The past weekend has been terrifying. Even as I write this, I’m still struggling to process everything that happened.
Some days ago, I wrote about how excited I was to become an auntie again. I talked about my sister’s pregnancy, the fibroids she has been dealing with alongside it, and how I couldn’t wait to go baby shopping and prepare for the arrival of our little one. What I didn’t know was how quickly everything could turn upside down.
About two weeks ago, my sister was admitted to the hospital after a severe fall. Not long after, she began experiencing intense pain in her lower abdomen. She described it as feeling like contractions, except the pain was so severe that she could barely sit.
The hospital ran some tests, including an ultrasound, and administered medication, but the pain wouldn’t go away. It persisted for days.
Then, through someone she met at the hospital, she was introduced to a midwife who also practises traditional and spiritual healing. My sister met with her and was given herbal preparation to use as an enema. According to my sister, the pain subsided almost immediately afterwards and we were all relieved. After days of watching her suffer, having her finally feel some relief felt like a blessing. But the woman had also advised her to avoid certain foods until after she gave birth.
Eventually, she went back to eating some of those foods because of her cravings, and on Thursday evening, the pain returned. This time, it came back with full force. She couldn’t sleep, neither could the rest of us.
She is only about six months pregnant, yet some of the medical practitioners who examined her remarked that her abdomen had dropped in a way that made the pregnancy look much further along, almost like that of a woman approaching full term. But her cervix was still closed and that became another source of confusion and fear for all of us.
After going back and forth between hospitals and seeking different opinions, we found ourselves desperate for answers and terrified that we weren’t getting them quickly enough. Eventually, we decided to return to the woman who had previously helped her.
So, early Saturday morning, she and I packed up and left. I wasn’t even feeling well myself, but there was no question that I was going with her.
The journey was about an hour and a half, but it felt much longer. Watching someone you love struggle with that much pain does something to you. I spent part of the journey fighting back tears because, for the first time, the possibility of something going seriously wrong felt painfully real.
On the way, we stopped at a restaurant because my sister needed to eat. She had absolutely no appetite, but she forced herself to take something because she needed the strength. I had to eat too because I needed to take my medication. Afterwards, we walked the remaining distance to the woman’s house.
When we arrived, there was already a crowd. Women everywhere. Some were pregnant, some were there to seek help with fertility, some were close to delivery and others had completely different problems. It was one of those sights that increased my anxiety by a notch.
We eventually found seats and waited. When the woman arrived, she gave a short teaching about spirituality, marriage and childbirth. It was an interesting lecture, but if I’m being completely honest, my mind was somewhere else. I was watching my sister as she was still in pain. I just wanted someone to attend to her.
After the teaching, the woman began attending to other people whose situations were different from my sister’s. Thankfully, her assistant recognised my sister and asked what was wrong so my sister explained that the pain had returned. The assistant gave her two bottles of herbal mixtures and instructed her to take them in the same manner as the previous preparation.
We left, holding on to hope. Sometimes, when you’re desperate enough, hope becomes the only thing you have left to hold. By the time we started the journey home, both of us were exhausted. We had also moved back to our parents’ house because, well, there is something about being at home when things become frightening.
My mother knows enough about pregnancy, women and childbirth to offer some comfort, but even she admitted that my sister’s situation was unusual and beyond what she could simply reason through.
We got home very late and my sister took what she had been given and we waited and waited. Hours passed, nothing changed. Sunday came, the pain became worse. And suddenly, the fear that had been sitting in the background became impossible to ignore.
We’re now faced with difficult decisions and questions we don’t have the answers to. My parents have suggested that she might need an evacuation or an early delivery, but the thought of an intervention at this stage terrifies all of us.
My sister is frightened of surgery. She says even thinking about going under the knife makes her feel like she could pass out. And beyond the fear of the procedure itself is another reality we can’t ignore. If the baby has to be delivered this early, there is a possibility of a prolonged stay in neonatal care. That comes with enormous emotional and financial costs.
We’re scared of losing the baby just as much as we’re scared of losing my sister. And we’re also scared of making the wrong decision while trying desperately to make the right one.
One question that keeps running through my mind is whether premature labour can even happen when the cervix is still closed, or what exactly could be causing this level of pain. We don’t know and that uncertainty is the most frightening part.
I don’t want to pretend I understand what is happening medically. We have sought medical care, and we are still trying to get clear answers about what is happening and what the safest course of action is for both mother and baby. But right now, we’re praying. Seriously praying for clarity, competent help and that whatever is causing this pain can be identified and treated. Praying that my sister gets to hold her baby when the time is right.
A few days ago, I was writing about tiny baby clothes and how excited I was to become an auntie but today, I’m just hoping for the simple privilege of meeting this baby healthy and having my sister there beside me.
Life really can change in the blink of an eye and right now, more than anything else, we’re hoping for a miracle.
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