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Ramadhan 17, 1438

Dear baby no. 2,

Welcome alive in the world of rahim ūüôā It’s the coziest place since you’ve given life, you can ask you big sister that. FYI, I think by now we (mama and abah) have already decided your name. We’re just excited to see whether you would be a boy or a girl. Ramadhan, since the past two years had always been nice to us. The past two Ramadan, we were given the news of our lives, the existence of your big sister. This year’s Ramadhan, you showed up! Alhamdulillah.

I will do my best to keep you comfy. The rest is in Allah’s hand, whether He wants us to finally meet up (another blind date), or keep you for later in Syurga. Either way, thank you for making this Ramadhan a special one! ūüôā We’re so excited. We have been expecting you for a while now (a couple of months) and the wait is real. We could emphasise other couples who are longing to conceive a baby…

Your presence is welcomed and brings delight but not in a very pleasant way, I must say. The way you first said ‘Hi’ to me was by making feel like I wanted to puke so bad. Oh dear…it’s Ramadhan some more. I mistaken it for masuk angin when it was really morning sickness. The past weeks I kept telling people that I felt like vomiting. And the statement follows with a claim, “…but I’m not pregnant, I know that for sure.” Pfffftftf. Jyaa right. The only thing that triggered me to check was when¬†Mr. Daddy, while lying in bed, became all drama queen¬†saying he felt nausea and wanted to vomit just like he did when we were about to discover your big sis. Surprise surprise. Alhamdulillah regardless, this too shall pass. It hasn’t been too bad like when I had your sister. She drove me crazy. I puked as often as I ate, which for pregnant ladies, there’s no such thing as¬†enough, full or I’m done, thank you.

If you ask me which part of pregnancy did I find the most horror, nope it wasn’t the labor nor the bloody cutting down there, it was the morning sickness. Imagine throwing up while driving. I had never been more grateful for the two of my palms. Just thinking of it makes me feel sick. So I better stay quiet. The unwelcome weight gain¬†of 20kg+ came second, just fyi.

Anyway babies, lately, Mama have been hit with so many news regarding cancer patients. And deaths. We visited Onyang¬†Cu, your Atok’s uncle. He had been admitted for a month in¬†IKN (Institut Kanser Negara) due to a throat cancer. A famous young hijabista I came to know Shea Rasol passed away last Friday in the holy month due to a rare cancer perut too which happens to 1 in a million poeple. Al- Fatihah. We went to AEON yesterday, after doing the UPT in the restroom (yes we were that excited), big sis and I sat on a bench in front of Kidzoona, a man carrying his sleeping baby came to sit next to us and suddenly confessed,¬†“Saya ada kanser.” Then big sis ran off. -_-” So after the awkward break, excusing myself to chase after Little Miss B, I came back to him to listen to the rest of the story while using every gut I had to distract¬†Miss B.

His name is Mr. Ali. He tilted off¬†his cap to show me that a third of his skull and brain have been chewed up by the cancer from the inside. There’s a big slope on the left side of his head. He imparted further that he is losing the ability to speak ūüôĀ He was struggling. Allahuakbar. All I could say was “I pray that your matter will be eased by Allah and that you are tough to put up with the test. Allah sayang betul kat En. Ali. Tabah ya, ini semua dunya. Ini semua¬†sementara.”

Life is precious, they say. As precious as it is, why do you think Allah makes certain people sick and troubled as though He is depreciating their worth to live the same quality of life? Why is life so precious anyway? Why can’t people commit suicide as they wish? What kind of life that is precious? All kinds? These questions came striking abruptly before I could rationalise one by one.

I came to amend Miss B’s little gold bracelet at AEON. It made me think, although¬†the price¬†of gold fluctuates, there was and will always be a value for gold for as long as we live regardless if it has been marred in whatever condition. Gold in its instrinsic value and truest nature is rare, not easily extracted, popularised as ornaments and symbolises wealth. Likewise human beings, no matter what religions we were born in, how broken we are, or how bad the tumult we’ve dwelled in, doesn’t diminish the fact that in our truest nature, we are His creatures. He gave us heart beat, veins of blood flow and an amazing brain for memory, neurones activities and hormone production. We’re here to worship Him alone. For that, in His eyes, we are precious regardless our shapes and abilities.

We are precious because we are the carrier and barer of kalimah “There’s no God but God”. From there arises¬†meaning in this life and whatever we do.

Life is precious, because it requires a syahid effort to extract one out.

Life is precious because we carry a potential of leadership to govern this world, or at the very least dependency of others on us.

Life is precious because it is simply a gift.

For dear cancer fighters, till the very last of your breath, your life is precious as you give people hope, worship Him alone and realise your life as a gift, that you never even asked for to begin with. The meaning behind all this suffering is to elevate your status as you are sooner or later returning back to the Owner and Giver of life.

To the¬†precious life whose heart is beating¬†inside my tummy, it’s miraculous to see and hear you even before¬†you could hear yourself. Your umbilical cord attached to mine is your life line! So please play safe in there and we all look forward to seeing you. May Allah ease, amin.

 

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