Past that Pain

Christine Kamau walked Rebecca Njoki through her two early motherhood experiences. One-very depressing. Another-a positive challenge.

I was six months pregnant in 2006 when I felt some fluid gush down my thighs. Since it was my first pregnancy,I did not know that something was wrong. I thought it was normal for pregnant women to be wet. I did not have anyone to consult since my parents and my parents-in-law reside abroad.

When the flow persisted, I went to a nursing home where I was told the membrane holding the amniotic fluid had ruptured.
The doctor, therefore, recommended bed rest and to ensure that I truly rested, he had me admitted to hospital. One month later, the amniotic fluid was still having its way out.

My husband and I sought a private gynaecologist for another opinion. The gynae assured it was fine to recuperate from home.

By then, I was seven months gone but something was not right. ‘When the baby kicked, I could see the hand or the leg clearly. The worry that loomed in my head was that all the fluid had drained by then. I made my way to the same gynaecologist as careful as I could be now that my baby’s natural protection was in question. The gynae advised me to go for a scan.

The doctor who checked me confirmed my fears and asked what I had been waiting for? There was no fluid left to support the baby! She explained that when such a mishap happens at that juncture, the baby is open to infection which sends him into distress. A Caesarean section was what obligingly followed as both of our lives were at stake.

After coming to, I was told that my baby had been put in the incubator because he was in distress and he needed oxygen. My mind was filled with prayers that my baby would pull through. My husband further encouraged that the baby seemed healthy.

Towards Day 4 after delivery, I still had not seen my baby. Why they hadn’t suggested I do so, I do not know. So I braved the un-fathoming air and demanded for what was rightfully mine-time with my baby. I was wheeled to the nursery owing to my then weak frame. When we slowed to a stop before a baby who looked so peaceful, my heart was pounding away with so much love. Our eyes locked.
The tiny handsome boy in the incubator was mine. But we could not have much more of this connection because his condition was deteriorating and at around four in the morning, he passed on.

I survived the grief with support from family and friends. I moved my residence to avoid explaining the painful account, which included a re-doing of the Caesarean section as I was not healing as expected.

New joy
In September 2007, I conceived again. My joy was muddled with the horrors of my previous experience. But I was counselled into understanding that I had no control over the turnout of the pregnancy. My pregnancy records were steady until month five when my nightmare became real.
The sickening fluid began doing its trip. I was in hospital in no time and faithfully attended my weekly check-ups. Travelling had a big X on it and all went well until baby Anna showed up on June 3rd 2008. I must confess that part of me is still a little paranoid. I wake up at night to check that Anna is not choking in her sleep.

I admit that it is not easy being a new mother. Our immediate mature relatives, who have been there for us are far; leaving me with the doctor as my first and last consultant. The initial month was the toughest. We had just moved into our current town thus had no friends to bother. Thankfully, my dear sister-in-law made a point of coming over on some weekends to show us the most practical ways of burping, bathing, changing, and breastfeeding Anna.

She even suggested an alternative of relieving colic pain -water. My cracked nipple could hardly sooth her. My husband’s work was at stake; he would get late for work having stayed up during the night while Anna was crying.

.When Anna was two months, I gave her a cough syrup to relieve fever and she choked on it, so bad that she could not breathe. Not knowing what to do, my screams sent my husband running from the kitchen. In the midst of confusion, he turned the baby on her stomach. and she coughed all of it out.

Another time, I was in the kitchen, having come from taking Anna for her first injection. My brother who sat with her in the sitting room saw her fixedly gazing at one spot. He called for my attention seeing that his nudging her back to consciousness was not bearing fruit. After rushing her to hospital we learnt that it was fever, a side effect of the immunisation injection.

I love Anna for what she is, everything that she is. Her smile is enough to wipe any troubles of the day. There are times Anna looks intensely at me as if she wants to tell me something. Sometimes I think if she would speak, she would tell me something my boy had tried telling me.

END: PG20/29-30