Slightly more than 48 hours since arriving at Mater Hospital, and exactly 48 hours since my sister has been admitted, and so much has happened already.
She has lost the baby!
I know earlier on I had told some of you guys that both the mother and the baby were okay, which was the case, or at least going by what the nurse who had performed that scan had told us, but now I’m here telling you that the baby didn’t make it. And only God knows how hard that is, and I’ve contemplated it.
Anyway, we are here now, and I’m not even sure of what I’m feeling; sadness, happiness, or both. It’s not normal, right?
I know like my sister, I should be feeling sad, which l am, but not entirely. I’m glad that she lived! I love my sister, and I’m glad she survived, and I know she will survive this painful experience! She’s a strong woman, been here before and got through it.
Spend almost the whole day trying to dodge calls from friends and relatives asking how she’s doing — why don’t they just make time and go to the hospital and see for themselves how she’s doing. Had been a rough day and was just tired — or maybe I just didn’t know what to tell them — of explaining her situation. Each time it brought tears to my eyes. But there’s one I couldn’t avoid. Hers.
I know you are surprised, I was too, but I remember telling you that she’s a strong woman. As strong as our own mother. Can you imagine I was scared of picking up that call! I must I admit, consoling people has never been the easiest of jobs I’ve had to do. I stared at the phone for a few seconds before finally picking it up — of course I knew I had to. And that was the toughest call I’ve ever received!
The first thing that caught my ears from the other side was her sobbing from the other end. She was talking amid sobs, I could hardly hear what she was saying.
“I’ve lost my baby! The doctors said that… Said that it would have killed me if they hadn’t done it!”
I wanted to cry with her but new I had to act strong throughout the call for her, and I should say I did alright in trying to console her because she calmed down eventually and even agreed when I said I will call on her the first thing the next morning. But it was before Steve, my college mate called to remind me about the next day’s 10 AM CAT. But immediately I’m done, I’m headed there to spend the rest of the day with her. Unfortunately that’s all I can do for her. Thank God got some few friends promising to come with me.
I hope she will be alright! And maybe it’s not yet God’s time, if at all there’s any such thing.
Everyone has been affected and every side you turn, you are met with folks in somber moods. Blames being thrown around; some just finding it more convenient to blame God, some the devil, and others like me blamed the doctors — I’m also human, wasn’t exempted — for taking that long to attend to my sister. Why did they keep telling us that they’ve seen her file and she is not under risk, hence the doctor will see her later, only leaving her under the care of nurses. Isn’t there any slight chance that the baby could’ve been saved if the doctor had attended to her during those early hours that we got to the hospital?
It was an emergency, did her gynecologist have to wait till sunrise to check on her? Couldn’t he lose a few hours of sleep?
Anyway it doesn’t matter now. All we are left with now is a grieved mother and husband, and not forgetting a scary bill to be paid.
Wish you should see my brother-in-law! Never seen him that beaten. He’s a strong man who has survived places I wouldn’t even dare think of going to — Iraq and recently Somalia, just to name a few — and here he was crying while receing a call from his pops. It was kinda embarrassing to see (to me) I must say, and an emotional letdown that brought tears to my own eyes, again.
This has to be the most painful post I’ve ever written and hopefully it will be the last.