My dear son,
I know it’s hard for you. I hope that you don’t feel the pain. I cannot begin to describe. Today we were on our way to see you. We geared up, all happy with the knowledge that the doctors said your chest would be stitched up tomorrow. That your vitals were good and that you were on the way to recovery.
But life is like a rollercoaster and this seems to be a recurring pattern, that each time when we look forward to a small piece of good news, that something else happens. When the nurse called my heart had already leapt to my throat. Hearing her say that you were very sick had me sick with worry. As your father rushed to find a parking space for the bike, I rushed up to the NICU. No one could go in. There were so many doctors and nurses rushing about to save you. I prayed to Allah so hard to keep you safe, to protect you, to heal you.
Your left lung had collapsed. There was a cyst. There was a lot of bleeding. Your heart couldn’t take the stress. Your brave little heart tried its best. They had to put you on the ECMO machine. At least then your little lung and heart could catch a break to heal. Oh my son. I’m so sorry that you had to go through this. I prayed that whatever pain you felt that it would be me instead to brave it through for you.
You are the most precious and special thing in my life. I pray to Allah to forgive me, to forgive us of our errors and sins. I pray to Allah that He will guide you and bring you back to good health. In this month of Ramadhan, I pray that you will get better. Fight this fight. I fight it with you. Your father fights it with you. Everyone who loves you has been praying so hard for you. Your nenek, your atuk, your uncles and aunties. We all love you so much. Fight hard my son. I fight this with you.
I love you so much. I want to hear you cry again. I want to see your eyes open. I want to see you wave your arms and your feet again. I want to see you punch through the plastic wrap that keeps you warm. I want to hear the sounds you make when you sleep, like the recording that I have in my phone. I want to feel your tiny fingers wrap around mine. I want to smell you, kiss your forehead.
I want to finally be able to hold you. To cradle you. To smother you with kisses. To have you feel and hear my heart beat in time with yours.
My dear son, there is so much waiting for you. And I can only pray now for you to be strong. For you to get better. For you to heal and recover. For you to come home.
I love you. Please know that. Please know mummy loves you. So much. So very much. So much more than anything else in the world. As much as I love Allah.
I love you.
Ya Allah, keep my son safe. Look after him, protect him. Ya Allah, heal my son. Please Allah the most Gracious the most Merciful the most Loving the most Giving. Save my son Ya Allah.