Issa family of “five” – well sort of…

I am a mother of 3 beautiful children. I know you only see two here and all over my feed, but I promise I am. You would not know that by looking at me, because one of them is heaven. His life was just a few short breaths that he took in our arms before we had to say goodbye to him forever. It all happened so fast. I woke up in a pool of blood on Monday morning, was placed on bed rest and by Thursday night, my body went into labor. When I delivered Zachariah Liam on Friday afternoon, he was 22 weeks 6 days old. The team of physicians that consulted with us did not want us to intervene. Had he been born 24 hours later; it might have been a discussion. Even though he was just here for an hour or so, he is my second born.

I still have a hard time visualizing his little nose and lips because the drugs pumping through my body at the time were strong and they lingered for a while. I can remember the feeling of wishing I had more time. I wanted to have the strength to hold him longer, I had lost a lot of blood. Where was the Saima that fights until the end, how could I be so weak? I felt like I had failed him. I wondered why my body had given up on this pregnancy. This was the same body that ran a half marathon and allowed me to work out until the end with my daughter. My son was taking his last breaths and I wasn’t coherent enough to say goodbye. How could this be happening to me? I still have not come to terms with our goodbye. I wish I had more clarity at that moment. I wish it were different.

Sometimes I want to share this story with everyone I meet. I want to scream it out loud and I want everyone to know my pain. I want them to know there is more to me than what you see right now. I want them to know there’s a big part of me that you’ll never know, someone is missing from this pretty little picture you see right now. My existence and identity are forever tied to this little angel who none of you will ever get to meet. He is a sweet little angel baby who is watching over all of us.

It did not always feel like this. For the first two years, I rarely shared with anyone. Most people did not push to hear the whole story and I was never one to voluntarily bring it up. It was often on the tip of my tongue, but I did not really know what words to say. I could take you through the play by play of what happened that week. But I could never really formulate the words “I lost my son.” I still struggle with it. I still have a hard time with the whole thing. Still, I’m better than I was two years ago. Finally getting myself into therapy and processing my trauma helped a lot. I needed it for sure. Instead of telling people what was going on with me, I often lashed out at loved ones or completely avoided them altogether. I had trouble bonding with my nieces and nephews. I had a lot of missed opportunities. It was hard.

What helped was the people who stood by my side unwavering and consistently. They showed up. They never flinched. When I was having my worst moments, they were able to see through them. My husband and I were at each other’s throats a lot. It was tumultuous. We had days where he said, “I cannot do this anymore.” I would say, “ I’m still grieving, and you have to be patient.” He was. We stayed committed to overcoming this season. I did not know how or when it was going to end. At some point, I just felt better. I had been in therapy for about 3 months and I felt the shift. I just knew I was better and I was ready to handle the pain differently.

I am not the same person I was in 2016. Zachariah has molded me, made me stronger, and showed me how vulnerable I can be. He has changed my perspective on grief, death, and living in the moment. His absence in this world is my everyday reminder that life is short and precious.

Although he is the catalyst to my emotional growth, I cannot thank him every day like I want to. I can not hug him every day like I long to. I can not talk to him about his impact on me. I feel alone when I want to explain this to someone. My husband listens, my therapist validates and my family supports me. However, I still feel the loss of building a meaningful connection with this soul on earth. So, when you see me hugging my kids 5 seconds too long at every drop off its because I know how blessed I am to be able to do that.

The possibilities of what could have been are everlasting. I guess love is everlasting, so I’ll never stop missing him. I will never stop feeling bummed about all the moments that could have been. I have learned that love is not always something you say or hold in your hands. Its something that lives in your heart and connects you to other beings. I know I am not alone in this journey and there are so many moms out there like me. We are all walking in each other’s light. We lift each other up and give moms like us a safe place to survive.

To the moms who do not know what to say. I often felt alone in this journey because you knew but you did not ask. I want you to know – its ok to ask about the loss. Talking about our angels helps us feel connected to them and reminds us they exist. They have not disappeared. They live on in our hearts and we want to celebrate their lives. Our other kids know all about it and they can handle it. They are lucky to have an angel watching over them. We need other moms to care. Pretending like nothing happened is probably the one thing you should not do.

I know we all go through different things and we all have different circumstances. There is a lot of pain floating between us. If you are a mom who has been hurt by someone through this process, remember you are not alone. Although someone has not validated your journey, there is another mom who will. We are all seeking something from this experience. I’m thinking about all of us mommas who do our best to show up in life. All of us who have had some bumps along the way and all of us that still find ourselves trying to be the best versions of ourselves. I really hope that everyone who reads this realizes they are not alone. There is someone out there who has your back and there for you.

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