It had been almost two months since the day I gave birth to our beloved daughter, Zulaykha.
I still remember the day she was born, it was raining outside and few hours before she was born, I heard doctor and nurses were welcoming a baby. It was around 5 a.m.. I was so thirsty that the doctor did not allow me to drink some water, of course, for some medical reason. I was wondering and got extremely exhausted that I optioned to sleep and decided to give up.
Vaginal examination (VE)? Contraction? Prostin Gel Induction? Induce On Labor (IOL)? Cardiotocography (CTG)? Geez...those lists never ended. For the first time I had been exposed with those terms and practically learned about them.
This is what I call a once in a lifetime experience. They did not teach us on childbirth during high school or in college, they did not tell us the pain suffered during childbirth. All that we were being taught were achieving our academic goals and finding a better job for our promising future.
Childbirth.
I never thought of being part of it.
I never thought that I would hold a small little creature in my arms.
I never thought about watching a child suckling for milk in order to survive.
I never thought that one day, I would hold a baby and talk to her.
Being pregnant was like magic.
Giving birth was miracle. It was beautiful.
It was painful and yet, it was the most wonderful things that ever happened to me.
Every morning, I woke up and saw that innocence face.
That round innocence eyes, looking at me without judging who I was.
Praise to Allah, she was so precious that I could burst into tears while listening to her mumbling each morning.
This is the price for being a mom - priceless! ❤
Alhamdulillah.
We were blessed with a cute little baby girl. I still remember the day when I read those experiences shared by mothers across the world, they always remind me that they were giving birth to the next caliph in this world. I feel guilty. Guilty for not naming our precious little angel with a good Muslim name. It was not about popularity, it was all about helping her to survive in this world.
I am still imagine her life without me.
May Allah protect you, my little angel.
...
It was awkward when the nurses asked me to hold her for the first time. I did refused to hold her because I was afraid of blood. It was quite funny when I saw the doctor held her just few inches from my body. They took her on my chest and she started to calm down. She cried a little bit. Her body felt so warm. I was still thinking - was it for real?
I fell asleep. I was so tired. Stitches, blood, not to mention that I had suddenly peed on the floor as soon as I had arrived at my bed. I was so helpless and weak.
The blood wouldn't stop, I felt restless. Just when I had decided to change her diaper, I saw blood stain on my bed. The nurse told me to change her diaper first. Extremely challenging!
I cried for days thinking that my life was over.
My heart was broken when I saw my tummy hanging like a melted pudding.
My breasts both were in pain and it was so hard for me to sit comfortably.
I even asked him to find another woman to marry him.
We fought so hard that we forgot who we were.
It's called, Postpartum Depression.
Couple nights I was snoring without my baby besides me. She was warded for two days suffering from jaundice. I did cried missing her innocence eyes, tiny little nose, latching perfectly after the forth times I taught her to latch, she was a wonderful gift I ever received.
...and now, she's talking to me. Smiling and grunting like I can understand her baby voices.
It's going to be the hardest goodbye, for both of us.
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Lots of love,
ummi.