Princess Sarata
By Mamady Deen ballo
Sarata Dunya Ballo
That’s what I was going to name her
She was my princess, I felt an immense amount of love when I found out. When I told her dad, he was shocked he couldn’t believe he was having his first baby.
His exact words were, “My baby is having our baby.”
He couldn’t believe it. He told me to go to the hospital to make sure.
My cousin, Ashley and I went. We found out that I was 1 month pregnant and I didn’t know.
I was shocked. How was I going to break the news to my mom. I was in my second year of college.I had never thought about how I would balance motherhood and being in college or how I was going to do everything without my husband being with me in the U.S. as he lived in the Ivory Coast.
I was scared but excited. I got dressed and went home.
I told my sister first, she was scared but excited.
The person I was scared to break the news to was my mom, she was always strict and very honest with me.
She responded, “I already knew. Ever since you came back from Ivory Coast you always ate and slept earlier than before.”
She told me she refused to babysit. I finally felt relief because of her positive response.
My dad is a simple and laid back man. Culturally, a woman never told her father that she was pregnant, he just saw, so I wasn’t worried he was going to find out eventually.
Months passed. I went to appointments and watched as she kept growing and developing.
I was so nervous, but amazed that I had a person growing inside me that would be half her father and half me.
I would eat so much, but still be hungry 5 minutes later.
People were so happy and amazed with how I coped with producing a life and was still being me. I got away with everything from my family to my husband. At home, I could sleep on the couch or have things carried for me; my husband gave daily phone calls or texts to check in on the baby; when I was out, people would give up their seat on the train for me.
Her dad would be so excited to get videos and see her every morning.
I would pray for her, read the Quran to her, read her book A Home for a Bunny, and take my prenatal vitamins.
On my 3 month pregnancy mark, I went to a doctors appointment that changed everything.
It started as a regular appointment, but things quickly went wrong. My ObGyn did my exam but couldn’t find a heartbeat for her.
“Okay, I’m going to send you to the hospital to get an ultrasound.”
I immediately knew something was wrong.
The doctor did the ultrasound exam, but she called in multiple other sonogram doctors. I asked for a sonogram, which when you are far along you are able to do so, and when she said she couldn’t give it to me. I went home and...
I got a call the next morning that it was missed miscarriage, when a baby stops developing but the mother does not physically miscarry, and I would have to go to the hospital to confirm.
I cried, in my cry I yelled and walked over to my mom to tell her the news.
At the hospital, they gave me Misoprostol pills, which induces labor in cases of missed miscarriages. The pills were supposed to work immediately after, evidenced by intense bleeding, cramping, and pain but she didn’t come out so as it was miscarriage but the baby didn’t want to come out so I was still pregnant.
Minutes later she started moving which was not supposed to happen.
I went home and went straight to bed, me and my mom didn’t speak about it. We did as told and wanted to see what would happen. My follow up with my doctor was another week away. My mom always says Allah does things for a reason so we must trust him. My mom woke me up at 2am because she couldn't sleep and was scared.
We went back to the hospital because the medication didn’t do anything. We didn’t want it to cause problems for me or the baby and that’s when they did another ultrasound.
“We found a heartbeat and she’s fine, but not very strong.”
I was confused and scared. First, you told me I lost my child and now, she is fine and has a heartbeat but not very strong.
How could that happen and why was it happening, like what.
All I could think of was how was I going to explain this to my husband, after telling him the bad news of losing her, that she was back.
When I finally told him, he was excited but worried. The news was confusing, but a second chance at the baby we already fell in love with.
Now 5 months into my pregnancy mark, this is when I found out she was a girl. I thought of names until I finally found the perfect one Sarata Dunya Ballo.
Sarata is my mom’s name, Dunya meaning “the world” in Islam, and Ballo our last name.
My husband disagreed.
He wanted to name her after his mom. His mother only had one person named after her and he would love his first daughter to be named after her.
I wanted my mom because my mom is the most important person to me. This would be her first grandchild, she planned to be in the delivery room and we would share a bond that her and my siblings would not be able to.
The conversations of us deciding took weeks before he eventually gave in.
My mom didn’t have any idea the baby would be named after her because normally your husband would choose the name of the children, so naming her after my mom was going to be special and she would’ve loved it.
When I showed up for my appointment 2 days later, the doctor confirmed that she had no heartbeat. She was moving in my belly, but had no heartbeat.
My husband was in the loop of everything and I had to tell him the sad news again that we lost her.
I got the Misoprostol again but again she didn’t come out.
After two unsuccessful attempts at inducing labor with Misoprostol, I decided to get the D&C operation.
The procedure took 30 minutes.
I had never cried so much because of physical pain, my body hurt, and the amount of blood that I had lost was like the water in a pool.
I went home the same day in so much pain.
My heart had been shattered into a million pieces and I never thought I would ever experience that. My goals and dreams for our family were crushed as my body and mouth became numb to pain.
My husband's words of comfort helped a little, but I missed his physical presence and did not want to scare him with the reality of my pain.
I didn’t take any of the pain medication I was given.
I took the pain of losing her day by day. Most days, tears came just processing the loss of a piece of me, and then just smiles another day. Physically, my body recovered, but emotionally I continued to struggle.
I continue to today.
I lost someone I prepared for and was so excited for.
Even something as relatively small as just naming her after my mom.
I felt I was starting my legacy and I lost that part of me that I don’t think I will ever be able to regain.
I thought it was my fault and I thought back to all of the things that I did, examining and regretting so many moments, hoping for a reprieve I never found.
I turned to no one, just myself initially, and eventually opened up to my husband and finally told him how I felt. He did what he could to be there for me emotionally, but could not be physically due to the distance.
6 months later and I still feel hurt.
I am still in pain. I question my ability to conceive another child so often.
My husband reminds me that I could still have kids. Jokingly, he tells me that I will have so many kids that every other year I’m pregnant people will question it.
Those little words of his put a smile on my face right away and placed my fears on hold.
I try to remember that Allah has a plan for everything and my time to be a mother will come.
I will never forget my princess and can’t wait to hold her little brother or sister when it is my time.
Sarata Dunya Ballo will always have a place in my heart, my 1st princess and the best pregnancy I could dream of.
