Flashback Week 10- Dr Fong Chuan Wee did Our First Ultrasound
Every Saturday marked the weekly birthday of the living bun in my womb. Today marked his 10th week birthday since the suspected date of conception - the wonderful miracle of life that has eluded our union more than five years ago. By now, we have confidently felt that baby is a he, his, him instead of a she, hers, her since my so called supernatural encounters.
It was 7.30am and I was wide awake not by the sunlight that was streaming into the master bedroom, but by the nagging thought that I should see a gynae as soon as possible. My initial calm for the past few weeks even in the face of spotting, was rocked by the news that my sis-in-law's 9 week old has no heartbeat and yet, she had not felt any spotting or cramping - no signs of baby's passing at all. I could not comprehend why a tiny bean could grow into a small wormy creature that resembles a tiny human form if you allow your imagination to take flight, but, yet, the heart has stopped beating without any hint. That means even if my spotting has stopped, it doesn't mean that a miscarriage has not taken place. The more I thought about it, the more I could not stay in bed.
I turned and saw my husband still sleeping with his mouth opened. Over the years, I had developed a deep understanding of knowing when he was truly sleeping or faking it. He had to open his mouth wide and perform some kind of snorting sounds. He was so soundly asleep that I could not bear to rouse him from his dreams. Between the two of us, I always felt that he was the more laid back one in our baby making business. I was the manager and he was the investor. There were also times where I thought that the very thought that baby making was made to look like it was some of a business was the very factor that had caused us to be in the red.
I made the solo decision that I had to see a gynae today and not week 11 which was next week. I had to know if the baby had a heartbeat. The not knowing would kill me for the whole week. I would not survive till week 11 and this would be so against my new battle strategy - reduce stress. Just like how devotees would shake the can of sticks in a temple when they are looking for directions or have their fortunes told, I prayed to God, "Dear God, may the gynae that allows me to visit him today be The Gynae for me."
Entertaining all these thoughts easily made an hour seemed like a minute. It was 8.30am. The clinics would be opened. I dialled NUH for Prof Biswas to see if there were any last minute cancellations to slot me in (This has been my daily ritual since week 9), fat hope. "Okay God, so Biswas is not The One," I consoled myself. Next, I dialled Choolani's private clinic. Prof Mahesh Choolani was the doctor who performed all sorts of tests for me to diagnose why I kept having early miscarriages. Surprisingly, there was a click and a lovely voice greeted me. Would he be The One? To my dismay, the staff informed me that Choolani Clinic could not accept me as a patient because my records were with NUH. They have signed some contract with NUH. Although I spent quite some time repeating my sob story to her, she apologised profusely that legally, they could not accept me. If I were to see Prof Mahesh, the only way was to make an appointment with NUH and he would only be consulting there every Thursday. Next, I decided to call Fong's Clinic for Women at Gleneagles (recommended by my TCM physician) - the clinic which I had made an appointment in Week 11.
To my pleasant surprise, the lady on the other end of the line acceded to my request to see the gynae today and that I could see him first thing in the morning. It was a breeze. A fleeting thought that the clinic's business was so poor that they could easily allow walk ins now, flashed across my mind. I quickly dismissed the thought by indulging in my fantasy that Dr Fong was indeed The Gynae sent by God. I was so excited by the thought that I rushed to the bed and jolted my husband from his sleep.
"Wake up! Come one! I managed to get an appointment with Dr Fong NOW!" I shook him.
Stupefied, he asked me if I was sure. I explained to him my rationale of the stress of not knowing would be affecting the baby for the next 7 days. For the sake of Banana (pseudo name for our baby), we needed to go!
The journey to Gleneagles took longer than expected. We were approaching the hospital when we saw cars snaking towards the carpark entrance.
"Huh, why is there a jam? What happens if we need to deliver the baby and there is always a jam?" I muttered.
"Weekends mornings at Gleneagles are always busy. Weekdays should be fine," my hub replied as by now, he was already used to my habit of overthinking.
I was also surprised that we needed to take a lift from the carpark to another lift lobby to take another lift to the specialist clinics. The wait could be quite long. Finally, we reached the clinic. Gingerly, I pushed open the door and to my pleasant surprise, we were the only patients!
The clinic had a warm ambience because of the soft orangey lighting. There were plush sofa seats, statues and paintings, giving the clinic a cosy feel, but still retaining the touch of professionalism. There were three nurses at the reception and they were warm in an Auntie way (motherly). One of them asked me to wait on the sofa for my turn. The walls were adorned with photographs of Dr Fong and the babies that he had delivered. While waiting for our turn, we took a look at the photographs and identified two celebrities. One of them was Guo Liang and the other one was Pastor Kong Hee from City Harvest church. On another notice board, there were numerous Chinese newspaper articles featuring Dr Fong. Reading Chinese is still a chore so I did not bother.
"Eh why only Chinese articles and no English?" hub asked.
"Maybe Chinese newspapers more kaypo," I replied as I could imagine hub rolling his eyes at my bimbotic answer.
"Why are we the only patients?" I whispered in low tones to my husband.
"No idea," he whispered, "hey, no, I heard some noises in the room, maybe someone is already in the consultation room."
During the 30 minutes of waiting, my hub wanted to weigh himself.
"Wait wait wait, I will go with you. Not so obvious. And you can sneakily weigh yourself," I spoke softly.
He stood on the weighing machine and nothing was measured. We tried to switch it on and we saw some lights flashing but it was not in kilograms. We returned to our seats and waited obediently for our turn.
Minutes later, I heard my name called. My heart skipped a beat. We were guided to a small consultation room and we quickly figured out that Dr Fong was consulting in another room. We could hear his booming low voice. This type of two room consultation was familiar as Dr Christopher Chen also had a similar set up.
"Wah, this doctor so rich ah ... Do you think he owns the clinic or it is on rental?" I asked hub.
"Should be his own. He has been in this business for very long," he entertained my small talk.
The nurse confirmed that Dr Fong owned the clinic. After the initial preparation by the nurse to take my BP, Dr Fong finally entered the consultation room. He was clad in light pink - same colour as his staff. I told him that my period hasn't come for a while and he asked me straightaway if I had been pregnant in the past. When I shared with him my past losses and explained to him that Physician Chen Qiu Mei has sent me to him, he asked if I had brought along my past medical records. He spent a long time (when I said long time, I gauged it to be 15 min?) just explaining the NUH medical records in detail and EVEN TRANSLATING THEM IN CHINESE WRITTEN FORM for Physician Chen (aka TSB).
"Eh, shouldn't we tell him you are pregnant?" my hub whispered under his breathe.
"I thought I told him?" I retorted.
"No, I think you have not," he said.
"I did!He knows!" I insisted.
The truth was he was so engrossed in dissecting my NUH results done by Prof Mahesh that I did not have a chance to stop him and shout out loud that HELLO I AM PREGNANT and am here to see you for pregnancy not infertility. Anyway, I LIKE HIM despite conflicting reviews online. He was such a sincere grandpa or papa. He commented that Prof Mahesh was a high class guy who gave high class talks and ran high class tests on his patients and that he could be trusted. I laughed. See, he was funny. In the end, he came to the conclusion that my miscarriages were unexplained and the only possible reason was my polycystic ovaries which usually would not lead to miscarriages if given hormone support. He also commented that he had no issues if I were to take up IVIG. Another reason why I like him was he was very honest with what he doesn't know. He took out his iPad and checked one of the results on my tests to see what it means. He also disclosed another bad news to me - I tested positive for cytomegalovirus.
http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/cmv/basics/definition/con-20029514 Was I blind all these years? Why I had missed this out when I was reading my results? LADIES, PLEASE DO NOT SHARE FOOD! Do you know that this virus cannot be cured and if you contracted this virus during your pregnancy, your baby could be harmed? Online articles mentioned that this virus is easily spread and many people have it but it is usually dormant in our bodies.
"Come! Let's go and scan your tummy!" He got the nurse to guide me to the scanning room.
All of a sudden, I sat upright and I felt twisted knots in my tummy. I was tensed up and my body was a bundle of nerves. The room was dark. I laid down and felt the coldness of the gel on my tummy. He had similar equipment as Dr Loh SF, meaning that the mother has her own monitor to see her baby and the doctor has his own to examine. I refused to look at my personal screen and fixated my gaze on Dr Fong.
"Oh gosh! Quick look at the screen. Your baby is there!" the nurse exclaimed.
"Yes, I can see a foetus!" Dr Fong said with joy.
I refused to look at the screen because I was so scared that there was no heartbeat.
"Look! The baby moves! He is waving at us!" my hub coaxed me.
"Is there a heartbeat?" I replied in a deadpan voice and directed my question at Dr Fong, not registering what my husband had said.
"Wait! Let me find," Dr Fong assured me, "there! I found it! And your baby is around 9 week and 6 days. It is a live foetus."
I lifted my head to look at the screen. Oh my gosh! I could see a tiny human form. I could make out the head, body easily. The head was big. I calculated from the date of conception that baby should be 10 weeks old. I was so relieved that the scanning age was relatively accurate. If I peered closely, the legs and arms too. I could see the heart flickering. Soon, Dr Fong adjusted something and we could FINALLY hear the famous sound of horse galloping in the room.
"There you go, you can hear your baby's heartbeat," Dr Fong said.
I finally let my guard down and gazed at my precious baby. I don't understand why couples do not want to have children. This was such a special moment between husband and wife - witnessing a life formed from you. It was as special and blissful as what all storybooks and magazines say. Why wouldn't you want to have this moment? No number of honeymoons or adventure trips, wedding banquets, could match up to this tiny moment of miracle.
"Is the baby's heartbeat normal?" my hub asked.
"Yes yes, it is normal," Dr Fong replied.
I just could not believe it - Thank You God. Thank you TSB. I can finally end my infertility woes.
Dr Fong printed three copies of the ultrasound at different angles for us. He dispensed some medications and explained his rationale for giving them. I was prescribed duphaston in the day, progesterone at night, salbutomol if I have cramps and another medication if I do spot. He also mentioned that if I do spot, bed rest first, take the medication and see him the next day. I asked him if it was okay to continue eating the herbs if I take his hormone support. His reply was - If I do not prescribe you hormone support, I wonder why TSB ask you to look for me. So I am sure it is fine to eat her herbs. He also gave us some brochures to read about our 12 week scan - scan for abnormalities. The nurse placed all the pictures and information that we would need in a clear sheet folder and passed to us.
He had spent a long time with us, more than 30 minutes. When we came out of the room, we saw a queue seated on the long sofa. I liked him, his staff (all motherly), and his cozy clinic very much. They were happy for us and we were on cloud nine.
"Hey you never look at baby when he waved at us! Never share this special moment with me!" my hub pouted.
"I was too scared! Previously all bad news mah! I only dare to see when he say there is a heartbeat! Any way, are you sure that is his hand and not the umbilical cord?" I asked playfully.
At home, I saw my hub seated quietly on the sofa.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked.
"Don't disturb me. I am basking in my moment of joy," my hub replied.
"Yah hor, let me try," I said as I reached out for the ultrasound pictures and stared at them for a very long time.
For the next two weeks, this would be my favourite hobby - admiring the ultrasound pictures and feeling my heart swell with pride, love and joy.
On one of the happy nights, I did a stupid thing again! When I was gazing at the ultrasound pictures, I noticed that the heart rate was 196 bmp. I wondered what that was. Itchy hands, I GOGGLED AGAIN! Damn, my heart turned cold when I came across articles that 196 bmp was considered very high in some countries and could mean that the baby is chromosomally abnormal. I googled again and again before I found another article that mentions that the heart rate for a 10 week old normal range maximum is 200 bmp. Ideally the average was 170 bmp. It should decrease as baby grows. I shared my fears with hub and he asked me to ignore Goggle since Dr Fong had mentioned that the heart rate was normal.
After my brief encounter with Mr Google, it had a slight dampening effect on my swelling joy. Little did I know that it was actually a bad premonition to what was to come.
It was 7.30am and I was wide awake not by the sunlight that was streaming into the master bedroom, but by the nagging thought that I should see a gynae as soon as possible. My initial calm for the past few weeks even in the face of spotting, was rocked by the news that my sis-in-law's 9 week old has no heartbeat and yet, she had not felt any spotting or cramping - no signs of baby's passing at all. I could not comprehend why a tiny bean could grow into a small wormy creature that resembles a tiny human form if you allow your imagination to take flight, but, yet, the heart has stopped beating without any hint. That means even if my spotting has stopped, it doesn't mean that a miscarriage has not taken place. The more I thought about it, the more I could not stay in bed.
I turned and saw my husband still sleeping with his mouth opened. Over the years, I had developed a deep understanding of knowing when he was truly sleeping or faking it. He had to open his mouth wide and perform some kind of snorting sounds. He was so soundly asleep that I could not bear to rouse him from his dreams. Between the two of us, I always felt that he was the more laid back one in our baby making business. I was the manager and he was the investor. There were also times where I thought that the very thought that baby making was made to look like it was some of a business was the very factor that had caused us to be in the red.
I made the solo decision that I had to see a gynae today and not week 11 which was next week. I had to know if the baby had a heartbeat. The not knowing would kill me for the whole week. I would not survive till week 11 and this would be so against my new battle strategy - reduce stress. Just like how devotees would shake the can of sticks in a temple when they are looking for directions or have their fortunes told, I prayed to God, "Dear God, may the gynae that allows me to visit him today be The Gynae for me."
Entertaining all these thoughts easily made an hour seemed like a minute. It was 8.30am. The clinics would be opened. I dialled NUH for Prof Biswas to see if there were any last minute cancellations to slot me in (This has been my daily ritual since week 9), fat hope. "Okay God, so Biswas is not The One," I consoled myself. Next, I dialled Choolani's private clinic. Prof Mahesh Choolani was the doctor who performed all sorts of tests for me to diagnose why I kept having early miscarriages. Surprisingly, there was a click and a lovely voice greeted me. Would he be The One? To my dismay, the staff informed me that Choolani Clinic could not accept me as a patient because my records were with NUH. They have signed some contract with NUH. Although I spent quite some time repeating my sob story to her, she apologised profusely that legally, they could not accept me. If I were to see Prof Mahesh, the only way was to make an appointment with NUH and he would only be consulting there every Thursday. Next, I decided to call Fong's Clinic for Women at Gleneagles (recommended by my TCM physician) - the clinic which I had made an appointment in Week 11.
To my pleasant surprise, the lady on the other end of the line acceded to my request to see the gynae today and that I could see him first thing in the morning. It was a breeze. A fleeting thought that the clinic's business was so poor that they could easily allow walk ins now, flashed across my mind. I quickly dismissed the thought by indulging in my fantasy that Dr Fong was indeed The Gynae sent by God. I was so excited by the thought that I rushed to the bed and jolted my husband from his sleep.
"Wake up! Come one! I managed to get an appointment with Dr Fong NOW!" I shook him.
Stupefied, he asked me if I was sure. I explained to him my rationale of the stress of not knowing would be affecting the baby for the next 7 days. For the sake of Banana (pseudo name for our baby), we needed to go!
The journey to Gleneagles took longer than expected. We were approaching the hospital when we saw cars snaking towards the carpark entrance.
"Huh, why is there a jam? What happens if we need to deliver the baby and there is always a jam?" I muttered.
"Weekends mornings at Gleneagles are always busy. Weekdays should be fine," my hub replied as by now, he was already used to my habit of overthinking.
I was also surprised that we needed to take a lift from the carpark to another lift lobby to take another lift to the specialist clinics. The wait could be quite long. Finally, we reached the clinic. Gingerly, I pushed open the door and to my pleasant surprise, we were the only patients!
The clinic had a warm ambience because of the soft orangey lighting. There were plush sofa seats, statues and paintings, giving the clinic a cosy feel, but still retaining the touch of professionalism. There were three nurses at the reception and they were warm in an Auntie way (motherly). One of them asked me to wait on the sofa for my turn. The walls were adorned with photographs of Dr Fong and the babies that he had delivered. While waiting for our turn, we took a look at the photographs and identified two celebrities. One of them was Guo Liang and the other one was Pastor Kong Hee from City Harvest church. On another notice board, there were numerous Chinese newspaper articles featuring Dr Fong. Reading Chinese is still a chore so I did not bother.
"Eh why only Chinese articles and no English?" hub asked.
"Maybe Chinese newspapers more kaypo," I replied as I could imagine hub rolling his eyes at my bimbotic answer.
"Why are we the only patients?" I whispered in low tones to my husband.
"No idea," he whispered, "hey, no, I heard some noises in the room, maybe someone is already in the consultation room."
During the 30 minutes of waiting, my hub wanted to weigh himself.
"Wait wait wait, I will go with you. Not so obvious. And you can sneakily weigh yourself," I spoke softly.
He stood on the weighing machine and nothing was measured. We tried to switch it on and we saw some lights flashing but it was not in kilograms. We returned to our seats and waited obediently for our turn.
Minutes later, I heard my name called. My heart skipped a beat. We were guided to a small consultation room and we quickly figured out that Dr Fong was consulting in another room. We could hear his booming low voice. This type of two room consultation was familiar as Dr Christopher Chen also had a similar set up.
"Wah, this doctor so rich ah ... Do you think he owns the clinic or it is on rental?" I asked hub.
"Should be his own. He has been in this business for very long," he entertained my small talk.
The nurse confirmed that Dr Fong owned the clinic. After the initial preparation by the nurse to take my BP, Dr Fong finally entered the consultation room. He was clad in light pink - same colour as his staff. I told him that my period hasn't come for a while and he asked me straightaway if I had been pregnant in the past. When I shared with him my past losses and explained to him that Physician Chen Qiu Mei has sent me to him, he asked if I had brought along my past medical records. He spent a long time (when I said long time, I gauged it to be 15 min?) just explaining the NUH medical records in detail and EVEN TRANSLATING THEM IN CHINESE WRITTEN FORM for Physician Chen (aka TSB).
"Eh, shouldn't we tell him you are pregnant?" my hub whispered under his breathe.
"I thought I told him?" I retorted.
"No, I think you have not," he said.
"I did!He knows!" I insisted.
The truth was he was so engrossed in dissecting my NUH results done by Prof Mahesh that I did not have a chance to stop him and shout out loud that HELLO I AM PREGNANT and am here to see you for pregnancy not infertility. Anyway, I LIKE HIM despite conflicting reviews online. He was such a sincere grandpa or papa. He commented that Prof Mahesh was a high class guy who gave high class talks and ran high class tests on his patients and that he could be trusted. I laughed. See, he was funny. In the end, he came to the conclusion that my miscarriages were unexplained and the only possible reason was my polycystic ovaries which usually would not lead to miscarriages if given hormone support. He also commented that he had no issues if I were to take up IVIG. Another reason why I like him was he was very honest with what he doesn't know. He took out his iPad and checked one of the results on my tests to see what it means. He also disclosed another bad news to me - I tested positive for cytomegalovirus.
http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/cmv/basics/definition/con-20029514 Was I blind all these years? Why I had missed this out when I was reading my results? LADIES, PLEASE DO NOT SHARE FOOD! Do you know that this virus cannot be cured and if you contracted this virus during your pregnancy, your baby could be harmed? Online articles mentioned that this virus is easily spread and many people have it but it is usually dormant in our bodies.
"Come! Let's go and scan your tummy!" He got the nurse to guide me to the scanning room.
All of a sudden, I sat upright and I felt twisted knots in my tummy. I was tensed up and my body was a bundle of nerves. The room was dark. I laid down and felt the coldness of the gel on my tummy. He had similar equipment as Dr Loh SF, meaning that the mother has her own monitor to see her baby and the doctor has his own to examine. I refused to look at my personal screen and fixated my gaze on Dr Fong.
"Oh gosh! Quick look at the screen. Your baby is there!" the nurse exclaimed.
"Yes, I can see a foetus!" Dr Fong said with joy.
I refused to look at the screen because I was so scared that there was no heartbeat.
"Look! The baby moves! He is waving at us!" my hub coaxed me.
"Is there a heartbeat?" I replied in a deadpan voice and directed my question at Dr Fong, not registering what my husband had said.
"Wait! Let me find," Dr Fong assured me, "there! I found it! And your baby is around 9 week and 6 days. It is a live foetus."
I lifted my head to look at the screen. Oh my gosh! I could see a tiny human form. I could make out the head, body easily. The head was big. I calculated from the date of conception that baby should be 10 weeks old. I was so relieved that the scanning age was relatively accurate. If I peered closely, the legs and arms too. I could see the heart flickering. Soon, Dr Fong adjusted something and we could FINALLY hear the famous sound of horse galloping in the room.
"There you go, you can hear your baby's heartbeat," Dr Fong said.
I finally let my guard down and gazed at my precious baby. I don't understand why couples do not want to have children. This was such a special moment between husband and wife - witnessing a life formed from you. It was as special and blissful as what all storybooks and magazines say. Why wouldn't you want to have this moment? No number of honeymoons or adventure trips, wedding banquets, could match up to this tiny moment of miracle.
"Is the baby's heartbeat normal?" my hub asked.
"Yes yes, it is normal," Dr Fong replied.
I just could not believe it - Thank You God. Thank you TSB. I can finally end my infertility woes.
Dr Fong printed three copies of the ultrasound at different angles for us. He dispensed some medications and explained his rationale for giving them. I was prescribed duphaston in the day, progesterone at night, salbutomol if I have cramps and another medication if I do spot. He also mentioned that if I do spot, bed rest first, take the medication and see him the next day. I asked him if it was okay to continue eating the herbs if I take his hormone support. His reply was - If I do not prescribe you hormone support, I wonder why TSB ask you to look for me. So I am sure it is fine to eat her herbs. He also gave us some brochures to read about our 12 week scan - scan for abnormalities. The nurse placed all the pictures and information that we would need in a clear sheet folder and passed to us.
He had spent a long time with us, more than 30 minutes. When we came out of the room, we saw a queue seated on the long sofa. I liked him, his staff (all motherly), and his cozy clinic very much. They were happy for us and we were on cloud nine.
"Hey you never look at baby when he waved at us! Never share this special moment with me!" my hub pouted.
"I was too scared! Previously all bad news mah! I only dare to see when he say there is a heartbeat! Any way, are you sure that is his hand and not the umbilical cord?" I asked playfully.
At home, I saw my hub seated quietly on the sofa.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked.
"Don't disturb me. I am basking in my moment of joy," my hub replied.
"Yah hor, let me try," I said as I reached out for the ultrasound pictures and stared at them for a very long time.
For the next two weeks, this would be my favourite hobby - admiring the ultrasound pictures and feeling my heart swell with pride, love and joy.
On one of the happy nights, I did a stupid thing again! When I was gazing at the ultrasound pictures, I noticed that the heart rate was 196 bmp. I wondered what that was. Itchy hands, I GOGGLED AGAIN! Damn, my heart turned cold when I came across articles that 196 bmp was considered very high in some countries and could mean that the baby is chromosomally abnormal. I googled again and again before I found another article that mentions that the heart rate for a 10 week old normal range maximum is 200 bmp. Ideally the average was 170 bmp. It should decrease as baby grows. I shared my fears with hub and he asked me to ignore Goggle since Dr Fong had mentioned that the heart rate was normal.
After my brief encounter with Mr Google, it had a slight dampening effect on my swelling joy. Little did I know that it was actually a bad premonition to what was to come.
I cannot imagine the amount of pain you are going through now. But writing about the happenings does get it off your chest so as to speak.Best of luck to your recovery process.
ReplyDeleteHi Raine, how are you? Yeah, it does. Thank you!!!
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