February, 2002 (after 3 years wasted), on our first visit to Dr Wong, I already had in mind that I wanted to do the laparoscopy. Upon showing all my records, tests done, and another ultra sound by him, he confirmed the earlier diagnosis.

We talked about laparoscopy, he boasted that he’s an expert in this area, and had given talks to UM Medical students on this topic and also had done a lot of laparoscopies throughout his medical career. He said for my case, he would do a Laparoscopic ovarian drilling (ovarian diathermy), the recommended procedure for PCOS patient, just as what Dr Liew mentioned.

I told him I wanted to do it as soon as possible, since I’d already wasted enough time; he put me in his calendar for next week.

The following week, I admitted into Pantai Hospital, went under general anesthetic, and have my laparoscopic ovarian drilling done. Dr Wong was quite good, the stitches clean and straight, and the 3 wounds were small, all below bikini line. He mentioned that there were no complications, and recommended I start trying again after a month, to allow my wound to fully heal.

Meanwhile he suggested that we do another semen analysis test. This time however, Daddy didn’t have to do it in a public toilet. He was allowed bring home the bottle, ‘harvest’ the specimen first thing in the morning, and within an hour, bring the bottle back to the hospital. His test further proved that there’s nothing wrong with him.

When I was ready to start trying again, he recommended that I have more Clomid to speed things up. That will ensure more than 1 egg is released, and my chances of getting pregnant will increased. This time, the Clomid dose was double! Some of the side effects of taking such a high dose of Clomid included blurred vision (while walking, sometimes, I had to stop to balance. It was THAT bad) and very bad pain on the sides of the abdomen just before ovulation (it was like someone continuously punching you on the side).

We went through this 2 cycles and nothing happened, so more tests have to be done. On the next cycle, during the time of ovulation, we had to have sex in the morning, then go to his clinic immeidately for a check for the sperm livelihood within me. From these test, he found that my ‘discharge’ was not thin enough. He metaphorically explained that it’s like the sperm has entered the ‘lobby’ (cervix) but there’s no ‘lift’ (my discharge) to bring the sperm up to my egg.

So, the next procedure was recommended; I have to go for Intra-uterine Insemination (IUI) or artificial insemination. Dr Wong even asked if I wanted to do sex selection for the baby since it’s possible with this method. I told him I just wanted a baby, the sex of the child is of no importance.

To prepare myself, I had to had more Clomid, and on the calculated date of ovulation, I went to the hospital to get a scan to confirm I was about to ovulate.

Upon confirmation, Daddy ‘harvested’ his semen the following morning and sent it to the hospital lab for ‘washing’. I had to go to the hospital in the afternoon. The Dr inserted this long straw like syringe into my vagina, and injected the washed semen into the cervix (not at all comfortable, you can imagine just looking at the tube used), then I laid still for about an hour before I left for home.

We anxiously awaited for the pregnancy to happen, but I got my period 2 weeks after that.

I did another round of IUI, this time, the washed semen was injected right at the opening of the fallopian tube, to increase the chance (later, I found that with this method, you actually risk severing your fallopian tube). Alas, 2 weeks later, I bled again.

We were disappointed, naturally. It seemed that the next step we have to go for is In-Vitro Fertilisation (IVF).

That was when we heard about Dr Collin Lee, the famous IVF specialist in Damansara Fertility Centre. We have testimony of friends’ friends who went and did IVF under him, and who are now happy parents.

We checked out the prices (~RM20K), calculated to see if we could afford the procedure; talked to people to see what kind of discomfort it would caused (of course after all the procedure I’d been through, nothing can really scare me now).

What happened next, became the turning point of my life.

Here’s a video of Zara acting out the nursery rhyme on the bed. Some how, this round, she was facinated with whatever was on her dress, she stopped turning half way.

She’s street smart, if it’s done on the bed, her falling will be a real ‘fall’, but when she’s on the hard floor, her falling is just a big bow.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaJiIP32Hss]

It was quite disgusting to know what kind of medical practitioners we have in our country. Some are really out there to extort us. After seeing 2 Drs, and paid almost RM1500 in total, we still didn’t know what my problem was.

One of Daddy’s colleagues knew we have been seeing gynaes who weren’t empathetic with our problem. The next Dr we went to was highly recommended by her. She said her gynae was a very honest Dr and should be able to help us.

Dr Liew was based in Asunta Hospital, and true enough was an honest bloke. He checked through all the tests that we’d done, and listened to my problem. He did a scan. Took out a pictorial chart, and started giving us a lesson on causes of infertility and what he suspected was wrong with me. Based on my symptoms (irregular period, high LH in my blood test), and the scan which showed lots of darken dots close to the wall of the ovaries, he said I was having Polycystic Ovaries (PCOS in short ). My eggs did not mature and got released from the Ovaries, and hence the dark dots (gathered around the walls of the ovaries) and the irregular period.

Dr Liew also told me to fix PCOS, I had to do a laparoscopy, where the Dr would drill holes in the ovaries (for the egg to be released). Before we went there, he wanted to know if my fertility was caused by any other thing like a blocked fallopian tube, because some PCOS patients are still able to have children unaided.

He suggested I do a Hysterosalpinogram or HSG, which was actually to pump dye into my uterus, take an x-ray shot, then check if all passages (fallopian tubes mainly) were clear.

All his explanation, steps of diagnosis sounded logical. So I immediately scheduled a HSG. I got my result very fast, it was good, my tubes were intact and no blockage.

Dr Liew suggested that I try without surgery first, by taking ovulation drugs to increase the chance. So I was put on Clomid (or Clomiphene).

While having Clomid, it regulated my period (which meant the egg was released), but I could feel a pain in one of the ovaries every time I ovulated (this sensation later help me to realize when I ovulate). We were supposed time our intercourse. So we did it, scheduled, mechanically, and I lifted my legs high up at the end of it to prevent the sperm from flowing out (my own logic). It was no fun!

After 3 rounds of Clomid, no luck, and every time I went back to Dr Liew, he didn’t seem to suggest to do the laparoscopy. When I brought it up, he recommended more Clomid (till when?).

Someone at this point recommended a Malay Dr to me, she said he’d helped many Malay women to conceive after many years of trying. Daddy told me I should stick to Dr Liew, but I was too impatient, so I switched Dr again.

This Dr gave me the same diagnosis as Dr Liew. PCOS was my problem. And just like Dr Liew, he suggested I took Clomid, laparoscopy could wait. I took 2 more cycles of Clomid.

One of my ex colleagues who’d been trying for a child for 5years brought news to us that she’d conceived. Now, all these while I knew she was trying, but she had never suggested to us that she had a problem (even when we asked). She just said she tried, maybe due to stress at work, she never conceived, so she quit.

While bringing this good news to us, she shared her story, she had endometriosis and told me she had a laparoscopy done, and 3 months later, she conceived. I quickly got more information from her about laparoscopy (Painful? How big were the wounds? ) and the Dr she went to (Was he good? Which hospital he is from?).

Since my friend’s Dr, Dr Wong, is from Pantai, Bangsar, and both my brother’s daughters were born there, I asked King’s Wife if she knew that Dr my friend went to. Coincidentally, Samanta, my youngest niece, was delivered by Dr Wong, and King’s Wife’s said he’s quite good, nothing close to Versace, or the dodgy Dr I went to earlier.

When I got home, I told daddy about this, it seemed that I cannot escape having a laparoscopy done.

So we scheduled an appointment and went to see Dr Wong in Pantai.

For the past 2 weeks Zara has been very interested in mimicking the words we said, and is trying to communicate to us. Here are a few situations which I could actually make up what she was saying.

Just entered my sis’ place
Zara : *excitedly, looking every where* CahPerCahPerCahPer (it sounded something like that)
Me : *imitated* Cabut, Cabut, Cabut, Cabut (‘Extract’ in Malay. Thought this was what she was saying, and she probably learnt it from our Indonesian maid)
We walked about in the house
Zara : *pointed to a big framed up Kashmir rug* CahPerCahPerCahPer
Me : *scratched head, imitated* cabut, cabut
Zara : *pointed to a painting on another wall* CahPerCahPerCahPer
Samantha (my wise niece): She’s saying Picture is it?
Me : *gasped* Picture? *looked at Zara* Zara, you said Picture is it?
Zara : *grinned* PerCah PerCah PerCah
Mummy : *it made sense now* Wow, so clever (not sure where she picked this word from, must be from my nieces)
Zara : *grinned and clap hands*

In my sis’ house 1
Sis was adjusting some of her clay ornaments, and accidentally dropped them on the floor.
*CRASH*
Sis : Oh-O!!
Zara : *imitated* Oh Oh
Sis : *laughed* Yeah loh, Yi-yi naughty.
Zara : *looked at my sis, moved her hand up & down with her pointer stuck out* (a sign I always used when she’s naughty, or when I disallowed her to do something and said “NO NO”)
In my sis’ house 2
Zara : *pointed to the bottle of bubbles on the table* Pah-Per Pah-Per!
Me : Later huh, mummy change your diaper first
Zara : *protested*
Me : *ignored her protest, carried her to the room* after mummy changed your diaper, mummy will blow you bubbles, ok?
Me : *whispered to my sis* Hide the B-U-B-B-L-E please
I took my own sweet time changing her diaper, hoping she won’t recall my promised. Then we went back out to the kitchen.
Zara : *pointed to the table (even the bottle of bubbles was no longer there). Stamped her feet in excitement* Pah-Per! Pah-Per! Pah-Per! Pah-Per!
Me : *rolled eyes* Aiyo. She remembered.
Went and fulfilled my promise, blew her bubbles for the 100th time that day.

After work, arrived at King’s wife’s place
Me : *pretended to search for her* Hell-LOW Lee-tle Geeerrl!
Zara : *squealed in delight* Aaah!!
Me : *pretended I’d found her* Hello Little Girl! *scooped her up* How are you?
Zara : *looked at me and gave me a big big smile*
(the above is our standard greeting)
Me : *About to plant a kiss on her lips* Give mummy a kiss kiss
Zara : *Turned her face, laid her head on my shoulder, tightening her grip around my neck with her arms* Huh, Huh
Me : No Kiss Kiss? Only Hug Hug?
Zara : *Still lying on my shoulder* Huh Huh
Me : *compromise* oh ok. Hug Hug then.

Just now, drove out to buy lunch with her
Drove passed a bump without realising, we all got a jolt in the car.
Zara : Oh Oh
Me : *smiled at her* Yup, Oh-O
(now, she’s able to tie accidents with this exclamation)

After the Pudu Dr’s ordeal, I told Daddy the next Dr we saw, I would leave it to him to decide what needed to be done.

People unfortunately never talked about the issue of infertility openly, especially when they themselves are experiencing it. We tried to tell friends that we’re trying but have not been successful, and would like to get a Dr to diagnose our problem. So the Drs recommended to us were normal gynaes, friend who went for operation to remove a cist, friends who got a baby delivered by a good Dr.

The next Dr we went to was from Taman Desa Medical Centre. We nick named him Versace because he wore this conspicuous Versace studded belt all the time (we should have fled when we first spotted that BELT). On our first visit, I visited the toilet.

The toilet in his clinic was pasted with photos of female in various provocative outfit and poses (some even topless, with only G-strings on, worse than these photos). In my mind I was thinking we might have come to the right place. He must be a fertility specialist, and this was where he got his male patients to jerk off collect specimen for semen analysis test. I was quite excited and told Daddy what I saw in the toilet, I told him he might need to use that probably in later visits.

When we got to see Versace, he did an ultra sound scan and then said he needed to do some blood test to check if I have thyroid or any hormonal imbalance. Sounded like a logical thing to do.

We went to collect the blood test result the next visit. The results seemed to show that I have very high level of LH (luteinizing hormone). Versace told me that what he would like to do next was a laparoscopy. He explained that it will be an operation with 3 small incisions, one on both sides of my pelvic area, another on the belly button. A scope would be placed into my uterus via the belly button. This was to check if I had a cist, since my scan showed there’s some bulges around the ovaries, and my hormone wasn’t that balanced. An operation proposed on my second visit? Did he just buy a BMW which he wanted someone to sponsor? We were wary, so we said we had to think about it.

He said while we think about it, he wanted Daddy to provide a sample of his sperm for semen analysis to ensure the problem didn’t lie with him. I was surprised Daddy didn’t even protest, and agreed to do it (maybe because of the sexy toilet I told him about). We agreed to come back the following week to see Versace and check on Daddy’s result.

When we got out to the reception area, we paid and asked for the bottle for the semen analysis. The receptionist told us we have to go down to the lab to get the bottle, and submit our ‘specimen’ there. “You mean you don’t do it here in THAT sexy toilet?” I pointed to the toilet in the clinic. The lady just told me curtly, “NOPE”.

Alright, we were conned (up till today I still wonder, if THAT toilet was not meant to be used by men to collect their sperm, what were those provocative photos for? For Versace’s own private viewing? Or to encourage ‘dirty’ men to visit the gynae with their wives?). While walking to the lab, I asked Daddy if he was sure he wanted to do it. I was feeling embarrassed for him. Unlike a lot of other husbands who never wanted to do such tests for whatever reason (I think a lot to do with ego), Daddy was very cooperative. He said we needed to get to the root of the problem.

The person who dealt with us in the lab wouldn’t even look us in the eye, he just took the chit of paper from the Dr and passed a small bottle to Daddy. When we asked where we could do the deed, the person just pointed, still not looking at us, “There, in that public toilet over there”. We followed his finger, and found the toilet.

I peeked and saw that it was a very small cubicle, with a basin and a toilet bowl and probably it was just 5x4feet. A wisp of ammonia filled my nostril. Gosh, I can’t even do a dump here, let alone masturbate! I asked Daddy if he was sure about this. He nodded and went in bravely. I felt so sad for him, at the same time I was feeling so proud. He was willing to do this for US. How he managed to ‘do’ it, I don’t know (I was even knocking on the door to ask him if he needed help), he must have very good imagination; he came out 10mins later with the precious specimen. We left the hospital after sending the bottle in.

The following week when we visited Versace again, he told us Daddy’s result was good, so I must be the problem. Over the weekend, Versace probably bought something more expensive and needed more sponsorship. What he proposed next infuriated Daddy. He said I must immediately go for my laparoscopy, and if I didn’t do it soon and decide later, he threatened that he would do a 6 inches incision instead of a 3 (small) holes laparoscopy, so he could diagnose and fix the problem at the same time.

Daddy was crossed! He asked Versace what he meant by that. We didn’t even know the problem, and he’s already saying he would do a 6 inch incision on me. Their exchanging of words started getting louder and harsher. I was feeling uneasy about the whole thing. I told Versace we would think about it and dragged Daddy out.

We never returned.

So what did we do during the 4days holiday and Daddy not being around for 3/4 of the time?

Bubble Bath – She has been very fascinated by bubbles or soap suds. So, I’d been pampering her, running a bubble bath for her every evening.

Visit to Tai-Kong’s (maternal great grand father)- King’s wife and family went to Kajang to visit our maternal grand father, Zara and I tagged along. She was very afraid of her Ku-Kong (maternal grand uncle), but after he agreed to bring her walking, her fear miraculously disappeared.

Sleep over in King’s Wife’s place – Sleeping with her favourite cousin, Samantha che-che

Fun in the park – Her cousins brought her to the park, and here she is on a swing with Alicia che-che (she looked bored because she’s actually very sleepy).

Visit to Ikea – She sure had a lot of fun playing with some of the little houses set up all around Ikea for little people. Even happier if there were other children whom she could play with.

Drawing – We bought some crayons and a book of art block, and let her have fun ‘drawing’. This was her first attempt, she was just making dots and drawing lines.

Exploring – She was fascinated by the pebbles we had in our court yard as well as our shell collections. She kept pulling Daddy back to the courtyard to play with the things there.

So it was a fun filled holiday for her, and a tiring one for me….

Daddy and I got married end of 1998 after courting for 6years. We decided to try for a baby immediately since both of us were not that young any more. Little did we know it would take us another 6 years before we have a baby in our arms.

I never used to have regular menstrual cycle since I first got my period, in a year, sometimes, I only got 2 periods; but it never bothered me (less PMS, fewer ‘inconveniences’, why bother?). My mum brought me to see several gynaes about my ‘problem’, but I never really paid attention to what the Drs said, and the treatment was always to put me on the (contraceptive) pill to regulate my cycle, which I didn’t really take because the first time I took it, I put on ~ 10Kg in a month!

After close to a year of trying, with the irregular period and all, needless to say, we didn’t succeed. One of my close friend suggested that I go to this famous Dr in Pudu for treatment. She had an aunt who was not able to conceive after 7years of trying and after getting treated by this Dr, she had a baby.

Maybe I was very naïve, or I trusted this friend so much, I went to this run down Clinic for women in Pudu with her. The Dr was an elderly and suspicious looking man. One ultra sound scan on the belly, and he said he knew what my problem was. I had to come back the following week for a simple procedure.

Daddy, who was very doubtful, told me I needed to really find out what my problem was, what ‘procedure’ the Dr was talking about. I must be so desperate I had a row with him, I told him this was a good Dr, he had many success cases, we just had to trust him etc. He budged when he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince me.

I went back the next week with Daddy. When it was our turn to see the Dr, Daddy tried to ask the Dr what my problem was, and what he was going to do. The Dr mumbled something (which didn’t make sense to both of us), I stared at Daddy and whispered through seething teeth “I’m doing it!”.

What happened after was pretty frightening. I don’t know why I was so gullible and stubborn, and willing to go ahead with the Dr’s plan, whatever it was.

After he’d paid, Daddy was told to wait in the waiting room with all the rest of heavily made up, skimpily dressed ladies with multi coloured hair; while I was asked to take off all my clothings, and put on only a hospital robe, then I was brought into a room. The room was curtained into two sections. I was asked to lie down on a bed and propped my legs up. I saw on the other side of the curtain, another lady was propped up the same as me. I was getting scared, what the hell he was going to do to us propped up like that? I didn’t get to find out, because immediately after that, a mask was put over me, and I drifted off to unconsciousness.

When I woke up, I was already in a ward filled with other semi conscious ladies. I asked for Daddy. They went to get him. When he came in to join me, he looked worried. It has been more than 5hours since he waited. They wouldn’t let him see me before I awaken. What did the Dr do to me? Did he know? He said he didn’t. I didn’t as well. I only felt a pain in the abdomen area, and I knew I was bleeding down there, and I was still feeling dizzy, everything was still in a daze.

A nurse came to say I could leave now. We walked out of the ward, back into the Dr’s waiting area. I wobbled to the reception area and asked if we could see the Dr. The nurse said he was very busy, many patients more to see. We demanded to know what was done to me. The nurse mumbled something. “What is it? What is the procedure called?” I asked, flustered. She continued to mumbled something, a term we’d not heard before. I asked her to write it down to me. Because I was feeling really weak, we didn’t pursue the matter and went back home.

When we got back, we searched the net, we could not find anything on the ‘procedure’ done on me. I forgot what the term given to us was. I believed the term never existed. I suspected what had been done to me was a D&C; that the Dr was a famous Dr for getting rid of unwanted pregnancies.

Up till today, what really was done to me in that room remains a mystery. I never wanted to go back to that shit place. I never forgave myself for being so foolish. To think that I was once so stupid! What if something went wrong and I was never able to have a baby. What if he was a sick man who did things to his patients when they were knocked out. The terrible possibilities were there.

Zara is coming to 1year old, and it’s really a great joy having her.

As a ‘special’ for her coming one year old birthday, instead of writing about her birth story, I’ll write about how we ‘got’ Zara.

We tried many years to have a baby, and almost gave up hope. Here is how it all went, our 6 7 part journey to discovering and treating infertility and finally having Zara.

Since this is long ‘story’, I’ll post 1 part per day on top of my regular post (if there’s anything interesting happening).

Do read on if it interest you.

If you read King’s Wife’s blog, and she reads yours, you would have noticed she’d been very quiet the last few days.

This is because she’s down with fever and throat infection since Monday because she’d been giving too many bjs in one of her yoga pose.

She’s getting better now, and should be making an appearance soon.

By the way, if you wonder, why is King’s Wife called King’s Wife, let me let you in on the secret.

King’s Wife is my sister-in-law. Which mean she’s married to my brother, the King. We called him King because:
– he’s the only son in our family of 4. You can imagine how precious he is to my parents, and he always got away with a lot of things as a son.
– He’s a director in some company, and therefore revered by his subordinates (not sure if they loved him).
– Being a SAHM, King’s Wife has to ‘fook-si’ (?? – ‘provide service to’) her ATM kao-kao (sufficiently) or else will not get allowance to go shopping for another handbag.
– Normally, anything King says, we have to agree or abide although I don’t give a hoot.

A friend even dedicated a poem to King’s wife. You can see, although she’s married to the King, she’s really not the Queen like Yee Ching or the Queen that this fella will eventually get (the shake leg do nothing but have all the ‘servants’ running around her type), and hence her title.

Hope you get well soon King’s Wife!

I was really looking forward to the holidays, 4 days in a stretch, wonderful.

Daddy and I didn’t plan for anything because it’s quite scary to travel during these long holidays because the traffic will be so bad. A four hour drive can turn into a 7hour drive. No sir-ree. Better stay in the quiet city.

We’re lucky we didn’t plan for anything too. As yesterday night, Daddy received a call and he had to travel to Germany tonight itself for work. My face turned sour immediately after he hung up (he was talking on speaker phone).

Me : “So, what am I supposed to do these 4 days?”
Daddy : “You can come with me if you want.”
Me : “niah seng Just for 4 days? You think I’m so desperate? And we’re so well off?”
Daddy : “……”
Me : “Some more you have great plans, want to bring your daughter to the park for walks, do some day trips around KL. Now..” *turn to Zara* “See, next four days, it’s just mummy and you”
Daddy : “…..”
Zara : *grinned* (as she didn’t know what this was all about)

So for the next four days, I will be alone with Zara. Not sure what we’ll do, maybe we’ll :
– camp in King’s Wife’s place
– camp in my sister’s place
– go shopping again
– go to the park with my nieces
– drive each other up the walls (aw, she’s really not that bad; and neither am I)
– go swimming

And in the night, after Zara is asleep, I’ll try to complete my long write up about how I try to conceive for 6years, and finally got Zara, and also, read the 2nd installment of The Confession of the Shopaholic – Shopohalic Takes Manhathan.

That’s something to look forward to isn’t it? Ok, so I shouldn’t complain about the quiet time I’m going to get.