9 March 2015: An extract from my ‘baby journal’
“Indeed with difficulty comes ease. So Allah says in the quran. I’m sitting in Ward 7 on the first level of Mowbray Maternity Hospital. I must say, this was not the way I wanted to end up at Mowbray. In fact, I was content with giving birth at Retreat, but Allah works in mysterious ways… Baby and I are laying in wait now, waiting for tomorrow morning to come. We’re supposed to be induced, but I’m hoping that Allah will choose the natural labour process for me. I’m mulling over the ‘what-ifs’ in my mind, but what if never made a difference before and it isn’t of the characteristics of a believer. I should know better. And yet…, I found myself asking the question anyway. I’m afraid of what lay ahead. Will my baby be delivered via natural birth? With or without induction? And what about a c-section? I’d always imagined I’d have normal birth with no complications, and I hope that’s still the case. I want to experience labour pains so badly, just so that I won’t be induced. But Allah knows best.
The human being in me worries about my baby and what will happen should things not go the way I want it to. The Muslim in me is content knowing that it is all to happen with the decree of Allah. And yet, these two parts of me are conflicted. I lay here in this hospital bed, content with Allah’s decision for me (or rather, what it seems He has in store for me). But when I think of all the possibilities I become fearful once more. Yet I know He is Al-Wahhab (The Bestower), Al-Wadud (The Most Loving), and Ar-Rahman (The Most Merciful). I know He will grant me whatever is best for me.
He is Allah, my Lord. The One Who loves me more than what my husband, parents and children ever could. I take comfort in the fact that my Allah only does what’s best for me.”
Now, ten months on, I see the beauty in my Lord’s plan for me. I knew my Lord had my best interests at heart, but fear of the unknown had me feeling funny things. I’d messaged many people since being admitted and would become somewhat despondent every time someone replied with “May Allah grant whatever is best for you”. I’d particularly asked that they pray for a natural birth, without epidural,(though I could live with it if it ever came to that), but natural birth it had to be. I refused to even consider a c-section, and would thus become disheartened by their response. I figured, the more people prayed for natural, the more likely that prayer was to be accepted. But, as is the nature of my qurbi’s (close friends), their response was always “May Allah grant whatever is best for you”. We were induced the next morning, and when my little one went into distress some hours later, we had no choice but to give birth via c-section.
My Allah had chosen, in that moment, to have a muslim male doctor drop the bomb on me, and though I’d seen it coming, I burst into tears. He tried to console me by gently reminding me that we had to go this route for my baby’s well-being, and though the message hit home, I couldn’t stop the tears. He then talked me through the surgery procedure, and seeing how distraught I was, he left me with one final message: “I’ll make du’a for you”. Words cannot describe how much such a simple statement meant to me, and I pray Allah always showers His mercy and pleasure upon this doctor and his family.
As I look back on those precious moments before my little girl was born, I can only give thanks to my Rabb (Lord, Nourisher, Sustainer) for the great birthing experience He’d afforded me. And even more so, I thank Him for bringing my beautiful little girl into this world via c-section. Had things gone my way, as I’d so fervently prayed, my daughter would have been born via a dry natural birth, without epidural. And my Lord Alone knows how that would have affected her delicate skin.
Via natural birth, my little butterfly could’ve been born without patches of skin, and I would’ve never known the joys of holding something so fresh from God, I’d have been grey with worry, fearing the unknown, as she lay in the incubator slowly gaining her strength so that she could be brought to me. The condition is so rare, that even doctors would probably have been unfamiliar with it and could thus have misdiagnosed it, thereby causing us unnecessary worry. I’d probably not have eaten that entire evening, and would thus have been too exhausted to even look her in the eyes as I fed her for the first time.
Via c-section, my Lord gifted me with the opportunity of easing into motherhood before dropping the weight and responsibility of EB on me. He allowed my husband and I some time to bond with our baby before having to worry about her every wakeful breath. A c-section might not have been what we wanted, but it was exactly what we needed. Epidermolysis Bullosa may not be my most loved thing in this world, but it was exactly what we, as a family, needed to improve our relationship with God. And thus I am reminded of a verse wherein He says “It may be that you dislike something and it is good for you, and perhaps you may love something and it is bad for you. Allah knows, whilst you do not know”.
Verily Allah has spoken the truth.
