I think I found your baby

This entry was meant to be an epitaph of sorts. In fact, there were so many ways i had planned to say goodbye.
Backtracking to Thursay 2am, (or rather friday morning), i woke up in the middle of the night to discover i was bleeding, not just spotting, like full on bleeding. Determined not to panic (trying to think, what would hubby do in this situation?), I waited for a while before waking hubby to report said news. After praying, we decided the sensible thing was to report ourselves to KKH immediately, but what about our sleeping little one? thankfully, a phone call in the dead of the night and a very wonderful brother-in-law availed himself, sleepy but very concerned. He will watch over maeve while we make that frightening trip. at the hospital, the doctor scanned me for the longest time and evaded all my questions of "how is my baby?". Finally, he angled the ultrasound machine at me and pointed and explained the picture i saw in front of me. It was a black hole with what seemed like debris, floating about. Sort of like the dark sky with litter. where's the baby, i asked. at once fearful. You have already begun the process of miscarriage. i am sorry. what you see are the products of pregancy that have already started to disintegrate. i howled. weeping is an inadequate word to describe the sounds of pain and anguish that coursed through me. I'd like to ward you. he said. We'll do a detailed ultrasound tomorrow. the results won't change, I'm sorry, but the detailed U/S will help us with the evacuation. That's what they call it when they suck up what's left-over from the womb. to evacuate. Like leaving a building because of some terrorist attack. No. Hubby said. We will not ward her. We will go home and come again tomorrow for the procedure. Hubby knew we needed the space, the privacy, our home, to mourn. And we did, over hot milo at home, recalling the insane reality of this pregnancy, remininscing about how this little one likes noodles and scorns cereal, my usual breakfast. We thought about how to tell Maeve, who has been fiercely protective over her yet to be born sibling. who had already named her sibling.

Friday morning. 11am. detailed scan at KKH radiology department.

The form i took to the scan said, to confirm a miscarriage. The radiographer smiled and spoke to me, engaging me in small talk. i barely heard a word, so numb was i to anything. She sensed my grief and encouraged me. an angel sent at my hour of need. I told her more than i should tell a stranger, i told her how i couldn't conceive naturally and how this was a miracle, albeit short lived.

She was quiet for a while and then said, I'm not supposed to tell you this as I'm not a doctor, but i can see how heartbroken you are. She angled the machine to face me. i looked at it. there was no debris, just a black hole and a white dot. I looked at her, not comprehending.
I think i found your baby. she said.
what do you mean? my thoughts were, ok, at least i knew there was a baby, and not a blighted ovum with no growing fetus. it was closure, i could look at the screen and say goodbye.
And here, she continued, is the beating heart. i saw a white spot pulsating on the screen.and its beating well!

You mean? you mean? Its alive?!!!! We looked at each other, strangers locked in a swirl of powerful emotions.

I floated out of the room, a crazed smile on my face. hubby was troubled. he expected to be my pillar of strength as i came out, collapsed in tears, as i did yesterday. i showed him the ultrasound. what does it mean? what's this? what's this dot? i smiled and he knew. we were giggling like 7 year olds with a secret. we giggled all the way out of the department, carrying our secret ultrasound.

yes, said the doctor. this is your baby. it is a viable pregnancy. rest in bed. don't move about too much because of your bleeding. yes mdm!

Did i mention that maeve named this little one isaac? She said, his name is isaac, the son of abraham. when i read that chapter of the bible, hubby pointed to me that abraham was prepared to sacrifice his son to God, but he had, in faith told his servant, wait here for us, WE will return. he didn't say, I will return. He believed that even if he did burn Isaac as a sacrifice, somehow God will resurrect him someway. return him someway.

I believe our little one went to heaven on thursday night and returned on friday morning. I believe my God is one of miracles. My baby was lost and now is found, was gone and now is alive!

mixed blessings

Well, after a long hiatus from blogging owing to various reasons,
laziness being chief, I'm happy to announce that style="font-weight:bold;">we are expecting number
2.yes, it took us completely by surprise, given our
previous failed attempt last year with the frozen transfer. I was so
shocked i just jumped up and down, probably an unwise move! The
wonderful thing is our little prophetess proclaimed, even before i even
knew i was pregnant, that there was a baby in my tummy. she prayed for
the baby over manyconsecutive nights and after 2 weeks, she was right!
the not so good news is I'm spotting, which means the womb is not so
stable, and at a 6 weeks plus ultrasound, thegynae couldn't find the
baby, only the gestational sac. I'll have to go back in 2 weeks when
the baby will hopefully stop hiding. so, really, these few days have
been filled with trepidation and downright terror. Reading the word has
calmed me down heaps, especially after staring at the big dark circle
in the ultrasound where the baby should appear as a speck, but did not.
Psalms 139:11 all the way reassured me, especially the bit about hiding
in the dark, but God still sees. i thought of the dark ultrasound
straight away as did hubby as i read it. so am claiming it as a promise
from God, that this little one is a bit shy and in hiding! If you are
reading this, pray alongside us, and if you have a word from God for
us, so let me know. i could use the reassurance.

poetry in motion

"mummy, my poo-poo is falling like soft petals".

poet in the making?

me time

I realise how much my identity has been tied to that of being a mother that i've somehow lost a bit of me in the process. Tonight, i daringly went out for a play sans hubby sans bub and really enjoyed the whole stroll by myself to victoria theatre, actually watch a night performance rather than matinee, catch up with friends over drinks after the show thing. And for a while, i forgot about my mummy-tag. AND, i say this with guilt, i actually liked that i forgot about it. Even though i knew i was playing at the whole footloose fancy free thing, it was nice, if only for a fleeting moment. So when hubby summoned me home as bub refused to sleep unless i was beside her, i was VERY tempted to just say, i'm enjoying myself, YOU put her to bed and i'll see you past midnight. BUT! the guilt thing happened and of course i abandoned everyone and slunk home, slightly resentful, terribly guilty for enjoying myself...but heeding the call of motherhood. i wonder if fathers have such guilt feelings or is it just mothers who are wired that way. So there i was, having a wonderful conversation spanning greek history and performance theory to the latest developments in this or that (the sort of conversation i haven't had in a long time) and all the while, supressing the bleep sound in my head that I'm wanted and missed by my little one. Perhaps i should do a poll about this motherhood and guilt thing so i know i'm not the only one who constantly feels guilty for enjoying myself sans child.

Sexuality education

"mummy, when i grow up, i want to have the long long one." (points between her legs)
"Sweetie, you won't ever have it as you are a girl. only boys have it."
"like daddy, and grandpa?"
"yes. and it is called a penis"
"peanuts?"
"No. Penis"
"peanuts....grandma likes to eat peanuts right?"

conversing with God

Did i mention that toddlers are terribly cunning? mine is not only cunning, she still believes she's God (or at least, she loves pretending to be). One long trying afternoon, as I was trying to get her to nap, by pretending to sleep too (this usually works as she would look around bored, then fall asleep), the little one just refused to close her eyes. She was horizontal, but talking nineteen to the dozen...to herself. in effect, she was having a duologue with God, but you see, she plays both parts, her, and God.

In deep scary voice as God "Maeve, you were naughty just now right?"
in her own voice " yes God, I was bad"
deep voice "Then you need to apologise to mummy"
her voice "i know God, but mummy is asleep, so I can't say sorry."

Of course, hard to remain in a pretend sleep mode when these sorts of conversations with God goes on!

and the bug goes round and round

it has been almost a month and our family is not free from this unrelenting bug. it always starts with the kids and then it goes to the adults. I've now fallen victim to it after fending it off valiantly for what seemed like ages while the little one succumbed almost immediately. darned! wished i was still breastfeeding her then maybe she'll have more immunity! now that I'm down with the usual fever and cough, it has been hard on the little one as I cannot hug her too much, certainly cannot kiss her and have to wear a mask and sleep apart from her. she tried her best to be understanding, even fetching water, thermometer etc on the first day, but now, is inconsolable as she has not been kissed for 3 days and 3 days is a very long time for someone who needs lots of kisses and cuddles. Her daddy has been great, trying to do all the things i do with her, bed time stories, bathing, cuddling, but i guess it is not quite the same. just now, she teared pitifully, saying she wanted to stroke mummy's hand to sleep. i offered her daddy's, saying it was the same thing. she shot me the kind of look that can only come from teenagers, and burst into tears, begging me to sleep with her, and offering to boot her daddy out instead. Poor daddy will probably have to contend with her sleeping on his chest the entire night as he strokes her to sleep. i just hope i'll be up and about tomorrow as i hate being so absolutely useless, just pretty much moving from a horizontal position on the bed to another horizontal one on the sofa, alert only when Panadol Max does its magic.I guess sometimes i expect too much from a 2 year old. how can i hope she'd understand mummy needs to wear a mask, be horizontal, not do jumping jacks? So all mums can never hope for time to rest and recuperate. they can only pray that they will recover instantly so that they can continue their jobs as mums.