I believe Allah never missed a mother’s prayers. It’s only about time on when He will execute the plans.

When I was pregnant, I didn’t think much about how my daughter will look like, would she inherit my fair skin, is she going to be pretty, would she have thick dark hair, would she behaved throughout the confinement period, and would she grow up smart and active. To be honest, I hardly talked to my tummy or kept a diary of her development. I was a pregger whose focused at the first two trimesters was in juggling severe morning sickness, and a person who does anything she can to make things shelved at the very last trimester.

I didn’t feel special. And never asked or wished to be treated like one.

Things were tough all over and I was that one go-getter who took the problems on her own hands. I was however concerned as well as all mothers especially my close friends were preparing the world for their newborns while I said no to lots of early celebrations.

I refused baby shower. I hesitated to be featured in maternity shoot eventhough a friend was offering it for free. I did not want to look or stare at pictures of beautiful babies cause I want to be receptive of what she would look like. I rejected babymooning plans eventhough my husband insisted, cause I know though he felt it could make me happy, we both know that we could use the money for other important things in life.

We were terribly recking up in a huge debt back then because of some faulty paperwork and personal issues.

When I was entering my 36th week of pregnancy, my mother was admitted at HUKM after series of dizziness and learning that there were blood in her stool. She was immediately diagnosed with having several growing tumors in her colon, and the next day, CT scan proved that she might have cancer. Days later she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and it’s at a very dangerous state.

It would take months to wait for the queue for the operation to take out the tumour, so my sisters and I transferred her to the hospital private wing and arranged for the surgery the next day. We split the bills and chose an experienced surgeon to cut her open. I didn’t even remember I could pop out anytime. My mother needed us.

It was an unforgettable moment. We were preparing for an early goodbye and all we could hear in the room were cries and weeping sounds.

We waited outside the OT when mak was out a few hours. Nurses pushed her to her room and we were told that the tumour were all jumbled up that they could not get them out without risking her life.

We took turn to take care of her in the hospital. She was terribly weak post-surgery that we have to do everything for her, including sponging and toiletting. We slept on the floor of the hospital and I could feel my contraction coming stronger and stronger everyday. In short, I didn’t think much of any signs of early labour at that time. We were too busy giving back what our mother has given her whole life.

Mak spent her time recovering at our new house in Seremban. We were just starting over a new life in our newly completed house so we lacked a lot of things. I learned fast about patience and how to be grateful of so many things in life which we tend to take for granted. I learned to be a mother watching how my mother tempered with her children despite her sickness. We read the Quran everyday after prayer time and before going to bed. We discussed of the surahs and kept reminding each other of the good that will come out from the test. I know how much my mother wanted to be healthy to take care of me and my baby from the way she rubbed my tummy. While I complained of series of problem we had to go though to start a family, my mother said she would trade anything to get good health. She wanted to cook confinement meal for me. She wanted to be able to bathe my daughter and dressed her up. She wanted to be able to carry her and put her to sleep on her arms. There were so many things she wished she could do if she get her health back. It broke my heart. And I never complained a bit about anything to her ever since.

All I was doing was whispering to my baby to be patient – in any roles in her future undertakings.

“Jadilah manusia yang bersabar walau dalam keadaan yang paling susah. Sabar. Sabar dan sabarlah sayang.”

Alhamdulillah. It’s prolly too early to tell, but my Khayra has been wonderful since she was born. Of course there were tantrums here and there, but she has grown to be the most understanding person by my side all this while.

We had our hard times. I am the kind of person who might look strong on the outsides, but easily weep without company of other people. Khayra has watched me crying a lot of times eversince she was just days old and she immediately got teary eyes just watching me weeping. It’s occasions like seeing your mother walking slowly to the kitchen to get you a glass of plain water cause she’s afraid you might tear the stitches, is rather heart-breaking and send tears to your eyes, though she herself has a deep wound which would take months to recover.

I remember my mother’s word of advice to my daughter while touching and dancing her fingers on my tummy.

“you’ll be a good daughter and you will make things alright for mama”

thank you, mak. your prayers are answered. she’s really a little angel.


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