Today is 13th dhul-hijjah in the hijri calendar. And it is a day my son has waited to come for weeks. He has asked me like countless times what day it was and how many days left before it would be 13th dhul-hijjah. This is because he knew on this day, he would be a whopping 6 year old and he thought that would make him a really big boy and he would be able to tell his friends that he is no longer 5, 5 and a half but 6, maa sha Allah. The day however, holds very deeper memories for me and always have me holding back the tears, tears of joy and thankfulness each and every time I remember that day... I was pregnant with my second child, and we just had our eid party 2 days before. I had my first baby exactly 1week before my EDD and was already getting impatient when the second one was still chilling out in my womb a day before the EDD and I was all big and swollen. So when I woke up on the 12th dhul-hihhah of that year, with labour pains, I was really excited I was going to see the lil man in a few hours at last. This is because my first baby was born after about 8 hours of labour. So, with my previous experience, I knew it may take a few hours after the onset of labour before the baby would be born and did not want to be at the hospital for too long, I decided to spend some time cleaning my house and even took a walk before asking my Hb to take me to the hospital. We got there around noon and the pain was not yet bad at that time. I was checked by a doctor who said I should go back home because I was just 2 cm dilated and there was no point putting me on admission. I was reluctant to go back home because the hospital we chose was a 30 minute drive from where we lived then but I had to go. I spend the next few hours walking and taking a break when the contractions start, hoping this will help shorten he length of the labour. Around 10 in the evening, I felt the contractions were lasting longer and were fewer apart and I was getting weak because I could not make myself eat or drink anything, so I told The man to take mt back to the hospital. He did not think it was time yet and said we should wait a while longer because he did not want to have to take me back home a second time. Well, I insisted I had to go because I was really in pain and when he saw how serious I was, he picked up my 2 yr old and off we went to the hospital. By the time e got there, I could barely walk and I was so sure I would soon have my baby, but I was so wrong. I got checked again and was told I was still 2cm dilated and I have to go back home. I refused. I told the doctor I had a baby before and there has to be an explanation for this pain I was having and why would I not dilate more for many hours despite having close contraction that were painful. So, the doctor called on another doctor who is more experienced thnt her who examined me and found out there was a problem. I was quickly sent upstairs to the delivery room and it was on the way there that I heard a nurse telling another that I had abruptio placenta. They probably assumed I would not know what it meant. Thankfully, I am one who reads a lot and had read almost every book around about prregnancies and the complications that could occur before or during confinement that I was really scared when I heard that from the nurse. I started crying. The thought of losing my son after 9 months of difficulty; nausea, throwing up, heartburns to mention a few was just unbearable. I was making all the dua I know, beggeing Allah to save my baby. I was strapped to the fetal heart monitor and was given the oxygen mask and a nurse was left with me to monitor the baby and to call on the doctor in case she notice the baby was in distress so that I could be taken to the theatre for CS and all the while I was just weeping and praying and the fear of losing my baby masked all the pain such that I could not even remember labour pain any more. All I could think of was having a life, healthy baby. I was there for some hours and the labour did not progress until the doctor decided to break the water sac at around 3.00a.m. All that while, I could not even get in touch with my Hb who was sent home around midnight and was made to take my phone because I was not supposed to have any phone, money, jewelry or any other valuable with me... I eventually had the baby at 7.15 a.m, 26 hours after the onset of labour and I was so happy to hear his screams and found out he was perfectly ok, maa sha Allah tabaarakAllah and when I held him, I was filled with awe. The thought that just a small mistake could have made all the difference and the story would have had another end? Suppose I had agreed to return home when the young doctor checked me the second time, would I have had this cute 6 year old first grader today? I have a cold shiver just thinking of all the mums that have lost their babies because of a simple slip by the doctor, the nurse or even the mother herself. I really really thank my Lord for turning my tears into laughter and for blessing me with even more healthy loving kids after my dear sweet Ola was born six years ago. This is Ola's birth story. I would make out time to write the others' some day, as they all enjoy listening to their birth stories.
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