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Earlier I was in the pantry, preparing milk for my son. While my son was wailing and crying which I interpreted as "hurry up, mummy! Hungry!"
In came a mother with her new-born. I called her Mummy A. She smiled to us while I returned her smile. I continued my attention to the milk preparation.
"You should join Malaysian Idol."
A dramatic pose of someone performing during a singing competition
Startled, I turned to her.
"You have a good voice. I always hear you sing."
With slight embarrassment, I explained that it was for my son. That he was traumatised by the hospital experience. I wished for him to feel joyful and positive in spite of his environment.
"Who likes to stay in the hospital? Even I find it's affecting me. There are also no radio and TV here. When I hear your voice, I feel good!"
She inquired the time frame that I had my baby since marriage. I shared that I got married in 2016 and was pregnant by 2017.
"That is fast! I took 9 years before I have my baby. Naturally conceived."
I replied hat it was the same for me. That at my age, needed to be fast. I explained to her that I was 45 years old when I naturally conceived my son. That it was a blessing to conceive at my age.
Mummy A then declared that she was no longer a normal person. She is a mother now. That she needed to be positive and to be a good role model for her baby.
Although she did admit that it was challenging at times to keep waking up every two hours to feed her baby. Sometimes she had less patience as she had yet to get used to this new sleeping pattern.
I agreed that it was indeed challenging. I informed her that I meditated and pray as a way to destress. I encouraged her to rely on prayers as a way to balance her life.
Before our encounter at the pantry, I met up with another mother who shared with me not so pleasant news. I called her Mummy Di.
Mummy Di came with her family and her baby daughter, they entered into my room. They are a family from Terrengganu. Our babies have the same health condition. Her baby has ascites, fluids in the stomach. Their hospital referred them to this hospital.
She was being discharged from hospital, she just dropped by to say goodbye. I gave her daughter an elephant doll. Whenever I happened to notice her baby daughter, she seemed to give me a shy and sweet smile. This always melted my heart. So I decided to make her an elephant doll. I made it out from socks. It is a hobby of mine.
Made this doll for Mummy Di's baby
Made this doll for another baby in the hospital.
During our conversation, she shared that there was one BA baby who died. Five months old. My heart stopped. As this was a reminder to me of my son's risky health condition.
I inquired, "How? What caused the death?"
"Fluids in the brain."
This time, both of us paused, reflecting on our babies.
I broke the silence with, "Let's pray to God to bless our babies."
She smiled. Before she left, she wanted us to maintain our contact. We exchanged numbers.
After she left, I turned to my son. I wanted to observe every part of my son's face. Then he brought me back to reality by crying, "Mummy! Stop looking! I am hungry!"
Another day at the hospital. Another day of blessings. Another day of hope.
Last week, I
visited a friend who is suffering from Neurofibromatosis type 2 (NF2), a hereditary condition that causes her body to produce multiple tumours
throughout her life. Link to Yvonne's blog .
Photo was taken from her Facebook She
was supposed to go to the United States of America in May 2018 for a
cervical spine surgery. Unfortunately, before the trip, she fell on
her back and hit her head. She had to undergo a critical brain surgery instead
in Kuala Lumpur. The money she collected for the surgery in USA was all spent
on the brain surgery.
When I saw her,
the first thing I noticed was the protruding feeding tube at her stomach. Food
had to be
inserted through the feeding tube. Yvonne is deaf and blind. She is still bedridden and immobile as
a result of the fall she had in May 2018.
with Yvonne, I had to write an alphabet at a time, slowly on her palm. If she
doesn’t get the word, it must be
written all over again. It is best to use few simple w…
The birth of Patrick changed my marriage life from the two of us to the three of us, a family. We were excited, happy, worried followed by all kind of emotions for our baby son. So many things to learn, to experience. Breastfeeding, constant thoughts on our baby's well being especially when his jaundice appeared to rise during his first month. The lacking of sleep. There were moments I observed his breathing while he slept. We were amazed by every new mannerisms that Patrick displayed. We were so charmed when he first smiled to us. I would observed how gently my husband would treat Patrick and how Patrick would looked up to him, listening to his every word.
We were enjoying ourselves as new parents until something happened in the middle of November 2017 that changed our lives forever. "There is something not right with his stools."
My sister in law remarked to me while I tiredly changed Patrick's diapers. Mentally I can be exhausted as new mothers would be. We visited my s…
We could not believe how fast the funds came in after we uploaded our video appealing for funds to Patrick's liver transplant surgery fees.
I admitted that money was one big worry for without it, the surgery would not proceed. Once HOC set up the appeal on our behalf, I prayed. I prayed hard to God.
Suddenly a thought came. A video of us as a family, making a plea to friends, family and public. To save Patrick by donating to his surgery fees.
So, we quickly set it into motion on 22 May 2019.
I could not imagine the responses came beyond Malaysia - Australia, Singapore and more. From people whom I had not talked to for a few years, willingly came forward to donate, send a kind word, prayers and spread the video to their friends.
Before we go forward to the public, another worry I had was my mother. She has anxiety over Patrick. There were times I had to calm her down, assure her everything shall be fine when I admit I do not actually know whether it is so. I don't wish for my mu…