A Child Before Birth A Fathers Unspoken Grief

A Child Before Birth: A Father’s Unspoken Grief

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BY:Khan

Abdul Majid’s children were a blessing that only someone who has been deprived of such a gift can truly understand. Parents are always ready to sacrifice everything for the happiness of their children, and the pain of separation is something they bear with great difficulty. Ajmal was among those fortunate enough to be blessed with two beautiful children, yet he remained sad and withdrawn. The reason for his gloom was that one of his children had left this world before ever taking a breath.

Ajmal had shared this much with me before, but he always hesitated to talk beyond that point. Finally, one day, I persuaded him to tell me the full story. With a heavy heart, he said, “My friend, God has given me every happiness—a loving wife and beautiful children—but I cannot forget the child who left me before birth.”

Curious and concerned, I asked what had happened to the child. With a deep sigh, Ajmal admitted, “That’s the pain—I still don’t know what happened to my child.” His eyes welled up with tears as he continued, gathering his composure.

“We were sleeping as usual one night when I sensed some movement. My wife was writhing in pain on the bed next to me. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I immediately took her to the hospital. Seeing her condition, I was extremely worried, but she reassured me that she was feeling slightly better and suggested we wait until morning. At dawn, we reached the local hospital. I was silently praying, hoping our child would be healthy.

The midwife examined her and told us that the baby’s heartbeat wasn’t working. My worst fears came true when the ultrasound confirmed it. I had already chosen the name Khurram for the child, but the doctor had to tell us the heartbreaking truth: there was nothing they could do to save the baby. I tried everything to revive him, but failed.

The room fell silent. Tears streamed down my face, and my wife, Rubina, began sobbing uncontrollably. We were both devastated, mourning the loss of our child. The doctor informed us that Rubina would need to stay in the hospital and that our next child would be born in four days. I wanted to stay with my wife, but the hospital wouldn’t allow it. Those few days passed in a blur of grief and sorrow.

When Zubeida returned from the hospital, my wife had prepared beautiful clothes and toys for the child. She would pick up each item, kiss it, and cry. Our elder son, Saqib, asked whose things they were, and I told him they belonged to his younger brother. Only I knew the pain behind those preparations.”

Ajmal paused, taking a deep breath. “Time is the only thing that can heal bitter memories,” he said quietly. “The house that should have echoed with our child’s laughter was filled with silence. My wife and I spent every moment in sadness, even neglecting our older son.”

Some time later, Rubina became pregnant again. This time, we were cautious at every step. God blessed us with another beautiful son. The joy of having the child was immense, yet the grief for the first child still lingered. Our elder son was overjoyed to have a younger brother and wanted to care for him constantly, but Rubina avoided looking at him. We had hired a woman to take care of the baby.

I listened carefully to Ajmal and tried to make him understand: “You’re being unfair to your new child. God has already taken something from you, but He has also given you this gift in return. Think of this child as a blessing that belongs to you now.”

But Ajmal’s heart was still heavy, and my words seemed to have little effect. Months passed, and his son learned to walk. One day, I visited Ajmal, and the children were playing in the garden. Suddenly, the younger child fell while chasing his brother. The maid rushed over, but Rubina remained calm. I was surprised at her composure, thinking how detached she seemed. Even though she had lost a child before, it was still difficult to imagine the reaction if anything had happened to the younger one.

I explained this to Ajmal again, but he remained distant. Determined to help Rubina overcome her trauma, I suggested she visit a psychologist. After a few weeks of therapy, Rubina gradually started to improve. She began looking at her child occasionally, which was a significant milestone in her recovery.

Slowly, with continuous support, Ajmal and Rubina began giving their son attention and love. The child was adorable and chubby, impossible not to adore. Though they could never forget the child they had lost, they accepted God’s will and began to love Khurram wholeheartedly.

Through patience, time, and faith, the family found a way to heal. The first child’s memory remained in their hearts, but the gift of life they had received in Khurram brought them hope, joy, and a reason to smile again.

I pray that my friend Ajmal always remains happy in his life and that no parent ever has to endure the grief of losing a child.