Again...

Barely 3 days after we made up from our last quarrel, Mark and I had a huge fight yesterday and we both said some pretty hurtful things to each other in a fit of pique. He feels that I am too excessively obsessive in my quest to have a baby (I don't deny this)... In fact, this same comment was made to me by another person whom I once held very close to my heart. On my part, I felt that he doesn't understand me. Fact is, having a baby is my primary goal at this point in life... I am fully aware that I may never succeed, but one day I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror without shame and tell myself 'I did my best, I gave it my all'.

To set the records straight to him (and everyone else) once and for all, why am I being so tenacious about this? Well, I am fully conscious that my biological clock is racing as the chances of conception reduces and complications increases with maternal age. As it is now, I am already struggling, so who's going to say what'll happen when I am 35, 37, 40?? I am trying to grab hold of all the time I have now to try and give my future offspring a better chance in survival. So, yes, I agree that I may be obsessive but if not now, then when? When I am 75?

While Mark was in the shower, I slipped out of the house and went out on my own for a couple of hours to do some thinking and let us have time to simmer off. What I did during those 3 plus hours was excitingly boring... but that's any story altogether. I don't think I have been more hurt by anything that Mark said before. I don't understand why he doesn't understand me. I don't understand how can someone whom I love so much can hurt me so bad. I feel betrayed because I had always thought that he and I are 'on the same team', but apparently not. Suddenly I feel so alone because my soulmate/ confidante/ best friend seems like a total stranger (and again, I had the urge to poke his eyeballs with my nicely manicured nails).

The only thought in my mind was if this is how things really are, then I don't want/ need this guy to be the father of my child (if I can have one, that is) anyway. Out of spitefulness, I bluntly told Mark this and I know he was very hurt by this remark... (My mom used to tell me when I was a little girl that 'An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind'. Guess there's truth in it).

We did eventually trash things out cos deep down, we know that we have a lot of love for each other. Love is the one thing that has kept us both going through all the ups and downs, thick and thins, laughter and tears, hopes and disappointments... we also share something special that no one else can ever partake - our Angels.

But at the end of it all, I had a nagging thought at the back of my mind... what happens when one day, the love runs out? Or what happens if love isn't enough anymore?

*** Darling, I am sorry (yes, again). Don't say that you are always the one giving in and apologizing okaaaaaay... Anyway, I know the things I said were very hurtful, but please know that what you said really cuts like a knife, that's why I reacted the way I did. Your comment is not something that I'd be able to forget in a long while.

P/S: I'd like to assure you that I did not intentionally plan to quarrel with you on a Sunday so that I can escape from my ironing duties... but thanks for doing it for the past 3 weeks! :P

I received a forwarded email from one of my ex-colleague who is based in the UK and I find the it very meaningful. This lady is one of the few people who continued to keep in touch with me via emails and SMSes even after I left the company. I worked very closely with her on my 'favourite' account for many years. As she in her early fifties, she's got a lot more experience than me both in terms of work and life in general... she became my mentor and taught me many things work-wise and also about life.

Here's the content of the email:


People come into your life for a Reason, a Season or a Lifetime.
When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with
guidance and support,
To aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
They may seem like a God send and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be...
Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on..

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it, it is real.. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you were a reason, a season or a lifetime.


Then the email was signed off with - 'From your Guardian Angel' and the pic below.

Clearly, Lucas, Chloe and 'the little one' are only meant to be in my life only for a Season. Truly, each of them have taught me so much... and in their own unique ways, each of them have brought me an unbelievable amount of joy (and also an immeasureable amount of pain), and opened my eyes to things I never knew (or things I knew but took for granted).

*** To my dearest Angels with much thanks from your mommy - Thank you for being in my life, even if it is only for a short season. Each of you will always be a part of me even after you are gone.

For the third (or is it fourth, perhaps even the fifth??) day in a row, Mark and I had our 'daily sqabbles'. This is rather unusual because our relationship had always been smooth and we rarely have any disagreements. Stupidly, our recent fights were over trivial matters (actually I cannot even recall what the trigger for last night's fight was about).

This morning, Mark sent me an email from office to let me know how he felt. He wondered if my recent mood swings and super-sensitivity was due to our recent loss of 'the little one' (this was how he referred to our #3 and I thought it was sweet). Frankly I don't know what's wrong either, but I think the most probable cause is indeed the loss of 'the little one'. While this time it may not have devastated me as much as when I lost Lucas and Chloe, there were still hopes and emotions attached to this baby for those 10 days we had him/ her.

Most of Mark's email went by in a blur (blah.. blah.. blah...) and I only stopped right at the last sentence cos it brought tears to my eyes. Considering the fact that I have been very emotional, this shouldn't come as a surprise. Anyway, this was what he wrote 'Remember, Keat Keat (this is my pet name for Mark which is also part of his dialect name) wants to grow old with you.'

This morning (way before I read his email), Adam Sandler's 'Grow Old with You' kept playing (and replaying) in my head. I've always liked this song, especially the part about the remote control cos the TV controller in our bedroom is very 'highly prized' and almost nightly, we try to wrangle control over it... However, I didn't see any significance of the song until I read Mark's email. Coincidence?

** Darling, I am sorry I have been irritable/ emotional/ cranky and very hard to live with during the past week. I know I have made your life rather miserable even though you are having a rough time at work and at the same time also grieving over the loss of 'the little one'. I appreciate that you always take the time and effort to explain and rationalise things to me, and your never ending patience with me. Although when we have our tiffs, there are times when I really want to poke your eyeballs with a fork/ my heels, but please know that for the other 95% of the time, I really do love you a lot. Hehehe...

P/S: The remote control belongs to M.E tonight (and tomorrow night, and the day after tomorrow...) ok?

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...