My baby girl, Zhi En, was born on 4 June 2025, at just 34 weeks, weighing only 1.12 kilograms. From the very first moment, her life was a battle, a test of courage and resilience far beyond what anyone could imagine for a tiny newborn. Even before she opened her eyes, doctors diagnosed her with Transposition of the Great Arteries (TGA), a rare and severe heart defect. We were told that without surgery, she could not survive. Because she was so small, doctors could only perform a temporary palliative surgery, hoping it would buy her time to grow stronger. Every day, every breath she took, was a fight against overwhelming odds.
By late July, Zhi En’s condition became critical. Her oxygen levels plummeted dangerously low, and the doctors warned that her brain was at risk. She was still only 1.8 kilograms, a fragile little bundle, but the team decided to perform the full corrective heart surgery. Fourteen hours in the operating room, every minute a high-stakes gamble between life and death, and yet when she came through, she was still with us, still fighting. But the battle was far from over. She was placed on ECMO, a life-support machine, to help her heart and lungs recover, but complications followed quickly. She suffered severe internal bleeding and needed multiple emergency transfusions. Her chest was too swollen for the doctors to close immediately. Her tiny body had already endured so much, yet Zhi En never gave up.
Recovery was painstaking. She remained on ventilation for a long time, receiving multiple medications, and eventually underwent chest closure surgery. Mild pneumonia developed, making every breath a struggle. Every sound, every gasp, tugged at our hearts, yet she kept going. After 98 grueling days in the hospital, we were finally able to bring her home. She still needed a feeding tube and daily medications, but for the first time, we could hold her safely in our arms, breathe in her scent, and feel the fragile rhythm of her heart against ours. It was a moment we had prayed for, a victory born from fear, hope, and relentless determination.
But just as we began to imagine a life where she could grow and thrive, Zhi En fell ill again. A fever, nasal congestion, coughing — tests revealed an RSV infection, a respiratory virus that could be dangerous for any infant, but for Zhi En, whose lungs had already been weakened by surgery and prematurity, it was life-threatening. Her oxygen levels dropped again, her tiny chest heaving with every breath, and once more, we found ourselves back in the hospital, watching over her, holding our breath with every beep and monitor reading. She has now been hospitalized for over two weeks, and her recovery has been slow and cautious. At four months old, she weighs only 3.1 kilograms, a fragile but fiercely determined little girl who has endured more pain, fear, and procedures than most of us face in a lifetime.
Through all this, the financial strain has been enormous. The cost of saving her life has already exceeded S$128,000, and while we are profoundly grateful for the care provided at KK Hospital, as Permanent Residents, government assistance has been limited. We are fundraising in stages, starting with S$64,000, to help cover her medical bills and ensure she receives the care she desperately needs. Every day, every donation, every message of support, is a lifeline for Zhi En, a reminder that her fight is not hers alone — we are all with her.
I watch her tiny face, her delicate hands, the way she curls in my arms, and I am struck by the enormity of her courage. Despite her weakness, her fragility, she continues to fight with a spirit so strong it humbles me. She fights with every ounce of her body, every heartbeat, every breath. And we fight with her. Every sleepless night, every hospital visit, every pang of worry is worth it to see her breathe, to see her tiny chest rise and fall, to see her eyes flicker with life.
Feeding her is a challenge. She often refuses to drink, her congestion making it difficult, and she frequently spits up, requiring us to use a feeding tube. Her growth has been slow, but the doctors assure us she is receiving sufficient nutrition. Her cardiologist monitors her carefully, planning the next steps for her heart surgery, and every decision is made with the careful consideration that this tiny life deserves. Watching her struggle sometimes feels unbearable, but then she looks up at me, and I see a spark — a determination that is bigger than any challenge she has faced.
Every day is a mixture of exhaustion and hope. We are physically drained, emotionally tested, and yet we cannot give up. Zhi En’s life is precious, her spirit indomitable. Each day she survives is a triumph, a victory that deserves to be celebrated. We remain steadfast, standing with her through every setback, every challenge, every moment of uncertainty. I whisper to her, hold her close, and tell her that she is strong, that she is brave, that she is loved beyond measure. And in her tiny way, she responds. With a small kick, a gasp, a flutter of her eyes — she lets us know she is still fighting, still here, still ours to love and protect.
Our journey is far from over. Zhi En’s path will continue to be marked by hospital visits, careful monitoring, and the slow but steady work of growth and healing. But every moment we have with her is precious, and we celebrate every gram she gains, every clear breath she takes, every tiny victory that reminds us of her resilience. She has endured more than anyone should at such a tender age, yet she continues to inspire us with her courage, her strength, and her will to live.
If you are able, please help us support Zhi En’s care. Every bit of help contributes directly to her treatment, to her survival, to her future. And if you cannot donate, please help by sharing her story so others may stand with our little girl, our fighter, our miracle. Zhi En has already shown the world what it means to fight, what it means to persevere, and what it means to hope. Together, we can help her continue to do so.
A Reunion to Remember” — Jenny and Shirley, the Elephants Who Never Forgot 104
More than two decades had passed since Jenny and Shirley last saw each other.
Years ago, they had shared the same circus —
Jenny, a playful baby elephant, and Shirley, a wise 20-year-old giant who took the little one under her care.
But like so many circus animals, they were soon separated — sent to different places, different lives, far away from the only companion who understood them.
Then, 25 years later, fate brought them together again.
At an elephant sanctuary, the caretakers prepared to introduce two elephants who had once known each other, though no one expected what would happen next.
The moment Jenny saw Shirley, she froze.
Her trunk stretched through the metal bars, trembling, reaching — gently brushing against Shirley’s face as if to say, “It’s you… after all this time.”
Shirley responded instantly, rumbling softly, wrapping her trunk around Jenny’s. The air filled with deep, echoing calls — the sound of recognition, joy, and love long held in silence.
“We had never seen anything so emotional,” said one caretaker, holding back tears.
That night, the two refused to be separated. They touched trunks through the gate, pacing side by side, until finally, the staff opened it — and Jenny ran into Shirley’s embrace.
In the years that followed, they were inseparable — walking, eating, and sleeping close together. For elephants, memory runs deep, and friendship even deeper.
Their story became a symbol of how love and connection can outlast pain, distance, and even decades apart.
