An Ode to the unborn

‘Cause You were just a small bump unborn for four months then torn from life. Maybe you were needed up there but we’re still unaware as why.

Ed Sheeran, (Small Bump)

The day I found out about your existence was the best day of my life. Your mother; she was glowing with happiness. The love of my life was going to have my child; I was so happy. You were about a month old then. We could see just a tiny blob on the screen, but I was in love with that blob. It was mine and hers. It was ours.

Soon you started to grow. We could see little feet and hands. Your mother began to grow too. Physically and emotionally. Her belly was growing. We could see you now, as a small bump on her body. And I loved talking to you through her. Did you hear me? Could you?

The first time I heard your heartbeat, my heart stopped. I was filled with amazement and love. I was overflowing with it. “We made that,” was all that was running in my mind, and I’ll admit to you, I cried a bit. It was the best noise I’ve ever heard. The best music. I made them record it, so I could listen to it again and again. I still listen to it sometimes.

We painted your nursery when you were just three months old. And we had so much fun doing it, you know… We painted it yellow and put in pink and blue furniture. We even bought a crib, the best one available. And jumpsuits! We could never agree on one, so we bought them all. So tiny and cute. We purchased toys too. So many that it was gonna be challenging to buy anything for your birthday. We purchased every single toy in the market in four months.

Your mother started putting headphones on her belly and playing her favourite songs. “So that the baby would grow up with a good taste in music.” That was what she told everyone. I talked to you every night. We sang you lullabies. We were so in love with you.

But then something happened. Your mother woke up in a lot of pain. She was bleeding. There was so much blood. I didn’t know what to do. I rushed her to the hospital. You were gonna be 5 months old next week. Just a few weeks, and you would have been here in the world with us.
They had her in surgery for hours. They wouldn’t tell me anything. I couldn’t help but keep asking about the two of you. I prayed, I begged, I bargained. I did everything I could. My mind kept rushing to the worst scenarios. I could not lose both my loves in one night.

They came to me at 6 in the morning. 15 minutes and 4 hours after I brought the two of you to the hospital. They told me she had had a miscarriage. They told me you were gone, but she was alive. It was a miracle that they could save her. They said they were sorry for my loss, but I was lucky that she was still alive. They said sorry and lucky in the same sentence. They told me that she was sleeping and didn’t know yet. They wanted me to tell her. That you weren’t with us anymore. That you were in a better place now. They wanted me to say to her that we would remove the nursery. They wanted me to tell her that she could never have a baby again. Never be a mother again.

I was broken; she was critical. She woke up 30 minutes and 6 hours after. She was destroyed at the news. Her eyes glimmering with tears she was too weak to shed. You see, I would have learnt to be a good father to you, but she was already the best mother in the world.

Days after, she roamed the house, reminiscing your presence in her life. In just four months, you had changed us both. We were parents without a baby.

2 months later, we got a call. The hospital called to say that a baby had been born, motherless. The mother had died in a car accident. The baby was lucky to have survived. Again sorry and lucky in the same sentence. They were wondering if we wanted to adopt it. It was a girl. I told your mother. Asked her. In the two months since you left, I had never seen her move so fast. She wanted that baby.

We officially adopted her three days later. We named her Grace. We would have called you Holly if you’d been a girl and Drew if you’d been a boy.
Your sister is 7 days 3 months old now. She is an angel. Grace. We’ll always miss you, though. But thank you for sending Grace to us. I hope her mother is looking after you too.

We’ll always love you. And your sister. No one can replace you in our hearts. But Grace has lessened the pain of losing you.
I just hope that you are happy, wherever you are. Our little guardian angel.


6 thoughts on “An Ode to the unborn”

  1. Sweet story…the father’s point of view has been portrayed beautifully. I loved it…?

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