Deeply in Love

Diana Al-Alawneh
Jordan
ESOL 400
Spring 2008

“Good morning, sweetheart; how are you feeling today?” my husband whispered.
“I’m fine. It’s just that the baby was kicking all night,” I said. “Try to get some sleep,
I have to go to work now,” my husband said.

It was a beautiful sunny morning of October, 2008. I looked at my son Baker. He was deeply sleeping. I covered him with a blanket and went to the kitchen. “Oh, breakfast is ready,” I whispered to myself. My husband prepared it before he went to work. He is indeed a wonderful man. After I finished eating, I got up and started looking in the mirror as usual, measuring my belly. “Wow, the baby is growing very fast!” I said to myself. At that time, I was 8 months pregnant, and I was feeling very heavy and tired. I took my cup of coffee and looked at an album of pictures that I found near the couch. I think my husband had left it there. I stopped at a picture of my father hugging my mom. My mom looked very tired and pale. I stared at the
picture for a while; I remember those days; it was a horrible time.

I was 9 years old when my mom was six and a half months pregnant. I came back from school; it was a hot summer day. “Hi, Diana. How was your school?” my mom asked. “As usual,” I answered. “How do you feel, mom? Do you still feel dizzy?” I asked. “Oh baby, don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine,” she answered. “Are you going to see the doctor today?” I asked. “Yes dear, I have some tests to do. Now go and change before your father comes from work,” my mother rushed me. I smiled and went to my room to change. I was taking off my uniform when my father arrived, and I heard him whispering to my mom, “How do you feel sweetheart?” “I think something is wrong with me; this pregnancy is very hard, and I keep feeling dizzy,” my mom answered. “But isn’t that how you’re suppose to feel?” my father wondered. “Yes, but not at six and a half months,” my mom answered.

I remember that week my mom went to the hospital three times, but the fourth time was different. I woke up in the middle of the night at the sound of my father making a phone call. I jumped out of the bed, and I saw my father rushing to the bedroom. He was very worried; I ran to my mom’s room, where she was lying without any motion, and blood was running from her nose. I will never forget that moment when my father looked at me with teary eyes. “I’ll take your mom to the hospital now, and I asked your aunt to come and spend the day with you and your brother.” At that moment, I started crying. “Is mom going to be all right?” I asked. My father hugged me and said, “Your mom is a strong wonderful woman, and with that big heart she can beat anything.”

I heard the door bill ringing. “Hi, Omar. How are you? Where is Diana? I missed you guys,” my aunt said. “She is in her room crying,” my brother answered. I hated him for that because I don’t like anyone to see me crying, but she was my mom and I would give up my soul for her. I washed away my tears and went out to say hi. My aunt hugged me and assured me that everything would be fine. I asked her if I could go to Dana’s house. She was and is my best friend, and I knew she was the only one who could make me feel better.

I came back home when my aunt was on the phone talking to my dad. It seemed that my mother’s platelets were very low and her body was rejecting the baby and considering it a foreign body, and that caused the immune system to produce a large number of antibodies. Of course, at that age I didn’t know that, but after I grew up, my mom told us what had happened. The doctors recommended surgery to remove the baby, but the condition of my mom’s blood did not allow them to perform the surgery. First, they kept trying, but every time they
gave her platelets, the number went down. At that time, a doctor named Hani heard of my mother’s condition, and he was an expert in platelets and the ABO system (the blood type system). He talked to my mom and dad and explained to them what he was about to do, and that it might fail. My mom approved, but my father was very worried. My mom asked the doctor with a worried tone, “What about my baby? The doctors told me that there is a chance that he might not survive!” “It’s all in the hands of God, but I promise to do my best,” the
doctor said.

It was the night before the day of the operation and we were all gathered in mom’s room, and my father was holding one of her hands while I was holding the other hand. She kissed me and looked at my father. “my kids are part of my soul, please take good care of them,” my mom said. My father said nothing. He kept looking into her eyes.

Dr Hani extracted a large number of platelets from a horse’s blood and inserted the whole amount into mom’s blood system, and then he immediately rushed her to the operating room and took the baby out. The surgery went just fine and everything was good. The baby was healthy and adorable. “Mom, what is his name?” I asked. “Hani,” my father answered with a big smile on his face. He held my mom’s hand and looked at her “Mariana, you are a wonderful woman, and I love you more than anyone ever loved someone in this world.”

“Mama.” I looked up and there was my son Baker; I hugged him so hard. When he looked at the picture in my hands and started screaming, “Grandma, Grandma,” I couldn’t keep myself from crying and thanking my God for giving me such a wonderful family. A month later, I had a baby girl. She is very beautiful, and her name is Mariana.

I really miss my mom and dad and I can’t wait for the summer to come so I can go and visit them back in Jordan.