Wednesday, 13 March 2013

The Gift of Life : The story of a baby

Hi everyone. I've just finished my paediatrics rotation and now in my obs & Gynae rotation. Things are going pretty well so far. But these two rotations, without me knowing and realising, taught me something about life.

I was in NICU the other day. Stands for Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Mostly for babies who were born prematurely. So, I was strolling around, mainly observing the other day. Wasn't going to do much. I went on from one cubicle to another watching these small babies sleeping.

But this one baby in his cubicle that got my attention the most. He was born just a few days ago with a birth weight 990gram. That's insanely low. He's about 26 weeks gestational age. He was lying down on his back and looks so small. Got the feeding tube down his throat. And all the wires and fancy gadgets to monitor his vital signs.

What struck me the most was that he opened his eyes and stared at me. At first I was glad he was opening his eyes and make some silly face hoping that he would be entertained. But the longer he stared, the more I felt there was something in his eyes. It wasn't sickness or disease. It was more to that. As if saying or making a statement to me that he's trying his best to make it.

It's like he said "I can do this!"

I stood there for a whole 15 minutes just looking into his eyes. Oh the wonders! That very moment I see a small premature baby, battling all in this world to live on and be someone. And yet, I realised that there are people in this world that just simply throw away their gift of life.

I guess life's unfair. It's unfair for this little baby. But hey! It's not for me to decide what's fair and what's not. I guess we just have to accept it and realise that the good will always be rewarded somehow in the end.

And I've watched a number of times babies being born in this world. Maybe soon I would deliver one myself. Personally I don't feel much when they were born. It's all messy. And noisy I suppose.

What more surreal to me is that when I stand at a corner and looking at a father reciting azan for his child. The happiness was just blooming. Even from his voice you could tell that it was no ordinary azan. It was special. I guess another gift of life that we all have is religion. It's what connected us all in the first place.

I do not know neither the father nor the mother. I've only seen the baby for a few minutes and yet that happiness came to me as if it was meant to be. I can feel that the azan would give me happiness even when it's not my child.

I hope that child knows how precious his gift of life. I hope we all do.

Thank you everyone. For reading. I hope this makes sense to you as it did to me.