My second pregnancy

So I am back writing again after like what? Two years? The last entry was about my pregnancy. But let me tell you my friend that that was a very long time ago.

I think it was a year after my missed miscarriage that I finally got pregnant again, for the second time. But it was not a smooth journey I’m telling you.

I have a son now. Oh boy he has grown up so fast. He is 8 this year. Studying in Year 3. But getting him into this world was a daunting task.

During the first trimester, I had a couple episodes of bleeding. Yes, bleeding while pregnant. I thought it would be another miscarriage but it was a mistake to think that way. Both my baby and I pulled through. Then I was asked to do the GTT quite early and it turned out that my sugar was quite high and nope, I did not have diabetes back then, so I was referred to see a dietician. Then, during the second trimester, I had bleeding again, was asked to rest… and I remember, our late Deputy Principal Academic was so concern about my health and pregnancy that she allowed me to have my lessons in the reading room on the ground floor, so that I did not have to climb the stairs to go to all my classes. In my third trimester, I was hospitalized I think, a month before I delivered my son. I got insulin injections twice per day while being hospitalized and I was given another jab to make sure that my baby would grow to the right weight in case if I delivered him early (I remember he was underweight or small because I had to diet because of my sugar level). I just cannot recall now the name of the jab.

When it was time, I was in the labour room for more than 8 hours, if I’m not mistaken. Got in like in the evening but I delivered my boy probably around 3 ish in the morning. He had tachycardia because I had a slight fever so the nurses needed to monitor me, and made sure that I was OK before I could finally push him out. I was not allowed to push him until his heartbeat was normal.

I could not express in words how the experience was. All I could remember was that I was in real pain. I did not know how much I wanted the excruciating pain and agony to end. I did not remember how many times I had to push but when he was out, I suddenly felt a great relief but numb at the same time. It was weird not to hear the cry of my baby. Well, I expected that you see… because that was the scene I normally saw on any drama series or movies aired on TV. Instead my baby was very quiet. The nurses and the doctor were not concerned about the silence. When my boy was handed to me, at first I was scared. He was so small and fragile and I was not ready to hold him because I was not confident enough to hold him. But the nurse without waiting for my approval, she just laid my son on my hands and it was at that moment that I graduated as a Mother. It was as if I just realised that I did not need to practice to hold this sweet little creature. I cuddled him like a pro. It was natural.

I looked at that small face of his. So tranquil in his sleep. Yes, my son was sleeping. Apparently I was given something before I delivered him. It was not epidural but something else. It made me rest and sleep but woke me up every time I had contractions. I just don’t remember the name. But the effect of that medicine made my son sleep. So, he did not wake up until the second time or the third time I think the nurses came to check on us. The nurses actually woke him up so he could be breastfed.

Oh I will not skip the part when I got the stitches. The stitches though… is the best part of the story. Ho Ho.. my.. I certainly did not know how long the episiotomy cut was but one thing for sure – I do not and can never forget the procedure – the sound of it! I could not see how the nurse did it but the sound of the dissolvable stitches being done, going through my cut (I assumed it was just a cut, not cuts).

And I think that was the end of the pain… I was wrong. The dissolvable stitches did not dissolve after weeks and after some time, I could feel there was a slight bump on my cut so I decided to go to a private clinic for a check up. Guess what! I got an infection and the doctor told me the stitches should have come off on their own at most two weeks after delivery. The doctor had to cut open the stitches for me. I was not sedated. Imagine the pain people. Imagine the pain that I had to endure. After the procedure, I was given some antibiotics and ointment to apply on the infected wound.

So, my pregnancy was not easy but then, every time when I see and look at my son, the pain was worth it. I keep on telling myself, I faced a lot of hurdles during my pregnancy, labour and even after birth, but who knows all these things only mean one thing – that one day my son will be the one who will take me to Jannah.

That is my hope and pray. May Allah grant my wish. Aamiin.