She’s not supposed to be here, but oh yes, she is. Babies who had grown in her mother’s womb had died during their births. Three of them passed through just the year before. As a seed she had been planted in what was deemed unprepared soil. Her mother had not yet been considered healed, physically and emotionally. Her father still struggling to accept that his inability to sooth a pain that he had not been spared did not make his manliness questionable. Still, she grew.
With each passing week her parents convinced themselves to be hopeful. They re-acquainted themselves with prayer and often had internal conversations with God. There were skipped heartbeats and body sensitivity that made sleeping at night an almost impossible task. Family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and those who only knew of part of their story interceded on behalf of parents still carrying the residue of past misses on their shoulders. All the while she continued to grow.
At six months and formed to resemble herself in ultrasounds, they said she was underweight, but steady. Some sighed relief while her mother still guzzled from the glass of hope three times a day. Then her mother heard a voice tell her, “She will be born and no matter when that is, she will be fine.” Not sure if her right mind still prevailed, aloud she asked, “Is that you God?” Then she recalled a sermon that taught her time and manifestation will reveal a false prophet. But something stirred in her that night. Maybe it was the growth in her belly, but it overwhelmed her with peace and finally mommy was able to close her eyes and rest for the night.
November 15th, at 4:44PM Saadiya Smith, still in her water sac, barreled through and left her mother’s womb. Mommy’s placenta had ruptured and the sac was stained with a bowl movement that possibly entered the child’s lungs. Her father described her as blue, almost purple and she looked to be sleeping. She was not breathing, but she was at rest, peaceful. Maybe God whispered to her what we could not hear. But maybe the doctor who refused to let her die heard. “We will not lose her.”
Today, Saadiya is 5 months old. She kicks, she screams, eats, poops, turns over, and best of all, she laughs. Happy 5 Month Birthday Saadiya! You are my hero, our love, our trust, our hope resurrected.