How It All Started
In May 2015, my husband and I were over the moon. I delivered a perfectly healthy beautiful daughter. We were busy responding to her needs like slaves. She would cry with a sparrow's dribble of wee, and we would smile and happily change her nappy.
6 week post-natal check-up came around quickly and I had my PAP smear test done. Something was not right. I was called in for further colposcopy, but again, back at home, were back to our routine and feeding our daughter every 3-4 hours, and changing nappies at a sparrow's dribble.
What could possibly go wrong? We got married 11 months ago, and just had a baby. We were living our happiest moments, although deeply sleep deprived. That's how new parents are, right?
We sorted our daughter's passport quickly and went back to Japan in July, our first trip together as a 'practice' before our long haul trip to Europe scheduled in August. Hong Kong to Japan is only 4 hours, so it was a good practice flight, and the fact that you can buy anything had we run out of nappies or forgotten a bottle, made it easy.
As we flew in, we were exhausted but thrilled we made the adventure, and decided to finish the evening with a nice crispy Tonkatsu (fried pork) meal. We were at Butagumi in Nishi-Azabu, in one of the Japanese style rooms where you take your shoes off and sit on the floor around the table to eat. These are amazing as you can have your baby rolling around right next to you while you eat. Just as the main dish was delivered, I got a call, the number started with 852 that was not registered. Who could it be?
"Hello, this is Dr. Chan's office, calling to see if you can come in tomorrow."
"Um, what? Is this urgent? I am currently traveling and cannot come in tomorrow. Can you give me some details? Should I fly back right away?"
"Oh I see, let me ask Dr. Chan and call you back"
That was the longest 2 minutes I had spent, watching my freshly fried pork go soggy.
"Hello again, I am going to switch to Dr. Chan so you can speak to him directly",said the nurse.
"Hello, this is Dr. Chan. Your test results came back and we need to speak to you in person. When is the earliest you can come in?"
"What was my test results? Can you tell me now? I'm traveling at the moment and I plan to be back in 10 days but do you want me to cancel our trip and come back right away?"
"Your results show the cells are malignant. But if it is 10 days, enjoy your trip and we'll see you right away, when you are back"
"What do you mean, malignant. Do you mean I have cancer? Does malignant all mean cancerous?" I was clearly in a panic, but the doctor did not want to elaborate on the phone and the conversation ended there.
We were devastated. We couldn't tell anyone about this as we didn't have details nor had we digested the facts ourselves, but all of the sudden our trip turned into a roadshow of saying goodbyes in my heart, not showing off our daughter. I don't know how serious this was going to be, but the little knowledge I had was cancer = death.
I wept every night. I felt lonely when I should've been the happiest. I failed at becoming a good wife and a good mother, even before it all started. I was super anxious to really learn about what is about to happen. I was worried about my husband. He's not the type of person who expresses his feelings much, it took him 4 years to say I LOVE YOU. He was definitely not going to show how he felt when he knew I was the one going through this.
The next 2 months were a roller coaster.
The doctor told me I had cervical cancer, stage 1B2, and had to go through surgery and radiotherapy with 4 rounds of chemotherapy to compliment the radiotherapy. I was told that I was going to get a full hysterectomy so my biggest dream of having another child was easily crashed, smeared with blood. I resisted a bit, I asked if there are any possibilities of keeping my cervix or somehow preserve my ovaries.
I think the worst part of all this, was my doctor kept on giving me hopes but every time I learnt about a new fact, my dream kept on crashing. My doctor said he will staple my ovaries a bit higher so that it will not get radiated, and will have a chance to keep the eggs. I was still hopeful then, and started researching about surrogacy. It took him about a year to tell me that the eggs are useless since I've gone through chemo. (Now I look back, and with common sense, it's probably very obvious that you can't have a baby once you've radiated that area, but my hopes were still very high then.)
Whilst I had my hopes up and kept on dreaming about that family of four, what the doctor really should have told me was that I will have early menopause, and should take care of my estrogen levels, but nothing like that was communicated.
End of July, I had my hysterectomy. My womb that held my baby for nine months, was taken away, along with 2 other lymph nodes on each side. I had to put a sudden halt on breast feeding as well, with pre- surgery PET scan, and all the drugs going into my body.
Emotionally I was all over the place, and physically I was battered. Within two months, I had two surgeries (I had caesarean for my baby), sleep deprived, and going through all changes that I don't even know where to start. I didn't have the time to be depressed about motherhood, but moreover, I was confused with how to deal with this new living creature. If I was going to die, should I even be pouring love to this baby? Wouldn't it be better if she didn't know what love is, so that she wouldn't lose anything when I left?
I cried more than my baby, but my sister was the one who saved me. We were on the phone when I collapsed into tears and told her how I was feeling and her words were, "Take your time, but when you calm down, go downstairs and hug your baby. It's a fact, you are her mother, and you will always be her mother. She's only got you. So take it, one day at a time."
Sometimes I wonder, if I'm just pouring unconditional love, or if I'm spoiling her. Either way, I'm glad that I didn't not love her. Because to overcome all this, I needed her love too.
November 5, 2019
6 week post-natal check-up came around quickly and I had my PAP smear test done. Something was not right. I was called in for further colposcopy, but again, back at home, were back to our routine and feeding our daughter every 3-4 hours, and changing nappies at a sparrow's dribble.
What could possibly go wrong? We got married 11 months ago, and just had a baby. We were living our happiest moments, although deeply sleep deprived. That's how new parents are, right?
We sorted our daughter's passport quickly and went back to Japan in July, our first trip together as a 'practice' before our long haul trip to Europe scheduled in August. Hong Kong to Japan is only 4 hours, so it was a good practice flight, and the fact that you can buy anything had we run out of nappies or forgotten a bottle, made it easy.
As we flew in, we were exhausted but thrilled we made the adventure, and decided to finish the evening with a nice crispy Tonkatsu (fried pork) meal. We were at Butagumi in Nishi-Azabu, in one of the Japanese style rooms where you take your shoes off and sit on the floor around the table to eat. These are amazing as you can have your baby rolling around right next to you while you eat. Just as the main dish was delivered, I got a call, the number started with 852 that was not registered. Who could it be?
"Hello, this is Dr. Chan's office, calling to see if you can come in tomorrow."
"Um, what? Is this urgent? I am currently traveling and cannot come in tomorrow. Can you give me some details? Should I fly back right away?"
"Oh I see, let me ask Dr. Chan and call you back"
That was the longest 2 minutes I had spent, watching my freshly fried pork go soggy.
"Hello again, I am going to switch to Dr. Chan so you can speak to him directly",said the nurse.
"Hello, this is Dr. Chan. Your test results came back and we need to speak to you in person. When is the earliest you can come in?"
"What was my test results? Can you tell me now? I'm traveling at the moment and I plan to be back in 10 days but do you want me to cancel our trip and come back right away?"
"Your results show the cells are malignant. But if it is 10 days, enjoy your trip and we'll see you right away, when you are back"
"What do you mean, malignant. Do you mean I have cancer? Does malignant all mean cancerous?" I was clearly in a panic, but the doctor did not want to elaborate on the phone and the conversation ended there.
We were devastated. We couldn't tell anyone about this as we didn't have details nor had we digested the facts ourselves, but all of the sudden our trip turned into a roadshow of saying goodbyes in my heart, not showing off our daughter. I don't know how serious this was going to be, but the little knowledge I had was cancer = death.
I wept every night. I felt lonely when I should've been the happiest. I failed at becoming a good wife and a good mother, even before it all started. I was super anxious to really learn about what is about to happen. I was worried about my husband. He's not the type of person who expresses his feelings much, it took him 4 years to say I LOVE YOU. He was definitely not going to show how he felt when he knew I was the one going through this.
The next 2 months were a roller coaster.
The doctor told me I had cervical cancer, stage 1B2, and had to go through surgery and radiotherapy with 4 rounds of chemotherapy to compliment the radiotherapy. I was told that I was going to get a full hysterectomy so my biggest dream of having another child was easily crashed, smeared with blood. I resisted a bit, I asked if there are any possibilities of keeping my cervix or somehow preserve my ovaries.
I think the worst part of all this, was my doctor kept on giving me hopes but every time I learnt about a new fact, my dream kept on crashing. My doctor said he will staple my ovaries a bit higher so that it will not get radiated, and will have a chance to keep the eggs. I was still hopeful then, and started researching about surrogacy. It took him about a year to tell me that the eggs are useless since I've gone through chemo. (Now I look back, and with common sense, it's probably very obvious that you can't have a baby once you've radiated that area, but my hopes were still very high then.)
Whilst I had my hopes up and kept on dreaming about that family of four, what the doctor really should have told me was that I will have early menopause, and should take care of my estrogen levels, but nothing like that was communicated.
End of July, I had my hysterectomy. My womb that held my baby for nine months, was taken away, along with 2 other lymph nodes on each side. I had to put a sudden halt on breast feeding as well, with pre- surgery PET scan, and all the drugs going into my body.
Emotionally I was all over the place, and physically I was battered. Within two months, I had two surgeries (I had caesarean for my baby), sleep deprived, and going through all changes that I don't even know where to start. I didn't have the time to be depressed about motherhood, but moreover, I was confused with how to deal with this new living creature. If I was going to die, should I even be pouring love to this baby? Wouldn't it be better if she didn't know what love is, so that she wouldn't lose anything when I left?
I cried more than my baby, but my sister was the one who saved me. We were on the phone when I collapsed into tears and told her how I was feeling and her words were, "Take your time, but when you calm down, go downstairs and hug your baby. It's a fact, you are her mother, and you will always be her mother. She's only got you. So take it, one day at a time."
Sometimes I wonder, if I'm just pouring unconditional love, or if I'm spoiling her. Either way, I'm glad that I didn't not love her. Because to overcome all this, I needed her love too.
November 5, 2019
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