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Tuesday 9 June 2015

Life has thrown me with difficulties

I know that my life isn't the worst. There are definitely others out there who have experienced a much more difficult life than I have. And we all know that life doesn't always work out the way we want. But life has definitely thrown me difficulties in different phases of my life.

When I was younger..
As a small kid, I was carefree.. I did reasonably okay in my junior school and went to a relatively good elementary school. From 14, and as any typical Singaporean kid, I decided that it was important to do well academically. I did not have any desired career path I wanted to take then, but I just studied hard with the hope of getting into a good, reputable high school, and I did it. It involved a lot of stress and hard mugging (until 3a.m. at nights), and I got anxiety attacks nearer to the final exams, but I thought it was all worth it. I got into the top high school in Singapore. At that phase, with keen interest in Biology and the sciences, I decided that I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to help people and save lives.

After high school, I got an interview with the local university's medicine faculty. But I said something during the interview that I was sure had got me rejected. I also did not have enough funds for overseas studies. I was dejected. I cried. That was all I ever wanted. I had lost all direction in life.

I didn't want to study Pharmacy, and went for the practical route - Accountancy/Finance. At the start of university, I was depressed. I woke up everyday thinking why this had happened to me. Why were most of my peers in Medicine while I was doing something I wasn't even interested in? I didn't hang out with many peeps in university, I was a hermit crab. I refused to fit in. I had no interest at all. Even till now, I still don't like meeting my peers who are doctors now.

Then, life took a turn and gave me an opportunity to go for an overseas exchange in Sweden for a semester (6 months). That was the best time of my life. I made good friends there (those from my university who went with me). It opened up my perspective - there is so much to life, there is so much to explore, you see so many different people and places, life is not just about studying and doing well, life is short.

After I was back in exchange, I was more open to having a boyfriend, a commitment, on top of just studying. And I met my husband... If I had gone into Medicine, I would not have met him.

Married life
Of cos, everything went smoothly, we dated and got married. I got a job which is secure and offers much learning, with a good work life balance.

Then, life threw me even more difficulties at a higher level... Infertility issues, with 3 unsuccessful pregnancies. And my emotions from university were replayed once again - I was dejected, I cried, I woke up everyday thinking why this happened to me, I was a hermit crab. Now, for an even more extended period.. 3 years of such emotions replaying and replaying..

I questioned myself all the time - I've always been a stressed-up person since elementary school (read above), and have some anxiety attacks at times when I get exposed to something stressful. I get stressed at work often too. I wonder if this is the cause for my infertility issues. But I also acknowledged that stress is commonplace for everyone in Singapore, a busy and hectic city...

I also asked myself - Why is life so smooth for all my peers and friends? They did okay too and have okay jobs. They have no problem in their pregnancies and have children easily.. While I am given so many challenges and obstacles in life..

When life was hard in university, something good came out of it. Now after being faced with these infertility issues, I hope that something good will come out of it soon too...





Sunday 7 June 2015

My husband's lack of ability to save

My husband has always been a spendthrift. He has never learned to save. He spends his pay check month after month. He earns about $3,000 more than me every month, so why can't he save when I can??

Granted that he has to pay for the car loan installment and petrol which comes up to $2,000 a month, and he pays for most of our meals which is definitely much less than $1,000 a month..

However, I cannot ignore the fact that he continuously succumbs and buys things which are not necessary... (our house also gets very cluttered as a result but that's besides the point). To give a simple illustration, we have THREE weighing scales. THREE. They are placed beside each other at the entrance of our apartment now. And they cost about $500 in total. He replaces his gadgets so often even when there is nothing wrong with his current gadgets. He buys laptops after laptops, monitors after monitors, computers after computers. He even bought a trek mill for our apartment when we have a gym downstairs!!!!

Why am I so bothered about this?? Well, I have paid about $3,000 in total for consultations during the 9 weeks of my previous pregnancy, and he paid $1,000 as deposit for the d&c. I just got charged $2,000 for the remaining of the d&c fees, and asked if he could contribute. He avoided the question, which really pissed me off. When I asked again, he just said 'what do you want me to do?', which pissed me off even further.

We have always been contributing $1,000 to our joint account for our household expenses, and he didn't contribute this May. I asked him to do it, and he said he has no money. Why? He recently bought a laptop and got charged $4,000. Before he bought the laptop, I had asked him multiple times if his finances could allow it as I trusted him.

You see why I am so angry with him now?? 



Wednesday 3 June 2015

Back to work but not emotionally stable

After 2 weeks recovering at home, I was back at work yesterday.

Still emotionally unstable

Was supposed to have lunch with a group of people but I felt like walking around alone and did some grocery shopping. Was back in office during lunch time when no one was around, and I bumped into my big boss at the lift lobby (he's my boss' boss' boss' boss - really BIG boss!). He said happily 'I heard you are pregnant!'. I didn't know what to say but I mustered a 'no more...' and I broke down in front of him. 

He walked towards me and told me multiple times not to worry, that it wasn't my time and my time would come someday. He knew it was my second miscarriage. It was quite a one sided conversation as I was unable to speak properly while I was crying. I have never cried in front of a boss before in my 7 years of working experience.

I dropped him an email after and thanked him for his encouragement, and he asked me out for lunch the week after. If there was any boss I had to cry in front of, I would rather it be him. He is such a sweet and nice boss, always caring about his staff. I know he's married with no kids... and would want to know more about him during that lunch. It would be quite a personal lunch..

At some random moment at work yesterday and today, I would start tearing uncontrollably. I guess it takes time to heal..

Support from Instagram

Every day I would check into my Instagram account. The support you get on Instagram is amazing... How there are so many women out there having the same situation and sharing their experiences.. I have gotten some tips and advice from others.. I post something whenever I am feeling down, and the responses you get from people who understand you are heartwarming.. Although I remain anonymous on Instagram, I seek solace and comfort from these women.

Well... I'm just waiting day by day, hoping for my period to come soon so that I can do those blood tests!




Sunday 31 May 2015

The movie 'UP' became personal

Remember the 'UP' movie animation?

The childhood friends got married, and they decided to have kids. But they couldn't.. I remember that when I watched it in 2009, for that short 3 minutes at the beginning of the film, I cried for the couple, for not being able to have kids, and subsequently for the man who lost his wife when they grew old. My heart really ached for them.



4 years after that movie, it became personal for me. As I watched the short clip again, I couldn't help but tear again.. I am not sure if we would be like the couple in 'UP' in future..

Infertility issues are not talked about much in society. Pixar and Disney had done a good job including some realistic elements into the cartoon and increasing the awareness of infertility.


Some comments hurt

I'm back at my laptop writing to vent some frustration.. Went to lie on the bed after playing some computer games with the guys, only to find myself in despair.. I guess I was partly affected by the comments made by people who knew about my miscarriages.. I know that everyone meant well, but some comments just didn't help.

Comment #1 (made today)

I had told someone that I wasn't that hungry near dinnertime as I had some chocolates beforehand. The person frowned and said "You have to build up your constitution. Eat healthy - more fish, vegetables."

Thoughts: I have always had a healthy lifestyle. I avoided fatty and oily food. I ate more fish and vegetables than anyone in that family. I exercised - jogged, trekked, did weights etc. I had eaten even healthier during those pregnancies. Why do you have to frown upon me eating a few bits of chocolate? You made it seem as if I had poor constitution and therefore the miscarriages.

Comment #2 (made today)

After that someone said I have to build up my constitution, person no. 2 gave me a "high 5" and said that I could join the "build the constitution" club as she was always falling ill. Then person no. 3 exclaimed "touch wood!" to person no. 2. 

Thoughts: I don't think I even have to elaborate on how hurtful that was.. It just made me feel like a failure..

Comment #3 (always made)

"You are still young. You can always try again."

Thoughts: I don't even think I am that young anymore. Even if I am, so? I have had 3 failed pregnancies in 3 years and the future seems very uncertain now.

Comment #4 (usually made)

"At least you're married. I am still single and you are way ahead of me."

Thoughts: So what if I have gotten married earlier than some people? Many of my peers have already had 1 or 2 babies. And I am faced with an infertility issue. You are single, but you may not have this issue. You may have a smooth journey ahead of you. Is being single now worse than being faced with infertility issues like me?


Again, I know that everyone is trying to help or make me feel better, and they do not mean any harm. But they haven't been through what I have gone through, or experienced the same magnitude of grief and sadness. They wouldn't understand how I would feel with certain comments made..

And tonight, I go to bed feeling like a failure and without much hope left within me... I have been trying to be optimistic, but I don't know how long more I can last before I completely breakdown..




Wednesday 27 May 2015

Being a Social Recluse

Disappointed Friends

Today I had to tell another friend (Friend #1) about my situation as I might have disappointed a group of friends by being a social recluse during my last pregnancy.

I avoided social situations while I was pregnant as I preferred resting at home given that I had a miscarriage before, and did not respond to group chats or messages much. I had agreed to meet the group on a certain day to celebrate a friend's (Friend #2) birthday and pulled out last minute. Suggested another date (a much later date closer to my second trimester) and no one replied. I guessed as much that Friend #2 was upset and I would understand why.. It was an important occasion and I seemed very nonchalant about it. Friend #1 must have been disappointed as well.

Today, one week after the d&c, I felt that I had to arrange a celebration for Friend #2 now that I have recovered. Asked Friend #1 about it and she commented that I had been "missing in action" and that Friend #1 was sad. I had no choice but to let her know about my incident.. and she felt so bad.. I would prefer not to let anyone know about this, but I had to this time as I treasure our friendship.. And I do not blame her for being disappointed in me beforehand as I did not tell her anything.

Friend #1 is one of my few friends who knows about my whole history, and have given me lots of encouragement.

Being a Hermit Crab

Before I lost my innocence, I was always happy to meet and socialize with friends and new people. I would attend most gatherings and parties, and arrange meet ups with different groups of friends. But now, I'm a total hermit crab.. I guess it is part and parcel of infertility, to avoid social situations, to avoid looking at Facebook or Instagram with friends posting about their new borns or toddlers etc.

The first step right now would be to heal myself.. physically and emotionally.. before letting myself out into the world again. Despite the issues you are facing, I feel it is important to continue to keep in touch with your close friends, hang out, laugh together and be happy.





Tuesday 26 May 2015

Touching and Inspiring story from a Hong Kong journalist

I came across a recent article (May 2015) written by a journalist from Hong Kong. She had written about the increasing trend of miscarriages 11 years ago. And years later, she experienced the same thing.. 2 miscarriages.. She now has a baby girl, and I am very happy for her.

I hope this article also inspires those who have been through the same. There is hope in everything as long as you believe. Have faith everyone!! <3



Loss and love on the journey to parenthood

As a young reporter 11 years ago, I wrote about an alarming trend: The number of miscarriages in Singapore was going up, up and up.
I got the statistics, spoke to a woman who had experienced a miscarriage, interviewed five doctors and probed a politician on possible ways to address the problem.
It was an assignment to me, a story to be done before I moved on to the next.
A decade on, the issue became personal. Within six months, I had not one, but two miscarriages.
In May 2013, I found out that I was pregnant. It was unplanned but my husband and I, after some initial adjustment, were thrilled.
After all, we had been married for four years but somehow life had got in the way of making space for children: I went overseas to do a master's degree, then waited for a posting as a foreign correspondent. I was then 34, just a year from being defined as a geriatric mother - or what doctors call a woman of advanced maternal age.
We saw a doctor in Hong Kong where we were now based. He did a scan.
Congratulations, he said. There was a gestational sac - the first sign of pregnancy but no yolk or heartbeat. But that's normal, he declared. It's early days yet.
We returned to Singapore for a break and as a surprise to our best friends who had just had a baby. We popped champagne and I had an illicit sip, a toast to the new addition to our group as well as the embryo growing - I thought - inside me.
Back in Hong Kong, we went back to the clinic. The news was not good this time. The sac had not expanded, which meant the pregnancy was not progressing as it should. I'm sorry, said the doctor.
We were upset, of course.
But I sought comfort in research and statistics, including the ones I had cited in my own article from years before. One in five known pregnancies ends in miscarriage. Some of us, I told my husband and myself philosophically, just have to make up the numbers.
We decided I would have the procedure "to clean up" at the public hospital. Like many others who had miscarriages, we told few people. I explained to my office that I had to take a few days off work for a "medical procedure" and left it at that. In hospital, I finished Salman Rushdie's new memoir Joseph Anton and kept tabs on the Edward Snowden saga then unfolding in Hong Kong.
But my husband and I had changed. Within just two short weeks of being pregnant, our world had shifted. We had begun to plan and dream, to think of what it would be like to be parents, from how we would dress the child to what values we would impart.
Two months later, I conceived again. This time, we were not so innocent in our joy. We waited till we saw the heartbeat on the ultrasound screen twice - a red dot pulsating amid a mass of variegated greys and blacks - before we told our parents.
On our third visit, when I was about 11 weeks along, I complained of slight abdominal cramps. Probably just ligament pains as the uterus stretches, the doctor - a different one - reassured me as she moved a transducer over my belly.
My husband, reaching out for his camera to take a photo of the screen, stilled. It was all darkness. The heartbeat had stopped.
This time, there was little bravado left in us. We opted for a private hospital where I would have a dilation and curettage operation that night.
We shared a room with a Hong Kong couple in their early 20s, who we gathered were there for an abortion and were placed in the awkward situation of having to listen to me tearfully break the news to my mum over the phone.
They went first. As they left, the young man whispered: "We're sorry."
Our turn came. In the operating room, my doctor, her pearl necklace shimmering from her surgical scrubs, loomed over me. Later, as I emerged from the haze of general anaesthesia, I blearily asked her: "Did you see if it was a boy or a girl?" She shook her head gently at me.
Silly me. It was all scraped up and sucked out.
Medically, recurrent pregnancy loss is defined as more than two miscarriages in a row. We were two strikes down, one more to go. But as anyone who has gone through miscarriage will know - and without meaning to diminish the pain for those who suffered even more loss - one is one too many.
So we went through test after test searching for causes. Nothing stood out. The only certainty, said the doctor, was my age. Fact is, old eggs are old, which means a higher risk that embryos with genetic abnormalities are incubated.
That there was all this uncertainty made it harder.
It was an invisible grief. We returned to work, looking the same on the outside but bereft within.
There had been no wake, no funeral, no body to be buried. We did not even know what to call our losses - technically they were not babies; the first was "just" an embryo while the second was "old enough" to be a foetus.
I grappled with my feelings. Somehow, society speaks of miscarriages in hushed tones - the word itself seems to suggest some kind of responsibility on the part of women who "mis-carry" their children. See how we use the word when we describe legal travesties as a "miscarriage of justice".
The fact is, why miscarriages happen is often shrouded in mystery, and most times, say doctors, they are beyond one's control. Yet, the secrecy surrounding it leaves much ignorance about the issue.
For many, what we know of miscarriages is what we have seen on television - a woman falling down and ending up with blood on her thighs.
Is it any wonder that many who have gone through it choose to keep silent?
I was fortunate to have family and close friends who gave us enormous support.
My husband and I certainly were not ashamed of what had happened. But we were in pain and we were not sure talking incessantly about it would help.
Furthermore, what could we expect people to say except an awkward "I'm sorry"? Unlike for other bereavement, there is no social ritual for coping with this particular kind of death.
Yet, I did feel an irrational resentment that not more people knew of our losses. It was not exactly sympathy I wanted. It was recognition, I think, that a loss from a miscarriage was felt as keenly as any other.
And, I wonder, if more speak more openly of their experiences, would those who have experienced the same pain feel less alone?
It is a personal issue, and different people will feel differently.
In all honesty, I began writing this only as my husband and I were waiting to welcome our daughter.
Kei An, weighing 3.25kg, measuring 49cm and boasting a nose like her father's, finally arrived last Tuesday, six days past her due date.
Without the hope she represents, I am not sure I could write about our past losses.
But what I do know is that as my husband and I get to know this little one, we will also remember our other babies gone before her.