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Rated: E · Folder · Emotional · #2021303
A mother's dilemma at having to terminate her pregnancy
I was well into my twentieth week of pregnancy despite the diagnosis of my ESRD – End Stage Renal Disease. The year was 1985.
It was one lazy afternoon when I felt a strange and distinct pulling and tugging inside me. Worried and wondering if my state of health was affecting my baby inside me, I voiced my concern to my grandaunt who frequently came to stay with us.
She looked at me knowingly and then replied casually, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with your child. The baby is kicking you from inside.”
O my God! Her answer stunned me and brought mixed feelings. It was such an awesome sensation. All of a sudden I felt this renewed surge of love for my baby, my first – the feeling so overwhelming that my heart felt like bursting and my body felt warm all over. I cradled my tummy and imagined myself cradling him in the crook of my arms. I knew my baby was a boy. During the last visit to the maternity clinic, the obstetrician had run an ultrasound scan and determined his sex. I smiled to myself. This was one spunky baby I had inside me, kicking away from inside his mother’s womb.
And just as suddenly too I sobered up as I remembered the outcome of my meeting with the nephrologist. Dr. Zack had advised termination of the pregnancy.
“The ESRD is aggravated by the pregnancy. You may feel well, but that’s because your kidneys are working extra hard to support you and the baby. I don’t think you can carry this pregnancy to full term with all the toxin that is building up in you right now. Continuing with the pregnancy will surely only endanger your life. But I am sure you already know this.”
That was a month ago. I had told Dr. Zack that I needed time to think things over; I had to discuss with my husband, and I wanted to seek other experts’ opinions. Dr. Zack nodded understandingly.
“Just don’t take too long. Your baby is growing every day.”

My husband had not wasted any time and sought opinions both from the medical and religious experts. The doctors we went to had all agreed with Dr. Zack. What clinched his decision was when he met up with one leading professor in our Islamic faith, Prof Dr. Harun.
“In the Islamic faith, in situations such as in your wife’s case, when there are two lives to consider, one alive and one whose life is as yet uncertain (as was my unborn child), it becomes imperative to save the life of the living.”
But how can I?
How can I possibly give up on my baby now?
True, his kicks were only just feeble twitches, but to me, I felt he was as much alive in me as I am. I am his mother – I simply could not give up on my child. Personally at that point I would rather give up my life; if there were any chance at all that my son would live. My heart was being ripped apart. The Professor had told that if God so wills there would be other children once I was treated and cured. But if we insisted on my carrying the baby and should I die because of it, then that would be a life lost and the end of my generation; and that would in itself be an injustice. My husband was satisfied with the Professor’s explanation and decided that we would adopt the principles of the second Caliph of Islam, Umar Al Khattab – that we were only just moving from one fate designed by God to another one of His Will.
Yet when I felt my baby move, I knew that nobody would understand the overwhelming feeling of love that only a pregnant woman can feel. Even if I lived through all this, and if I had other children after this, each one would never be the same as my first-born. I know I was willing to die for my son. But my husband tried to console me, that by God’s grace and mercy for our patience, he believed strongly there would be others once I was well again.
And so, on that bleak Wednesday morning, we returned to the hospital.
“We have decided to save my wife. We will do as you advised Dr. Zack. We will stop the pregnancy,” he spoke softly to the doctor.
I cannot imagine how difficult it must be for my husband to say those words. We had both wanted this baby very much; he was excited when he found out it was a boy. But both of us had prayed long and hard for God to help us make this decision. We had done the ‘Istikharah’ prayer many times – a special prayer performed when in dilemma and a decision has to be made. With this prayer, we believe that this was what God had ordained for us. We both have faith that there is always a blessing behind anything that befalls us. We remain forever thankful to Him, no matter what.
Dr. Zack’s voice sounded so distant as he spoke to us. This was almost like a dream to me – a long bad dream that I could not seem to wake up from.
“We have delayed this long enough. The foetus is entering its twenty-fourth week. From now on, his growth will surely affect your health. I will refer you to the O & G department for an immediate TOP – Termination of Pregnancy.”
And so it was that my appointment for the termination procedure was set for the very next day. There was no more delaying. In retrospect, maybe that rush was a blessing in disguise too. It left me no time to think and feel the pain that gripped my heart.


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