My grief journey

This has turned into a grief blog. It's part of my life now. You don't move on from grief, it's not like regular breakup or something you can move on from. Instead, you live with a newfound sadness. It's literally quite depressing so I don't talk about it. My default emotion used to be enthusiastic, but has since been replaced by withdrawn. I'm still functioning as an ENTP the last time I checked; it's still my core character. But I've mellowed and softened a lot since, not due to age but by my experience. Age hasn't mellowed me one bit, I'm still lashing out with gusto at injustice. But I pick my battles more wisely now.

I once spoke to a pastor casually about not being able to move on. It was at the end of the service and we stood around chatting. I told him this: "I'll never move on. This grief will take forever." He dismissed me, "Rubbish. You will eventually move on, it won't take forever." I realised I should have kept that to myself and I've never uttered anything like that again. I also thought to myself, he must not have lost any loved ones before.

I'm a very reflective person at night. I reflect alot on the day's passing and every night hits hard when my thoughts land on my sister. Those nights I wanted to do a post, yet I didn't. It's always the same thing anyway, what's new?

Tonight I finally caved.

Some 3.5 years have passed and no, it didn't get easier. The questions got more complexed and the answers I drew from my own blended thoughts got more mysterious. So she died from depression, it was sudden but it wasn't unexpected. At least not to me. The tears have subsided significantly but the heartache grew in volume. It's unfathomable yet I understood it.

The breaking point has got to be my kids. Beth definitely only remembered my sis through stories and pictures. She was 16 months old when her aunt, my sis, passed. And Elijah. I yearned for her to see him, I can almost imagine her shaking her head with resignation at his uncontrollable rowdiness.

My sis would have been great with my kids. She would spoil them like no other. I accept she's gone. I accept it all. But it didn't matter what I knew or didn't, she's gone and that's the hardest pill to swallow.

Tonight, I wallow in my sorrow.

Sometimes

One day, my MIL visited us and while I was doing the dishes, she gazed at the frames of my sister and said:

"I think of your sister sometimes. We don't know why she did it but..."

And that was enough for me.

Of weddings and funerals

Today, I just realised...that I'll never get to see my younger sis marry. And it hit me square in the guts.

Seeing my best friend's younger sisters getting married clearly set off waterworks. I literally watched them grew up too. 

Also grieving the death of a Taiwanese singer-actor far longer than I normally do. Does it count if I become a fan posthumously?

One death is still one too many. 2020 has gotta be the most difficult year to date.

Photos from the past

From time to time, I'll scroll through baby photos of Beth. Each time I scroll to June 2018 my heart would drop; it's the last birthday month we'll ever celebrate with my sis, and we didn't had a good celebration at all. Long story short, it could have been better. I didn't know she already had plans to kill herself. It was painful to see happy photos of ourselves from that timeline. Her death ruined those moments. Perhaps one day I'll see it differently, for now the knowledge and awareness killed the good times for that two months she decided to act on her suicide plans.

July 2018 was the month she left us. She had probably been planning for almost 2 months, and there were a few triggers but none as fatal as the one that happened day before her passing.

I do realise I spent more time writing about my sis after her death than about motherhood, the kids, my life as a stay home mum. Frankly, grief and sadness motivated me to record my thoughts. Looking back, I wrote whenever I was unhappy. Through blogging, new reflections surfaced, thoughts internalised, and memories created - the story unfolds.

When I don't have time to write, I pray. I pray a lot and I pray over everything big and small. Praying sustain my sanity. God sustains me. All things are possible with God, therefore nothing is impossible. God knows I longed to see Mabel again. May that day bring me right back where I belong.

Painful pangs

Last night I was doing my nightly ritual with Beth, which was basically talking. We would chat about her 'younger' days. "Remember when I was born?", she'd go.

It was cute.

And a pang of sadness hit me. If only Mabel was around to witness how adorable Beth is now. How chatty, witty and funny she is.

These are the little things that make me unbelievably sad. Happy moments, yet always tinged with a little bittersweet aftertaste.

At times, Beth would ask innocently, "Where is yiyi?". I'd ask "Which one?" and her replies sometimes caught me by surprise as it came out of the blue.

"There", her little fingers pointing to the sky rhetorically.

Yes, yiyi is in Heaven my love.

The missing never stops

Sometimes I wonder what our relationship would become if my sis hadn't left the world in such a traumatic and abrupt manner. I find it difficult to share this part of me: Knowing she have the tendency and thoughts of killing herself always left me wondering when her time is up.

I don't usually speak of it; for people are unusually clumsy or awkward and insensitive with their response. "Why didn't you seek help?" As if I had the hindsight.

So now....I know. This feeling of wishing, hoping and reminiscing. This emptiness in my soul reeks of warm salty tears. Reading and seeing others post endearing sweet nothing of their sister often bring a bittersweet smile and punch to my gut. Sisters are my kryptonite.

How do you continue staying alive for someone else when you're living in misery yourself. Why are you better off heaven bound rather than earth side, with your earthly family whom you know will never forsake you. When did the trigger become so unbearable, only in death can you find solace.

Oh the questions I ask myself night after night.

I see my sis' image in everything I do and touch - the kids expressions, their faces even. Oh the resemblance. When I cook or bake and when I ate something delicious that's right up her alley, I wish she could have a little taste too. When I catch myself fancying something and remembered she'd like that too.

The dead truly live through our memories.

Occasionally, I find myself thinking "Do I have depression?", "Do I need help?". My thoughts and mindset have evolved. Was I ever this vulnerable, raw and authentic? No. Her death changed the way I view the world. It changed everything I knew and trusted. It made me a brand new person who holds her tongue more, speak up less, observe more and worry less.

Her death won't be in vain. It's up to me to make something out of it, even if I don't know where to start. Perhaps by passing on her kind and generous spirit to my children, so she may live through them, their sweet yiyi.

Till we meet again, Mei. xx

Cookies. Memories. Mabel.

We made cookies and it's yummy! I wish my sis is still around to delight in my delicious cookies together, she'd approve.

Someone close asked why I suddenly baked cookies. Truth is, I had very fond memories of baking with my sis. She's usually the initiator and I was often the assistant. We never followed recipes, always just trial and error. She was a very talented baker who also loved to cook. I miss her so much.

So... pictures!

Simple ingredients

Organic suganat cane sugar we used for making our water kefir

The best choc chips

Got them at the bigger Fairprice

I love macadamia!

"Creaming" using butter and sugar - this process is sooo tiring as I don't have an electric mixer. Creamed this by hand for almost 30 minutes to get a 'light & fluffy' texture.

Added the 'dry' ingredients: flour mixture and choc chips

Rolled into tablespoonfuls of balls

This is so cathartic

Baking is so therapeutic

Resting them on a cooling rack

First bottle

While the kids sleep, I baked some more.

Macadamia cookies! I added the nuts later on.

I followed this recipe

Stash for emergencies 😂

Better than subway!

Yum!

I love milk so anything that goes with milk are automatically my favourite. My learnings? Recipes may be there for a reason BUT the process of not following recipes produced the best memories for me and my sis. I'll never forget our times in the kitchen, experimenting and bonding over food, they were the very best.

Letter to Mabel: Are you in a better place?

We've been sleeping earlier as a family and I quite enjoy having sufficient sleep these days, what with two children to care for. For some reason, I even smile in my sleep. Which is why, I thought of you.

As I opened my eyes, the night is still young. Singing from the getai nearby permeates the otherwise quiet night.

I wonder how you are. Your body may be long gone but your soul - doesn't all souls go to heaven? I wonder if you still look the same? Or are our bodies just a shell?

No matter what you look like, I'm sure I'd recognise you.

This afternoon during our family nap (minus Nick who was at work), I had a supernatural encounter. I saw 'Nick' walked into the room with the door still closed. I heard sounds. I was still in a stupor so I let it be. When I finally fully roused from my sleep, I carried Beth outside to investigate. Hmm no signs of Nick.

I know what I saw and I wasn't the least bit afraid I can tell you that. But it can't be you because your soul is in heaven. Nick thinks I'm dreaming.

I miss you so much. I don't know how you do it, leaving us all behind to grieve over you. I could never do that to my family. But then, I've never been through what you went through. Not fair to compare.

It's gonna sound like a broken record but having you for 33 years is seriously the best thing we could ever have. Thank you for fighting to be born, and then to live for this long.

Your birth as told countless times by Mummy, isn't the easiest birth (legs birth aka lotus birth). Mummy could have died. You could have died. But you fought to live :')

Thank you for fighting Mei. It was a good fight even though you still lost to Depression. But it's okay, it's all over now, and you can be at peace forever.

"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

Till the day we meet again xx

Goodnight, Mei

What do you do when you miss someone so badly but they aren't around anymore for you to tell?

I look at your picture and cry, and I start talking to your picture like you can hear me.

I honestly thought I wouldn't have time to miss you as much once Elijah is here. How wrong I was.

Elijah makes me happy, so does Beth. Having two children means my time is devoted to family, and any sliver of breathing space I get, I literally catch my breath.

Yet, I miss you so much it freaking hurts.

Who do I tell that would understand me.

Whenever I think of you, I hug Beth and Elijah tighter. I tell Beth I'm sad and she'd comfort me with a cute frown and exaggerated downturn lips. She know what being sad means. She can even hold a proper conversation about it.

"Mummy sad huh"

*frown & downturn lips*

"Okay.."

*back pats & hug*

She's amazing.

My biggest regret will be that Elijah never got to know you. It hurts to know he won't even know who you are, no pictures together, no nothing.

I don't dream much anymore, my sleeps are so truncated that dreams don't exist. But maybe tonight, I might dream of you?

Getting sleepy.

Goodnight Mei, till the day we meet.

Sleeping babies

You know what I miss?

This.

My newborn sleeping face next to me when I wake up in the mornings.

When Beth was little and I was still a mum of one, I could stare at her all the time. Just tilt my head down, and there she'd be, all snuggled up next to me with her cherubic features.

Super cute.

Sometimes they'd give you a treat with a lil scrunch of their face or a crinkle in their nose, still in their state of slumber.

Super super cute.

We still co-sleep with Beth (and loving it) so logistically speaking, it gets squeezy to have both of them in bed with me. Beth sticks to me during her sleep, consciously or unconsciously. I've no room to move. Both children flank me on both sides when I bring Elijah to bed during night feeds.

I treasure moments like these when I get to wake up next to Elijah's cute sleeping face.

I wish we've a bigger room to put a bigger bed, something like 2 King size for our expanding brood.

My Magical Home Birth

This experience has been so enriching and rewarding that I'm glad it went the way it did. Granted, it wasn't the smoothest labour compared to my first - I was told so many times second births are faster but not in my case.

I'm still recuperating rather slowly but feeling so much better as the days and weeks passed. My body will only get stronger, my wound will heal, my mood will improve, things will get better. For now, I rest while I share the story of my amazing home birth.

The fact that it coincide around my late younger sister's first death anniversary was both an emotional and spiritual thing for me. I lost count of the number of times I prayed for strength and for this new chapter in our lives to mend our broken hearts.

Having gone through the Bradley Method antenatal course the first time round was very useful in preparing my birth. The subsequent Love Based Birth classes was an important and essential refresher. I absolutely loved attending every single classes conducted by both courses. It was all I needed to have a positive mindset and the awareness of what to expect, a crucial asset for any births.

Being very in tune with my body and baby, I started making big batches of bone broths for my confinement as well as the actual labour to nourish my body and prepare for Elijah's arrival.

I even had very specific prayer request - for baby to come after week 39 for personal and health reasons so he can benefit from being a full term baby. At the same time, I'm fully committed to God's plan, whenever baby is ready, so will I be.

I became very nervous in week 38 as I counted down to week 39, not knowing what to expect but always trusting in my body's ability to know what to do. 

Around the same time, Nick was invited to catch his childhood idol, Juventus, play at the National Stadium. The match was set for Sunday night.

By then, I had formed a niggling feeling baby will be due around the weekend period. I kept it to myself and basically gave him the green light to accept the invitation. That was the first real start of anticipation that our baby is coming, even though I was the only one who knew. I started dropping preemptive updates to my birth support team in our group chat.

Over the course of 1-2 days, that niggling feeling grew and heightened and I couldn't ignore it. Nick was the first person I broke my silence to: I had strong instinct my labour will take place from Saturday to Sunday, and Elijah will be out by Sunday morning. He had to unaccept the invitation.

The day finally came.

True enough, my surges (contractions) intensified gradually overnight. Thankfully, it was similar to my first birth. A textbook birth as I call it. The gradual process helped me make sense of the pain and manage it in a way my body could and would bear. I didn't think I've a high pain threshold, so nothing too sudden for me would be nice.

I shared with my care practitioner about my intuition: That I'll labour from Saturday to Sunday, giving birth on Sunday morning. However, my strong surges are telling me a different thing - I could deliver by midnight.

I activated my birth team on Saturday evening, they arrived no later than 9pm.

The birth pool was set up, and birth supplies all within reach for the action.

Game on.

Nick supported me through my earlier contractions before the team arrived, with lots of hip squeezes to alleviate the contraction pains. Strangely, by the time they arrived my surges had slowed down drastically. 

Something changed when I went into the pool ready to birth as my body is telling me to push - my surges had tapered off rather abruptly. It meant one thing: It was no good birthing in the pool, my plans for a gentle home water birth flew out the window in a second.

I knew I had to step out of my comfort zone and trust the process. This was a huge shift in direction. I don't remember feeling sad or angry, I just went with the flow and adapted quickly, much to my birth team's relief I think. I credit this to the many consultations and discussions I had with my care practitioner, we had built trust and understanding, I know I'm in good hands regardless of my plans. It was the one thing I didn't doubt throughout my whole labour.

I thought, God's will - so be it - as long as I'm in good hands, God's loving hands and the people he had surrounded me with.

My contractions became very irregular after that. I breathed deeply through every single one of them. No visualisation or hypnobirthing exercises for me, I tried practicing during pregnancy but couldn't see myself doing it. During one intense surge, I heard a low and lovely sound breathing exercise coming from my team and I followed eagerly. "OOOOOOOMMMMmmmm~" I bellowed before mellowing to a halt. It felt so good! I will practice it for my third birth. Ha!

An awful amount of time has passed. My labour was stuck in the transition phase for a long enough time - shivering, urge to push, painful contractions - but nothing was happening. I was kept hydrated after every surge but the whole process of nothing happening with every uneventful surge took the wind out of me. I declared exhaustion, and was offered food to fuel up. I was fed Royce chocolates.

I got into so many different positions to try and push him out to no avail. Finally, my birth photographer Keidi who's also a practising doula suggested a spinning baby method to disengage baby's head from my pelvic bone so he could reposition himself for birth (assuming he got into a bad position). I had to say that was the most painful thing ever but it worked! I was so grateful for all the loving hands that held mine while I was working through this.

Almost 7am on a quiet Sunday morning, as I had predicted, the magical hour that Elijah arrived to a roomful of loving and gentle hands. He appeared undistressed and curious, just like his big sister.

I was stitched up while nursing Elijah, simultaneously working through the nasty after pains from my uterus shrinking. 

Elijah's measurements were taken and his health status examined. We then took pictures in bed. Bethany was so excited to meet her little brother.

We are now a family of four.

Letter to Mabel: I need to talk

I miss you so much, not in the sense you're sixth feet under and I miss you kinda way, but in a I need to talk and I choose to tell you because you'd understand and commiserate with me sorta way.

I miss calling you, hearing your voice and just knowing you're there makes me feel so much better. Everything else wouldn't matter, you being there was good enough.

I just wanted to talk. Not because I had anything important to say, but I just needed to rant my miserable self away and I choose you because you'll get it in a heartbeat.

I just wanted to say, my nipples hurt so much this time round from nursing Elijah because his latch is so shallow but his suckle is so strong. Stuff like that. Nothing important like I said. Just things I wanted you to know.

And I'm catching a flu, a sore throat, I think I got it from Beth. I don't know how it started but I've never had such high frequency of flu before. My immunity is so lousy.

I'm recovering so slowly and I'm impatient, but trying to be chill, because what else can I do right? See, stuff like this that I only share with you. Nothing important, just stuff that matters to me.

Now that I'm a mother of two, I'm so so tired. Fulfilling, but tired nonetheless. I'm not even asking for naps, because it's understandable I don't get them anymore since I chose to take care of two children on my own. I only wanted to rest for 10 minutes sometimes to recharge, or eat my lunch and dinner without interruption. It's so hard, I love what I'm doing but it's so hard without help. I just gotta wing it till I got it. I chose this myself, no help.

If you're here right now, you'd do a burly laugh then offer your sympathy which makes me feel a little better about myself. You'll support, encourage and cheer me up.

But you're not here anymore, and there's no one else to replace you. You'll always be my special angel. My greatest cheerleader.

All I have left are these hidden feelings.

Feelings of bliss, for making me a big sister to a little sister in you - though you're the unofficial big sister to me. I wish I was a better sister and I knew you'd agree with me. But I also know you've forgiven me a long time ago when you stepped up to be the best sister ever. I say this with fondness and truth.

More hidden feelings.

Feelings of anger - reason and person. Feelings of envy - others' siblings. Feelings of fear - my child dying.

Yet most of all, feelings of regret.

I'm tired, so very tired of missing you and wishing you were here.

Blues

How would you feel when, in the middle of recovering from a painfully long and slow stop-start labour, you ask your husband to check on your perineal stitches - so you go on all fours atop the bed with your derriere up in the air - and the room door suddenly opens, the visitor lingered and didn't think twice to leave the room even after seeing your naked bum...?

The awkwardness of not being able to jump off the bed made it worse because you're moving in slow-mo from the pain and your initial warnings to ward off the intruder didn't work, you got more flustered that the other visitors would read it as open invitation and strut right in. Horrifying thought.

Before I could unembarrass myself, said visitor and her family left angrily without seeing Elijah. I found out she was angry at me - what? - my initial warnings - or shouting - had offended her, she felt it was uncalled for, she had knocked so she felt totally justified for her behaviour, and later insisted I should have locked my own room door in my own house. She chose to ignore my call and did not accept any of my explanations over text. Rather, calling me a liar ("STOP LYING") and accusing me of being dishonest ("I just WANT HONESTY"). I quote her word for word, capital letters and all.

We were all shocked by her behaviour. I felt really bad for my mum who didn't had a clue but had to watch them leave angrily. My mum is so wonderful, she didn't even question me - she said she hadn't heard any big commotion in the room even though I thought I sounded pretty loud and flustered. I was basically screaming at the person coming into the room - had thought it was my mum informing us of visitors. I didn't want the visitors to misunderstand they could all come in - knowing them, I was so afraid of that happening! I couldn't believe it when I saw who was in my room. Shocked is an understatement.

Nick was cradling Elijah and moved - slowly as always - trying to block my naked bottom, Beth was on the bed with me. Our little family were all in there checking on Mummy's stitches - this fact somehow amuses me later on. Our room used to be our private space, or so I thought. As long as our room door is closed, my mum would never even think of coming in, so it was a bit strange and frightful that she'd come into our room that day. There is nothing my mum can't see, she is after all my mum. I just didn't want the visitors to follow my mum into our room unintentionally.

It was embarrassing. But said visitor didn't think so. She went on to be sarcastic, challenging my supposed modesty - I support breastfeeding in public and do so discreetly and tactfully but exposing the rest of my body just isn't the same.

I wasn't upset in the beginning, just baffled at her reaction and behaviour. I apologised, offered my explanation and tried to close the gap on our differences - none were accepted, she chewed me out completely and then complained this isn't the first time I was rude to them.

There is no form of empathy, nor understanding going on here. She clearly made it about her, when this moment should be about Elijah and me. I was pregnant and then I gave birth, I wouldn't want to be rude at all, I was conserving my energy for myself, I had no interest nor energy to be rude to anyone. If I was, it was all unintended obviously. If I was rude, it was to safeguard myself, my energy and my emotions. If only she understood.

This negavitity has been manifesting for over two weeks since the unpleasant incident. Not fun for someone going through postpartum. All these big feelings are messing with me. I do need to let it go and focus on my little family, they are all that matters. I am not responsible for how she feels.

Initially I didn't think like that, I felt bad for causing all that unhappiness and even apologised to Nick for possibly souring his relationship with his cousin (said visitor's husband) and also to my mum for having witnessed such unnecessary drama.

I do need to be better to myself. I am only responsible for the words that came out of my mouth and my own actions.

Having big hormones does mean that I can go from a Mummy's high one minute, and super low in the next moment. I can't be too cautious of my thoughts. I had experienced a brief moment of postnatal blues in my last postpartum and I'll never forget that awful low feeling. Any mummies are susceptible to it, no matter the personality and lifestyle. It just hits you.

This is why I feel the need to talk about it, and not let it overwhelm me. This kind of drama is the last thing I need during this period. Birthing Elijah was hard work - Nick told me my chest veins were all popping out from pushing, it was intense. I am super proud of myself and my birth support team. Am letting that sink in for a bit.

This visitor was someone I respected so I couldn't just ignore it at first. It has been two weeks and I don't know if she still hold a grudge against me, but I've decided to let it be and let God work it through. I've said my prayers, made my peace and hope for the best.

Reading my post, you might think I had a verbal altercation. It wasn't even like that. I found out all the details through text messages, Nick's texts to her specifically. I can't imagine if it was an aggressive confrontation, what will it do to my mental health?

Praying for the rest of my postpartum period to be as uneventful as possible.

A letter to Mabel: Motherhood

Mummy is helping me with confinement and we briefly talked about what you'd be like as a mother - noting in my head how you had asked a gazillion questions about pregnancy and breastfeeding while you were still alive.

Grieving is such a lonely process, even though I have Mummy and Nick to talk to, there are still some things I can't talk about with either of them.

Maybe you thought we'll eventually move on or deal with your loss positively, but it's not true, not for long anyway. Especially not for Mummy.

Happiness is temporary, pain is forever.

If I was sure about one thing in life, it'd be that I've always known I'd be a mother, and you too. Or so I thought.

I had thought we'll be mothers together, nurturing our children, giving them chances to be close friends.

After you passed, I figured one way I can give my children a better childhood is by giving them more playmates. We never expected my second labour to be long and slow, it was a bummer - we really want more children to follow. It was dampening. Anything can, and will happen in childbirth I guess. Not taking my female health for granted.

Life with two is not easy, especially when managing on my own. But with babies, everything is just a phase. I'm incredibly thankful for Mummy, she is such a wonderful grandma and so supportive. I won't be able to handle this confinement without her help at all. Love Mummy to bits.

I have too many thoughts and not enough time to pen it down - maybe later. Love you mei.

To my dearest Mabel in heaven

On the first year of your death anniversary, we celebrate life - the birth of Elijah, your nephew. Mummy and I miss your presence and wish you were around to soak up the joy of our precious newborn.

I'm recuperating well from a long and slow labour and I've learnt so much from my second birth experience - if only I could share them with you.

Mummy shared her labour story with us today. I didn't know you were a lotus baby (legs first) born vaginally! Mummy was so strong to have birthed you the way she did.

We've not stopped talking about you, sometimes it seems as if you're still around and never left.

Love and miss you always, mei.

Happy birthday Mei

You're still the best thing that's ever happened to us - even though we didn't know it yet.

Counselling

11 sessions of marriage therapy + 1 single session of grief and loss concluded the last session with our counsellor, with an open date.

The sessions has always been good and helpful. Since we started counselling in mid August last year, 9 months of therapy has helped improve and strengthen our understanding of each other and I dare say that has renewed our marriage spiritually and emotionally.

With my impending delivery of Elijah in another 2 months' time and also the fact I feel we had held ourselves together very well despite a 2 months hiatus from our final session - previous session in March - which had never happened before, I boldly initiated a cessation with Carol.

I enjoyed our sessions so much and was actually reluctant to stop but I knew commitment would be an issue once our baby boy is born. I also feel ready to let go of our dependency on Carol, and to work our way to the next level in our marriage - to have peace and mutual understanding.

I'll never know what to expect with our marriage lifeline cut off. Truth is also, I've never felt happier and stronger than now. I have faith in Nick and in our future as a family of four and perhaps more. God is surely in this with us as he has always been, binding us together as one in a trinity knot.

I'm not afraid anymore. I am not grieving anymore. I'm not even the same person anymore. I still shed tears on special occasions and holiday seasons when I think of my sister but I know she is happy and free now. I already know I'll meet her one day and I look forward to that. Now, I just need to live my life without regrets so I don't waste a single moment of it as a mother, daughter, wife and friend.

My life reborn as a grieving sister is a gift. Grief has been my best teacher and I'm learning more than I've ever learnt. Grieving more certainly doesn't bring anyone back so I've learnt to let go and let God direct. To my grieving friends, the epiphany will come in your grieving journey one day. Until then, you'll learn so much more than you ever have. 

Now you can see why I have so much to live for, before I go on to live with Angels in heaven and to meet a special angel, whom I call my darling sister.

Letter to Mabel: Does it ever get easier when I think of you?

True enough, special occasions are the hardest. I wish I could still receive your birthday greeting and eat together as a family. I miss you so much I teared to myself at the stroke of midnight, knowing I'll never receive your prompt greetings anymore.

Birthdays used to be happier affairs becos we'd eat out together as a family and I'd enjoy bantering with you. I miss you mei.

Truth is there were happy moments these past few months and I truly thought it'll get easier when it comes to you.

What I've learnt since you left us suddenly 9 months ago:

1) There is a silver lining in your death. You were relieved of your pain and suffering and reunited with God. Clichéd as it sounds but you taught me to treasure the living loved ones on earth.

2) Shifting the mindset to let go of fear and negativity. No point in sweating the small stuff, especially those I've no control over.

3) Value moments, not materialism. I've repeatedly rejected gifts for myself and even Beth becos we have enough. I've invested in photos and experiences becos they'll always be great memories.

4) Health and safety are our most prized possessions, we shouldn't take it for granted.

5) Never be afraid to draw strength from people who care,  you're not quite alone.

6) You won't know how far you've gone until you look back, so keep going.

7) Take your time, you're a work-in-progress.

8) When someone hurt you, they're actually hurting inside.

9) Help others, and you help yourself.

10) There is so much good in this world, keep believing.

Beth keeps me sane and from crumbling everytime I think of you. If not for her, I wouldn't be able to see the flowers from the thorn. I've not kept in touch with any of your friends and even fiancé. I don't know what are their thoughts or how they're coping.

Everyday is a blessing, knowing Elijah is healthy and active, our baby boy, your first nephew, is due to be born in a few month's time. I'm hoping he'll come timely on 25 July, the day you left us. Perhaps...

Thank you for leaving so much great memories behind, I never truly feel too distant even when I can't see, hear or feel you anymore.

I love you.

Till the day we meet xx

Letter to Mabel: Bethany turns two

So tired but can't fall asleep because I miss you so much. You should be there today, celebrating your beloved niece turning two. Instead, you left a void that we could thankfully fill with Beth Beth's (as how you prefer to call her) laughter and pure happiness of being surrounded by her dearest loved ones.

We miss you mei. I told Mummy I miss you and didn't think you'd have joined us today if you were around. Mummy knew otherwise and said with conviction that you would have. And I knew instantly how much Beth means to you.

I really wish you were around a lil longer :'(

Good and happy thoughts :)

Convalescing well from my flu and cough that Beth passed to me. 

Today I'm 20 weeks pregnant - halfway mark. My bump is growing steadily compared to last pregnancy. Time to pace and spread out all the miscellaneous packing and unpacking in preparation for my little Hope.

Wishing my sis is around to support and cheer me on. Missing her lots as always. Even though I still cry when I think about her pain and tear streaked face through words spoken and unspoken in her very last letter to me, I also imagine she's happy and free from suffering and that comforts me greatly.

Sometimes I look up at Heavens and smile, oftentimes I cry. I smile knowing she's happy up there, cry becos I selfishly want her with me. I regretted not treasuring her more when she's alive, not knowing I'd carry this much guilt with me. I sure know she doesn't blame nor want me to feel this way ever. I just can't help it.

I'm trying to be a better daughter, wife and mother. It makes me feel good when my loved ones are well taken care of.

I don't have much worries these days, my prayers consist of good health and stability in my household and our parents'.

I love watching my bump grow :) This life inside me brings great joy and peace and helps neutralise my grief and anger, even hatred. I can't wait to meet you, little newfound Hope. You're so desired in our lives even before you're born :)