Spotlight on Funke Raji (1)
A Story of Trial and Triumph (1)
Wake up! My spirit kept on saying, go do a urine pregnancy test. I had tens of the pregnancy test strips in one of the drawers in my dresser table. I was hesitant because I had been doing the same test everyday for two days and I was getting the same negative results. Even though we had just been married a few months, I was already worried that something was wrong with me.
I got up from the bed, of course Ola;
my husband was still snoring away. It was only 1.30am in the morning. I went
into the toilet and made use of the sticks. Lo and behold it was positive. I
couldn’t believe my eyes so I did another one. When I gave my husband the news,
he told me he already knew I was pregnant a long time ago and he got tired of
telling me because I didn’t believe him whenever he said so. We went to the
clinic the next day and the doctor confirmed that I was 9weeks along. We were
so happy; we even celebrated it with a bucket of blue bunny ice cream. That was
one of my most memorable nights. Ever!
We made plans on how we would
decorate a room for the baby. We talked about the possibility of going to the
US to have him/her. What would we name him/her? What would he/she look like?
How will I look like when I am very heavy?
We were so excited to see the little one. We called the baby Lil’Raj and
also attended most of the ante natal classes together.
Things went smoothly but slowly.
My sister even organized a surprise baby shower for me. I shopped tirelessly
and endlessly. I also got lots of gifts from friends and well wishers. I had
already known I was having a girl so each time I saw something pink, flowery
and cute, I would rush to get it.
Then came one day in the early
hours of the morning, say around 2am on the 7th of Dec, 2010, I had
the urge to pee so I went into the toilet, I got up to clean up and felt
another urge to pee again, this time the pee was so much but it felt good to
release the pressure from my bowels. At that time I knew my water had broken but
I couldn’t feel any pain. I took a shower, and lay down on my bed to pray. I
tried to call my husband who was still in Nigeria at the time but for some
reason, I couldn’t get through. I wanted him to be the first person to know
Lil’raj was on her way. The cramping came on slowly but bearable and I decided
no need to wake the house up if I could still handle the situation.
At the break of dawn, I alerted
the house and we parked the necessary things and rushed to the hospital. I
wasn’t feeling any serious pains. In fact I was wondering why women used to
exaggerate about labor pains. We got to the hospital and the doctor said he
would check the fetal heart beat while he asked me questions about how my water
broke. I noticed he was spending too much time finding the baby’s heartbeat, and
then he asked when it was I felt the baby move last. I told him I felt the baby
move while I was in the waiting room of the hospital. He decided that the
heartbeat monitor was broken and we should go for a quick ultra scan instead.
At that time I began to get worried, but I just shrugged any negative thoughts
in my head off and agreed with the doctor that the machine was indeed broken.
He took quite a long time with the scanning, few minutes later; he called on a
colleague to have a second look and opinion about what he could see from the
scan. They talked quietly for few seconds and then the other doctor left
leaving just me and my doctor again, then he said the words that broke my
heart, my soul, my whole being completely into pieces. He said “I’m sorry Funke
but the baby has passed”. What? How? When? How? What do you mean my baby has passed?
I felt bad but I was calm. Apparently the doctor had gone to tell my sister and
her husband because immediately they came into my room, they started crying. I
told the doctor to find a way to get the baby out of me. I was nauseous with
the thought of carrying a dead baby in my tummy. I got transferred to the labor
and delivery section and that was where the real horror began. The doctor had
advised against a CS but my labor was taking longer than necessary. It was
12noon already and all I felt was a little pain.
Dr Troy decided after 2more hours
of gentle labor and only 3cm dilated that it was time I got induced, few
minutes after the pills were administered and then labor pains started, it
progressed really slowly such that at 3pm, I was only just 6cm dilated. The
pains had progressed almost to an unbearable state, I was so tired and they
wouldn’t let me eat anything except ice cubes. Ola’s presence would have made
me feel better but he wasn’t there. At about 9pm, when I couldn’t take the
pains anymore, I asked for an epidural. That was another grievous mistake that
I made. The Anaesthiologist was an old
man who obviously didn’t have any nice thing to say. He told me to sit up and
sit still. Common, I have a baby’s head stuck in pelvic and it feels like
someone forgot pestle meant for pounding yam in my anus. I am in serious
horrible pains yet you expect me to sit still. Needless to say, the epidural
needle was stuck into my back twice before he got it right the third time and I
felt every pinch. I expected things to get better after the epidural but
apparently my horror had just begun because the epidural didn’t work. I heard
the Anaesthisiologist say on his way out of my room that he had given me enough
epidural to knock out a horse and couldn’t afford to give me any more.
At this time I broke down
completely, my whole body was on fire, my legs were clamped and I was so
tired. About 20minutes later, I started to crown and it was time for the real
work. I felt like I needed to push. I couldn’t hold it back, but with each
push, I felt my body parts tear. Usually during labor, both the mother and the
baby push to get the baby out, but in my case, I was the only one pushing.
Finally at about 12.05am of the next day, after about 12hours of huffing and
puffing and excreting some too, the baby finally came out.
How do I put this? She was very
beautiful, small in size, weighed in about 5.25inches and she had a head full
of hair. She was so pretty I totally forgot I had a third degree tear that needed
to be stitched. I carried her in my arms and that was when it hit me CLEAR. She
wasn’t opening her eyes, she wasn’t moving, she didn’t even cry, not even a
little sound, not even a little twitch. She never opened her eyes. She said her
goodbyes long before we could say hello. I cried my heart out. I checked all
over her body maybe I would see what went wrong but she was perfect, everything
was complete. So what happened? What went wrong? When did this happen? The
doctor must have read my thoughts because she replied ‘From the look of the
baby, its sure she passed more than 12hours ago” So I had been carrying a dead
baby in my womb and I did not know! I couldn’t tell! What have I done to my
baby? I couldn’t get my mind off the pain and suffering she must have gone through
at the time she was dying, trying very hard to survive and what exactly was I
doing? Sleeping? Watching TV? Facebooking? I didn’t know. I didn’t feel a thing. I
couldn’t tell she wasn’t moving anymore.
My husband was given the tragic
news and he came to meet me at the hospital the next day. We asked the doctor
if they had found anything that would have caused the baby to pass and she said
they had done all the possible tests and everything came out fine and that she
was confused as to what happened to the baby. So she called it ‘An act of God”,
“A bad lottery”. I think the most unforgettable thing was when I was discharged
from the hospital and I was leaving the building empty handed. I came in with a
big tummy and I am leaving with nothing. I broke down in the middle of the
hallway and told my husband I couldn’t leave, I said our baby is in a freezer
in this hospital and she is cold. They are going to bury her in an unmarked
grave somewhere and I can’t let that happen. I felt incomplete, something was
missing and that thing was my baby. She is still in this hospital and I am not
going home with her?
For so many days after wards I
couldn’t stop crying. It was even worse whenever I saw a baby. I couldn’t eat,
smile or talk to people, I wasn’t even picking my calls. Nothing made sense to
me anymore. My milk was flowing but there was no baby to suck it. I would wake
up every night crying. And then people started to tell me lots of crap. One
even told me that God just wanted me to have a taste of childbirth so that I
can be fully prepared when my real baby comes. Another one said, that wasn’t
your baby, your baby will come soon.
When something like this happens,
you never really heal completely. Time makes the pain a little more bearable as
it goes but you never ever forget. I cannot begin to say just how much God
loves me for giving me my husband; he was such a great support throughout this
trying period. He stood by me and comforted me. He made plans for my sister to
come back home with us so I am not alone when he is at work. I also got myself registered in a one year
post graduate programme. And then the waiting started... click to continue reading
Written by Funke Raji
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Hmm wat can I say,dis is so sad,am really hurt by dis story. Thank Jesus for wiping away ur tears.
ReplyDeleteI can imagine cos I remember childbirth its a terrible experience,the only Joy is seeing ur baby afterwards
Words failed me.
ReplyDeleteI can't wait for part two.
So sad but thank God for hope. I am waiting for Part 2.
ReplyDeleteThumps up Funke and thanks for sharing your story.
Thank you so much for your prayers.
ReplyDelete