Plot Twist: Two Blurred Lines

So, I got pregnant at 39. We didn’t really announce it publicly for our peace of mind and because it was a delicate journey. For those who know me well, this is a total shocker! Life happened, and God clearly had bigger plans for us.

In the second quarter of 2024, I was sick most of the time. I had kidney stones, which were immediately removed, and I also happened to have gallstones. Bangladeshi doctors recommended gallbladder removal, but something didn’t feel right, so we flew to Bangkok in July for a second opinion and a series of tests. After thorough evaluation, the doctor advised against surgery and instead recommended monitoring.

With that settled, we moved on and ended up consulting with an OB-GYN in Bangkok for IVF—yes, IVF. I wasn’t entirely sure about it since it required time and full commitment, but I figured, why not? The plan was to start medication in November and prepare for implantation in January 2025. We even bought loads of medications, and they weren’t cheap!

Ever since my kidney stone issue, we tried to change our lifestyle—we got scared. We cut back on vices, started going to the gym religiously (it was literally in front of our apartment), and reduced late-night shenanigans. We became healthier, and my period was always on the dot, which was surprising considering my PCOS.

Then came July. I was a few days late, so I took a test for fun, without any expectations—it had become a routine at this point. WHAT?! Two blurred lines. At that moment, I felt illegal. I was shaking. I walked out of the bathroom and told my husband. He was over the moon, while I was… confused. What just happened? Am I really pregnant?

I took another test, which came out positive. To be absolutely sure, we called for a home service blood test (hCG). All of this happened in a single day. My head was spinning—what’s going on? The blood test result came back, and we went for an ultrasound a week after: “About 5+ weeks of early intrauterine gestation.”

This was it. But why was I still confused? I kept asking myself if my reaction was normal. I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t sad either. I guess I was just… floating.

At the same time, Bangladesh was in turmoil. There were protests everywhere, and the streets were full of violence. We were in a total lockdown, with communication shut down. We weren’t allowed to leave the house, and all we could do was watch the news and wait for any messages from work or the government. These events didn’t help my early pregnancy at all. The once-confused me turned into a scared me.

What will happen to us? What if I have an emergency?

To add to the stress, my husband was waiting for his Philippine visa because we were scheduled to travel in August for my brother’s wedding. And because of the turmoil, the Embassy had to close until further notice. Work also became more demanding due to the worsening situation. I was anxious that my leave might get canceled, but by hook or by crook, I had to go to Manila. Not just for the wedding, but because I wanted a proper check-up. I couldn’t keep my anxiety to myself—I think I even cried while talking to a colleague about it.

God bless him, because after learning about my situation, my leave wasn’t canceled. My husband’s visa was issued last minute, and we were finally ready to go to Manila.

That was August.

Usually, I’d throw a welcome party on our first night back. People would get the invite weeks in advance, and we’d party and drink. But this time was, of course, different. We arrived on the eve of my 39th birthday, and all I was looking forward to was hearing our baby’s heartbeat.

Fast forward to that day: BOOM. We heard it. All confirmed.

We returned to Bangladesh with happy hearts, continued our healthy lifestyle, and went about work as usual. We kept everything lowkey but planned to share the news with our closest friends in the second trimester.

Then… was that blood?

I had my first episode of spotting, and that was just the beginning. My doctor advised me to work from home—this was the last week of September (start of 2nd trimester). The spotting stopped for a while but then started happening more frequently. I couldn’t stop crying. I cried almost every day. Every night and day. 

My doctor prescribed more medication, but what really affected me was the weekly injectable HPC. I cried every time I had to take it. It was painful, left a lump each time, and eventually, I had so many that it became uncomfortable—even painful—to sleep. Thankfully, Sujan found a nurse who came to our house every Sunday to give me the jab.

I felt isolated. Being at home all the time, not seeing anyone—I was very scared for the baby because my body kept failing him. I started questioning my faith. I was exhausted, vulnerable, and definitely depressed. I wanted help, but I couldn’t say it out loud.

My supervisor at work knew about my condition, and I must say, my office supported me all throughout. My husband was my rock—still is. He didn’t know how to handle the situation, though. His instinct was to talk things out, thinking it would help, but I’d just shut him down and cry. He was confused too, but he never left my side.

Fast forward to November—I was admitted to the hospital for the second time after a major scare. My sister-in-law insisted we go to the ER immediately. She had been our guiding light through all this. After two nights in the hospital, we decided to reassess our plans.

We had initially planned to travel to Manila in January 2025 and had already applied for my husband’s visa. But after this recent scare, we requested the Philippine Embassy to expedite it due to an emergency.

At this point, I told myself: Pregnancy struggles need to be normalized. Pregnant women should acknowledge them. It’s not about being ungrateful—it’s about being human.

The change in plans wasn’t easy - it was a risk but we still made it to Manila. It was one of the best decisions we made as a family. Everything changed. I stopped bleeding. I stopped crying, too.

Since I was in my third trimester, I had more frequent follow-ups. At my 32nd-week check-up, my doctor found that my cervix had already started effacement. She advised me to stop working until delivery. I told my husband to rebook his flight for an earlier date once he received his visa.

February 7th: Routine check-up. Vitals: 143/70. My doctor didn’t take it lightly and ordered lab tests and an ultrasound. That night, just as I was about to sleep—excited for my baby shower the next day—my doctor called.

One of my test results came in. It was 31 times higher than normal.

I had to be admitted. Immediately.

I was officially admitted at 1 AM on a Saturday. At first, I still thought I’d make it to my baby shower if I got discharged on the same day. But by 11 AM, I knew it had to be postponed.

Sujan arrived that day. I was emotional. Seeing him, I cried tears of joy. He saw my bruises—both arms covered in marks from repeated blood extractions. My veins had collapsed. It was too much. After days of tests and close monitoring, I was finally discharged on Tuesday, with a strict 14-day rest order.

Considering my generalized anxiety, I was surprisingly calm.

On February 26th, I sent my latest ultrasound results to my doctor. She simply replied: "Get admitted tomorrow."

February 27th, we checked into the hospital at 2 PM. By dawn, my BP spiked. My doctor ordered an emergency C-section.

February 28, 8:25 AM. Our baby boy was born.

Life changed. Right there.

We had to go through some close monitoring, but eventually, we went home—with a plus one.

Overwhelmed? Yes.

Other thoughts? Just relief and happiness.

Nothing else mattered except him.

I’m now a mom, and my husband? Promoted to Best Dad in the World.

We are blessed.

Thank you.

If COVID-19 Didn't Happen

"We will remember 2020 as a year of disease and death, and lockdowns that separated friends and relatives, and businesses from customers, causing depressions of both the economic and clinical sort" - The Spectator 

Well, 2020 is said to be the worst year of our generation and we all share that sentiment to some extent. For me, 2020 was one of the best years. No, I didn't get married 😑 but it was the year when I felt accomplished the most. It was the best time to help others, the best time to be a virtual support system to anyone, and the best time to be alive. 

I lost count how many times I felt like giving up but I also lost count how many times I got back and tried again. If COVID didn't happen, I would never know the extent of my capacity. My humility and patience. 

I did things that I never imagined doing in my 11 years of service. There were people rooting for me but also people who were so good in discouragements and criticisms. And that, my friend, pushed me to achieve everything that I never thought of achieving ever in my career life. 

If COVID didn't happen, I will never meet and get to know the amazing people who changed my life forever. Those people who helped me to cope and survive. I know it's not over yet but imagine being away from your family during the 1st wave of the pandemic? When everyone thought that it will be over in weeks. When getting a phone call from home, at midnight, made you the most anxious and paranoid person in the world. When having a simple sore throat gave you the worst scenarios playing in your head. Damn.

I was given the privilege to go home for the holidays. Yes, it was a privilege.  I know people who can actually leave for some time-off but it will not be a roundtrip ticket anymore. I didn't manage to meet everyone but those 45 days of being there were the shortest 45 days of my life. Time flies when you are having fun. The situation might have barred us from a physical bonding but those times should never be taken for granted.

If COVID has taught me anything, I learned that we will only realize how irreplaceable our moments are, when we are forced to live distant with so much uncertainty. I can't believe that we will be in the situation where we don't know what's normal anymore. When we need to acknowledge that not everything is about me (or you) because other people are struggling too - even worse. 

Millions didn't make it last year but more people did. If COVID didn't happen, we will never understand what survival means. That we can actually survive with the new normal. 

It could be depressing as we are wired to connect and to be social. We are not done so let's continue to hope. 

"Hope is a good thing, may be the best of the things. And good thing never dies." - Shawshank Redemption

How It's Like to Have a COVID-19 Scare When You're Away from Home

Due to exhaustion and burnout, I've decided to start working from home on weekends. That was 2 weeks ago.

Friday morning last week, my voice started to sound weird. It went from 60% to 20%. I couldn't speak well and struggled to every phone call I got the whole day but still managed to enjoy the weekend.

Come Saturday, my voice went from 20% to 10% and started coughing with sore throat. I was confused if I should go to the office the next day because I thought I was fine. FYI, work resumes on Sundays in Bangladesh.

Obviously, I went to the office on Sunday because there was no way that I could skip my important meetings that day. I reported my condition to our in-house physician and UN doctor and was prescribed for medication but was also advised to go home. Although my body temperature was perfectly normal, it's better to self-isolate and observe for any developed symptoms. 

A day after, my sore throat was completely gone but still coughing. The next day, my voice progressed from 10% to 95%. However, since I'm not yet officially well, I've decided to finally request for COVID-19 PCR test just to be sure and for my peace of mind. I was confused at first if I should get it because I didn't have fever or something. But after consulting with my doctor friends, I said, why not. When you are in that situation, believe me.. decision making is not that easy so better know which advice to take.  

I was expecting to get the confirmation for my appointment and finally got booked the next day - Wednesday.

I got up super early and was feeling anxious. I felt like having a bad headache. I called the clinic to confirm the time of collection but they said it's uncertain and be patient. Yes, I guess that's what I needed.. patience. 

The medical personnel did a home-service to get my samples. It was almost lunch time and I was starving. It was a nasopharyngeal swab sampling. It was awkwardly painful but not that intense - I guess it would depend on the person's tolerance. It felt like I snorted a ton of water lol. He left and I resumed working as if nothing happened. I was told that it would take 24 hours to receive the result. Damn, I hate waiting and that, folks, were the longest 24 hours of my life. 

I told my family about it. I got mixed reactions but ultimately, they were all supportive and had zero drama. 

In less than 24 hours, I received a notification through my email. I couldn't believe it. I didn't open it. I was damn scared. But a text message popped-up for the same reason.

NEGATIVE.

Suddenly all the rush went out from all parts of my body like I was relieved from an intense roller coaster ride. That's it. I'm just having a normal cold. I wish I could jump around and hug everyone who were scared with and for me. A virtual high-five for now, I guess.

I don't get scared, scared. I'm always up for thrills and I find some contentment with it (except with rodents, ewwwww). But because I'm alone and away from home, I get to have those what-if scares, you know. 

Not all would understand me but when you're out and about and you've been exposed to different things, you know at some point that you are vulnerable but you have to be strong and cringe alone. Life is short and has full of surprises. Even if you think that you're the bravest, something will scare you somehow until you learn your lesson that you're just a normal person like everyone else and will, at some point, lose and get beaten by it. 

Here's to all the brave souls. May we all learn to acknowledge our losses and accept that fear will keep us all night long and will make us stronger. 

Why I Chose to Stay in Bangladesh During COVID-19 Crisis

I've been wanting to write something during this period but I just couldn't because of my workload. As you know, I am still working as usual, I go to the office, but 7 days a week. The government of Bangladesh imposed for lockdown which they call a "general holiday" since 25 March 2020. It was supposed to be a 10-day shutdown only but we all expected that it will be extended (now it's until 25 April). 

Before WHO declared COVID-19 as pandemic, I already booked a ticket to the Philippines for a 2-week vacation in May. I booked it as early as 05 February as the situation seemed normal that time. On 21 Feb, I received a notification from Thai Airways about flight adjustments. From 2 hours to 14 hours, layover. I thought it wasn't really a big deal. Well it was, because I had to stay overnight in Bangkok but I never expected that something serious was about to happen.

Come March, countries started to impose travel bans. On 18 March, my flight was officially cancelled. Was I sad? I was devastated. President Duterte said that Filipino citizens are welcome to come home but not as if he will send chartered planes to countries to pick us all up. USA did. Not sure in other countries, but that's what they did in Bangladesh. 

Working overseas is not easy especially when you're alone. It's overwhelming, that's why we need social life to balance it out. But now, the only thing that's close to social life is ZOOM-ing.  

COVID-19 lockdown is the world's biggest psychological experiment. I call it a Great Depression. Businesses are closing, people are losing jobs, and the middle class is facing its greatest threat in this lifetime. Our human interactions are so limited that we feel deprived. After this crisis, we don't even know where to start or how to act normal because we are confused to what's normal like.

People ask me why I'm still here. Well, although Thai Airways bailed on me, there was actually one last option: to fly through Malaysia Airlines. I had that small window to go home but I did not. Why? 

"This is not something we imagined would ever happen but we need to remember that our work is vital now more than ever.."

Our Country Rep told us that. And for me, that's enough for me to stay. 

Some few colleagues left and I don't blame them. It's not as if they're less humanitarian than us. They had their own valid reasons and when the shit hits the fan, should we feel bad for staying? I don't think so. Because we all had our chances. We all had our dilemmas. We all had those sleepless nights. And whatever was decided was already decided. It is what it is. 

I don't regret staying. We are placed right where we are but the process is painful. I don't have to lie about it. I'm fighting everyday and it's exhausting. Someday we will look back while we tell stories to younger generations. 

We need to survive this. We should. Because this whole thing... is one for the books. 

it is what it is.

But what I've learned about closure is that it's not necessary. If you don't get the closure you wanted from others then find that closure within yourself. - Thought Catalog

Mostly, we wait for closure before we take the next step even if we are in a situation that constantly makes us feel worse about our self. We hope that someone would just say it to our face and give us a solid b*tch slap so we can move on already.  

Move on from that job application that you've been wanting all your life. Move on from that car you can never buy. Move on from that weight you can only achieve if you die from hunger. Move on from your favorite celebrity couple who made you love them like your own offspring. Move on from that social status you will never get because you spend more than you earn. Move on from that kind of friendship that was as fake as her eyelashes. Move on from that jerk who said he wanted you but he was just bored that’s all. Etc etc etc etc.

Closure is like signs. We look for signs to affirm our planned decision. And let's be real here - one of the hardest decisions would be to either give up or keep chasing pavements (yes, that's Tita Adele right there).

We can wait, sure. But waiting means taking that leap of faith as well. Life doesn't stop while we wait. That's not how life works. Life's a game - an unfair game as we call it. But we continue to strive more while we wait for our turn. And when that time comes, that’s like that cold beer you’ve been dreaming on a summer day or that hot chocolate on a winter morning.   

As we all end 2019 soon, let it serve as a closure to everything that we've been frustratingly waiting to happen. Because sometimes the longer we wait for closure, we tend to ignore the fact that it is what it is.

khalas!

Keep Calm and Carry On!

The thing about writing something and posting it online is that you can go back and read tf your mind worked that time lol.

There’s so much to reflect about this year but what’s significant is that 2019 had me embrace change more than I could ever imagine.

“During your transformation, you might feel like everything is falling apart, but in reality, everything is coming together for your highest good. You’re being pushed to evolve and get out of your comfort zone so you can live and experience your true greatness. Welcome change.” - Anonymous

Every chance I get, I would look back to last year and the year before that. Not to emote or something but I look back to those times when I was too broken while I hold on to that very weak string about to give up because of depression. When I reached the rock bottom but I managed to pull up and be glad that I made it back to being whole again. When something like that happens to you, when you feel like you’re struggling to get out from a black hole or you feel like everything's going against you, look for change because change will save you from it. Well ok, I’m not sure if it applies to everyone but it definitely worked for me. Fortunately, change came this year. Because of what I endured, I felt like I’m a totally different person with a bunch of lessons learned from last time. New perspective and I definitely know the subtle way of not giving a f anymore (except when I’m on PMS).

The decision I made of leaving PHL to work abroad for longer term was a big step. Those people who think that overseas work-life is alright, wait until you experience it yourself. You guys think that you know, but you have no idea.

My situation is somewhat better because of some perks but what’s different is that, in less than a year, I’ve moved to 2 countries already and moving from one to another is not easy! Just when you thought that everything’s like home already, you realize that it’s time to get your sh*t together because you need to pack your life again and move. You again start from scratch; you play by your own judgement – trusting your instincts. Someone told me that it seemed that I adjust easily but dude it’s not even close. I struggle too but I always find ways to be relieved. The thing about moving, it’s like you’re not allowed to get too attached to something and someone because you will have to leave (again) soon. And that’s terrible but I guess I need to learn how to deal with it. So yeah, whatever.

Nevertheless, I’m grateful for everything and for all the fond memories from this year. Thank you, Lord for 2019. I’m thankful especially to the people who have touched and changed my life forever. My shenanigans and stupid whatnots. Those temporary emotions lol.

I don’t know what the future holds but I’m definitely excited for 2020.  So, cheers to positivity... Keep calm and carry on!

Nigeria

It is like a routine check for me to do some research before coming to a new place. I check photos, videos, I read Wikipedia, testimonies, travel blogs/vlogs, watch movies, etc. While I try to learn things about a place, what I don't realize is that I'm mostly bombarded with stereotypes.

Chumamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Nigerian writer, once said during her session on TED Talk that "the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story."

The people who actually follow my social media accounts would know how much I enjoyed Nigeria. I sometimes receive very interesting comments but I also understand that some are really curious while some are just trying hard to make a statement.

People would be surprised how pleasant this country is. I was lucky to have visited 6 states plus FTC and every place had its own story. Abuja, the capital, is beautiful. I am sometimes convinced that their capital is better than the capital of the Philippines - starting with the issue on traffic. Kidding. Let's not go there.

Living in this continent is a state of mind. It changes you and words are not

enough to explain the fascination of its wealth and culture. Asia is home but Africa is special. I am obviously excited to go home because of the stories I'm eager to tell. Stories that would hopefully break stereotypes and will build colorful imaginations.

A friend told me six months ago that I will be different six months after. I believed him. And ever since, I kept asking myself what has changed until this day.

I don't know if I will have the chance to come back but what I know is that I will leave nothing but memories that will be with me forever. I will miss you and everything about you. Thank you, Nigeria. Well done.

"You cannot leave Africa, Africa said. It is always with you, there inside your head. Our rivers run in currents in the swirl of your thumbprints; our drumbeats counting out your pulse; our coastline the silhouette of your soul." - Bridget Dore