Doctor Zungu had dealt with many patients in her life before, but she'd never ever had a patient with a heartbreaking story like Zahara's. After countless appointments with this woman, she had sworn that she'd never met a happier couple. After years of trying for a baby, it was a miracle that the couple finally fell pregnant.
She still remembered the day they found out that Zahara was pregnant, she would never forget the love and pride she saw in Mr Thompson's eyes. The image haunted her mind as it was the same look she saw every time they came for a scan, until that one traumatising day when things took an unexpected turn. It was and would always be, in her eyes, the ultimate tragedy.
Zahara went into labour, but unfortunately, her baby was stillborn. Her husband had been with her throughout the labour, and he was with her when they all waited to hear the baby's cry, which never came. Mr Thompson was thrown off the wall and left the hospital devastated, more especially after his wife had an episode and was fighting for her life. He couldn't handle the thought of losing his wife too after losing their newborn baby.
While the doctors were trying to save Zahara, he left the hospital, and by the time Zahara woke up, he was not by her side. She waited and waited at the hospital for days, but there was no sign of him. That was until later one day, she had a visit from the South African Police Services, and they told her that her husband was in a car accident and that he was no more. Her husband had died on the same day as their child and that was the only thing that she could think of; she lost both her husband and baby on the same day.
That was the last time the doctor ever heard the woman speak, and was shocked to find out that she had never recovered from her trauma as she stood in front of her now.
Her eyes shifted to the baby in the basket, and as if reading her thoughts, Zahara stilled. "Whose baby is this?" The doctor asked bluntly and bit her cheek. "I mean..." She sighed and ran her hand through her dreadlocks. "What are you doing at the police station with a baby?" She asked softly and Zahara sighed.
In their five minutes reunion, Zahara had come to learn that Dr Zungu did not understand sign language, so she took out her iPad and typed up the whole story. After reading the message, the doctor took Zahara into the police station and tried to get the officers to help, but to no avail, so she was forced to pull out the big guns- her husband.
Dr Zungu's husband was the police commissioner at the station, so she urged him to help, and almost laughed at the looks on the officers' faces.
They processed everything, and the commissioner asked Zahara to keep the baby for a few days because their systems were messed up and the people at social services took their own sweet time to assist others.
Hesitantly, Zahara agreed, and then the doctor walked her to her car. Zahara stripped the baby in the children's chair at the back and closed the door before moving to the driver's side.
The doctor stood awkwardly and wet her lips before speaking, her eyes filled with guilt. "Listen, I want to apologise to you for everything that's happened to you. I mean, I should have noticed earlier that there was something wrong with the baby. It is all my fault and I am sorry, if it wasn't for me, your child and husband would still be alive." She said, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes.
Zahara shook her head in disapproval; she did not blame the doctor for anything and she wanted to tell her that, and somehow her need to open her mouth shocked her.
She sighed and handed the woman a tissue. "I don't blame you for anything, you don't have to beat your self up because of everything that's happened. It was tragic and it still hurts, but there's still a part of me that is grateful for all the time I got to spend with my husband, and the life we created. I am glad that I got to carry that child after 10 years of emptiness. She was the best thing that's ever happened to me and my husband, and we raised her together for nine months – it was short, but it was worth it, and I'm thankful to God that he at least gave me that little time with reassuring kicks letting me know that there's indeed a life inside of me."
The doctor watched in fascination as Zahara's hands moved, and Zahara did not care that at that moment, the doctor did not understand anything she was saying; all she felt was relief washing over her as she finally felt the weight lift off her shoulders. It was an impulsive reaction, but within a span of seconds, she had accepted her loss.
The doctor fished out something from her bag and handed it to Zahara. Zahara stared at the card in her hand as her eyes raked over the words. "That's my friend, Dr Masuku; he is a speech therapist and I think he can help you." The doctor said. "I know it is not my place, Mrs Thompson, but you can't live in grief forever. You need to move on and start afresh; get your voice back so that you can stand up for yourself, and who knows? Maybe you might want to sing a lullaby to this little angel someday." The doctor smiled, and Zahara's eyes shifted between the card and the baby in the backseat.
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Cerita Pendek"Have you ever felt trapped and suffocated? Have you ever felt like you can't breathe but you hold on to that last breath with the hope that someday something is going to come up and make you feel whole again?" When tragedy strikes, a woman turns to...
