The tears finally came yesterday after I completed my previous blog entry. I guess the weather had a big part to play because it was raining heavily in the afternoon, and the setting was 'right'... The raindrops are like my tears, the cloudy sky depicts my gloomy heart and the lightning that flashes across the sky feels like someone is whipping my already wounded heart over and over again. It was the perfect time and backdrop to grieve over the loss of the little person I'd never get to know, plus his/her (??) brother Lucas and sister Chloe.

Surprisingly, this time the tears came rather late. It's been more than a week after we were told the bad news. I guess finally the truth has sank in... that I have lost yet another baby; that our potential future with yet another child had been cruelly terminated; that I are back to the same old drawing board of grieving, coping with grief, learning to hide it and deal with grief.

Before Mark and I could even properly celebrate the joy of our gift, it was taken away from us so quickly and suddenly. God has given us 3 gifts, only to take them back again. I do seriously wonder if it's something I have done wrong in my previous life and thus all the bad karma and punishment that I have to go through this lifetime to atone for my sins.

Into each life some rain must fall. -- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(I think I have more than my share of rain for this lifetime,

can I please have some sunshine and clear skies henceforth??)

According to Dr Anu, my HCG levels have dropped nicely and it's around the range of 67 as of last Friday. They'd need to continue to take my blood and monitor the levels until they become negative. Most likely, it'd be another week or so before I get the all-clear.

I used to be really squirmish when it comes to injections or taking blood. I used to get sleepless nights when I know that I am due for an injection or blood test the following day, but by now pregnancies (and miscarriages) have given me a very solid 'training ground'. It usually takes 2 or more attempts before the nurses can draw enough blood from me, and based on track record, they can only get it from the 'funny places' that hurts the most... like the back of my hand or on the wrist (if more than one test tube of blood is needed, then it'd have to be taken from the groin).

Same recent examples of my 'battle scars' -

This morning Dr Anu took some time to chat with me although I didn't have any appointment to see her. Early last week, she gave me her private cellphone number and told me to call her if I feel unwell or if I simply needed to talk. Mark and I thought it was very kind and sweet of her. Then on Friday, she sent me a text message to assure me that my HCG level was falling and asked how I was doing.

She seemed really concerned about how I was feeling and how I was coping mentally. Before I left, she gave me some words of encouragement, and told me not to give up just yet because she firmly believes that it's not the end. I certainly hope what she says is true.

In the short span of the last 5 days, three different people whom I know have announced their pregnancies. One of them is my ex-colleague, and when I found out about it, it hit me particularly hard because when I was pregnant with #1 (i.e. Lucas), she was pregnant with her #3 child. When I got pregnant with my #2 (i.e. Chloe), she was pregnant with her #4 child. Now that I have lost my #3 (sadly no name given cos we don't know the gender), she's expecting her #5.

It feels like the big guy up there is constantly rubbing salt on my wounds and in this instance, I felt like my face is being rubbed in dung. I only ask for ONE healthy child, and I struggled so hard and have not even succeed. My ex-colleague has 4 healthy kids, and now she's being blessed with yet another one... To top it off, she smokes and drinks coffee heavily throughout her pregnancies. Hello??

After I lost Chloe, I have already accepted the fact that life is not fair... It wasn't meant to be fair from the start anyway, but it was just me and my skewed perspective that feels that it should be fair. But having to deal with this is really taxing me out. How long more can I go on to pretend that everything is fine? How much more crap can I endure? No matter how strong I try to be, I am sure there's going to be a snapping point right?

Got to go off to count my blessings again and pretend that the world is really such a beautiful and perfect place.

Wistful Wishful Thinking

When I first found out I was pregnant, I thought the timing of this baby couldn't come at a more perfect time.

- I had just quit my job and for once, I will truly be 'stress-free' and be able to take plenty of rest and lie in bed as much as I want.

- This baby would've been due on/ around Mark's birthday in mid July. What better present to give to Mark, right?

- I lost both Lucas and Chloe in the month of June, and June is officially my 'most hated' month of the year. Even if something happens again and I had to give birth prematurely come June next year, this baby would be viable outside my womb cos it'd be over 34 weeks old.

At first we were so happy because for once, we'd be celebrating this year's Christmas with a baby... the past 2 Christmases sucked and it was a very miserable time for us because we were missing our 2 Angels. We felt so empty... while other families are reveling in the festivities of the season, we were at home nursing our wounded hearts.

Nonetheless, this pregnancy, although very short, had given Mark and I almost 2 weeks of pure happiness. Mark told me that it serves to remind us of our goal, and of what we are fighting so hard for.

Who've have thought that this journey would end before it could even properly begin... it was all wistful, wishful thinking on my part.

The Begining of the End

When they did the HCG test for me yesterday, my levels dropped dramatically to the 200's... To sum it up, my levels went from 977 on 18 Nov to 800 plus on 20 Nov, and eventually to 200 plus on 22 Nov instead of doubling up as it should in a normal pregnancy. The decision was made to go ahead with the injection help the body begin the miscarriage process and to terminate whatever is left of this pregnancy to avoid any complications.

Strange as it sounds, but I was told that the drug (Methrotrexate) that is used in the injection is a low dosage cancer treatment drug. I was also warned that it could trigger some side effects such as nausea, vomitting, diarrhea, cramps, hair loss... The actual bleeding started last night. I guess that symbolized the begining of the end.

Oddly, I still have not shed a tear yet... perhaps reality hasn't yet sank in. The young Caucasian nurse who gave me the jab yesterday chatted with me briefly while she was prepping me for the shot, and she commented that I was 'holding it together rather well'. I simply told her I am immune to it already cos I had 2 previous pregnancy failures.

As the injection had to go on my bum, she saw my tattoo and I briefly told her the 2 stories behind it. She then asked if I minded if the injection ended near/ on my tattoo and I told her to go ahead. Thought that it was somewhat appropriate and meaningful to have the 'shot that would end it all' injected on/ around my 2 Angels.

In the end, it ended up just below Chloe's right foot. (After Mark took this photo for me, he commented about my cellulite!!!So upset!! My husband really has a special way of cheering me up...)

I need to go back later this week and again early next week to test my HCG levels until it drops to 5 or below (for non-pregnant women). Before I left, my doctor told me that I can call her anytime on her personal mobile phone if I don't feel well or simply want to talk. She also told me how she was so happy for me initally when she heard from the nurses that I was pregnant, and then how sorry she was for its very premature failure.

When I lost Lucas and Chloe, I have constantly reminded/ encouraged myself that 'what doesn't kill me makes me stronger', and indeed, I'd like to think I have emerged a stronger person. But what I also want to say now is "Dear God, I think I am almost invincible already, please cut me some slack."

Oops... I Did It Again

As I am typing this out, I am in the midst of my 3rd miscarriage. Yup, apparently the last cycle worked and on 09 November I found out I was pregnant through a home pregnancy test kit. Prior to taking the test, I already had a niggling suspicion I could be pregnant because I didn't get my period, my boobs hurt, I was peeing more than usual and I was feeling very bloated and nauseated. All the same symptoms when I had Lucas and Chloe. The pregnancy kit confirmed my suspicions with a big, fat plus sign.

Ever since he found out about it, Mark imposed on me a complete bed rest... well it was mostly 'complete'. I spent 70% of those 10 odd days lying down, 20% sitting (to eat, check my emails) and 10% standing (showering, going to the loo, walking from Point A to Point B). I really did my best to behave myself and do whatever Mark and my mom told me to. I stopped drinking my favourite ice-cold water and avoided any 'cooling' or unhealthy food. I also cancelled or pushed away any appointments with friends because I didn't want to take any risk.

On 18 November, I spotted a little and since I have such bad track records with pregnancy, Mark sent me to the hospital immediately. As it was still in the very early stage, they were not able to see any gestational sac. My HCG level was within the desired range and I was sent home to rest and to go back on Saturday for another blood test and scan.

Strangely, because I am so in tune with my body now, I started noticing that those symptoms I was experiencing earlier seem to be gradually subsiding rather than worsening, which should be the case as the pregnancy progresses cos of the increase in hormones. I guess that sort of prepared me and Mark for the worst case scenario.

When we went back to the hospital for the bloodwork to be done on Saturday, true enough, my HCG level had gone down instead of doubling as it should have. The doctor was still not able to locate any gestational sac. We were told that this was a failing pregnancy, and it is nature's way of doing things. Come Monday, I will have to go back in for another blood test to ascertain that the HCG level wasn't increasing and then to get a jab to expel the embryo. Normally, as it is still so early in the pregnancy, the body should dissolve and absorb the remains of the embryo, but the doctor recommended the jab because she's worried that since we cannot see any gestational sac in the uterus, there is a remote possibility that it could be ectopic. If that's the case, it'd pose a risk to me if left untreated. Honestly, I've come to the stage where I don't really care about myself anymore...

I have not shed a tear over this yet. I think I am so numb and exhausted from it all that it is not registering. I guess it is also 'less painful' this time around because it was still an embryo rather than a fetus, and there wasn't any visual evidence. In the case of Lucas and Chloe, we have actually seen them growing week by week on the ultrasound scans... and for Chloe, I have actually held her in my arms as a fully formed baby.

The disappointment is crushing... I still don't know what I will do next, to continue on or to give it all up. At this stage, the temptation to throw in the towel is strong, but a small part of me is still unwilling to call it quits.

The doctor tried to console us by telling us that this is a common occurence in 15%-20% of all pregnancies, and it is totally unavoidable. Some women may not even realise that they are pregnant and may just think that their period is late. What I don't understand it why do I always fall into the wrong side of the statistics. Why do these things always happen to me? What do I need to do to get things right?

My poor, long suffering Mark has had to go through yet another roller-coaster ride of emotions with me. He's been my crutch for the past 2 over years, and I can see the resignation in his eyes... perhaps with a tinge of weariness too. I wonder how long more he can take it. I wonder why I keep torturing him this way. I wonder if I'd ever be able to give him a child.

Ok, going off to count what is left of my blessings and remind myself how 'lucky'/ 'fortunate'/ 'blessed' I am.

I met little Amanda and her mom for a meal and I cannot believe how much Amanda has grown!! She's just over a year old now, and has become a playful little imp who can walk very well on her own. When she wants something, she doesn't hesitate to 'tell' you about it and it seems like one of her first words is the name of her doggie Chow Chow!! Amanda's mom and I had a busy time conjuring up things to keep her occupied and contented (and quiet).

One of the cutest things she does is she likes to wave to strangers! I love the way she brings a smile to someone's face when she does her little celebrity wave at them. Such a sweetheart she is... I also told her mom to watch out for this girl cos she may join a beauty pagent when she's of age!

Looking at Amanda and spending time with her never fails to make me think of Chloe since Chloe was supposed to be only 2 weeks older than Amanda. Would she have been able to walk now too? What will her first words be? How will she look like? What will her favourite toys be? Will she and Amanda be good friends?

Missing my little girl so much...

I just noticed there was a comment left on one of my earlier posts from 'FroggyCheesecake' and I wanted to acknowledge it. Honestly not very many people know about this blog that I keep, hence I was pleasantly surprised to get a comment! I am not sure how 'FroggyCheesecake' came to know about my blog, and I wanted to find a way to show my appreciation.

*** Dear FroggyCheesecake,

Thank you for reading my story and for sharing in my pain. Thank you too, for your kind words of support and encouragement. ... I am so sorry that you too had suffered two losses. All the best to you and your DH in your baby-making journey and I wish you success in the not to distant future. ***

Recently an ex-colleague cum good friend told me about 2 rumours that had been circulated about me back at my old workplace. She was upset for me because she knew that they are all untrue.

According to rumour #1, I quit so suddenly because I found out that I am pregnant and wanted stop work to rest. This is certainly untrue, but I wouldn't have minded if it's the case... unfortunately, I am 200% certain that when I left my job, I definitely wasn't pregnant. After being on a fertility program for so many months, I have mastered my own cycle well. I left my job on 15 Oct and the ovulation date was 28 Oct, how to be pregnant??

Rumour #2 is a rather ridiculous one... I wonder how it came about. According to this rumour, I have been undergoing numerous IVF treatments and they have not been successful. Hence I wanted to quit so that I can concentrate full-time on baby-making. Ok whatever... I guess to the layman, 'fertility program' equates only to IVF. Many people do not realize that there are so many facets to it, Clomiphene, FSH, IUI, IVF (and possibly heaps more that I don't know about).

Frankly, they are really no big deal and I don't really care about what's being said, but what I am curious about is who started these rumours.

To set records straight, the main reason (70%) why I quit my job so suddenly is simply because I have had enough of it... enough of travelling/ city-hopping, enough of early morning/ late night conference calls, enough of solving problems for other people, enough of cleaning up other people's sh*t, enough of office politics...

As for the remaining 30%, it's because I badly need a break from the rat race, and I need to find my focus, relook at my purpose in life and what I want out from it. And if this 'break' relaxes my body and mind enough for me to conceive, then it'd be an added bonus; the icing on the cake.

Ok, rant over. I've said my peace.

Daddy's Girl

It is so unfair and I am so jealous... For two days in a row, Mark has heard Chloe's song!! Once was when he was in the car coming home the day before, and the second time was during lunch yesterday. Just goes to prove once again that my little Chloe is really daddy's girl... she's always had her own way of letting her daddy know/ feel her presence, and it always only happens when Mark is on his own. I wonder what message she was trying to give him. Mark thinks maybe she wants to remind us not to forget about her.

Dear Chloe, just in case you are reading this honey, mama wants you to know that daddy and I will never forget about you and Lucas ever. Both of you will always be a part of our bodies, a piece of our hearts.

I am so annoyed with someone --- ME! Well, for a long time, I have been saving some of the SMS that Mark sends me, mainly the romantic, sweet ones and the ones that he sent to me on special occasions. He tends to sent me some really sweet messages especially when I am travelling, and those messages never fail to bring a smile to my face and make me feel so loved. And then what did I do? This morning, I deleted all of them by mistake!!! I am so not my favourite person at this moment.

Strangely enough, I don't know why I always tend to lose the things that Mark gives me... especially the ones that I treasure the most. Early on in our relationship, I lost the first ever present he gave me when he was trying to court me. It was a set of 6 alphabet Forever Friends bears that spell out 'I Love U'. I treasured those bears a lot, until I lost them while shifting house.

Amongst other things, one of the most important one that I have lost are the 2 babies he gave me, my Lucas and Chloe. Hope that I'll be better at safe-guarding the gifts from him in future.

I have been 'cheating' a fair number of people for lunches/ dinners lately from ex-colleagues to long-lost friends... It feels good actually because my time now is spent doing things that I WANT to do and being with people whom I WANT to be with, rather than doing things that I HAVE to do and meeting people whom I HAVE to meet. I can finally say that for once, my time is now in my own hands, and I have regained some semblance of 'control' over my life.

The part of my life that I still do not (and probably never will) have control over is my quest to have a baby. Day 12 and counting... with crossed fingers.

Since I have so much time on my hands nowadays, I spent a lot of the time poring over newspapers and exercising my thumb (i.e. channel surfing). This article below was reported in last week's news... I was dumbfounded when I saw it. I wonder how can a 10 year old, who is really still a child herself, give birth?? Geez, I didn't get my period until I was 12 going on 13. Whoaa... kids nowadays sure mature REAL fast.

With that said, at least the 10 year old mother was more successful than I was in protecting her baby.

Today is Day 11, and I am starting my 3 day countdown to Day 14. Hope I do not get my period.

This case had been widely reported in the news the last 2 days and I have been following it with avid interest - A couple in Singapore went for IVF treatment and the wife was successfully impregnated, only to find that there was a screw up and the sperm used wasn't that of her Caucasian husband's.

Interestingly, from what I gathered from the reports, what first triggered this was that the newborn's complexion was 'markedly different from the parents'... I am not quite sure I understand what this means... was the baby dark skinned?? The other telltale sign was that the baby's blood type was B, whilst the parents are O and A, so technically it is impossible for parents with O and A blood types to produce a B type baby. Earlier on, the news also reported that this baby may be fostered out (although subsequent reports confirmed that the parents will be keeping the baby because the mother had already bonded with the newborn).

As someone undergoing fertility treatment, or ART (Assisted Reproduction Technology) as my clinic calls it, and who may very well be undergoing IVF at some stage, I tried putting myself into that situation. Strangely, my attitude was rather blase. The inital shock and disbelief of the parents is understandable, but what happens after reality sinks in and the dust in settled?

I am sure this couple had fertility issues and that was why they had to resort to IVF. Even with IVF, it does not mean that pregnancy will result. Knowing how difficult the road to conception and a subsequent successful pregnancy is, I think I'd cling on to this baby and pray that I won't be forced to give it up if I were in their shoes. At the end of the day, the mother carried and nourished the baby in her womb for 10 months, and I am sure her husband did share with her every moment of joy during those 10 months when they saw the baby on ultrasound, when they first found out its gender, when the baby started moving/ kicking, when preparing the nursery, when buying the clothings/stroller, birthing the baby...

I am sure it is harder on the husband than it is on the wife because at least half the baby's DNA was the wife's. For the husband, he'd have to accept that the baby he will be bringing up does not share any of his DNA. Honestly does this really matter? Sure, the baby's genetic father is someone else, but it is not as if the wife had an affair with another person which resulted in a 'lovechild'. Anyway, it's easy for me to say cos I am not in their shoes and I am dying to have a baby. So my perspective is somewhat skewed.

Purely out of curiosity, I asked Mark what he thought about this whole subject IF this happened to us. His simple answer was (in typical Singaporean fashion) 'Aiyoh, what to do?? It is still ours what...'

For a long time, Mark had been bugging me to do a 'stock take' on all my handbags.I have always brushed him off cos I felt it was a rather lame thing to do. I'm not quite sure why, but I made a spur of the moment decision to do it yesterday. I should have trusted my instinct and ignored any of Mark's 'bright ideas'... Taking out the bags from the boxes was easy, but putting them back was a nightmare!! All in all, it took me close to 3 hours to pack them back into the cupboard.

Since I have done it, it is also be a good thing cos I can have a clear idea of what I have, and I am toying with the idea of selling some of the ones which I rarely use (that's about 40% of it). Obviously, now that I am not working, any extra moolah that I can get out of it will be useful too.

Oh dear, something strange is happening on my left hand, the palm to be exact. Little reddish itsy bitsy blisters are sprouting up suddenly... they don't hurt, but it is rather gross looking if I scrutinise it. I don't know what I did to cause them, and I have no idea how to get rid of them!! Strangely, it's only affecting the left side, the right side seems normal so far.

(Oh and I suddenly realized how much my dear husband loves me... last night when I tried to hold his hand, he shrugged me off with a 'Eeeks, is it contagious or not?'. Puts new meaning to our wedding vows 'in sickness and in health'...)

Hmmmm... it seems like I have already waited a long time, but today is ONLY day 06 post ovulation!! I need to wait until day 14 or so to see if my period comes. Hoping that 'something' is happening inside me now. When I still had a job, the 14 days didn't feel so much of a drag because I had something to keep my mind occupied. Now that I spend most of the day with me, myself and I, time seems to be craaaawwwwwling by reaaaaaally slooooowly.

This reminds me of one of William Shakespear's quotes:

Time is slow for those who wait

Too fast for those who fear

Too long for those who lament

Too short for those who celebrate

But for those who love, time is eternal.

My sister gave me these 2 Precious Moments figurines a while back, but I haven't had any space where I can display them, hence they have been lying in their boxes for quite some time. Now that I have a lot of time on my hands, I cleared off one out of three of Mark's DVD shelf to make way for my figurines!! (one down... two more to go!!)