Always in Our Hearts...

Today marks one month since the passing of Baby Kamil.

Time has yet to heal the pain of losing someone I've waited so long to meet, to hold, to watch grow and to love. Time, it seems, will never be able to.

How do you get over it? Is it a possible feat to try and forget something like this?

Five months ago, my husband and I were overjoyed at the news of my pregnancy. Something I've thought of one day being since I was even just a young girl. For the last five months, there was not a day that I wasn't grateful for the miracle that was growing inside me. For the last five months, I counted the days, the weeks, the months to when I could finally meet this little miracle.

Now, I count the days, the weeks, the months since the last time I held my little miracle.

Getting on with everyday life hasn't helped much. It seems, everything I do reminds me of when I was still with child. I still sleep on my side, like I did when I was still pregnant; I still walk carefully, like I did when I was still pregnant; I wear my maternity dresses that I got made just recently; I still feel like I need to buy baby things when I go shopping. The saddest thing that still haunts me is that I keep telling myself, as I look down on my tummy, even today, is that I should still be pregnant now.

But I'm not.

How do you get over it?

I remember, feeling excited about going shopping to buy maternity wear and even more excited about buying baby things - cots, bottles, clothes, tiny mittens and socks. I remember, how sometimes, I would get lost amongst the racks of baby clothes, the rows of baby cots or the shelves of baby bottles, just to psyched myself of what was to come.

But now, the sight of these things makes me turn the other way and tears would roll down my cheeks. Now, I don't know how to shop for clothes without looking for maternity clothes.

Now, I can't look at the car my husband recently bought and not think to myself, "This was supposed to be for him..."

Can you ever get over this?

It's difficult not to ask myself why did this happen to me, to us, to our little baby. And when I see my friends being pregnant, when I see my friends post pictures of their newborns, it becomes even more difficult to ignore the need for an answer to my question. And instead of joy and happiness for them, all I feel in my being are feelings of jealousy, envy and sadness. The worst part is, I somehow have succumbed to the feelings of hatred, maybe, at the fact that they are happy because they're still pregnant, and the reality that I'm not anymore.

Will I ever get over this?

People have always said things happen for a reason and that Allah meant for us something better later. This, and my husband, keep me hopeful, keep me strong in my times of weakness and sadness. I know Baby Kamil would have wanted me to be strong.

Despite my pain, I am grateful for the little miracles in life, for the wonderful 5 months my baby gave me and for the moment and memory, though little, I have with my baby.

*Baby Muhammad Kamil bin Haji Hazimin was expected to be born on 17th February 2013, but he arrived 4 months earlier, on 17th October 2012. He took his first breath at 6.50pm, weighing only 520 grammes and 29cm long. He had his father's looks. I sang the "I Love You" Barney song to him and touched his arms to let him know that his mommy and daddy were so very happy to see him. At 8.48pm, Baby Kamil took his last breath and we kissed him goodbye and told him we will love him always.*

He was our beautiful little baby boy.