Losing my baby boy brought me crashing down. He had fought for his life for five hours. 960 grams, that’s what he weighed at birth. Slightly less than a kilo of sugar or a kilo of bar soap, or a kilo of meat. Whatever you would like to compare with.
My husband and I made a firm decision not to try to conceive again. Time is what we needed. Time to accept. Time to heal. Time to recover. Time to forget the trauma and drama of Matthew’s birthday.
Time heals many wounds, but child grief is a wound any parent carries to her grave. Though mothers seem to be the ones most affected, fathers too grieve. Society does not give much room for a man to express grief, especially here in Kenya of Africa. My husband was wounded, but there were not many listening ears inclined to him. He bore it like a soldier, balancing his weight and mine on his feet. I salute you my husband. Forgive me for neglecting you during that dark season. God sent us another baby when we least expected ( read wanted). I questioned God. ” So, why now God?” I would ask Him. ” Why do you torture me? How strong do you think I am? Why are you giving me hope, when You know very well you’ll take away again?”
With every trip to the toilet, I would wipe myself and inspect the tissue for blood spots. I knew ( or thought) it was only a matter of days and my bundle of hope would be gone.
Days turned to weeks, weeks to months. Everything was blurry. I did not give much attention to my pregnancy, until I was 12 weeks along. When it hit me that I was actually 12 weeks, love melted my heart. That rich attachment to my child happened. That great determination to protect and carry him/her safely to term filled me. Love. Maternal love.
Joy comes with the morning
I prayed everyday. I was thankful for each day that I completed with the baby in my womb. My friends pampered me. My husband motivated me. When labor came, I was 36 weeks pregnant. I got admitted at Kenyatta National Hospital (KNH), where I delivered a live baby boy. This time they did not take him to resuscitation room, they gave him to me. Tears of joy trickled down my cheeks as I held my healthy bundle of joy. I fell in love with him instantly. I took my phone and sent my husband a text message. ” Congratulations baba Nathan!” So when he called back, he was screaming in jubilation. You can imagine our joy when we were discharged and went home with our son! It was nothing short of a miracle.
Happy mother of three
Today, I am a blessed mother of three boys. I do not take them for granted, they are veeeeery precious gifts to us.My Alpha and Matthew are resting in peace, knowing that they can never be forgotten. I wrote a book in their memory, Empty Crib: Poems for Grieving Parents.
Salomary Simiyu is the author of the book Empty Crib:
You can find this book on amazon.com