“Bismillahir rahmaanir raheem”
-in the name of Allah, The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful-
And that’s how the rest of my day went…. Swearing and cursing ismail in my head.. Because that’s as far as I could get to swearing him, I still wasn’t brave enough to utter profanities against him to his face..
He knew how I felt but still felt like we should wait till tomorrow as we already were booked for early tomorrow morning…
Ismail: “nothing can happen till tomorrow morning.. You lasted for 9 months.. What’s another couple of hours… You’re just being impatient…”
So I had patience…. I kept on popping panados and sleeping whenever I could so that I didn’t have to feel the pain…
Dadi checked on me every now and then and assured me that the kids were fine, they are taking care of them…. For once I didn’t feel bad, I just allowed them to take over…
Its times like this I wish I had a mother.. Even though dadi is still there, she’s old and its different..
I know mummy would have been the greatest support ever in times like this… She would make sure I got the best attention 24/7 and she would’ve showered me with all the love and compassion I crave for right now..
I don’t even have inlaws who are supportive enough… Actually they’re not supportive at all..
Enough of feeling sorry for myself.. No use brooding about what I don’t have and what could have or should have been… All I know is that my deepest desire is to shower my kids with all the love and attention they deserve for as long as I’m alive… And inshallah my daughter will never have to experience being alone in her entire life… I’ll make sure of that..
After much perseverance, I pulled through the day and most of the night..
As I rose early for fajr and had a good shower, I prayed to Allah a little longer than usual.. Praying of surah yaaseen seemed to have settled the butterflies that were lurking around in the pit of my hungry tummy and I felt myself being wiped over with ease, peace and tranquility…
Even though the pains hadn’t eased in the least, I felt relieved to know that in just a short few hours, all would be over and my little one will finally be in my arms…
I really will miss being pregnant… Its such an incredible experience.. The bond that I spent with my little one, no-one will be able to feel… Not even ismail… Ismail is yet to bond with the baby, while I already feel so attached..
I greeted my extra enthusiastic kids after they performed their fajr salaah and jumped back into their beds before it was time to get ready for school and I gave them a quick lecture on how to behave and not cause any havoc while I’m away… To look after eachother and ismail and to make things easier for dadi and dada…
Once all the formalities were done downstairs at reception, I was escorted to my room where I was made to change into those awful blue and white hospital gowns…
Shukr alhamdulillah, most of the rooms in maternity section are private wards, which means that I was alone in my room and didn’t have to share a room with any other different moaning women…
And thank goodness these gowns were not one of those that were open at the back revealing half your buttocks and a whole lot more..
My scarf was something I wouldn’t part with… I made my intention that atleast my hair should be covered when I go into theatre…I actually felt naked having my arms open in public after such a long time of being covered up in my cloak most of the time..
A friendly looking white nurse who looked like she had just graduated from med school entered the room…
She asked me a few routine questions when I winced in pain…
Nurse: “are you okay dear?”
She gazed up at me from her the paperwork she was filling in..
Me: “I’ll be fine…”
I sighed heavily as the pain eased out..
” I’ve just been getting terrible pains for the past 2 days….”
She dropped her pen and hurried out of the room mumbling..
“I’m calling in another nurse to check your contractions… I won’t be long..”
Not long after, she returned quite hastily with another coloured looking nurse who dragged in some sophisticated machine…
Nurse 2: “hello lady… My name is sister elizabeth.. I’m just going to check your contractions for you.. Its just a little belt here that I’m going to place around your tummy.. Its not going to hurt you at all and then I’m going to put on your drip for you and prepare you for theatre okay?”
She had a thick cape townian accent which I always just love listening to…
I nodded with a perplexed half smile..
“But I’m not sure if they’re contractions… They’re quite severe but the baby could probably just be moving around awkwardly…”
Sister elizabeth: “since when have you been experiencing this pain lady?”
She asked while tying the belt around my stomach and activating the machine beside us..
Me: “eh… Wednesday evening I think…”
She was silent for a while, I assume monitoring my contractions when suddenly her mouth fell agape…
“oh my word lady! How in heavens name are you surviving these pains? Your contractions are so strong already.. And you say you’ve stuck it since wednesday??”