A very long post. Only for those who wants to read and do not mind my faith. Am not here to start any debate on religion. I ask that readers who do not understand my faith to kindly ignore this post. Thank you in advance.

Intro:

Currently 33 weeks pregnant. This is my 6th pregnancy with 1 living child (boy) who is now 5 years old.

Both my pregnancies with my girls taught me ONE important lesson – Allah is in control.

With my second pregnancy, I was 110% sure it will turn out just as fine as my first, if not, even better. I was too full of myself. I strongly believed I was in control. Everything will go just the way I want it to be. With that attitude, I bought as many things I could to prepare for her arrival. What could go wrong, right? Little did I knew she would arrive much much earlier than expected – 26 weeks gestational.

Then it striked me hard. I had no control. I couldn’t make things better for her as she fought for her life every single day in the Intensive Care Unit. There were needles on her tiny body practically everywhere. She could hardly rest because she was in pain. I don’t remember her smiling. In fact she was frowning; trying to cry but nothing came out from her mouth. She was begging for help, but I was helpless – the strongest and worst feeling I had as I watched her shrunk with each passing day. Suddenly God was all I had. Not a single day went by without reciting verses in the Quran. I was frustrated because I was not in the condition to do my daily prayers. I needed Him so badly but I was lost. I tried to find Him again. But I was so used to thinking that nothing will go wrong for me that I didn’t know how or what to do. I never thought I could be this powerless over my circumstances.

Out of desperation, I tried to be a good Muslim. I made a promise to Him that I will give half of my pay to the mosque and fast for a month in exchange for my daughter’s life. Not something that I would do since things had always been the way I planned it to be. On the night before payday, I repeated that promise. I was determined to get the money out at sunrise and visit the nearest mosque. He knew I would do it. He knew I would do anything. But He was in control. An unexpected news came at about 4am when my husband and I were asleep. My daughter wasn’t breathing well even with the best oxygen machine at 100%. My husband and I made our way to the hospital as soon as we could. There was no time to go to the atm nor the mosque. Obviously, my ‘deal’ was rejected. He wanted something else. Something more than just money and temporary good deeds that have no use to Him.

He knew I needed a more difficult test for me to change for good – not just for a day or a month.

We reached NICU to find our daughter lying weakly in her fully-opened incubator. It was strange and the atmosphere around her was different but I was too optimistic, maybe too hopeful, or scared to imagine the worst. All I wanted and prayed for was my little girl to grow healthily, painlessly.

I held the Yaasin in my hands tighter, recited the verses a bit louder, reflecting the desperation to keep my baby breathing. Her breathing was so weak that many times it triggered the alarm. I wasn’t ready to let go. Little did I know she was waiting for me to surrender. To submit to His will. My husband, he was different. He knew she was not meant for this world. I remember him putting his hand gently on my shoulder and asked if I could let her go. I couldn’t answer. I could only manage to nod my head. But that was enough for her. Immediately after that nod, her chest rose and fell as she let out her last breath. And I was overwhelmed with relief. Finally I saw her looking peaceful. There were no signs of stress nor pain. It was only later all the emotions relating to loss came to me. My consolation was knowing she was no longer in pain and is now in a better place.

Fast forward everything.

Found out I had thyroid cancer and went for surgery to remove my thyroid gland which then makes me a hypothyroid patient who is dependent on lifelong medication. Although clearly stated hypothyroid patients face higher chance of infertility and miscarriage, I didn’t want to lose without trying.

A positive pregnancy test in 2014. But wasn’t meant to be.

Another one in early 2015. Also not meant to be.

Fifth pregnancy in mid 2015. Again, not meant to be.

So yes, hypothyroid patients have high chances of miscarriages. I am the proof. I decided to let it go and focus on raising and loving my one and only living child despite 5 pregnancies.

Sixth positive in April 2016. I was set and ready to bleed. Everyday I went out prepared for the show. Based on 3 past experiences, it does not take more than 4 days for the signs to come. I didn’t tell my husband as I didn’t want to disappoint him anymore. 1 week passed and there was still no show. Finally told my husband and we went to have it confirmed. Indeed, this one stuck like glue.

Somehow it was difficult to remain positive with 1 loss and 3 miscarriages. As much as I tried to not think about losing this baby, I can’t help but worry that my body can’t keep this one just like the previous 4.

Again, I have forgotten something very important - I have no control over the things that happen to me. Allah makes the call for He has power over all things. If He wants it to be a loss, it’ll be a loss even with the healthiest body. And if He wants it to be a gift, He gives it even if the body is weak.

I have now understood my limitations and His dominion over every single matter. All praises are due to Allah who has no partner. I bear witness that that He has power over all things. I submit to His will and He is the best planner. His promise is real and His mercy is all-encompassing. I ask Him to keep me humble at all times; let me live this life according to His commands; and remove from my heart anything that is not beloved to Him. Amin.

Thank you for reading.

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