"I have bad news," he said, unusually sombre. From the look on his face, I couldn't really tell. Seven and a half months into the pregnancy, the Ultrasound scans display symptoms of Thalassemia. The specialist gave them very bad odds. Their own Gynae suggested they wait and see.
A week later on Saturday, they couldn't wait any longer. She went into labour on Sunday morning. By Monday night it was over. Their baby didn't make it.
It pained my heart to hear it. It still does.
"I didn't carry her," he told me. I understood. People deal with pain differently. He said it best; when you carry your child and put her down later, you fully expect to pick her up again. But not this one. This one left early. And along with her, their hopes, dreams and aspirations for her.
He felt it best to detach themselves and move on. But that wasn't him talking. That was his defense mechanism.
I told him to take his time. Sometimes in a tragedy, people get so caught up trying to manage the situation that they neglect to take some time for themselves. Some time to mourn the loss. Some time to heal. And some time to give thanks for the ones we have by our side.
If you have suffered a loss of an unborn child or know someone who has, do take the time to read this article (click). To learn more about Thalassemia, read this (click).