kasih ibu membawa ke syurga, kasih ayah tak terhingga
"It is often said that the most difficult journey we ever undertake is through the birth canal."
Indeed.
My labour week teaches me a lot about love, sacrifice and most importantly the miracles of Allah SWT's creations. My heart pounded each time my hand feels the huge mom's belly hardens indicating the incoming contractions, and she would bear the pain with beads of sweats on her forehead and the whole body trembling like mad for each mounting contractory pain. I know now why mothers have a special seat of honour and dignity in Islam, like the Prophet SAW said "Paradise lies at the feet of your mothers" (Al-Nisa'i, Ibn Majah, Ahmad).
Last night the last patient I was with before my 3-11pm shift ended was this 39 years-old lady who was about to have her first child. She was calmly lying on the bed as her epidural anaesthesia kicked in, and her partner came in not long after I was there. The CTG showed few decelerations and baby's heart rates fell down at times. The midwife was as alarmed as myself, but we maintained calm for the sake of the parents-to-be. We all knew the lady has had previous history of endometriosis, underwent myomectomy, significant gynae history in the family and couple more risk factors including her age. C-section's down the line, of course the couple looked frustrated. I had to leave as it was past 11pm already. I wished them very best of luck and said not to worry too much, of course I was being irrational when I said that.
I changed into my casual gear and dumped the scrubs, went down and called the taxi. There he was the daddy-to-be with his most worried look at the main hospital entrance, trying to get some fresh air I supposed. I stopped by, "Do you think she's gonna be fine?" he asked. I don't know myself to be honest. To say everything's OK would give false hope if things turned out different way, and vice versa. "U know C-sections wouldn't be too bad, if that's the best option for her in this situation," I tried to be modest. He was about to say something but choked, his eyes pooled with water. Again, I bade him the very best of luck and left, I can't bear the sad look on his face. Deep inside I prayed may Allah SWT make things easy for them.
I went home with my parents' faces in my thoughts. Before this I always realized how I used to be difficult as a child, but never have I asked how did I treat them when I was still in Mak's womb and how was I being delivered. I knew mum had to be transfered to the hospital when my home delivery failed. I could now put into pictures how hard it must be.
And it still amazes me how my parents treat me with a lot patience, despite all the hardships I've caused them. I could freshly recall Abah woke me up for school, going to the bathroom I found a basin of lukewarm water for my comfort bath, ye lah at the time when electrical shower was still unpopular, and later after I finished bathing there was my school uniform nicely ironed on the bed. Breakfast would be savoury homemade nasi lemak or any kind of food that came out from Mak's expert hands, and I would always be given bekal for recess time in school. All of that, times 5, for I have 4 other siblings in the family. I never knew what time did my parents wake up everyday, until I figured one day they were up praying tahajjud at 4.30am and never went to bed again till 12pm that night. And how cruel I was being when I threw tantrums each time mom said she's tired and couldn't go out to town in the evening after she got home from work.
"Ya Allah, Ya Tuhan kami, ampunilah segala dosa kesalahan kami dan dosa-dosa kesalahan ibu bapa kami, serta kasihanilah ibu bapa kami sebagaimana mereka mengasihani kami semasa masih kecil."
"And We have enjoined upon man to be good to his parents - His mother bears him in weakness upon weakness.." (31:14)
My labour week teaches me a lot about love, sacrifice and most importantly the miracles of Allah SWT's creations. My heart pounded each time my hand feels the huge mom's belly hardens indicating the incoming contractions, and she would bear the pain with beads of sweats on her forehead and the whole body trembling like mad for each mounting contractory pain. I know now why mothers have a special seat of honour and dignity in Islam, like the Prophet SAW said "Paradise lies at the feet of your mothers" (Al-Nisa'i, Ibn Majah, Ahmad).
Last night the last patient I was with before my 3-11pm shift ended was this 39 years-old lady who was about to have her first child. She was calmly lying on the bed as her epidural anaesthesia kicked in, and her partner came in not long after I was there. The CTG showed few decelerations and baby's heart rates fell down at times. The midwife was as alarmed as myself, but we maintained calm for the sake of the parents-to-be. We all knew the lady has had previous history of endometriosis, underwent myomectomy, significant gynae history in the family and couple more risk factors including her age. C-section's down the line, of course the couple looked frustrated. I had to leave as it was past 11pm already. I wished them very best of luck and said not to worry too much, of course I was being irrational when I said that.
I changed into my casual gear and dumped the scrubs, went down and called the taxi. There he was the daddy-to-be with his most worried look at the main hospital entrance, trying to get some fresh air I supposed. I stopped by, "Do you think she's gonna be fine?" he asked. I don't know myself to be honest. To say everything's OK would give false hope if things turned out different way, and vice versa. "U know C-sections wouldn't be too bad, if that's the best option for her in this situation," I tried to be modest. He was about to say something but choked, his eyes pooled with water. Again, I bade him the very best of luck and left, I can't bear the sad look on his face. Deep inside I prayed may Allah SWT make things easy for them.
I went home with my parents' faces in my thoughts. Before this I always realized how I used to be difficult as a child, but never have I asked how did I treat them when I was still in Mak's womb and how was I being delivered. I knew mum had to be transfered to the hospital when my home delivery failed. I could now put into pictures how hard it must be.
And it still amazes me how my parents treat me with a lot patience, despite all the hardships I've caused them. I could freshly recall Abah woke me up for school, going to the bathroom I found a basin of lukewarm water for my comfort bath, ye lah at the time when electrical shower was still unpopular, and later after I finished bathing there was my school uniform nicely ironed on the bed. Breakfast would be savoury homemade nasi lemak or any kind of food that came out from Mak's expert hands, and I would always be given bekal for recess time in school. All of that, times 5, for I have 4 other siblings in the family. I never knew what time did my parents wake up everyday, until I figured one day they were up praying tahajjud at 4.30am and never went to bed again till 12pm that night. And how cruel I was being when I threw tantrums each time mom said she's tired and couldn't go out to town in the evening after she got home from work.
"Ya Allah, Ya Tuhan kami, ampunilah segala dosa kesalahan kami dan dosa-dosa kesalahan ibu bapa kami, serta kasihanilah ibu bapa kami sebagaimana mereka mengasihani kami semasa masih kecil."
"And We have enjoined upon man to be good to his parents - His mother bears him in weakness upon weakness.." (31:14)
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