Bundle of Love

The night before I gave birth to my third child I was filled with fear. Earlier in the day I had been told by the doctor at the local hospital to return home and prepare myself for an induced birth on the following day. There had been complications and a real threat of having a still birth. I wanted to be surrounded by nurses and doctors and machines to monitor my babies heart but instead, I lay awake all night having dreadful visions of the grim reaper. On this one occasion I wished I hadn't been gifted with such a vivid imagination.

The next morning I kissed my beautiful Yasmin and Azzam goodbye. They were extremely upset that I was leaving them, even though as it turned out, I was only in the hospital for approximately four memorable hours.

It was not the custom for the father to watch the birth of their child in Syria but Fawaz was not going to miss out on the birth of our third baby, so he and the ill tempered old nurse were in a Mexican stand off and of course, Fawaz won.

The Russian wife of the local paediatrician happened to be passing my room and popped her head in and commented that my bed and blanket were in a worse condition then the ones found in a Russian prison. Her comments only added to my anxiety and when I had to use the toilet I found it under the stairs and the steel mobile drip stand could not fit in the tiny space so I had to enter unaided with the stand on an angle and use the hole in the floor.

The local Skelbieh folk were fed up with the poor standard of their only private hospital and that prompted a group of local medical specialists to plan and build a new modern hospital.

It was still in the process of being built when I gave birth to my third child.

Fortunately, there were no complications during the birth and we were blessed with a healthy three and a half kilo baby boy. That was a surprise to me because a previous ultrasound apparently showed that I was having a girl. Nevertheless, I loved my son from the first moment I lay eyes on him. Yasmin and Azzam were waiting excitedly in the ward to join their baby brother.

After about an hour of observation, the baby and I were allowed to go home. We didn't own a car and there were no taxis in the town so our only means of transport on that day was with one of our friends who owned a pickup. Fawaz and the two older children drove home first and the driver came back with Fawaz to take the baby and I. It was wintertime and it was snowing and all I cared about was the bundle of love that I held in my arms.

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