Friday, September 28, 2012

Spring flowers in my heart

29th September is a special day.
It's a day that I kept for myself.
It's a day that my 3rd child,
Andrew was born 23 years ago.
It was also the day Andrew started his dying journey.

29th September 2012,
Today, becomes a special day for K.
It's a day her child Z,
is taken from her.
Cry K, cry!
I understand how much it hurts.

I am posting ordinary garden flowers.
Because on this day,
K and I don't care for the flowers,
Garden or florist bought.
This is the day, we rather want our child in our arms.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Glover memorial: with a heart

This building is called the Lotus. It is made of stone. A stone flower. Memorials are made of stone, to remember a lost loved one. This company makes stone memorials, and they have a heart.

2011 marks 100 years since Glover Memorials first started business. We want to give back to the communities which have supported and trusted us to honour their loved ones. We are also keen to continue leading the way so that our memorials are superior, personal and are excellent value for money. 
We take pride in the fact that we are the longest standing Monumental Mason in Wellington and one of the oldest in New Zealand. We are an integral part of the wider community that we serve. So we make it a goal to help where we can to improve our neighbourhood and encourage other businesses to do likewise.

Special Sands Offer...

Response to our offer to provide free little plaques for stillborn and newborn babies has been overwhelming. We have to date been able to bless hundreds of lives. We came to realise that this particular loss often has little to show for it, no photos, no precious memories, and because of that often no acknowledgement. These simple plaques can make a huge difference. There must be hundreds of families and individuals throughout New Zealand with a similar loss. If you or someone you know would appreciate something like this email us at with your child's name and date, and include you name and address so that we can post it to you.
Please note. This special offer was intended just for people in New Zealand, but as news has spread we have received requests from overseas. While we are happy to help as many families as we can, for those outside New Zealand we will need to charge $100NZD (approximately $50US) to cover all the costs including shipping.

Monday, September 24, 2012

You are here : Home › Documentary Still Born, Still Loved.

A documentary that tells my story. My story is neonatal death, it is the same as still birth. Ultimately, we have empty arms and heavy hearts. Some people who are lucky and never experience our tragedy say this is too sad to read. I hope they will continue to be lucky and never encounter this sad event. To the rest of us, I know reading and watching bereavement helps.

In a week, it will be Andrew's birthday 23 years ago. Add another 55 days, he would be dead.

Peekaboo Hi Anne. Please see link to our new doc. Please share with friends and spread the word. thanks

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Still Born, Still Loved : The Life Within Us

This is a feature length documentary looking at parent's journey's from the heartbreak of stillbirth, to acceptance, moving forward with their lives, and finding happiness and a joy in living.
How do you carry on when the baby you’ve been waiting months for dies before you had the chance to ever really know her? When on the day you were supposed to be bringing your baby home, you have to carry a tiny coffin and see him buried in the cold ground? What happens to all the love you feel for your child? How do you move forward with your life with a heavy heart and empty arms?
This documentary goes right to the heart of the human suffering caused by the death of a tiny baby. There is no greater suffering for any parent to bear than the loss of their child. We will tell the parents’ own stories, using their own photographs and video footage of the only precious hours or sometimes days they will ever have with their child.
Our film is special because each of the stories within it has a powerful, life-affirming message, as the parents involved work through their suffering to accomplish something really spectacular in memory of their baby. Despite the tragedy in the film, the outcome will be uplifting and inspiring, and will highlight how even the most vulnerable of people can shine in the face of adversity.
Our challenge is to find the light within the darkness. To show the humanity and humour that enables the parents, and our audience, to find their way through this sorrow to a place of acceptance, happiness, laughter and a joy of living.

The Creative Team

The Writer/Director is Debbie Howard of Big Buddha Films, an independent film company in Sheffield, UK. Debbie has made a slate ofaward winning powerful, thought provoking films in the past. You can see all of their info on their website:
"After completing Peekaboo, I felt very strongly that there was so much more to say on this subject.  I felt that these parents should speak for themselves. This subject matter is not popular, but these stories must be told so that people understand what happens to someone when their baby dies. I feel utterly compelled to make this film and break the silence around baby loss. This is my mission."
Debbie Howard
"A wonderfully tender and compassionate articulation of love and loss. Peekaboo unwraps the layers of grief and emotional reconciliation with heart breaking precision and sensitivity."
Caroline Cooper Charles, Creative England

What we need to raise financially

We have raised £7,000 so far. We need to raise another £50,000 - £60,000 to complete this film. We wil be doing this in stages.  We have a target of £2,000 for this pitch, so that we can reach our target and get shooting. But any addition money will be going to towards the total amount needed to complete our film. Please help us to do this. We are offering some great things in return, see the rewards on offer.


"Thank you for what you are doing. When I lost my little girl, I had no idea that losing my child in the way I did was even possible - not really. It wasn't mentioned, there was no warning. And then to go on to find out how common it really is really frustrated me. Awareness needs to be brought to this topic. Something needs to change.
I look forward to tracking the progress of your project. Strength and light to you as you embark on exploring one of the most cruel losses. And thank you again for taking it on."
With love, Cath Adelbert, Sydney, Australia

Project Sweet Peas


313 Crest Ave, Belle Vernon, PA, 15012
EIN: 27-3679594
Causes: Health

Project Sweet Peas is a non-profit organization run by volunteers across the country, who through personal experience have become passionate about providing comfort to families with children in the intensive care units and to those who have experienced pregnancy and infant loss. Our programs support the wellness of families by providing care packages and other services that offer comfort while furthering the bond between parent and child, and treasured keepsakes to families who have experienced a loss. Through our services, we give from our heart, to inspire families with the hope of tomorrow.
Corin Nava
My fellow bereaved mum from USA Ellen introduced this to me. This looks like the Sands in New Zealand.

Saturday, September 22, 2012


One day old Andrew. Paul Khor came and took these photos for us. I was heart broken knowing there were the last photos we were going to have.  No expensive flowers for Andrew. Just garden weeds, the dandelion.

What is reality?
Twenty three years  and 6 days to this day,
I had been sick for a fortnight
My cold, persistent coughing and weak bladder kept me awake.

Twenty three years and 5 days to this day,
I went to my doctor
He admitted me to the hospital.
I had a battery of tests.
I went to the antenatal ward,
I made friends with mothers who have problem pregnancies.

Twenty three years and 4 days on this day,
They sent me home without any treatment.

Twenty three years to this day,
Andrew was born 3 weeks early.
They tell me he was going to die tonight.

Twenty three years less 55 days to this day,
Andrew died.

What is reality?
Reality is he is gone.
Reality is crying into your pillow.
Reality is empty arms.
Reality is many things are frivolous.
On the plus side,
Reality is I have empathy,
I care for the less fortunate.
Reality is there are many like me.
I cry for those bereaved mothers.
My heart bleed for those who are not allow to grief.

REALITY after losing a child…

When you were given 2, and one is taken.

When things go wrong, and not planned, your baby is not coming home with you, and you have got a clue what to do, Sands is there to visit you and they work very hard.

Just home now from meeting a very precious angel. So bitter sweet as her twin sister lay in mums and dads arms as a healthy newborn. Such love in that room for 2 very special babies who will not as they should, grow up together. A tough night. xx
Sands Manukau.

SV we know what that is like with our twin boys

Ann Chin :I experienced that scenario too. She was the sick twin.
Her parents left her to die in the hospital alone.
She didn't become an angel straight away.
It was more like 2 months.
She was my Andrew's friend.

Excerpt of my book: Diary of a bereaved mother, Goodbye my baby.

Do you remember Dr Bobby Tsang? He was our friend who told me about this twin who was abandoned by her mum on the day. Baby Lo had spina bifida and had hydrocephalus. She was in Nursery 5, the cubicle just before Andrew’s. The cubicles were partitioned on the top by glass and her cot was diagonally across from Andrew. I could see Lo’s cot from my chair and the nurses didn’t mind me popping over to see poor Lo because she had no visitors. Like Sina, the fluid was building up some much that the head was very big. Unlike Sina, she had no operation to insert the shunt to drain the fluid to relieve the pressure. You might think she was a space alien or ET. Lo was just waiting like our little Andrew. The only difference was that Andrew was surrounded by love and lots of people. Lo had that wait alone. Andrew and Lo were the two oldest babies there and were “hopeless” babies.

Each time I felt moody, the doctors and nurses told me to look up across to poor Lo and reassured me that I was a very loving mum and Andrew and the whole hospital knew it. Indeed, just looking at her gave me this warm fuzzy feeling. I did not abandon Andrew. I wasn’t self-justifying or glorifying myself. When you are in a disastrous situation, you cling to anything that gives you hope.

When I went back to the hospital to say thank them after Andrew had died, I asked how Lo was. Though her mum had abandoned her to die, she still came to give her four woollen gowns. Most of the times she came in for a fleeting visit to pick up her soiled woollen gowns. They needed to be hand-washed and the hospital would not wash for her. I had seen her couple of times and I asked the nurses who she was. They told me she was Lo’s mum.

What’s the profile of a mother who abandons her dying baby? Was she a grotesque person or an ogre? She was a slightly older Pakeha, not a young mum. No, she was your ordinary person who made her choice of not wanting her dying baby. Her reason, only she knew. But I think I had a good idea. She didn’t want to form an attachment and when the tragic time finally happened, the separation wouldn’t be so painful. Besides, God had given her a healthy twin. I am not quick to judge people now. She was also a kind woman. She told the nurses to give the knitted gowns that Lo had outgrown to another baby. Or was it? Was it that she didn’t want anything to do with things used by Lo? You wouldn’t know.

Andrew wore Lo’s hand me down knitted lemon gown to meet his coroner. Her head had grown too big for her to pull the gown over it. His nurse Daphne gave it to Andrew.

Lo’s short life impacted me in a way that nobody would understand. God put Lo in my life to gently remind me that I am not a failure. She constantly told me that I was a good mum, I did not abandon Andrew the way her mum had abandoned her.

During the Christmas holidays, Dr Bobby Tsang came to our house and told me that Lo had gone to play with Andrew in the Heavenly gardens. No more pain, no more big head. He said he knew I would want to know.

Heart wrenching

My Australian friend Cath's friend is 21 weeks pregnant and was told her beautiful girl had passed away. This morning via ultrasound they have seen a squirmy very much alive baby!! They are not out of the woods yet as there are still some issues so please keep them in your thoughts and prayers. Keep fighting  we are all behind you and your beautiful mum xx

My Andrew was declared dead one mid day. We had the doctor come take his pulse and he told me that he had died. The lead nurse led us to a special parents room to be with him. How I survived those few hours, I couldn't explain to you. About 5 hours later, he returned from the dead.

I won't want this to happen to anyone.

excerpt from my book. Dairy of a bereaved mother, Goodbye my baby.

Chapter  8 -    7 November 1989

More astounding than fiction.
More incredible than Hollywood.
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away.

Job says, "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away”

Today, an earthquake of the highest magnitude struck. The carnage was so great. Andrew was pronounced dead. Even though we were expecting him to die a month ago, when it actually happened, it still hit me like a ton of bricks.  What was the worst was when we were told that he had died,  after an afternoon, he slowly bounced back and he was alive again. How cruel could that be? Someone was playing a sick joke on me.

At about 11 in the morning, we had an agency nurse. She comes to work when nurses are off. She was a black woman, and she asked what I was doing every day sitting by Andrew. I told her I held his test tube as we fed him. She said surely I could do better than that. She suggested that I could give him a bath. I told her I was uncomfortable. I couldn’t even bring myself to change his nappies. I reluctantly agreed without arguing with her that I was afraid to see his body. First she said we would do it together and we ran the bath. Then she said she would watch over me. I stripped Andrew and proceeded to bath him. I cleaned his face with a face cloth. I started to cry.
 My eyes fixated on his small genitals.
 I subsequently learnt that this was one of the most horrifying aspects of Campomelic Syndrome babies. There is something wrong with their Sox-9 gene and that leads to sex reversal. Some babies initially scanned to be a boy turned out to be a girl.
 At that time, the homosexuals were claiming equal rights, and some farmers had come out in support of this bill as they had seen their homosexual animals. In fact, when I was a teenager, I helped Mum and Dad feed the ducks and chickens. I have seen ducks mounting each other. I didn’t dare to tell Mum and Dad but I told my eldest sister Rose. It was the first time I was exposed to homosexuality and my sister Rose gave me a discussion about the lesbians in the royal court of the Chinese emperors.
If the nurse hasn’t been around, I could easily have dunked him in the water and drowned him. Andrew wasn’t very happy in the bath and was in distress. Then he turned blue. Olwyn Dickson came and I was so happy to see her. She had not come to visit since 21st October. I washed his hair and put him back in to his cot.  I just wrapped him in a blanket without dressing him as he was too distressed for further disturbance. I gave him some oxygen. He appeared more relaxed and started to pink up.  I dressed him and cleaned the bath. I asked Olwyn if she would like to cuddle him while I returned the bath to the storeroom.
As I came back, I couldn’t remember if Andrew was making distressing sounds, but he looked very blue. I took him from Olwyn and gave him more oxygen.  This time, he wasn’t just blue. He had turned completely black and he wasn’t uttering any sound. He had stopped breathing and had no movement. I didn’t give him oxygen and clutched him very close to my heart. I thought to myself, the moment has come. The agency nurse went to get two nurses, Anna Saunders and Nurse Mary from the next room.
Mary, a more experienced nurse, told me to hold Andrew up.
I kept murmuring, “Do not resuscitate.”
I just held him to my bosom, and my head bent over him as though I were a mother hen protecting her brood. My tears flowed quietly as there were two other mothers in the room and there were five babies. To protect them and not upset them, I didn’t cry aloud. Then another staff nurse came. They got the charge nurse June Humphries to come.  Then a young doctor came.
It was about 12.10 pm. The young doctor looked at Andrew, and opened his eyes. There was no flicker of eye movement. He listened to Andrew’s heart through the stethoscope. 
He said, “60” and then, “He is not breathing.”
He was implying that Andrew was really dying now.
The charge nurse told me she would inform Dr Andrew James. Then she asked if we wanted to go up to the parents’ room where we could have privacy. What was happening to Andrew and me frightened the mothers as it could be inevitable for them too.
 The parents’ room was a nice room where family, whanau and parents can be together for their babies last living moments and after they have died. Sometimes, breast-feeding mothers slept in it while their babies were in intensive care. Parents slept there the night before they went home with their premature babies. It gave them some sort of an orientation, that while they had their babies, they had the assurance that Ward 11A where all the doctors and nurses were just downstairs.
I was in a daze. I had no idea where we walked to get to the parents’ room and where it was. I just held Andrew and walked with the charge nurse holding my shoulder and leading me. Olwyn said she would ring Chen Onn, and I gave her the number to his office. She walked downstairs to the ward office to ring. That was in the days before mobile phones were around. She went and she came back again. I told her if she couldn’t remember to check the telephone directory under Bruce Wallace.  It was strange; despite all this, I was quite calm and I even remembered to take my handbag.
On the way to the parents’ room, I thought I heard Andrew making “Hic Hic” sound. When we got to the parents’ room, it seemed that he was breathing albeit very weakly. The nurse said it is like that, that he was slowly dying. She apologized about the unmade bed. She started making the bed, explaining that a breastfeeding mum had slept there. That was the last thing on my mind. I sat on the La-Z-Boy chair holding Andrew. He was still black.
As I sat alone in the room, I was thinking,” Did they think I tried to drown him when I was bathing him?  I had not tried to bath him, and the first time I did it, this happened.” I was angry with this relief nurse. She had bullied me into giving Andrew his bath when I told her I didn’t want to. I told her I didn’t want to bath him and she said she would do it together with me. Yet, she left me alone. I even started to ask myself, did I try to drown him?
Olwyn came in and said she could not contact Chen Onn’s office and she rang her husband Don to contact him.  Most of those in Ward 11A would have seen us walking past the entire length of the ward and knew that Andrew was dying, as Andrew’s room was the last nursery at the back of the ward.
June Humphries, the charge nurse, came with a special quilted blue duvet for Andrew. I was wondering, why is she giving him a blanket? He is already dead. Why does he need a blanket?  It belonged to the hospital.
She said, “Here’s Andrew’s cuddly.”
I said, “It doesn’t belong to us.”
She gave the duvet for me to wrap Andrew in. She felt his pulse at the ears and said there was no pulse.
I queried, “What about his slow breathing?”
She replied, “That is to be expected. When people die, they do not stop breathing immediately.”
Nurse Lynn Jefferies came with a tray of tea and coffee.  Mr. Dickson came and we told him that Andrew was still around. He discussed something with Olwyn. Olwyn said the doctor had pronounced it and it was a clinical decision. He told Olwyn to ring Iris Cook, our church office secretary to tell her that Andrew has started to breathe again. He asked Iris to contact Elaine Clarke, the assistant pastor and Linton Conway, the church secretary to tell them the same message. The time was 12.30pm.
Dr James came and asked me what had happened and I told him. Just three days ago, on a Sunday, I had asked him why Andrew was getting bluer and bluer and if Andrew was getting weaker and weaker. The nurses had observed that he was getting more distressed and unsettled. Dr James said, perhaps, but we don’t know. As babies grow, they get more distressed. His blackness was probably due to the carbon dioxide which he wasn’t breathing out as efficiently as before.
Normally with babies, they would do a blood test to see the carbon dioxide content, but with Andrew, we would not be doing these tests as there was no need for them. Looking at him breathing weakly, Dr James said he didn’t think Andrew would die just yet. He would probably have more of these attacks before he finally succumbed to the last one.
Since he hadn’t died yet, we should give him some oxygen to make him less miserable. Dr James suggested I bring Andrew back to Ward 11A for some oxygen, or he could arrange for some oxygen to be brought up. I was indecisive. Chen Onn wasn’t around yet, and I couldn’t make this monumental decision by myself. Would he die if we did not give him oxygen? I was sure he was dead when he was completely black. I felt very relieved then thinking he had died. I told Dr James, I would wait for a while and see what would happen. 
Chen Onn rang up. He was on his lunch hour and had gone for a walk. His boss, Roger Chalmers, went to look for him in Newmarket and found him in a shoe shop.
Roger told him the minister had rung.
Chen Onn knew that it was serious when his boss went to look for him, and he rang to see what the situation was.
I told him, “The doctor had pronounced him dead, but he started breathing again.” Then I couldn’t talk any more.
I asked him to talk to Olwyn. They talked and Olwyn said she would go and pick him up and at the same time buy some lunch for the girls. I had forgotten about Deborah and Gabrielle altogether. I told Olwyn that Deborah should be at the crèche now. Olwyn asked if I wanted Deborah to come up to see us.
I said, “No, not yet.” I didn’t want to scare her seeing him looking black.
Olwyn replied, “Good, you will need time to come to terms with it.”
After Olwyn had gone, Mr. Dickson sat by me. He said a prayer for us. Andrew started to make some distressing cries again.
Mr. Dickson said something like, “Andrew, it is peaceful up there.”
A few times, Andrew started gasping for air. He was holding me very tightly and drawing his legs up to his chest. He was making distressing sound again as he could not cry. I don’t know how long it was. It was heart-wrenching to see him in such pain and struggling
I prayed, “Andrew, go to Jesus, do not fight anymore. God, please take him. He is in such pain and I am in agony.”
It seemed like eternity.  How long he struggled, I had no idea. Then he must have been so exhausted -- so was I.  He stopped struggling just as Chen Onn and Olwyn came in. Chen Onn was crying. Andrew was pitch black and lifeless like a corpse.
Chen Onn said, “He won’t last today.”
Chen Onn went outside, Olwyn told Don to go to him. He was crying outside. When Chen Onn came back, I asked him if he wanted to hold Andrew. Much as I wanted to hold Andrew during his last moments, I felt it was important for Chen Onn to hold his son as well. Chen Onn sat on the bed crying and cuddled his lifeless son
Andrew began breathing but it was very slow, it wasn’t even laboured. He looked as if he didn’t have any energy to breathe. It was just a few weak breaths, then a long pause, then breaths, pause. The pattern went non-stop. Chen Onn felt his pulse, it was nonexistent. I thought it would be like dying scenes in the movies. He would slowly and eventually breathe his last.
However, at 3.30pm, he started pinking up as he took more breaths.  Olwyn left us to take Deborah and Gabrielle to Dawn DeStigter’s house.  She brought Deborah to see Andrew and say her goodbyes before he died. By now, the blackness had turned gray.
I said, “Thank you God for sparing Deborah from seeing Andrew when he was black.”
Chen Onn put Andrew on the bed. At 4pm, I went to the Nurses’ Home to have a shower. I had stopped bleeding two weeks before, but the stress must have produced the hormones and I bled badly and stained my pants.
At 4.30pm, I came back to the parents’ room. Jenny Ferguson, the charge nurse was feeding Andrew. She had a towel round him because he was very, very wet all over. She said during the struggling, he must have sweated a lot. She asked if we wanted to take him back to Ward 11A. She didn’t think he was going to die now.
Chen Onn said Andrew woke up at 4.15pm making his hungry sound. Chen Onn went to Ward 11A, and the nurse came and said he was hungry. This sound was a peaceful sound, not like the highly distressing sound he made in the afternoon. Andrew had not been fed since 9 am in the morning. June Humphries had said that Andrew didn’t need his feed at 1pm as he had been sedated with chloral hydrate. If he needed it, he would ask for it. In his semi-comatose state, he did not make his sound for it.
When June Humphries had changed shift and handed over to Jenny Ferguson, she told Jenny that we all thought he was dying. Jenny was the charge nurse when we first came to Ward 11A. Seeing Jenny, I thought was it an omen: that Jenny was there at the beginning of this tragic saga, and she was there to complete the end of the cycle.
Andrew came back from his death bed to Ward 11A to claim back his title as the oldest swinger in town. They had stripped his cot. Fortunately, they hadn’t filled his cot. We waited for the nurse to make his bed while I held him. I reorganised his toys and books and photos with a heavy heart.
I decided to stay with Andrew. I told Chen Onn I had waited so long I didn’t want to go home and to have missed saying that last goodbye. 

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

A sad story

Tiny snowflakes are so vulnerable. A hand can give them love or squash and kill them. I am thinking of the poor baby.

A woman finds a baby abandoned in her garden. The baby was wrapped in a towel and was dead. How did the birth mother resort to such a tragic act. In this day and age, with family benefit, she could easily have gone to WINZ and got enough money for herself and her baby.

How sad it is for her to have gone through 9 months of pregnancy without anyone knowing and lovig her.

The couple who found the baby says if only she had left the baby at door, rang the door bell, the baby wouldn't have died.

How many Sands mums would "die" to have that baby?

When Andrew was dying in the hospital, some young girl did just that, and and left the baby somewhere where it was found. I wanted to adopt that baby.  But I was told I should, my love for that baby is liken to a rebound in a failed relationship.

Friday, September 7, 2012

It's ok to cry, when you have empty arms

Prunus campanulata is a species of cherry native to Taiwan, widely grown as an ornamental tree, and a symbol of Nago, Okinawa in the Ryukyu Islands of Japan. It is variously known in English as the Taiwan cherry,[3] Formosan cherry, or bellflower cherry.

I used to mistake this for the Sakura cherry tree. They lined on both sides of Balmoral road where I used to live before Andrew was born, and later when we came back to live after 16 years in Singapore.

In 1989, the word Campomelic came to my vocabulary. It was the syndrome that Andrew had and killed him. Campanulata makes me think of that word. The Campanulata cherry  blooms ahead of the Sakura, then very quickly the flowers drop and fade away. 

This is the time when the Campanulata cherry  blooms are most pretty. At the time, at Andrew's birthday,  Balmoral road would be one scarlet hue. Then on his death anniversary in November, the trees would be bare. Empty like my arms.

Next month would be  Baby Loss Awareness Week. I remember the interview I did for the Television documentary," It is ok to cry." Here I am, telling myself it is OK to cry.

The TV Program is available in New Zealand only.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Why Childhood Cancer Awareness?

My friend K posted this on her facebook. We became friends when she asked me what happened to my baby Andrew. I told her Andrew died. I never asked how she knew about me. We became friends and our mutual friend D told me that her daughter had cancer. Thankfully, her child is now in remission.

Now we have another mutual friend who is facing a worst case scenario. It is terrible.

I wrote in my book, "The worst kind of tragedy is for a parent to bury a child."

Some people don't want to hear about sadness. I want to "sing" about it, because the more people are aware to sad scenarios like this, the more awareness there will be and more funds will hopefully be channelled to it.

Childhood Cancer Awareness Infographic

Why Childhood Cancer Awareness? Because many don't understand the challenges that pediatric cancer researchers, doctors and patients are facing. Learn why this month matters, then share your knowledge with the world.

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