Meet Hamza


Labels: , ,

وَلَقَدْ خَلَقْنَا الْإِنسَانَ مِن سُلَالَةٍ مِّن طِينٍ
(12) ثُمَّ جَعَلْنَاهُ نُطْفَةً فِي قَرَارٍ مَّكِينٍ (13) ثُمَّ خَلَقْنَا النُّطْفَةَ عَلَقَةً فَخَلَقْنَا الْعَلَقَةَ مُضْغَةً فَخَلَقْنَا الْمُضْغَةَ عِظَاماً فَكَسَوْنَا الْعِظَامَ لَحْماً ثُمَّ أَنشَأْنَاهُ خَلْقاً آخَرَ فَتَبَارَكَ اللَّهُ أَحْسَنُ الْخَالِقِينَ (14) المؤمنون

Verily We created man from a product of wet earth (12); Then placed him as a drop (of seed) in a safe lodging (13); Then fashioned We the drop a clot, then fashioned We the clot a little lump, then fashioned We the little lump bones, then clothed the bones with flesh, and then produced it as another creation. So blessed be Allah, the Best of creators!(14) The Believers, Holy Quran


Meet Hamza, my firstborn son. God's gift to me. I am so full of emotions that I am not able to express them adequately. It has been one very strange night when we left for the hospital. We wanted to have a natural childbirth but he refused to turn upside down. We decided to go for an operation and we had the luxury of presetting the date of birth. A bit less hassle than the shock that accompanies a surprising labor pain but still manages to make you very anxious.

We drove to the hospital, the doctor was there and my wife suddenly realized that there is no turning back and that she is going to actually be operated upon. She didn't panic or anything but she got her self one of the palest faces I ever saw on her. The doctor came to the room and recommended epidural anesthesia, which meant she will be awake during the operation. I gulped, as I was not sure if she will feel pain that way or not. Then twice gulped when the doctor asked me to change into an operation suit. "I will need your help there" he said.

I am not sure how did I change or how did the time pass when I was waiting in the doctor's area. Watching them washing their hands over and over (much like in the Panadol commercial). I sat there, silent, contemplating the moment. Thinking of what I might say to support her and if I am really capable of seeing her being cut. It was bizarre, ideas seemed to flash very fast in my mind and strangely it seemed totally empty at the same time. Something similar to that feeling when you try to memorize everything in your head minutes before an exam.

That state was preempted when they called for me. I went inside. My first time in an operation room. They were about to start. I sat on a chair so that my head was a bit higher than hers. I leaned forward to be level with her and started whispering in her ear. She was praying, she was repeating prayers and she was trying to remember the names of every person she knew. To pray for him/her. At that time I glanced over her. Just a glimpse as I ducked immediately after I saw that terrifying blood stream.

I tried as hard as I can to hide the effect of what I saw. I kept soothing her and helping her with her prayers. At that time we were both repeating: "My God, Nothing goes smooth but what you make smooth, and You are who makes hardship smooth" and "All power and might belong to Allah, the most High, the Great". Again I took another glimpse, and my God! I saw a little foot in the doctor's hand!.

It was pale, blueish white. The skin was wrinkled as wrinkled can be. The doctor was holding to it and pushing the rest of the baby out. My eyes were fixed on the scene in front of me. I was on complete awe. The miracle of birth. Exalted be Allah. I kept saying that between my words when I told my wife that I am seeing the baby. She was out of her breath. Firing questions as rapidly as she can manage. "Is he OK?", "Is he out already?". I tried to keep pace with her then resorted to "he's coming out, he's coming out"

It was a few minutes till the doctor manage to get him completely out. I saw him, very very small. Very vulnerable. Very weak. I couldn't help the tear forming in my eyes for the sight of him. He was crying as the nurses wrapped him and took him away for his first shower. My wife was tired beyond belief. But she asked me to run after him to take his first photos.

I ran for it and saw that they put him under some sort of a heater to keep him warm. I leaned on him, kissed him and recited the call to prayers in his both ears. They took him and showered him. And I watched the expression of disbelief on his face. It was funny to see such a thing. I wouldn't expect a different expression from an adult if was locked for nine months and then taken out like what happened to him.

I showered him myself with photos. Very funny ones. I hope the collection will grow. As I watch him grow.

I look at him now and see a much calmer expression on his face. Except when he is hungry of course. Getting him to that level means an inescapable scandal as he raises his voice loud enough to make sure that everyone in the neighborhood knows that we starve him.

Parenting is a new experience for me. I have always loved experiencing new things specially if I had a passion for them. In this case, I have more than a passion. I have love that I can't describe. I keep remembering how vulnerable I saw him that day. It affected me in a way that I have yet to understand.