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Trying to trick my mind.

I feel like I need to blog about something else to just get my mind off this cycle.

The problem is, everything in my life now revolves around IVF. Family, Work, Social Life – everything.

I have been trying to be positive and tell myself that I am already pregnant. If this is true, it calls for a lot of changes. I am definitely not complaining as this is something I have been yearning for the past 3 years and more.

Firstly, work-wise, I would need to let my Reporting Officers know as soon as possible. I generally teach the upper secondary students and normally take on at least 1 graduating class. If When I get pregnant, I would have to give ample notice to my ROs so they can deploy me accordingly. If I have to be away for 4 months out of a year, it will not be fair to my graduating students. So, I probably will get that graduating class taken away, which sucks as I have come to love the class I have been teaching since the beginning of the year. I actually look forward to teaching them and they make me want to do more for them.

Also, I am eyeing a promotion in school and being out-of-sight for 4 months is not going to favour me. Furthermore, I am hoping that the pregnancy is relatively smooth as I have seen colleagues “falling out of favour” due to missing one too many days at work because of their morning sicknesses, ailments etc. Sounds sucky but welcome to modern reality.

This all sounds very selfish but the truth is, in the course of dealing with my infertility, I have thrown myself into work the past few years. I slogged to at least get the satisfaction of doing well in one area of my life, the area I can control. And it worked! My work was recognised, I was finally being recognised and better things came my way. Now, the workaholic me is freaking out a little over the upcoming implications.

Social-life wise, I do not see much of a change as I have pretty much become an old bore. I stopped drinking (BIG BIG BIG deal for me) once I started fertility treatments and I am usually so tired from work that I relish my weekends to sleep-in and just do nothing. Gone are the days that I clubbed into the wee hours of the morning, or just stayed up till the sun came up for no apparent reason. Now, I don’t even do weekday dinners unless they are very special occasions. Most of my close friends are parents so meet-ups are usually centered around their busy schedules anyways. So yup, no change there.

The only social change I envision is stopping my dance class. Dance has been an outlet for me for ages and though I stopped in between, I went back to class about 1 and a half years ago. Many people questioned why I went back to dance in the middle of fertility treatments but the truth is, I need dance to keep me sane. It is literally the only form of exercise I enjoy. I love dancing and I love the joy it gives me. Yes, it is tough to explain those 2 weeks of absences each time I do a treatment but I manage somehow. I will definitely miss dancing but I see it as a break and not a permanent good-bye 🙂

Of course, my ultimate indulgence is travelling and that would have to be on hold too. But I don’t mind. I have travelled quite a bit (though not as much as I would like) and I think I would love to travel more as a family with any new addition(s). It is just a different sort of adventure I look forward to.

It may seem that I am complaining about how pregnancy may will affect my life. But in reality, I am preparing myself. You see, if I list all these “disadvantages” here, maybe, just maybe, I won’t be so crushed if this cycle fails.

Maybe, just maybe, I can take comfort in knowing that my work, social life and travelling plans can go on as per normal.

Maybe, just maybe.

Who am I kidding?

48 hours to go.





Sugar, Sugar.

As mentioned in my previous post, my life was shaken when I was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. Never did I think I would be facing this so early in life.

Image result for diabetes type 2 symbol

So once I was mentally ready, I went back to SGH and we were discussing our options for my second fresh round when Dr Yu suggested that I go for the comprehensive blood glucose test.

Brief history – As a PCOS-sufferer, I have a high risk of insulin-resistance, when coupled with the fact that my mum had gestational diabetes when she carried me – is the final nail on the coffin. Dr Yu had been bugging me to test for diabetes since 2 years ago and all I managed was the pin-prick test, which showed a borderline result. That meant that I did not have diabetes but was at high risk. She had told me to go for the comprehensive one but I had been pushing it back because it requires me to take a full day of work (when I had already missed so many due to the treatments) and also because I frankly did not want to know. I guess you could say I was in denial of what I knew was inevitable.

So fast forward to the current time. I knew I had nowhere to escape and also, I wanted to do whatever it took to prevent any further miscarriages. So I did it. I went to SGH early one morning after a 10-hour fast and got my blood taken. Then I was told to drink this cup of saccharine sweet solution (basically glucose dissolved in water) which I think I enjoyed a little too much (haha maybe that should be a sign I had diabetes). The cold water helped it and I was paranoid that I would puke it out as the nurse on duty kept reminding me that if I were to puke it out, I had to come back another day to get it all done again – which I definitely DID not want. Thankfully, no puke.

I then had to wait for around 3 hours and get my blood taken after that. I can’t recall what I did to pass the 3 hours but I think it involved reading a book, having breakfast and doing my marking. Finally, I got my blood taken again and was sent off home. Frankly I did not think much as I had convinced myself I was not diabetic. The signs were staring at me in my face – weight gain, increased thirst, dark sports around my neck, blurred vision – but I conveniently pushed them away.

A couple of days later, I was having a meal with my colleagues when I received The Call. Yes, I was diabetic. I needed to go down to collect a letter to bring to the polyclinic for my diabetes consultation. At that moment, it did not sink in yet. I did not know to what extent my life would be changed, just that I had another issue to add on to my already growing list of health issues. I went by the meal in a daze and went to SGH immediately after to collect the letter.

The very next day, I went to the polyclinic for the consultation and I think that was when it hit me. Everyone at the diabetes clinic was..well..old. I was clearly the youngest there by a mile and that shook me a little. The doctor took my blood and I waited a while for the results. My sugar level was at 7.1, and people normally go on medication if it is above 7. However, seeing that I was trying to conceive and am still relatively young, the Dr did not want to give me medication and instead advised me to control it with food and exercise.

I walked home from the polyclinic in a turmoil. I knew I had to make a change – and this time, it as not just to fit into that dress or for a slimmer face or get that annoying aunty to shut up – it was for my life. From that day itself, I made a decision to change my life around. I knew my weaknesses were sweets and carbs (which is basically almost every food worth eating).

I made some drastic changes in my lifestyle which included

  • cutting out rice totally
  • removing all forms of white sugar from my diet including sweets, drinks and desserts
  • exercising at least 2 to 3 times a week

Oh boy, it is TOUGH. 80% of Asian food is rice-based and everything that I LOVE! I had to say bye to briyani, chicken rice, chai peng, zhi char and so much more! I also have a very very sweet tooth so I had to bite my tongue to ensure that I kept to my decision – which was so difficult especially when colleagues and family celebrated birthdays with decadent cakes, meetings were supplied with my favourite nonya snacks and I had to say bye to that refreshing glass of coke and iced green tea.

But this time it was different. I knew that if I did not do what I had to do, it could have serious implications. I have enough diabetics in my family to have seen the ugly head of diabetes, from life-long dependence on medication, amputations and even death. As hard as it was, I stuck to it and used it as a chance to lose some weight before my 2nd cycle. Those around me expressed awe at my determination and said “I wish I could be like you” but no, I wouldn’t wish this illness on ANYONE. I am not being healthy because I want to, but because I have to and that, is a very thin and sad line.

However, the hard work did pay off. I managed to lose about 7kg in 2 months. I was shocked but realised just how much my body was dependant on sugar. People noticed the change and I felt good about it and it compelled me to keep going. Each time I missed eating rice, I went on the weighing scale to remind myself how far I had come. After 3 weeks, the daily cravings were gone and I was more comfortable with my new regime of salads, salmons, chicken breasts, quinoa and lots of green veggies.

2 months into it, I am now about to incorporate rice back into my diet (WHAT?!?) because I don’t want the lack of carbs to affect the embryo. Also, these past 2 months, we have mostly been cooking our own meals to ensure that we eat only what we can and want. However, in the upcoming 2WW, it will be difficult for to cook as I have to be on bed-rest most of the time, so I have asked my mum to help with daily meals and it is quite selfish of me to insist only on low-carb meals which she is not used to cooking. I have decided on brown and red rice with a low glycemic index (GI rate) so as not to affect my new lifestyle too drastically.

Being diagnosed with diabetes was initially similar to a death sentence for me, but now I realise that it was a wake-up call for me to claim my life back. It is a difficult journey but I am determined to milk it for all it’s worth!




A week of turmoil

So I haven’t written in a while and it is mostly becuase my mind, heart and body is undergoing a turmoil.

So let’s recap:


Did my normal routine of POAS with my FMU (First Morning Urine) and mentally prepared myself for a blank space. I had already convinced myself this cycle didn’t work. So You can imagine my shock when I saw the faintest of the faintest line. Unsure if it was an evaporation line or my mind playing tricks, I quickly got ready and went to the nearest mall to purchase the (expensive) digital pregnancy kit so that I wouldn’t have to guess.

So this happened. I’m going to be all cliché and say I didn’t expect it and was overjoyed and laughing-crying to myself. Broke the news to V that evening and we both hugged each other and just cried happy tears.
but the happiness  was short-lived.

The day went by as per normal and I was like a silly idiot, smiling to myself, wrapped with a secret only I (and V) knew. But that evening everything changed. I suddenly felt sth wet down there and thought it was just a discharge from the Progesterone inserts. I went to the toilet to check and my heart sank as I saw red. 


I franatically wiped and saw more red. I felt dizzy and all I knew was that I needed V. He was out with friends and I called him and cried unintelligibly to him. Thankfully V was calm and told me that he had read it was normal. I tried to soothe my frantic heart and lay down the whole night, waiting for V to come back. We then decided we would call KK IVF centre the next day to see what I should do. It was one of the worst sleep I had.


Called the clinic at 8am and since my beta wasn’t due till Fri, they were not too concerned. But nevertheless they told me to come down for an early Beta that day. V met me at the hospital after taking emergency leave and after the test, I was a nervous wreck. 2 hours after the test, I got a call. 

‘Yes you are pregnant but the levels are low. ‘

I went back to KKH and collected medication and was told to return on Fri for a second beta. I inistsed on getting a support jab and after a while, they relented and let me have it. I went home and lay on bed the whole day.

This was the worst day as I had nothing to look forward to. I just lay in bed the whole day, wrecked with guilt wondering if sth I did had caused the bleeding.


Finally it was time for my second beta. Everything went by in a blur but I was still bleeding, and it was heavier. We also had an appointment with Dr Sadhana that afternoon. Soon the results arrived.

-Beta went up from 114 to 250

– Still pregnant (4 weeks!) , nothing they can do about the bleeding.

– Too early for an ultrasound
At this point, I just couldn’t bring myself to be excited over something I have been dreaming about for the past 3 years. Finally, I am pregnant but I am paranoid about losing it any day. I always thought getting pregnant was the tough part and once I did, everything would just fall into place. But now, the battle just seems to get harder and harder.


I was feeling a little positive and we decided to break the news to our immediate  families since they all knew we were undergoing IVF. Halfway through lunch with my family, I felt uneasy and could feel light cramps and bleeding. My appetite waned and I quickly went to the toilet to check. 

The bleeding had increased.

I tried to keep a calm composure but it was useless. I whispered to V that we should go to the KK 24Hrs O&G clinic after lunch. My mum from across the table saw me (and my freaked out face) and asked me if I was okay. That was enough to bring on the tears and works.  My entire family tried to calm me down and V quickly went to get the car. Before I knew it, I was on the way to KK with my mum and 2 sisters at the backseat.

The hospital visit did nothing to calm my nerves as it was too early to check anything and the blood test would not be conducive as I had only done it the previous day. So basically I paid $110 for them to tell me ‘We can’t do anything.’

That night, my bestie M came over and we had a heart-to-heart till the wee hours in the morning. I felt so much better as she too shared that she bled for 2 weeks for her first trimester  (I knew of this but had conveniently shifted it to the back of my mind).
Sunday (Current Day)

We went for our third HCG blood test this morning to ensure the levels went up. Now it’s just a waiting game as we await the results in an hours’ time.

And yes, I’m still bleeding.
I’m just not sure if I should be happy or prepare myself for the worst. This is just a turmoil.

Egg Transfer – 1 or 2?

After the egg retrieval, I thought the worst was over. My biggest worry was that my eggs would not be able to grow and now, I managed to get 4 eggs. So the next steps should be easy-peasy.

Well, like every step of the infertility journey, it was damn difficult. Firstly, the appointment was set on Thursday, 9th June. Being our ROM (registered marriage) anniversary, V and I took it as a good sign and reached the hospital as told by 8 45am.

I was excited and raring to go, with a full bladder (also raring to go pee). As a surprise, my mom and sis turned up at the clinic to support me, though I don’t know what support they were expecting to give (hold the catheter?). Them being there helped to lighten the mood though as all sorts of weird comments came out (as usual) and my mum giving me 1001 tips as the self-proclaimed expert of IVF since her close colleague successfully went through the procedure recently.

These were just some of the tips that my sis and I were trying very hard not to giggle about and V was giving me this look saying “is your mum serious?!”

  1. Don’t walk with your heel.(yes as I should be floating everywhere instead)
  2. Lie straight on your bed, no turning left and right AT ALL
  3. Don’t switch on the fan or air-conditioner (does she realise we are living in SINGAPORE?)
  4. Don’t talk loudly (Those who know me personally will know how difficult this is)


Anyway after giggling and feeling a little loosened up, we were called in to the procedure room where Dr Sadhana would be meeting us. All excited, we awaited her arrival. Soon. she came in and that’s when everything went downhill. So we had collected 4 eggs but apparently, 2 did not ferterlise. We had 2 good embryos which was a good number still (really? did not feel like it). However, Dr Sadhana was not keen on transferring both due to the possibility of twins and the high risks associated.

Firstly, I was gutted. I mean I always secretly wanted twins – kill 2 birds with 1 stone! However, as she listed all the risks, my desire waned. My mum also had gestational diabetes when she carried me, so Dr Sadhana warned that I will also (she used the term 100%) get it if I were to carry twins. So, her suggestion – cultivate both the embryos to blastocysts and transfer the better quality one on Day 5 and freeze the other.

Initially, I was hesitant. Would transferring 1 mean the chance of getting pregnant be lower? But Dr S said it would be the same chances and she would rather transfer 1 than risk a multiple pregnancy. She gave us some time to think about it and we left the room with heavy hearts.

As we went down to the kopitiam where my mum and sis were, I was wrecked with confusion. I really really wanted to transfer both but the risks were staring me right at my face. How could I do something knowing it may cause harm to my (potential) babies ? My mum and sis were trying to be diplomatic, telling me that they will support me whatever decision I take and that it was my decision to take. V, I knew, preferred the safer option as to him, nothing is more important than us being safe. And for that I was grateful.

So, I decided to stick to the dr’s advice and headed back to the clinic to tell her our decision. The nurse on duty told us it was the better decision and sent me to the pharmacy to collect the medication needed for the next few weeks. As I walked down, my heart felt light and heavy at the same time. Light as I knew I did the right thing, taking the safer route. Heavy as I wondered if I would regret this “safe” route to come.

(My mum then tried to make me feel better by saying Saturday is actually an auspicious date and today not so…she didn’t want to scare me so did not say anything earlier but now it turned out for the best yada yada. My sister and I continued our side-glance-eye-roll-hidden-giggle).

I went home and had a good sleep and felt better when I woke up. That evening, V and I talked it out and reiterated that we did the right thing. On Saturday, I will have 2 good blastocysts to look forward to.

Not so. On Saturday, we returned to the clinic. I was a little apprehensive after Thursday but I knew that was the day. My bladder was full and I felt a little distended and bloated. Soon, we were called in and Dr Sadhana delivered the news. One of our embryos didn’t make it. So we only had 1 left. We would be transferring that and so, there will be nothing left to freeze. As gutted as I was, I tried to push all the negative emotions aside. Having 1 blastocyst was better than none. I have heard of so many cycles that had to be postponed as it could not even reach this state.

As the preparations went underway, Dr Sadhana mentioned that she was hoping to get more follicles from me based on the scan results but most of the sacs were empty, resulting in only 4 eggs. I asked if there was anything I could do to improve the numbers but she just said it was genetic and sometimes, it is just like that. sigh.

Soon we were about to begin. She inserted a catheter which was not unlike the IUI procedure but this seemed more uncomfortable as I had a full bladder. It was like when you really need to pee and someone is boxing into your bladder. I grimaced and tried to bear with it – I would be having my precious embie in me soon! Then the TV screen showed a live-feed from the other side of the procedure room where the embryologist was showing me my details and asking me to verify. V and I were very amused at the high-techness and soon, they showed us the petri-dish where there were some black dots. One of the dots was my blastocyst! They zoomed in and showed us how it looks like.

My precious little blastocyst



The dark mass of cells at the side would become the foetus and the round membrane would be the placenta. Excitement tingled through me as the embryologist sucked up this little one and carefully brought it over to where I was lying. Through the ultrasound screen, I could see the little needle entering my uterus (uncomfortable and cold) and soon, a little wriggle was released into it! I felt so overwhelmed (positively) and reached out for V’s hand though it was at a very weird angle as he was seated diagonally behind me and I was lying down. After that we just lay there for a bit, while the embryologist came and explained about the blastocyst to us and passed us the photograph.

Soon, we left and I was feeling really really bloated. I went to pee (checked with the nurses and they said it’s perfectly fine) and we headed home.

That was when the torture began. By the time I reached home, the slight cramps which began at the hospital climaxed to intense cramps rivaling my murderous menstrual cramps. I was so so afraid and called up the hotline, but they said it was normal and advised me to take some paracetamol. I did some googling and found that it was common as it was simply the uterus reacting to the invasion. I prayed and prayed my precious embie would stay there despite the hostile environment and swallowed the pills. Thankfully, the pain subsided and I drifted off to sleep.

I must say, V has been so so supportive. He has ordered me to stay in our room and has been climbing up and down the stairs bringing me everything I need and want. He fed me lunch as I was still in pain and did whatever he could to make me comfortable. I am so grateful for him and I only wish I can bear him a child as he would be the most wonderful father I know.

Today is 1DP5DT. In normal talk, it means 1 day past 5 day transfer (as my blastocyst was 5 days old when it was transferred to me). As I anxiously tide through the next 2 weeks, I can only hope for the best and pray for my little embie to stick on.






The silent comrades – the husbands.

So yesterday I finally plucked up the courage and told my husband, V about this blog. It’s not that I did not want him to know but I did not know if he would be okay with me baring our intimate struggles with the world. This blog was meant to be an outlet for my frustrations but recently, I have been toying with the idea of sharing this with my family and friends, so that it would be easier for them to know what I (and other couples suffering from infertility) are going through.


So I was bracing myself for all sorts of questions from V when I broke the news to him.

“Erm..dear, you know I actually am writing a blog..”

“Huh..for what, school ah?” (I am a teacher).

“Er no..about our problems conceiving”

*looks up from his nonsensical soccer game so I know I got his attention*


“I don’t know..just wanted an outlet to express myself.”

“Oh. ok.”

*goes back to annoying game* – seriously, if I can I will delete that game from the play store.


Wow. that was. BORING. I was expecting fireworks of some sort but well, better than objecting.


“So, can I read it?” he ventured, eyes still glued on that stupid screen.


Misson accomplished, I smiled gleefully to myself as I gave him the address. After 3 rounds of “are you done yet”, “no i don’t read like you. stop asking”, he looked up and said “pretty good” with a smile.

My heart felt so much lighter then, at least he supported me in this. “But you know, there’s nothing I can relate to” the critic continued.



“I’s all from the girls’ perspectives. What about what the guys go through?”


So that’s when I got thinking. He is right. I have been whining and complaining about how horrible this whole experience has been for me that I have totally side-stepped what the husbands go through. So today, I thought of exploring that.


P.S Please take note that this is for husbands who themselves are not suffering from any issues and have to support their wives through their struggles. I wouldn’t know what husbands who they themselves have issues, go through so I will not talk about that.

5 things husbands, part of infertile couples go through

  1. Helplessness download (1)

Many a times when I am in my most desperate of states (usually either after I get my period, indicating that no, I am NOT pregnant or after a doctor has very kindly told me how slim my chances of conceiving are), V has just sat there, holding me, looking just as desperate if not more. After I calm down, he would usually hold my hand tight and keep reassuring me that it is going to be okay. When I think back about it, I know that he probably was disappointed too, but had to shove his feelings aside to attend to the more emotional and vulnerable me. For that, I am blessed.


2. Lack of tact from others.

Somehow, people seem to think only the women are suffering or that only the women are yearning for children. However, that is far from the truth. When we fail to get pregnant, it is a failure for both the husband and wife. While people are generally more sensitive towards the females (I say this very very loosely), they tend to think that the husbands are not really part of the process and channel more insensitive questions to the men, thinking that “they can handle it”.

I know my husband has been “filtering” such questions and statements so that what I receive is just the tip of the mountain. And how hard must it be for him? To constantly answer insensitive questions, to keep repeating the same lines that “yes, we are trying” and “no, not yet”.


But maybe it’s because I have a resting bitch face and people just don’t dare tell me anything. HAH.


3. Pressure of family.

download (2)

When we seriously considered IVF, my mother was the first of my confidantes. I did not think twice about going to her as I knew she was going to be supportive. She never pressurised me to have children (maybe because she already has 2 cuties as grandkids) and always told me to take my time. However, when V ventured about telling his family about it, I hesitated. Not because I did not want them to know, but because they have been more excited about having grandchildren of their own since V is the eldest child. So, the pressure has been more. And I was a little worried about how they would react to us having trouble getting pregnant. He agreed with me but a few months later, he told me that he wanted his mum to know.

“Huh why, please let’s just not say anything for now.”

“But she’s my mum. I think she deserves to know.”

I knew it was escalating to a quarrel but somehow, I decided to just think about it. And he was right. If I could confide to my mum, why was I restricting him doing the same? I never really thought about the pressure HE was getting from them and how he was stuck in between me and them. It should not be that way.


4. To be supportive beyond their means.


Infertility takes its toll. Not just because of the repeated disappointments again and again. But also physically, the treatments can really be a bitch. Blood tests, scans (the most uncomfortable thing, especially when you’re having painful periods), COUNTLESS pills that make you go cuckoo at times, so many many injections and more. Rushing from work to scans which can be as often as twice a week also takes its toll. And for me, it was just me going through all this. At times when I winced in pain, V had this look that I knew he wished he could go through it instead of me. But he can’t and that’s the reality. Seeing their wives going through all of that, and not being able to do anything (much) about it has seriously got to suck.

We just started on our IVF jabs which has got to be done at 7am every morning. So, even on weekends, we have to drag ourselves out of bed and prepare for the jabs. Although he does not have to, he gets up with me and helps me swab my flabby tummy and counts to 5 with me. 🙂

5. Bitchy wife.

download (3)

I am serious. I can’t count the number of times I have snapped at V over ridiculous things just because I was stressed over some infertility thing. Sometimes, he lets me get away with it but sometimes he doesn’t and whoops my ass into place. (and that’s why he’s my husband). He has been on the receiving end of my tantrums –

  • when the meds make me feel too hot (WHY IS IT SO HOT!? CAN YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE AIRCON?!),
  • when my boobs hurt so bad (DON’T TOUCH MY BOOBS. YES U DID. YOUR FINGER GRAZED IT.),
  • when I have to figure out how I am going to explain to my boss why I have to go for YET another scan (WHY IS LIFE SO UNFAIR!!! – my personal favourite)
  • when I am heaving and sobbing about yet another negative pregnancy test and he tries to comfort me saying it will be okay  (NO IT WON’T BE. STOP SAYING THINGS YOU DON’T KNOW FOR SURE!)
  • when I hear about yet another pregnancy announcement from couples “who were not even trying” and I am trying very hard not be a bitch (who am i kidding..i WAS being a bitch) (WHAT DO YOU MEAN I SHOULD BE HAPPY FOR THEM?!? OF COURSE I AM BUT AREN’T I ALLOWED TO BE SAD FOR ME?!?)

For all the times you just listened to me and even more for all the times that you made me realise that I have to stop being such a whiny, pathetic, blubbering mess – thank you V 🙂


SO yes, that’s my list. This is not exhaustive of course but what comes to my mind about what the husbands go on their own. Sometimes, in the midst of all the madness we go through, we tend to take them for granted and expect them to do whatever they are doing. So, thank you. For going through all this with us and not leaving us when we become psychotic. For holding our hands when we refuse to talk. For holding us when we refuse to be held.


We need to talk about the I word.

It’s 11:58am as I type this and in 2 minutes time, it will be Mothers’ day. Just 3 years ago, it would have been a joyous celebration of all the strong women in my life, but for the past couple of years, it has been a black mark on my calendar – a day where I am reminded from all directions- a reminder of my biggest failure in life : infertility.

When everyone is wishing all the wonderful mothers (including my own superwoman) ‘Happy Mothers Day!’, I’ve come to expect a remark about how they’re waiting to wish me and when it will be my turn or even worse…why am I not wanting to have a child!


My internal (sometimes external) bitch would then roll my eyes and resist the urge to snap back at them, to mind their own business. But I know everyone means well..but that is it! Sometimes they have no idea the huge gaping hole we have, wishing that we too could celebrate this day with our very own bub. Ironically though, now almost everyone has an inkling we are having trouble conceiving (3.5 years of kids..all other married cousins slowly overtaking us..yada yada) so they just keep quiet and look at us with such a pitiful look.

I don’t know which is worse actually.

Infertility has tormented my life for the past 2 years and it’s 2 years too much. However, I (and my wonderful husband) have been getting through it with the help of my wonderful friends and family PLUS some great blogs that have shown me that I’m not alone in this terribly lonely journey. Sadly though, these blogs are a rarity, especially from the Singaporean context.

I understand the lack of discussion- it’s not as if infertility is a rare phenomenon, 1 out of 8 couples face infertility issues – but it is a taboo subject. People who have it are embarrassed to speak up due to the whispers and judgement we face and people who don’t, either say the wrong things or don’t know what to say.

So I started this blog (or whatever the cool kids call it) – to share my experiences on this difficult, heartbreaking, hairdressing process. So other fellow sufferers – from now on referred to as Warriors – can know that you’re not alone. And for all the fortunate ones out there, so you can know what we feel like and how you can be a wonderful source of support for us all. it’s not easy to expose myself like this but I think it’s time we stop treating infertility like a ticking time bomb. we need to talk about it so that there is more awareness about this. So, please bare with me as I bare my soul.

The time now is 12:16 AM.  It is Mothers’ day and I wish ALL of you wonderful mothers a happy, joyous and beautiful Mothers’ day celebrations with your lil miracles 😘😘