"I DID IVF 12 times!" My eyes widened in surprise at the admission, but Vatsala Nair Manoharan, founder of Belly Memoirs, merely chuckles softly. Ahh, it's all starting to make sense now.
It's a lovely afternoon and I'm seated opposite her in her home studio in Seri Kembangan, Selangor, surrounded by belly casting supplies and craft. Belly Memoirs provides bespoke belly-casting services for women who want to commission three-dimensional plaster sculptures of their pregnant abdomen as keepsake of their pregnancy.
Born in Teluk Intan, her parents' hometown, Vatsala was there for the first two years of her life before her family decided to uproot and move to Subang Jaya, Selangor. Vatsala, who has two younger brothers, had always wanted to study medicine, but in the end, she opted to pursue biomedical science at a private university in Shah Alam.
"I wasn't exactly a high achiever," confides the 37-year-old, tone regretful, before adding: "After graduating, I got a job in a clinical research centre in a government hospital. I was doing chronic disease management in epistemological studies."
Two years later, Vatsala landed a job as a clinical trial associate. It was during her one-year stint here that she got married — she was 24. "My last job was with Pfizer," she shares, beaming proudly, adding: "It was very high-flying, career-wise. I was travelling a lot. [But] now I wanted to start a family. I couldn't be travelling if I wanted to do this."
It was also stressful, she adds, because it involved clinical trials. There was no room for mistakes. "I needed that space for myself," she muses, voice low. Sometime in 2010, she made the decision to resign from her job.
CHALLENGING TIMES
But starting a family of her own didn't happen right away.
"I had two miscarriages," she confides, voice dipping, before elaborating: "From 2010 until 2016, before my boys were finally born, I conceived, then suffered a miscarriage. I waited for a few months before trying again. That was the cycle."
Her voice trails off as she shares about the in vitro fertilisation (IVF) procedures that she underwent. "I quit my job. I moved from working in the lab to making babies in the lab!" she exclaims, chuckling good-naturedly.
A pause, and she suddenly looks sombre as she continues: "When I conceived my sons, it was a high-risk pregnancy because they were twins. It was a gamble. I just said to myself, 'Do whatever lah'. I was just determined to try everything and then I'd be done."
Her eyes lighting up excitedly, Vatsala suddenly turns to me and asks: "Do you believe in superstition?" I look at her bewilderedly. She smiles before continuing with her story: "Two months before the twins were conceived, my in-laws passed away. I was supposed to go for treatment that night. They passed away in an accident at the same time. My last conversation with them was about me going for treatment in India and they reassured me not to worry. They said I'd get pregnant."
The treatment was put on hold for the funeral. I ask Vatsala if she managed to head to India in the end. She nods, before sharing that she left for the country two months later to continue her treatment. And that was when she conceived her twins. "My second twin's due date was on my late father-in-law's birthday," she adds.
MOULDED FOR POSTERITY
Casting my gaze around her studio, I can't help marvelling at the many beautiful gleaming belly casts arranged in different corners of the space. Is it hard to make, I ask Vatsala. She nods in response, before replying: "It does come with its own set of challenges. They're fragile, so if any part of it breaks, then I have to redo that entire part (that's damaged). I'd need to scrape off the layer and redo it to ensure that there's a smooth finish. I also have to keep it safe because it's precious."
Chuckling softly, she admits that her biomedical degree has come in handy, especially when she assesses her clients before starting work. "I'll ask my pregnant clients how advanced their pregnancy is or whether they're bleeding. Then I'll touch their belly to see where the head and legs are. I need to check whether it's safe for them to do belly casting."
Continuing, Vatsala shares: "If they have a history of contractions or bleeding, I wouldn't encourage them to go through the process. I've also had people asking me to do casting for babies, but there are already people doing this in Malaysia. I could do this as an add-on service, but my main business is belly casting."
Suddenly, our chat is interrupted by the arrival of one of her twin sons, who pops in to ask his mother about an open window. He scampers off when she tells him that she will tend to it. The studio is located on the first floor.
Sheepishly, Vatsala turns to me and explains: "This is why I do my work in here when they're sleeping. I keep the door locked at all times because I don't want my children falling out through the window. I also do my work downstairs and have my things there too. I'm basically all over the house lah!"
Her son returns again, this time telling his mother that he's just had a drink. She gently chides him for disturbing her while she's talking to "auntie" (a reference to me, unfortunately). "Auntie is the police!" she tells him and I see him stiffening.
As he scrutinises me with his bright, discerning eyes, I try my hardest to maintain a stern expression despite struggling to hold back laughter. A cheeky smile suddenly breaks across his face and he exclaims: "Auntie, you're bluffing!" Throwing me another look, he then scampers off once again down the stairs. "They can get very chatty," says Vatsala, her pride and love evident.
PREGNANCY IS PRECIOUS
Realising that she has somehow veered off course from our original topic, Vatsala resumes her story. "Throughout those six years, the focus was on making babies in the lab and taking care of myself. I didn't do anything (else) during that time. My life was put on pause, I'd say. I underwent several rounds of IVF in the hopes of conceiving."
Having undergone cervical cerclage, a surgical procedure performed during pregnancy to place a stitch around the neck of the womb (cervix) to reduce the risk of an early birth, she was totally on bed rest, unable to do any housework or travel at all.
But it was worth it, says Vatsala happily, because she finally gave birth to her twin boys on April 11, 2016.
"And that's why pregnancy is precious for me," she says, simply. Continuing, Vatsala shares that she'd seen a woman doing belly casting on Facebook using mirror mosaics. "I thought it was so beautiful and I actually suggested to my friend to get something like that done. But at the time, no one in Malaysia was doing belly casting. So, I decided to try it out myself," she elaborates.
Then, turning to some of the belly sculptures on display, Vatsala proceeds to show me a sample of a twin bell. "You see that? That is a belly bowl," she says, pointing to something that resembles an irregular-shaped bowl perched on a four-legged stand. Pointing to another sculpture, she adds: "And that's a full torso."
BELLY MEMOIRS
"I'd been trying to conceive for so long and that's why that one moment in my life is the best moment. I wanted to capture that," exclaims Vatsala, voice soft. Adding, she says that although you can just look at photos, belly casting helps to capture precious moments though a 3D keepsake.
"It's capturing the belly exactly the way it is during the pregnancy," she reasons, adding: "I thought it gave me so much value and I wanted to give the same to others going through the (same) journey. For mothers, the first pregnancy is the most beautiful."
And therein lies the inspiration behind Belly Memoirs.
However, much to my confusion, she goes on to tell me that the reason behind why she founded Belly Memoirs is completely different. "My reason for starting Belly Memoirs is tied to the social enterprise that I started called Mums' Village. Belly casting was a way for me to sustain that social enterprise."
Elaborating, she shares: "If I were to depend on Mums' Village for an income, I wouldn't be able to draw a salary for myself at all. It was a start-up, with plenty of trials and pivoting going on at the time. It started as a co-working space, but it wasn't working out. Then we switched to training. Now we're equally focused on training and trading. That's how we're balancing that."
Rising from her seat suddenly, Vatsala offers to take me on a tour of her house. I nod enthusiastically, eager to see for myself the rest of her work. From the studio on the first floor, we make our way down to the ground floor. I note that just near the living room, there's a space that has been sectioned off for her artwork.
We continue making our way towards the back of the house, passing the kitchen, the area where the belly casts are laid out to dry. "I told you I'm all over the place!" exclaims Vatsala, before adding: "I have clients coming to my house to do the casting and the mould. Each one is different and you don't know what to expect with each belly."
Her passion for her craft is unmistakable. Vatsala doesn't only stop at creating simple belly casts; if clients want to add more details, she happily acquiesces. "Sometimes, the women start off commissioning just a simple cast, but as time goes by, they ask for more. Before they know it, they end up with an elaborate belly cast — a far cry from what they thought they'd get!"
As we make our way back to where we started, in part because it's already time for me to take my leave, I ask the affable mother-of-two what satisfaction she derives from doing what she does. Her smile is serene when she eventually replies: "I consider myself privileged. I believe if you have (something good going for you), you should share with others. This (belly casting) not only gives happiness to others, but I also share in the joy."
Belly Memoirs
Jalan PP25, Taman Pinggiran Putra, Seri Kembangan, Selangor.
Tel: 012-675 0072
