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Rated: 18+ · Non-fiction · Death · #915879
My personal experience of losing a child.
I looked at the screen through teary eyes, hoping to see the intermittent flash at a regular rhythm, though my mind told me otherwise. My heart sank and tears blurred my vision, finally trickling down my face. I turned towards my husband, who was sitting beside my hospital bed sharing my grief.

“I’m sorry.” The young resident looked at me sympathetically and turned off the machine. The nurse on duty followed her out, holding on to the wires of the ultrasound machine.

**********

“I have to put this IV on you. This is going to sting a little, dear. Now let’s find a good vein.” The nurse flashed me a smile and held my left arm, peering close to find a vein she could stick the needle into. I nodded, brushed away my tears with my other hand and looked away, having no desire to supervise a needle poking into my flesh.

My husband stroked my head lovingly, sitting in utter silence. Our hearts were entwined in grief and sadness that have engulfed us for the past week.

It was exactly a week ago that I came face to face with the reality that shook me to my core.

It was Wednesday, time for the second ultrasound. I was 24 weeks pregnant with my fourth child. The first ultrasound showed us the new addition to the family, though Dr. Greco remarked that it was pretty small.

"Hi Juli, how are you doing?" Dr Greco came in, flashing her professional smile.
"Good, thank you." I answered, returning her smile.
"So have you felt any movement?" she asked, her hands fiddling with the machine, setting it up for the ultrasound.
"No, not really, either I have too much fat or I was too busy." I answered nonchalantly, silently musing that I was too fat.
"You were probably too busy." she said as she pressed my belly.
"When was the last time you felt movement?" she enquired, face deep in thought.
"Probably last night, but I'm not sure if it was the baby or just gas." I said, still in a joking mood.
"Ok we'll see." she said as she started to scan my belly.

I was just relieved to be lying down after the hustle and bustle of getting to the doctor's office. The kids were gathered to my left, all excited to see the baby again. My husband peered at the monitor, trying to look at the baby.

It seemed to be quite a while that Dr. Greco was scanning my belly, and I started to look at the monitor. It was maybe a good five minutes when she turned to me, her expression solemn and grim.
"This is the heart cavity. I'm looking for a heartbeat but I can't see any." she turned the monitor towards me and pointed at a dark spot.

I peered at the monitor and my gaze lingered at the dark spot. During the last ultrasound, we saw the intermittent white flash that was the heartbeat. A dreading gloom enveloped me as my mind tried to make sense of what was happening.

"In the last ultrasound, the baby was pretty small for its gestational age and that's why I wanted you to have another one soon." she uttered. However she continued scanning and studying the monitor. I could see the backbone and the form of the baby. Still no white flash.

"Abi, why do you look angry?" asked Sakinah, our seven year old daughter.

"I'm trying to find the baby's heartbeat." replied my husband and I could feel his voice quivering. I kept my eyes on the monitor while trying to keep my emotions in check. Despite my effort, I felt a stinging sensation in my eyes as tears started to well, ready to trickle down my face in torrents.
My worst fears had been confirmed yet somehow I hoped against hope that Dr. Greco would turn to me and say everything was okay again.

"I'm sorry." Dr. Greco shook her head sadly and started to turn off the machine. My heart let out a silent wail of denial. No!! This couldn’t be happening to me!

Tears started welling up in my eyes and I could hold them in no longer when Dr Greco helped me up.

"Do you want your family to wait outside?" she asked and I shook my head, tears already flowing down my cheeks.

"Take your time and when you're ready we'll talk in my office." she said, as she prepared to leave the room. I nodded, unable to do anything else.

As soon as she shut the door behind her, I lost total control and collapsed into my husband's arms. Torrents of tears gushed out from both of us. We settled in each others arms, our bodies racking with uncontrollable sobs. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the children sitting quietly on the chairs, just staring at us, perplexed. As we cried our hearts out, I saw comprehension dawning on Sakinah’s face as she looked at us persistently.

**************

“Hi, I’m Dr. Crais. We will be inserting a pill in your vagina and that will help soften your cervix for delivery.” a young doctor whom I assumed was a resident, started to explain to me the procedure for my induction. I nodded throughout the whole explanation, anxiety and fear exhuming me.


“How long will this take?” I asked Debra, the nurse on duty, as she checked my blood pressure.
She hesitated for a while, eyes raised upwards, concentrated in quick calculations. She answered,”Well, it can take as long as a few hours to half a day. Your body’s not prepared for labor so it might take some time but then again you’ve had three children, so it might be quicker.”

I nodded. My question still went unanswered. Deep in my heart I knew there was no definite answer. My husband stroked my arm and for a while I was consoled. Looking out the window that spanned the whole length of the wall, I took solace in the blue sky, as if that would make my pleas matter more to God.

**************

The pain started coming at me in small doses, and brought me back to old memories of labor pains. I grimaced and groaned as the contractions came, small as they were. My husbands hands became my rope of support as I gripped them every time a contraction hit me.

Every four hours, doctors on shift came in to check my dilation and lodge the pill in my vagina. As my contractions increased, the insertion and checks became horrendously uncomfortable.

“Would you like to have an epidural?” Debra asked, eyeing me sympathetically.
I shook my head, grimacing in pain as yet another contraction overwhelmed me.
I was determined not to have any drugs in my system regardless of whether the baby was alive or not, for I have had enough side effects from a contraceptive I took to last me a lifetime.

**************

The view outside the window turned dark as the sun sank below the horizon, and I was still in labor. I implored for God to end my suffering and make the delivery happen but it still wasn’t time.

“Ohhh…. how long is this going to take?” I beseechingly asked my husband, whose eyes portrayed weariness due to the long wait. We had checked in at 6 am and now it was twelve hours past that.

I gripped his hands menaciously when contractions washed over me, as if by doing that, he could ease my pain.
“Remember your breathing..”he said soothingly as he swiped back my tendrils in a gentle caress.
I heeded him and started a breathing pattern of deep inhales and exhales.

*************

“Hi, how are you doing? I’m going to put in another pill, to make the contractions stronger. We’re going to do it every two hours now instead of four. “ a new face appeared at my door, apparently the next resident on shift.
“Can you wait until the contractions go away?” I pleaded imploringly as I writhed in pain for a good two minutes. She nodded in understanding and sat at the end of my bed, stroking my leg in a comforting gesture.

*************

The clock on the wall showed 7 pm, and I looked at my husband who was sitting on the rocking chair next to my bed. His eyes were shut, his breathing slow and steady. I grimaced and held on to the railings of my bed as another contraction swept over me.

************

“I feel like pushing!” I suddenly uttered as I felt a bearing pressure to push. Sandra, the new nurse on that shift was just about to leave the room. She turned back to look at me and said,”No, you’re not ready to push yet.”

“Yes! I am!!!” I almost screamed as I felt something making its way out my birth canal.
“Ohhh..something’s out! Something’s out!!” I frantically screamed as I felt warmth between my legs.
Sandra walked back to my bed, while my husband flicked back my blanket to see what I was talking about.
“Yes, something’s there!” my husband pointed and gestured for Sandra to come.
Ultimate grief mixed with anticipation, fear and relief, flooded through me and came out in a torrent of gushing tears and racking sobs. I felt myself go limp and channeled all my energy into crying for my lifeless baby. My husband, upon seeing me cry, broke into uncontrollable sobs himself, while trying to aid Sandra in prepping me up for delivery. He kissed my forehead, tears streaming down his face, and continuously stroked my arm in order to comfort me.
“It’s almost over.” he whispered to me, his voice quivering with grief and agony.

“Help her up. Help me with the bed!” cried out the nurses who flocked into my room, preparing for the unexpected delivery. Bustling around, they propped me up and cranked the knobs to turn the bed into one of the delivery paraphernalias.

“You need to push now, honey” said the nurse next to me, coaxing me to relax and get ready for the next stage.

“I don’t remember how to push!” I uttered frantically, breaking into another sob, feeling like a complete failure.

“OK Sandra, coach her.” Said the doctor standing at the foot of my bed, ready to do what she needed to do once the baby comes out.

“OK sweetie, take a deep breath and at the count of ten bear down hard. You can do this.” I felt reassured by her strong voice as she guided me through the pushing stage.

It seemed like ages that I was pushing with all my might, but there was no progress. I stoically pushed, willing any movement on the baby’s part, and all of a sudden, I felt a gushing, slippery sensation between my legs.

“It’s out! “ a voice exclaimed and I heaved a huge sigh of relief.

I turned to my husband. His eyes were filled with glistening tears that flowed down his face. Glistening tears turned into heart wrenching sobs as he held my hand and hung his head in anguish.

************

“Hi Juli, it’s a boy..” Her voice trailed off as I embraced the news with a mixture of joy and utter sadness. I had wanted another boy. I turned my gaze back at Dr. Greco who was now sitting next to my bed, having missed the whole delivery.
“..he seems normal, so we’re not going to have to do any tests. But it seemed that his cord was twisted. I have only seen this one other time in my fifteen years of practice. It was not tangled around his neck, but it was twisted like someone wringing a piece of cloth, that the flow of nutrients and oxygen was cut off. He had to have been moving around in such a way for that to happen. There was nothing we could have done, Juli.” Her explanation seeped into me as I slowly accepted the cause of my baby’s demise.

My heart leapt at the news that my baby was normal, for we had presumed the cause of death to be abnormality in chromosomes before the delivery. However, as I looked towards my husband, I saw his eyes glistening with tears that quickly fell in streams down his face and it struck me. The baby was normal! A mixture of relief and grief wrapped themselves around my heart as I struggled to swallow the fate I was faced with.

***********

“Do you want to see him?” my friend asked. She had kindly offered to help me with shrouding and cleaning the baby before the burial. She had arrived just after the baby was born and we had engaged in an embrace, enveloped in silence as the mutual sadness swept over us.

I nodded weakly and slowly propped myself up in a sitting position with my husband’s help. I was about to lay eyes on the baby I had sheltered in my womb for six months.

He’s beautiful! I thought as we looked at him. His whole body fit right in my palms and we took our time relishing the precious moment. His face was turned to the right, eyes closed, right hand next to his face, fist formed in a thumb sucking formation. He had been sucking his right thumb, I mused, as my gaze slowly turned to his limbs. His hand was as big as my nail, his skin brown and smooth and his genitals were already formed. Ten little fingers and ten tiny toes..perfect! I silently counted, lovingly sweeping my gaze across his lifeless body.

Our gaze gently swept over him, devouring his features, trying not to forget every little detail, so his memory would be photographed in our minds forever.

“So are we going to name him Julaybib then?” I turned towards my husband, confirming the name for our boy which we had decided that past week. He nodded, eyes still lingering on his son’s body and I returned my gaze to our precious son, wishing that the moment would never end. As I remembered a narration of our Prophet Muhammad(peace be upon him):

Al-Tirmidhi (942) narrated that Abu Sinaan said: I buried my son Sinaan and Abu Talhah al-Khoolaani was sitting at the graveside. When I wanted to go out he took my hand and said, “Shall I not give you some glad tidings, O Abu Sinaan?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “Al-Dahhaak ibn ‘Abd al-Rahmaan ibn ‘Arzab narrated to me from Abu Moosa al-Ash’ari that the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “When a person’s child dies, Allaah says to His angels, ‘You have taken the child of My slave.’ They say, ‘Yes.’ He says, ‘You have taken the apple of his eye.’ They say, ‘Yes.’ He says, ‘What did My slave say?’ They say, ‘He praised you and said “Innaa lillaahi wa inna ilayhi raaji’oon (Verily to Allaah we belong and unto Him is our return).’ Allaah says, ‘Build for My slave a house in Paradise and call it the house of praise.’”

(Classed as hasan by al-Albaani in al-Silsilah al-Saheehah, 1408)

my tears flowed endlessly, yet hope of a future reunion started to nestle deeply in the crevices of my grieving heart.May the memories of our little Julaybib be forever ingrained till the time comes when we will meet him again.
© Copyright 2004 Nadia inactive (mfjs76 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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