Friday, April 24, 2020

Ramadhan 1st, 1441H

Bismillah.

This is the first Ramadhan for me, after I got married.
Ramadhan is always coming (even more reminded each time I opened Naja's blog, lol) and alhamdulillah I'm able to reach Ramadhan again, this year.
Too much has happened and too many feelings, sometimes I'm confused of what to call my current feeling is.

The dusk of Ramadhan the 1st this year, I did my tarawih alone, cz of the RMO and H was too tired from his dayjob. He ended up doing his tarawih at the wee hours of 2 am. But we managed to get sahur together, just a small affair, and I'm glad to learn that he shares the same values for sahur as mine, as in he appreciates sahur as a blessing and it is a practicable sunnah to take sahur late. After the subuh prayers, we didn't know what else to do other than him watching his anime, planning desserts for berbuka (apparently I'm in for an Egyptian treat tonight) and me, finally finding the time to really read Senandika by Lutfi Ishak.

Let me share some of my favourite excerpts from Senandika.

i. apakah aku pengembara, mencari cabaran di tanah baru
atau pemburu, menjejak hening paling murni? atau seorang
pemimpi, jarang menemui kebeningan dalam tidurnya --
kau tahu, seorang budiman bermimpi menjadi rama-rama
tika bangun, diakah rama-rama yang lena?
di tanah jauh ini, aku sering tersesat di dalam mimpi bingit
tika sedar, apakah aku betul-betul jaga?

kuhargai sihat kerana maklum erti sakit, tapi
apakah bingit, kalaku tidak tahu makna sunyi?

ii. kata-kata lebih abadi, sepanjang perjalanan
cukup aksara. sekeping gambar, potret ribuan erti
tanpa aksara, sekeping gambar
bagai pengetahuan tanpa budi.

I also noticed Mr Lutfi seems to really took a liking to the word 'senapati'. It's included in every other poem in this piece. I wish I can discuss this piece with someone later on. It's interesting to read his un-themed antology, after reading Dondang Pembukaan which is a beautiful, majestic planned masterpiece. Kind of gets into his head more. Kinda.

I hope I can khatam the Qur'an again this Ramadhan too. And leave Ramadhan later, a butterfly.
Which is an irony since I'm phobic to butterflies, but eh, humans rarely know what's best for them.

Toodles,
Keon.

Tuesday, April 14, 2020

Remembering Arissa

Today is Day 2 of me, post-miscarriage of my first child.

We got happily married on 25th January 2020.
I realized I'm pregnant 2 months after our wedding day.
H and I was so excited. We never wanted to wait; both of us are in our 30's, most of our peers already had an average of 2 children.
I'm excited and embraced every changes that's happening to me.
I cant tolerate heat. I sweat like a pig. My appetite is beyond monstrous. And I get tired very easily.
Alhamdulillah I did not have the usual nausea and vomiting like others do.
I cannot eat fast food or coffee, or I will get bloated and constipated. I called you Miss Healthy Lifestyle, child. I miss my nuggets. Haha.
It reaches a point where H would stand guard when I'm cooking at the kitchen beside me, afraid I might get too tired and fell down.
H was keen to search for baby names. Me on the other hand, wasn't as enthusiastic, I didn't know why. I told H I'm hoping to get a girl, so that I can dress her in pretty frocks and dresses. I want her to inherit H's brown eyes. H said he kinda love the name Arissa. Which means, strong spirits. Keazaman yang kuat. I laughed it off, saying it's a very common name for kids these days, even when I was working at the kindergarten prior to housemanship.

11/4/2020
I saw a spot of brown ?blood on my underwear with some discharge. I brushed it off, thinking maybe it's just a discharge. I did my usual chores and by Maghrib time, I got ready to take a bath. I realized I was bleeding. A lot.
I told H and he asked me to be calm, to get ready to be scanned at the hospital. We went and alhamdulillah, the baby was still there in my womb. I was treated as threatened miscarriage and given some meds, allowed home soon as.
H forced me to do complete rest in bed. He cooked (amazingly) and put a side table near our bed, taking care of my every single movement.

12/4/2020
The next day he still got to work, so he woke up early and cooked a meal for me, putting it on my side table so that I dont have to move, along with my meds. He came home a few times to check on me (luckily the clinic he works at is a mere 2 mins drive.) The bleeding didnt stop. It got worse.

At 4 pm I woke up from sleep, thinking I peed myself. I went to the toilet only to find out blood pouring out of me like tapwater. I called H and he came straight home. While I was getting ready to the hospital, I felt something big came out of me and there it is. The POC, as we called in medical terms. Product of conception. Something fleshy. A.k.a. my baby. I couldnt hold it in anymore and cried like anything. H cried too while holding me tight. After a while of gathering ourselves, we went to the hospital for a scan. And the doctor confirmed it. The baby came out with the placenta. And my uterus is empty. I felt empty. And there is nothing that can change me back.

We haven't even make it to our first checkup. From what we've learned, the baby's heart started beating at 5 weeks. And my baby is at 7 weeks old. At home, H did a simple tahlil for the baby. We decided to name her Arissa. To remember our first child. He buried our child the next morning, near to the flowers beside our house.

So here I am, in confinement during MCO days, without my mother/mother in law with me.
This is for you sayang mummy,
Arissa binti Khairul Nor Al-Hafiz,
The first in my womb,
and the first in my heart. Mummy and daddy love you and miss you entirely.
May we meet again in Jannah sayang, ameen ya rabbal 'alamin.