Two Years

It’s been slightly over two years since the operation and a long rollercoaster ride. I would say that we’re currently on a smooth track. She’s turned three and doctor visits are now once every six months, a huge difference from once every six-weeks.

We’ve swopped out her conformer for her prosthetic eye again for a more natural look but she seems to have outgrown it and the alignment is not quite there… we may have to create a new one. There’s that implant operation that failed twice, yet doesn’t have to be done right now.

Being mean to Matty since 2015. In his house. With his book. While he stares on. 

She doesn’t let it get in her way. Despite only having one eye, she walks and runs like any other kid her age. She can kick balls (and the butts of bullies in future) with good aim, having constant practice along the long corridor outside our house. If it doesn’t bother her, it shouldn’t bother us.

We have to keep her eye properly moisturised as the prosthetic eye is unable to produce moisture. Somehow, it’s a struggle at home, but she lets her teachers at childcare do it for her. Childcare transforms children, I tell you. It’s been less than a month in school and she has been having regular afternoon naps, eats her vegetables (!!!) and even lets the teachers tie her hair in fancy styles *brain explodes. This was never possible. The closest I got to tying her hair was when she was influenced by the witch in Room on the Broom. Even then, she only let me braid her hair when she was role-playing the witch. I should have sent her in earlier.

Look at this girly girl with her IKEA cat that never leaves her side.

Pro-tip: Use an easily available toy as your child’s comfort item. Good luck if your child’s chou-chou is passed down from 30 years ago or discontinued. It’s going to be many sleepless nights for both of you.

This IKEA cat is a reincarnation of Cat Version 1 which was unfortunately and unintentionally left behind on a flight to Korea. I emailed the airline, but didn’t get a favourable reply. Poor cat. I bought another one off the shelves for her. It’s only $9.90.



My First baby is Three

My baby turned three. She was once a three week old embryo, then a three month old foetus, a three week old newborn and three month old infant. She is now a three year old preschooler. There’s no stopping time, huh. We first knew of her existence through a blood test which caught my pregnancy at 4 weeks, the earliest that a pregnancy can be detected. Elise is quite a strong little girl. At nine weeks pregnant, I suffered from food poisoning which could potentially cause a miscarriage. During my delivery when my water bag was punctured by the gynaecologist, green fluid flowed out, a sign that she had pooped in the womb. When foetuses pass out meconium, it is a sign of foetal distress and can lead to respiratory issues if aspirated. Her heartbeat remained stable and I managed to push her out in time. My first comment upon seeing her was, “Wow, she has a dimple!” 

As my firstborn, she had the misfortune of being my guinea pig for everything. When she was four days old, I wore her out in a ring sling, swaddled. It wasn’t until I posted in a babywearing group that I became aware that babies in ring slings were not supposed to be swaddled. I was a post-natal, sleep deprived first time mom, but we made it through. I powered her fully on breast milk, pumping when I was away at work and latching when back home.

In her first year, she was a chubby and bubbly baby learning how to flip, sit, crawl and stand. Towards the end of her first year, we discovered a tumour in her right eye and it was a huge blow to us as the only way to save her life was to remove her eye. You can read more about this here if you haven’t already and are curious. I got pregnant with Didi after her prosthetic eye was fitted. Year Two involved her starting playgroup, going on play dates, playing soccer barefooted along the corridor and becoming a big sister without a choice.

In Year Three, her vocabulary exploded and she… sort of behaves like a mini-adult who voices out her preferences, likes and dislikes, requires alone time, tells her mama to “엄마, please go away”. She is All About Dinosaurs and loves making up her own stories to illustrations in books she has yet to read. She is generally polite and readily says “Thank you”, “Excuse me” and “Sorry” when the situation calls for it, yet resorts to hitting and biting as a sign of expressing her frustration.

No amount of coaxing, coercion or rewards can make her let us tie up her hair. Her favourite person in the world is her grandfather and she prefers to stay home (don’t we all?).

Her first and second birthdays were celebrated with friends and family. This year, she decided she would have none of it.

“Elise, do you want us to sing Happy Birthday? How about a cake where you can blow out the candles?”

“NOOOO OOOOO OOOOO!”

She is so over the fanciness and fuss of parties and celebrations. At three years old. What have I bred? Does she have a soul of a granny?! Her most commonly uttered phrase when Didi cries is, “Don’t cry Didi, Elise is here”.

We brought her out to Northpoint City, where we frequently go to stock up groceries at the Korean mart (super duper friendly until cannot Korean store manager).

At Kiddy Palace, we tried enticing her with COOL EXPENSIVE MADE IN CHINA TOYS like Super Wings, Tayo and Fireman Sam, to which she replied “No, not now. Next time.”

She had been pestering us for Lion King, which we were clueless as to what it meant. Eventually, she picked out a set of plastic safari animal figurines with rocks, fences and shrubs. Total price? S$9.90. 👍

We already have a set of plastic animal figurines. And Dino figurines. 🙄 What am I complaining about. Rather S$9.90 than S$109.90 right?

Let’s see what the future has.

A Lesson on Looks

Elise has had her prosthetic eye in for slightly less than a year. After her follow-up in January, we were told that the tissue below her prosthetic eye had eroded due to abrasion and insufficient moisture. I was supposed to put in eyedrops for her as many times a day as possible. She would run away from me whenever I tried to touch her eye and I failed to fulfil this necessary criteria. 

It wasn’t a wound that would heal by itself, thus Dr Ganga suggested that an operation be done to cover up the gap. He warned that there might be a need to do a skin graft off her back if the donor tissue wasn’t enough to cover the gap. I agreed almost immediately because the hole would only continue getting larger with repeated contact from movement. The boring name for the procedure Elise underwent is “Scleral Patch Graft for Exposed Orbital Implant”. Don’t Google that if you’re squeamish. 

The operation went well and the donor tissue was enough to patch up the 5mm gap in her eye socket. We spent the next two nights in a 8-bedder ward. She vomited and ran a fever, yet she refused to take Paracetamol orally.  The Paracetamol was also to help her combat the pain from the operation. Eventually, the nurses gave her Paracetamol via intravenous drip. -_- 

The worst part was when the nurses tried to change her eye dressing. It was a necessary yet traumatic experience for her as the wound was fresh and her entire eyelid was stitched shut and swollen. To prevent her from struggling, we swaddled her with a bedsheet. My dad held her legs down. A nurse held her head down while another tried to wipe her eyelid and apply medicine.

“No, no, no, no! Go away! Go away! Help! 엄마! 公公!No, no, go away! 아빠!”, she tried all she could to get herself out of that situation by pleading with us to stop, calling for each of us to save her. She gripped my hand for support. The hand which failed to rescue her from fear. It was impossible to adhere the tape for the eye shield onto Elise’s face which was dripping with perspiration and tears. 🙁

For about 10 days after the operation, her eyelid remained stitched shut to aid wound healing. At its worst state, it looked like someone socked her in the eye. It was all red and puffy like a goldfish’s. For a breather, we brought her down to the playground opposite our house. She enjoyed herself but there were a group of children aged about 8 to 10 years who were extremely curious about her appearance and started gossiping. They even went straight up to scrutinise her eye. URGHHHH. Even after I told them she’d injured her eye.

She felt rather self-conscious and down about it. My dad decided that there was nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about and that night, we brought her down for a walk. Another group of children. This time, they accepted the explanation, included her in their games and she healed a little inside, only to get it broken the next evening when she spotted a friend she frequently hangs out with. She called out for her friend, who saw that her eye wasn’t quite the same and hid behind her helper. Elise tried to engage her, showing a toy she had, but that failed too. I couldn’t take it and grabbed her away to play with something else. Secondhand heartbreak. 🙁 

Fun fact: Some adults can be idiots. At the mall, a stranger asked us, “Why is her eye like that?”, only to be shushed by his female counterpart who had about a hundred times more EQ than him. Some people think through their asses and talk without a filter. I snapped back, “关你屁事!(lit. None of your business!)“ but he was too far gone. At the bus interchange, a helpful uncle chimed in with his useless advice, “There’s a temple near Sheng Shiong, you should bring her there.” By that time, my social meter was reduced to negative and whatever I replied would have possibly sparked a physical fight. 

Two days ago, she had her stitches removed. It still looks like she has her eye closed because the swell has yet to subside and there’s discharge which constantly leaks from the wound and has to be cleaned. The wound needs about 6 weeks to heal so we can’t slot in her fake eye just yet. It’s a conformer like what she had last year. Post-op care has been a struggle (holding down her limbs, holding her head in place, cleaning in between her tightly clamped eyelid, prying open the eyelid to drip in medicine). Just this evening, her conformer popped out as I was cleaning it and we decided to leave it until tomorrow morning. 

At her teacher’s encouragement, we sent her back to school today! Her classmates are still too young to care about appearance. It’ll be a while before she looks like this again, but soon! The sad lesson is that how you look determines how you are treated in the world.