Good and Evil

I had to whisper the mantra "you are not worthy of my time and anger" as I was getting out of the taxi tonight.

The taxi driver was so rude first he refused to come up the ramp of our driving lot that gets us directly to the lobby, and after pleading with my 8 month pregnant belly that it is a little difficult for me to walk up the stairs after coming from the hospital where he waited in line and have picked us up (while I thought that should have been so obvious to him), he reluctantly drove up complaining the entire time.  Then he left the meter running while I was getting money out to pay him, and after I paid him the exact amount, the meter jumped and he demanded the extra HK$2.  Out of principle and his attitude I refused to pay him the extra HK$2 that he did not deserve and slammed the door shut.

I am sure he was cursing something pretty bad, but then thankfully my Cantonese is not that good so I actually didn't understand a word he was shouting out and just tuned everything out and went up the lift to go home.

Hong Kong can be so annoying with these ridiculously rude people sometimes.

There is evil, but then there is also good.

The numerous times someone gave up a seat for me on the bus, in the taxi line, and on the MTR.  One bus driver even picked me up a little before the station and dropped me off not at the station but closer to where I needed to get off just to save me some walking.  Luckily, people that can empathize and have a heart, still exist, in a city where patience is generally non existent and not rewarded.

I should also not forget that I have been a receiver of so many acts of kindness, from people I don't know, from people I know, and from people I barely know.

A good friend from business school introduced me via email to a friend of hers who had the same condition as me (vasa previa) and successfully delivered her baby in Washington DC earlier this year despite much more severe complication symptoms with bleeding and hospitalization from 22 weeks onwards until the baby was born.  I joked that my friend ought to be buying the lottery ticket  -- what are the odds of her knowing two people with this condition in one year!  One of the HK doctors we saw only had two cases in his entire career.  I felt so warmed by her friend's kindness to offer her time to speak to me in length in such detail about her experience, things to look out for, and words of encouragement.

I know we don't have much control in the world we live in, but I will endeavor to do my part, to teach little K to be one of those people that will bring warmth to someone else's heart one day, and make the world a place with one more soul of good than evil.

Little K's Future Food Supply

I almost forgot to record one of the more positive aspects of pregnancy -- my larger than life boobs. Something I could only dream of having in the past, now is sitting firmly above my bulging bump.  The airplane runway finally turned into Bay Watch.

However, with the size of the belly growing bigger, in comparison the boobs are starting to look less and less impressive.   Also, I realized how uncomfortable having big boobs actually is.  It's heavy, makes you hunch over like Quasimodo, and any of the bras that actually provide enough support looks anything but sexy, with shoulder straps wider than a highway and makes me feel like an old grannie wearing some 15th century clothing.   The other slightly embarrassing fact is combined with the radiator body temperature, I constantly have a sweat patch under my boobs, since the boobs actually touch the tummy when you are not sitting up straight.  Mic said I could win the alternative wet t-shirt contest now (if they determine the winner by the strangest natural wet t-shirt spots).

I find that I am looking at my own pregnant body more "function" driven than the radiating beauty that those black and white belly portraits in magazines portray (and I don't think I have time to arrange any artistic shots that if I am going to the hospital next week, plus mic continues to think they are very silly), so I guess these larger than life boobs will have to be content with the role of only being little K's future food supply.

Sept 24 -- Last Day of Work

Yesterday turned out to be my last day at work.

I wasn't exactly expecting that but the doctor's visit my main OB confirmed the plan that I should be getting steroid shots end of this week (week 33) to mature the baby's lungs, and admitted to the hospital end of next week (week 34) to be observed for when the best timing is for C-section, but aiming at some point 35/36 weeks for now.  It looks like we may have avoided a Scorpio baby after all, but then again I stopped caring for the star signs, the auspicious Chinese calendar dates -- I just want him out alive and healthy.

The good news is my doctor had dealt with 3 cases of vasa previa before, and 2 of them made it to 37 weeks full term, so he still thinks if we monitor closely there's a chance that little K will be born healthy just like the others he delivered before.  The last case apparently was diagnosed at birth and also turned out okay so my doctor was proudly telling us he has not lost a baby because of this condition.   In any case he doesn't think I should be at work and I had to agree with him -- with all this going on in my head and the emotional stress, I am surprised that I could even function at work some times.

The next time I am back in the office would be sometime in 2013 if all goes well after my 4 month maternity leave.

I didn't really say my goodbyes since the circumstances so sudden and condition so personal, I didn't share it with the "just colleagues" people but just my bosses and a few friends at work, and still had to nod and smile to people in the lift who congratulated me and asking me how things are going or when I was due.

This is it.  No more blackberries, no more heels and suits (well, I haven't been able to fit in either for a long time), no more banker cynicism, no more charts and presentation.  I am ready to be a mother, so bring it on.

Week 33: Fat Fingers

For the first time in 11 years, I will no longer be wearing my engagement ring.

Yesterday after dinner, I almost cut off the entire blood supply of my finger attempting to take off my ring.  In the end soapy water helped to solve the problem and left me with a finger in tact, but I didn't want to have to repeat the same episode every night, so the ring is going to the safe now, and back out when my finger returns to its normal size.

Other than my finger, apparently my arms are also getting bigger (so my dear husband tells me).  I really am not gaining that much weight in the third trimester so far, so I am blaming it all on the water retention that's making me look puffy and fat.  

While I am on the topic of mic pointing out all of my body parts that are getting bigger, he said to me the other day trying to help me get off my bed that I resembled a "beached whale", but then added the sentence that if I am a whale then he is like those Green Peace guys that help the whale.  I don't know to cry or to laugh.  Now I have learned to play along with the joke and calls the Green Peace troop HK rep to get me off the bed, off the sofa, massage the sore back and leg cramps, and even cut the toe nails I can no longer reach.  

It's not that bad being a whale, I am kinda liking my dedicated Green Peace dude.

Surprise Baby Shower

Mic and our friend Laura planned an amazing surprise baby shower last night.

I had no idea why mic was pushing me to take a shower in the evening since I have been in bed all day with my PJ's trying to get over this nasty flu that refuses to go away.  Until Laura showed up at the door with the cake boxes I realized my stubbornness to not take a shower was probably not a great idea and I wasn't going to be spending the evening alone curled up at the couch with my hot honey lemon drink.

They put together the event in two days apparently -- another thing that got expedited with my vasa previa condition since I might be in the hospital soon.   The evening was a small gathering of friends, with beautifully laid out canapes and good conversation.   I felt blessed with such amazingly beautiful friendships in life and touched so deeply in my heart -- all those that cried with me, laughed with me, went all the way to Hokkaido temple to buy me a 安產御守 (good luck charm for a safe birth), those that emailed, texted me from overseas to tell me that I am in their daily prayers and thoughts, those that encouraged me, wiped away my tears, and kept me strong.

The celebration, however, was bittersweet.

After just coming back from anther doctor yesterday afternoon, being told that the case was so rare I was the second one the doctor has ever encountered, and the risk so great if there is any fetal bleeding from the vasa previa most likely there will be nothing the doctor can do to save little K's life.  So all the bed rest and hospitalization recommendations were merely other doctors' way to show you they have tried to do something, but in reality the line between life and death is just a few minutes, unless I am already on an operating table, even the 15 mins to get me to the operating table while I am already in the hospital is not enough.  I sort of know that already from these two days of reading on the web, speaking to doctors but it still weighs a thousand pounds when someone with a medical degree says it out loud.

I am so afraid, afraid that I am getting my hopes up too high that I will see little K's face, hear his first cry in my arms, that every little sock, tiny hat, cute outfit, every gift, every memory of us trying to celebrate the arrival of him will be just too painful to bear if we don't make it that far.

My tears roll down with that thought of doubt, fearing I am not strong enough to even believe he will join our family, but the pain of fear was unbearable, and I couldn't stop that thought of doubt.

Mic said we should celebrate, no matter what happens, we should celebrate that have made it this far.  And yes, my dear little K, we should celebrate the miracle of life, watching you grow from that 4-cell embryo into a strong baby that makes those strong little kicks and brings a smile to our face, to the cute little face with that handsome little nose.  We should celebrate all the ups and downs you bring to our life, and the moments that you remind us how we are so blessed.

And yesterday, little K, you reminded mommy that I am so blessed with wonderful friendships, one of the greatest reasons that makes life worth living on earth.

Flu

For the first time in eight months, I didn't feel hot but felt cold.

I knew something wasn't right on Wednesday when I didn't feel having the office air-con blasting on me was a good feeling, and that very afternoon I started to have a watery nose, sore throat, followed by a low fever.

Luckily this is the first time (and hopefully the only time) I fell ill during this pregnancy.  Not being to have any drugs help you tame the symptoms clearly makes recovery a little less comfortable.  I was never the type to rely too much on drugs, so the course of recovery is not that different from how I would normally handle a flu - lots of fluid, and lots and lots of sleep seemed to always work.    Last night I woke up at 4am from a completely blocked sinus and inability to breathe, and decided to sleep sitting upright on the sofa instead.  Mic was so sweet and followed me, made me a hot lemon honey, and insisted on sleeping on the sofa so he can make sure I was okay.   With this level of care and attention, it will be a crime not to get better soon.

Alternative Plans

I tossed and turned all night.  

I stopped googling and reading about the condition.  Reading the losses just makes the fears worse.  I thought I was getting better at this, but I am still just a weak weak soul filled with fear.  Vasa previa has a 50- 90% infant mortality rate if not dealt with properly.   The thought that I could lose little K right at the finish line just makes me lie wide awake in the middle of the night, breaking out with cold sweet and tears.

Of course knowing is better than not knowing.  At least now we know, we have to make alternative arrangements and I may need to spend the next 4-6 weeks in a hospital, a little longer and earlier than I had anticipated, but at least we know the risk can be managed if we have the medical team on alert and me being in a medical facility is as close to managing the risk best we can.

I thought I could leisurely set up the baby room now that we finally no longer have occupying guests for the guest room, I had plans for putting up the cute safari wall stickers I got, putting the little clothes and stuffed animals in place, and was even planning on getting some belly photos taken in the new nursery once I get it done but now all of that seems not so important any more.  I just want little K to come out healthy and well, even if the room is just bare walls with a cot.

Getting into execution mode, I started to make arrangements to transition my roles at work a month earlier to the team, thinking about what I need to pack for the hospital stay, and also getting a few doctors lined up both for the care of me and the pediatrician for little K since he might come out pre-mature rather than the 38 week full term date we had scheduled.   The to-do list gets longer, the time seems so compressed.   It seems that long before becoming a parent we already have to learn to deal with the sudden changes and things constantly forcing us to be flexible and make alternative plans.

Mic is so strong throughout this process I often wonder if he needs to let out any tears like me before he can stay strong for us.  I am so blessed to have such an amazing husband, who stands by me like a rock, and I know that through the waves and tides, that I have all the love, support, prayers to keep me strong and standing tall.

Week 32: Previa Queen

I guess I should be called the "Previa Queen".

After the "placenta previa", I now have what's called "vasa previa", which is a very very rare condition (1:2500 reported cases) where the fetal blood vessel crosses the entrance to the birth cannel.  In my case, it's on the membrane in between my two placenta lobes and right by the cervix (about 0.7 cm away).   At the routine exam with the doctor today, she sat me down in that ever so serious face that I can just tell I am about to be hit with some bad news.

She's suggesting early hospitalization since that's the best prevention or way to deal with the situation, essentially an emergency c-section within 15 mins with bleeding or leaking water.   She was concerned that even though my home is 15 mins away from the hospital may not be fast enough to deal with the situation unless I am actually in the hospital for the doctors to operate on me literally right away, otherwise the baby's life is at risk.   The good thing is all else seems to be going well, baby is developing well, now at close to 2kg, and moving like a rock star.

Since she's my "back-up" doctor at Queen Mary hospital, I also need to speak to my main doctor and get a few opinions about what to do.  Reading up on the websites it seems that most people are hospitalized in the third trimester and having a c-section at 35 or 36 weeks.

I cried a little.  It's hard not to worry.  At the same time I continue to pray, that God has sustained me and little K this far, and he will not give up on us now.

 

I officially outweigh my husband

Stepping on the scale in the morning, I am officially heavier than Mic.

Considering there is at least another 7-8 weeks to go, I wonder what the final weeks will bring.  The backache is on just about 20 out of the 24 hours in a day (and the four hours when I don't feel it is probably when I am sleeping in between getting up to pee a million times at night), and all the physiotherapy, massage seems to only offer very very temporary relief.   But all of this weight indicates that little K is gaining strength inside, as evidenced by his stronger and stronger kicks that I feel all the time now.

Of course some of this weight inevitably is on me -- I am certainly aware of how big my face looks in all the photos now and have to do some screening before mic is allowed to download them onto our computer.

He said to me the other night while we were both at awe with how big my belly is now, "I think your thighs are also getting thicker"...  Not a smart move, my dear.  You try strapping on a 10 kg bowling ball to your abs and see if your thighs will grow bigger.

Week 31: We have a date!

There are two meanings to a "date".

First, Mic is super sweet and started to initiate our "weekly date night", where we dress up a little, find a nice restaurant, and spend an evening just the two of us.  He did it so we have a little time to ourselves while his parents are still staying with us in Hong Kong, but I hope this will be good practice before little K joins the family to remind us that we still need time for each other and will continue even after he arrives.  We had two dates so far and other than the fact that they start at 630pm and end before 9pm to accommodate the sleepy and tired pregnant lady, it's been great.

Second, it's "THE" date of little K's birth -- So this week's regular check up, the doctor has scheduled us in for a C-section at 38 weeks.   He said the placenta situation has improved, and now it's just the membrane in between my big and small placentas that's covering the cervix but not the placenta itself (don't ask me how it managed to split into two!  My strange placenta has a mind of its own, clearly -- from deciding to split from the uterus temporarily at week 7, to covering the cervix at week 22, to now splitting into two!?), so the risk of bleeding is somewhat reduced.  The cord is still close to the cervix and there's still a chance of rupture, but any bit of good news is good news, and we walked out of the doctor's office feeling like the day is just a little bit brighter.

And with that, instead of aiming for the 37 week mark and the "wait-and-see" approach, the doctor is now targeting a date during week 38 instead for the procedure.  He asked us if we had a date in mind -- I honestly never thought about being able to determine the birth date of our child, and was hoping he would sort of determine his own timing of coming to this world, but now that he asked, I wonder if I should check the Chinese calendar just in case.

Also, I guess there's no way of avoiding a Scorpio boy (even though I was again secretly hoping for a different star sign), so it will be the early November that we will get to meet him for the very first time.

Week 30: Hot Mama

Unfortunately not like how you might think the title suggests, the last thing I feel right now is the "attractive" type of hot, instead it is this constant radiator like heat coming from my body, together with the Hong Kong heat and humidity, making it just a little harder for these final months.

My air-con at home is always blasting at 23 degrees and yet I still feel the urge sometimes to strip naked and stand in front of an open fridge door to cool down (disclaimer: I haven't actually done that yet).   Luckily even according to the Chinese medicine wisdom once you are at the eighth month mark it is okay to consume foods with the "cool/cold" nature so I can finally have that juicy watermelon I have been eyeing for the last few months, not to mention I have long ignored the advise of not eating anything cold and chowed down ice cream and cold drinks for a few weeks already.

The most amusing thing is when I am up at 3am every night for my usual n+ times bathroom break that I see mic curled up under the sheet fully covered and wrapped in blankets while I am sleeping on top of all the sheets, still panting and reaching for the remote to turn on the ceiling fan.  This was such a contrast to me being the one that's always cold, and mic being the one that's always hot -- I guess with this role reversal I can finally sympathize with him and he can finally sympathize with me in the past.

Strange what hormones can do to you.