I love my husband so much, he's the definition of true love, everything a woman could ever ask for. A perfect father to his daughter, a perfect husband to me.
Standing in the doorway of our sitting room, I stared at his sorrowful frame, my heart in pain. Is'haq was going through so much pain. Something he tried to hide anytime I was near him. Tamim's death had shattered his heart....
Tamim, my five year old daughter left this world about six months ago. She was my happiness, Is'haq's happiness. I gave birth to her exactly a year after our marriage. We loved her so much.
At fourteen months, our nightmare started. Tamim would come running to me crying, 'Momma ma and an teg', meaning, 'Momma my hand and leg'. I'll then rub chinese balm and put her to sleep. Sometimes, the pains became severe and she will cry so much, sleep evading her. After four episodes of such, we took her to the hospital. She was a child with the SS genotype, a sickle cell patient.
After the diagnosis was made, we gave her extra special attention. Is'haq always rushed home when it was time for her afternoon medications, even though it was during office hours. He kept saying it wasn't because he didn't trust me with our daughter, he just wanted to have a strong presence in her life. Tamim got used to it and will keep squealing 'My Papa's coming home' when she hears the zuhr call-to-prayer.
At three years of age, she was such a brilliant child. She will lie sprawled on the rug, her chin propped on her right hand and stare at her Papa and I. She would sing, 'I love my Mummy that's my mummy, I'll hug my mummy tight, mummy no be lie', in her tiny voice. Her Dad will mock a hurt look and say, 'Tamim don't you love me?' She will then run and climb his legs, then sing him the Barney Song, 'I love you, you love me, we are best friends like friends should be...'. Is'haq will then give us the bear hug, which made Tamim giggle. It was something she did everyday, except when she had her sickle cell crisis.
Anytime she had her crisis, Is'haq would stay with her on his laps all through. Sometimes, he'd hold I and Tamim, while we cried our hearts out. My little daughter would still manage to squeak, 'Momma and Papa, why are you crying?' We had no answer for her. The pains would make her moan in her sleep, tossing and turning all night.
My Child became a cripple at four and a half years. The doctors said she had 'avascular necrosis of the head of femur' due to the severity of her illness. I was devastated, heartbroken. Tamim's condition deteriorated. We were advised by her pediatrician to go to a renowned hospital in India for a hip replacement.
Tamim never got to use her replaced hips. We lost her a day after the surgery.
Amidst the pain of loosing our cherished daughter and the guilt of not knowing our genotype at the right time,
Is'haq and I formed a sickle cell foundation in her memory. A foundation aimed at educating intending couples, as well as having interactive sessions with survivors. Today barely a month after its creation, I notice a slight improvement in my husband's demeanor. As he said, this foundation was our gift to Tamim.
