In our existence on this earth, there will be days we experience and wish for them to keep happening because of the excess joy loaded into that day. Those days, when we live past them, anytime we remember them, joy like rivers will fill our hearts. I have had many of those days, and I want to share one of that kind in this blog.
The day my mom gave birth to our last born.
I am among the last born in the house but not really the last. I'm the third, and when my immediate younger sibling was born, I didn't really know how everything played out. I was little then, so I only joined in the fun. But when our last born was born, I was already grown up and understood what was happening.
It happened that on the night of that particular day of the event, my mom, out of pain, screamed. We were in our room, but the scream was so loud that it woke us up. It was obvious she was due, but that didn’t happen on the day they had calculated, which was a few days away. That night, my mom was in pain and the pain was just obvious, which got us thinking that it wasn't labour that was bringing the pain.
My dad rode out on his bike that night around 3 a.m. We managed to carry my mom on the bike. She was struggling so hard with pain all over her body, but she made sure to cover her mouth so that the loud scream wouldn't come out and attract neighbours to gather. She got on the bike, my elder sister sat behind her, and my dad drove them to the general hospital.
That night, the fear of losing my mom enveloped me. All I was begging God for was to keep my mom alive, to the extent that I wished that even if it meant the child not surviving, let my mom be alive. That was my first time seeing a pregnant woman undergoing that severe pain, and even if they said that was the pain of labour calling her, I thought otherwise because the pain was too much on her.
When they got to the hospital, my sister kept us updated. When she told us that mom had been relieved via the medication administered to her, my mind was put to rest. Even at that point, I couldn’t ask if she had been taken to the labour room to have the baby.
In the morning, Dad came and announced to us that Mom had given birth to a bouncing baby girl. You needed to see the joy and jubilation in our house that morning. I was the happiest because my mom was alive and the baby was alive too.
That day was merriment in our house. It was louder than what we had when the second to the last born was born.
Up till today, anytime I remember the kind of fear I experienced that day, plus the result that came afterwards, my heart elevate joy with expression of smiles on my face.
Thanks!
