A day after
Christmas, I was awakened at 8 AM by the buzz of my mobile phone beside my
pillow. The text message came from my neighbor and friend who thanked me for
the Christmas presents I made for her and Sara, her six year old daughter. She
also informed me that she just gave birth to a baby girl. What joyful news! I
can’t wait for them to be home and meet the new baby girl. I was already
thinking of the day she’ll celebrate her first birthday. It would be two days
of celebration, on Christmas Day, the birthday of Jesus and then a day after
that would be her birthday. What fun to be born on this day!
Some 8 months
ago when my friend’s pregnancy was confirmed by ultrasound, she came to the house
glowing with happiness to inform me. My kids and I were elated!
When I’d be
home, I’d see her go about her pregnancy. The first months were difficult but
while the baby grew in her womb she became fuller and more active. Therese, my
granddaughter would play with Sara in their house and eat lunch there during
Sundays while I’d concentrate on writing.
Life was focused
on that baby as she worked and did household chores. As her pregnancy
progressed I’ve never seen them so content as a family. A week before Christmas
tiny baby clothes filled their clothesline. She was preparing for the baby.
When her newborn
was a day old, I wanted to know how they were. I sent a text message and she
replied that her baby has pneumonia and was at the intensive care unit. She’d
been asking for prayers. In my own way, I prayed for the baby to get well and
come home soon. We had been all eager for them to be home.
After four days
in the hospital, the baby came home in her tiny white coffin, so pure and still.
Her eyes were like a doll’s who had been put to sleep so carefully by a child.
Those miniature cheeks, lips, nose, and thick black hair were perfectly made by
her Creator. She looked like an angel in repose but more pristine, more
innocent and more beautiful. You’d start
to ask why, how or what should have been done, only to realize that regardless of
the answers, she is a distinguished light never to be reignited. And I even
haven’t held her, warm and squirming.
I have
experienced the deaths of relatives several times but they were old and have
lived their lives. I had signed some death certificates of unattended baby
deaths but I haven’t felt like this. Maybe because this baby was what we all
have been waiting for. She would have been my granddaughter’s future playmate
and would take the role of younger sib. I’d been envisioning her mom sun
bathing her in the early sunshine and I was looking forward to her christening.
Since we’re neighbors and friends, maybe, I thought I’d be awakened one night
when she’ll cut her first tooth and have fever. Most of all, I was hoping to experience
the joy of carrying and smelling a baby once again reminding me of the joys of
rocking my kids to sleep when they were tiny tots. And my children were excited too.
Today had been
her burial. With tears, we stood there in the bright cool morning sunshine of
this 30th day of December listening to the Pastor conduct the last
rites. It felt so unbelievable! My mind
was wondering how she had contacted pneumonia that killed her. And that
question most of us ask, “Why should it have been her?” There are many women
with a lot of kids, while this baby was one of only two children. Then, they
lifted the lid of her coffin one last time. I caught sight of a tiny lesion near
the right corner of her mouth where the oxygen tube had been taped. My gaze caught
a glimpse of a shy and happy smile, much like that smile which makes mothers
enormously happy when their baby is contentedly asleep after breastfeeding. It
dawned on me that this baby, aptly named Samantha Grace, had been specifically
chosen by her Creator to play forever in paradise. And somehow it lightens the
ache whenever I think of that smile and that paradise where she is now.
