and go on a search mission?

We wanted to wait and see, the doc wasn't happy with our decision. He said my condition is gravely dangerous and he wouldn't discharge me, unless he referred me to another specialist opinion - his friend, in this case - this evening itself.

We took the reference letter and settled the whopping RM590 bills and went back to the office. No kidding; if i am to be hospitalized the next few days, i must delegate works properly before i go MIB. If not, i wouldn't RIP. So we get some office work done and went home eventually at 9.45pm.

As i am writing this, i am thinking why no doctors want to listen to the essence of my complaints? That i feel i am merely having a case of the grandest of constipation and gas-bloating???? Why is everybody leaning unerringly to ectopic??? Out of 7 top symptoms of ectopic, not one that matches my condition of these two attacks.

I felt lightheartedness only during the excruciating pain in an attack.

I bled but it stopped - even without taking medications, just like today.

I did not experience one-sided shoulder or pain below diaphragm.

I am more than 100% sure my pain was due to almost non-bowel movement. From what i have learned, bowel movements is probably retarded by over use of uterus supportive meds (progesterone jab + Progynova+progesterone inserts every day).

For heaven's sake, i don't fart healthily! So it natural to have gas stuck all over my intestines and making my stomach ballooning to look like 6 months pregnant. With religious folic acid taking and little intake of water, of course i constipate like hell.

Right now, i am feeling totally normal except for the gas discontent in my stomach. With no meds taken this whole day, i am able to fart more often this evening. I guess my bowel is able to start moving again.

Should i listen to my doc and admit myself tomorrow morning for an explorative surgery? Or should i just stop all meds and take up wait-and-see strategy? What could be worse? A sudden attack from a rupture tube that could put me in life-threatening situation? Yes, i know that. But, what if the doctors were wrong? What if i am just a case of severe constipation and gas-bloating and risk a could-be potentially healthy pregnancy?

I think i will seek second opinion tomorrow, do more scanning to find that tiny sac and to observe two - if possible - more rounds of hCG numbers.

Oh!!! got to go. I think the laxative i took this morning is starting to push stools into my rectum. Time to take a huge dump. And hopefully after that i would be pain-free.

6wks 3 days - No sac yet

I am pretty sure i am 6 weeks 3 days according to my last LMP; i keep a TTC calendar every month!

But today's transvaginal scan saw nothing, did not pick up any sac but a strange white 'blob' of unknown. My heart sank with the finding.

The nice doc continued to soothe me quoting that i 'may be' still too early. And that the white blob could be a sac formation in progress. She did warned, however, that if the sac still don't show by next scan (next Monday), then doc will be searching for an ectopic.

My hCG on Feb 9 was 2466, which i do not see its optimistic because the maximum agregate of a healthy fetal development ranged up to 7,000 at week 6. Mine is below the middle.

I have read some forum, many TTC moms who had the same situation like mine were somehow half ended in ectopic and needed a laparoscopy for diagnosis and then ended in D&C, while the other half ended in surprise 'late grower', and ended with miracle livebirths.

Not helping, not helping, not helping!!!!!!!!!! No pregnant, hurt; got pregnant now, hurt triple. Why is it so much just to have one baby??????? Next scan is 3 days later, next bloodwork is tomorrow but result can only be known on Monday as we are approaching a weekend. And my breast tenderness seems to have reduced to- if put on a scale 1-10 with 10 being the most intense - 2. That is the tenderness can only be felt - mildly - if pinched. I even suspect the remaining tenderness is solely the work of the progesterone jab+Progynova meds+ vaginal inserts. My nipples, though still gorge-looking, have already lost its sensitivity. And worst of all, spotting of brown-to dark brown has resumed yesterday and it has not stopped. No symptoms of feeling pregnant; no sickness. Bed rests the past days did not seem to help.

Gosh! I had 10x more intensity with my boobs, bloating and frequent urination during my days in Mynamar than now.

Another blow came when a girlfriend - who lives 2 rows behind my house dropped the bomb that she is now 7 weeks and just came home with a 34cm fetal scan with heartbeat!!!!!

Listen to that!!! I want to feel happy for her but i felt more rage than to be afford generosity at this moment with me struggling an unknown direction to my second 'naturally conceived' pregnancy. I am damn worry this going to be another failure - the stats aren't optimistic - but i dang hope at least a sac be shown in my uterus even if it were a blighted ovum or a non-viable sac. Important thing is NOT BE AN ECTOPIC.

How cruel can life be?

Angiesmon, your post is the only light i am hanging on to.

Agiesmom says:

Aug 16, 2007 11:38PM

At 6 weeks, 2 days I had a transvaginal ultrasound and they saw nothing--no yolk sac, no fetal pole, no heartbeat. At 8 weeks, I had another transvaginal ultrasound and they still saw nothing--just a black oval. My doctor told me that it's over (blighted ovum) and suggested a D&C or Cytotec to help "move things along". I refused both, saying I wanted to wait and let my body do what it needs to do on its own. I never started cramping or bleeding and my doctor was concerned, saying that infection can set in when a miscarriage doesn't complete in a timely manner. So at 9 weeks, 5 days I had another ultrasound and there she was! Heartbeat and all! She is perfect and beautiful and will be 6 months old on August 21st.

I know this isn't typical and I don't want to give anyone false hope, but I am so glad that I waited.

2011 Jan 8 - Spotting stopped!

IT STOPPED!! IT STOPPED!!

The Progynova worked. The progesterone inserts worked.

No cramp noted since yesterday dawn. Phew.

Overall status: A-ok.

Next scheduled scanning : Jan 10.

Fingers crossed.

In the meantime, enjoy some aerial view over bagan, taken from hot air balloon ride.

2011, Jan 7 - Living hell

The spotting was supposed to stop; after the jab and 2 dosages of Progynova, isn't it? Counting back to the first day of my last period - Jan 4 - i should be on day 35th, that's exactly end of 5th week.

But i still bleeds, bit by bit, all dark brown, not enough for a pad but quite taxing on a panty liner. I have been resting the whole day, sitting in front of TV from 2pm to 1am. What more to do?????

I have mild period-like cramp felt at dawn this morning, and my breast tenderness was almost gone. I knew the signs too well - an impending miscarriage. I knew it. I had it times before. But still i needed to get up to pee. Fresh red blood colored my urine. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, it confirmed my presumptions.

I felt the dream slipping through my arms, and rage renewed.

All right, life is very cruel and that's my shitty destiny - to be teased, poked fun with happiness one day and then only to be doused with fire the next. Didn't care, put on heels (against Doc's order), went to client's office to collect a due cheque, went lunch, waited for hubby sinseh treatment and then back.

A check on the pad, an hour ago did not see flushing. Same old, same old with the dark brown spotting.

I am going into a freaking mode already. Gosh! its so hard!!!!

2011, Jan 6 - PREGNANT FINALLY!!!!!!!

FINALLY! FINALLY! FINALLY! PREGNANT WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YAY! YAY! YAY!

After half expecting another month of fail preggo, we boarded the scheduled plane and flew off to Myanmar for a 4-days Chinese New Year breakaway - it was time i let the whole TTC issue to rest and start reliving my life in a brand new year. Hubby and i have talked about leaving the preggo wish to destiny and confirmed resorting to adoption once the dragon year (2012) set in. Rabbit clashes with hubby. If we were to adopt, of course we would want to adopt a compatible child.

So, there we were, thrashing through the streets of Yangon city in hell-taxi rides when in one of the rides, the taxi door flung opened suddenly and banged the rear of a park white Camry that was parked by the roadside, and the taxi door bounded back in; got stranded in Yangon domestic airport for 2 hours due to fog so dense, visibility was mere 3 feet; got on a 45-minutes hot air balloon ride over Bagan sky - the magnificent archaeological park of thousands pagodas; after having endured two mornings and evenings of temperature drop to 14-Celsius - didn't expect Myanmar to be this cold and our luggage were stuffed with only T-shirts; after a climb of more than 500 steps up the legendary temple on the tip of Mount Popa; after hours running around photographing Yangon 2,500 years-old Shwedagon temple under burning sun and a climbing-up-and-down spring cleaning of my walk-in walkdrobe a day after returning from Myanmar, plus flipping the double queen sized beds, my period still wouldn't start flushing as

it should be. The dark brown spottings were getting on my nerve and i was already starting anticipating a relapse of hypothyrodism. So bought the cheapest pregnancy test kit at Guardian after Sushi supper and was intended to get myself tested once and for all.

My sleeping popped opened and all fog in my sticky eyes dissipated as my pupils traced the urine being absorbed, rising steady and smoothly passed all indicator and the on-the-spot emergence of 2 pink lines on the strip.

Wow! wow! wow! wow! I checked and rechecked the instruction sheet to make sure i was reading the strip signal correctly. There they were: 2 wonderful, strong, sure, pink lines. There were the most beautiful thing in this whole wide world. I screamed and ran down stairs to a petrified hubby who was half way bathing the fur-kids.

We got it!!!! Naturall!!!! No whatsoever medications!!! And it happens in the last water month.

Went to our regular gynae, did a scan - but fibroids were blocking the view of a possible sac - so the good doctor gave me progesterone jab on the butt and prescibed Progynova for the next 5 days. Doc knew of my previous twice failed IVF and she summoned me to absolute bed rest from this day on.

But can i ?

PICKING UP PIECES

I'm back.

Though still very much a bitter person,

but i'm turbo charged with determination.

The fight's still on.

Quest continues.

Another saga unfold.

I tell myself that i still have 42 months before i hit 40.

Now faithless, i'm resolving to rely on my bazi for guidance.

World-renowned bazi master saw my bazi and augured that herbal medicines is the cure - wood element - to resolve the child-bearing clash indicated in my bazi.

So it is, Chinese medicine.

Unlike western treatment like IVF - which are tactical solutions - TCM is a long distant marathon.

I have commenced TCM treatment with a TCM gynae from China and i am hoping fervently that she would be The One to cure me with the treasure of the 5,000 years-old traditional Chinese formula for woman's wellbeing formula.

Also my bazi indicated that i have entered a new ten-year cycle of Output. Which means these are going to be the years that i will, literally, produce, be it my creativity @ work, music, novel-writing and most desired of all - a baby.

TCM (wood) + Ouput (water) = baby (finger-cross)

IN GRIEF

My 2nd IVF attempt miscarried on 16 April 2010. All three tiny lives had lived just one week longer than the first triplet's. This second attempt lasted exactly four weeks and four days from embryo transfer date. Technically, i was really pregnant for only a month - from fertilization with triplets thriving at eight-cells when they were put back into my womb.

On the very same day of my loss, i'd, sadly, celebrated the birth of my younger brother's first child. Aside from hubby, i had told no one about my miscarriage. I had faked a joyous face throughout this day as it was a historical day for my family because this baby boy is also my parent's first grandchild, a.k.a. the third generation. Baby Hong-Hong is a epitome of my yearning, my desire, my longing and my depression.

As much as i am happy to welcome a new life into the family, i was also submerging in tremendous grief with my loss. My weight dropped drastically, tipping the scale to 8kg. I couldn't bring myself to blog and work life was monologue. I let myself grieved without reserve; i'd stayed reclusive, pensive, wistful, hurt.

Unfortunately, i still haven't emerge, even till today. I am as bitter as before. I snapped easily. I can taste sour in my tongue whenever i see women my age or younger walking by with a proud baby bump. I detour whenever such women came onto my path.

I never thought i can actually - and literally - 'taste' failure. And now i have. It makes me want to loathe. It makes me want to find fault at something...someone. It makes me want to scream my head off.

Despite not getting any of those achieved, at least it has successfully made me turn my back on religion or all things spiritual. I am able to say it out loud, to anyone, that i think religion or GOD or any faith are just a psychology illusion people conjure to cushion self in moments of weakness.

"Religion is an illusion and it derives its strength from the fact that it falls in with our instinctual desires. At bottom, God is nothing more than an exalted father."

Sigmund Freud.

I couldn't agree more. I can truly feel and understand it's extent at this junction of my life when i have had finally got down on my knees at numerous times, prayed and begged for help to secure the second IVF. Poignant prayers despite heartfelt pledges. No miracle happened. The atrocious gushes of red came, flushing out my previous triplets, my dream, my yearning, along with my honest belief of faith.

Today, i am able to lift my fingers to blog. Probably out of hatred, out of revenge at everything that stands in my way to mother a child. Maybe i should congratulate myself for coming out of grief and promoted to anger. Maybe i am telling myself i should not be giving up so soon. Maybe i need the anger to fuel my determination to fight on. Maybe i need the fire to fuel my next book: Do we need GOD?

A Girl’s story of Ovum Donation in Malaysia

I have accidently stumbled upon an interesting yet hope generating website http://spareyoureggs.com. The author is a brave Malaysia woman who had donated her eggs for a fee at an unnamed medical center in the country. I'd read her website with uninterrupted interest as she had written about the process and procedures so well and never the slightest slur hinted in her report.

Reading her website had cheered my another-day-of-2ww-blue. Though she had done the donation with a nominal fee in return, but having had been through the egg-growing process myself twice, i must applaud her courage and her unwavering decision to go through the painstaking process that lasted in no less than four weeks. Though its for a fee, which might be spent off within a week, but her contribute could last a life time if the eggs made it to the birth stage. The magnitude of the egg donors are justified wider and farther than dollar and cents. Donated eggs could bring life and happiness... in an otherwise grim family.

But there was one woman named Sarah commented on her website with such narrow-minded perception that brought me to think, such people still exist in this twenty-first century??? Read on.


sarah Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 5:42pm

Hi dear,
You are very brave. But i must ask, when u do plan to have children of your own, have u thought about the consequences that u have other children out there, who you might never even get to know of, with your genes and dna running through them? what if your own children happens to fall in love with your donated-egg child, and they never find out that they are related? and then an incest is in the making, which is a crime, but no one will ever know cos you dont know?
isnt that horrible?

if ur never planning to have kids, i think that would be much better, but you also never know if ur cousins or siblings or you yourself fall in love and meet with your donated-egg child. crimes could be born UNKNOWN.

Bizarre, isn't she? If more people think like Sarah, i couldn't imagine what could possibly be their views towards other aspects of their life. I think self-preservation would their core agenda to life - everything that concern their interest must come first. On a lighter note, imagine being her daughter-in-law....guahahaha

I seldom pray lately, but i would wish to make this exception for the kind author and her courage to maintain her website. I pray to all gods that the divines would see her sincere objective and bless her for her courage to do the nonorthodox in the name of charity to those unfortunate childless and infertile community.

cycle 29 (2nd IVF Day 10) - 2WW blues

I'd nearly had a breakdown this morning - my breasts were devoid of pains to the touch. That flicked me out of my stupor liked ice-cold water poured onto me. I said up on my bed and started pressing my breast all over lightly trying to detect some pain. Though i've got some tenderness but the symptoms were very weak. My nipples had went from non-touchable to press-able. I zombied through the regular morning routine and i ate breakfast without tasting the wanton mee.

I simple couldn't bring myself to do or make my brain to think of anything else. I didn't even tell Dino dad. After the morning shower, i sat in front of the TV at 9.45am before switching on New Moon DVD, i concentrated on chanting "I have a strong womb, my babies are strong and i will see them in nine months time" over and over for a long moment. Though the chanting did not settled my fear, but i could feel the tenderness on my breasts increased slightly. Yeah, don't think i'm crazy - i know and took mental note on every little significant or insignificant symptoms that goes on in my body.

I do entirely aware that all symptoms of possible implantation i am feeling right now are caused by the drugs i am subjecting my body to; i know full well that hCG injections raised alkaline taste at my throat all day to the extend i'd felt two-percent-nauseous, the intense breast tenderness feeling is also the work of hCG and progesterone suppository, the fatigue, five-percent increase in urination and engorged nipples. I welcome all these. These symptoms help me to stay focus and think positively. In fact, and not shy to declare, i cling my sanity to it.

There's nothing i want more this year than holding an infant in my arms. I'd even prepared to drop all my careers if i were really pushed to that - as told to me by bazi consultants that it was indicated in my bazi to be a one hundred-percent mom should i conceived successfully. Whatever, i don't mind. I am ready for all eventuality that might shift the horizon of my work life.

Now, as i write, the breast tenderness had got stronger but slightly lesser than yesterdays. But at least the metallic taste on my throat returned. Many IVF mom-to-be websites cited that the two-week-wait should not be an eventful period, that there're usually not much significant symptoms to catch even if the lucky mom is carrying twins. The best confirmation lies on day 14 when doc would summon a urinal test and most IVF docs claimed that any pregnancy urinal tests done will not be reliable until 16 days after egg collection.

Well, i am four days away. And these days of the 2ww are most nerve-racking time of the whole treatment cycle. It is the only period when two major impacts can be felt at once - the elation for knowing my babies could have successfully implanted when there's still significant symptoms to be felt, whereas sandwiched on the other side of the moment is the feeling of uncertainly, of possible deflation of spirit, when i am feeling so helpless like a fat, useless potato couch with thousands of questions fleeting in my head that no one could answer - even God, even specialists. I want to reach for the dial, but who could i call? The counsellor? (Please! people are getting pregnancy like eating peanuts every day. They have more suicidal cases on hand) The IVF support group? (let me know i there's one near you) The doctors? (These species are trained for their hand skills which the universities had forgotten they have a mouth too) The nurses? (Huh? iss it? Yes ah? I don't know la. I only work here.) Friends? (Two types. Type one : Uh-uh, yes yes, excuse me for one second, (yelling) Boy, if you don't stop that i will smack you. Ok, where were we? Isn't my baby girl looking like his daddy...? Type two: Uh-uh, yes yes, my god who's kids are those? Somebody stop them from screaming like monkeys. My ears hurt. Ok, where were we? Sigh.......................... again ................. and again ......................

In the meantime, anyone want to be my surrogate mother? Or do you have an extra healthy baby you couldn't afford to feed or give grade A education? I don't mind having more even if i have my own. My house is big and there's only two people, two dogs and a few cats living here. Got extra empty rooms.

cycle 29 (2nd IVF) - I have 3 again

I have received three of my well developing 8-cells embryos back into my womb on March 25. Though March 26 was the best recommended day - by my Bazi consultant as the day had both of my favorable elements: wood and water - i didn't opted for it because doc had advised me not to let my living embryos exposed to the outside world for more than three days. Clinically proven that surviving embryos thrive best in the nature-made environment of a woman's womb.

My consultant helped me to settled on March 25 as second best - having wood but sitting on Earth (unfavorable). Well, i had to resolved that March 25 was the better option than to March 24 as it was a month-breaker day though both of the day elements suited me too. Better heed the consultant - didn't think Month-breaker was lesser than my IVF investment.

True enough, the embryo-transfer went very well. I was bizarrely craving for chicken chop when i was discharged from the hospital at noon. It should be a good sign.

The fact that i craved food was yet a significant change of luck in this second IVF attempt because i simply suffered NO OHSS! That alone was something to be celebrated. Why, because i did not wallow in great stomach discontent - that had blown up my stomach to a 6-month pregnant belly - and breathing difficulty. I got to eat all my meals like usual. I am still wearing my jean and fitting Ts. And most crucial of all, i won't be spending extra RM960 for any albumin to flush OHSS and i WILL BE getting my progesterone jabs every fourth day - yeah!

Well, there was also a little set back - i didn't produce enough quality eggs to be frozen for next future use. I produced fifteen eggs on the first IVF. This round i'd only managed to produce six eggs. I guess that was what i had to be balanced with - less eggs = no OHSS...sigh.

Freezing the extra eggs can help to reduce the time and money of the pre-IVF journey if i were to want more babies in the future. Its a technology to be marveled. Alas, i couldn't benefit from it.

On day two, two of my embryos died at four-cells. When the embryologist broke the news, my knees got weak - i mean that'd left a balance of only four embryos to chance. Many negative notions flashed through my brain, what if they didn't do well and i had to start the injections all over again?

Somehow, my luck got a little up tide. When i checked in for transfer procedure, the embryologist announced that the fourth one died too but there were three very strong eight-cells fella still thriving. And they were growing as per schedule.

But this time, the embryologist said their monitor was not functioning well so they couldn't let me see the images of my embryos. How coincident? Why did i get the feeling that they didn't want this informed patient poking her nose too much into their procedure? Could the doc regretted to let me keep the image of my embryos during the first IVF? Sniff, sniff... i am tormenting myself now with negative thoughts about the doc's motive. Hopefully they didn't lie to me that my embryos were not showing well and they wouldn't want me to cancel last minute... gua.

Sigh.... i'd better stop musing with the negatives and start focusing the positive. I need to start observing physical signs - doc said my embryos should be starting to implant this Saturday or Sunday.

So now, off i go to lie on my couch again. Want to see the real image of a couch potato? That's me!