Boys don’t cry

Laila’s baby died two weeks ago. Laila is an officemate and a close friend. It was her first baby, a honeymoon baby actually. She just got married last October and learned she was pregnant a month later. She was pretty excited about it esp. coz her husband is due to leave the cuntry, he’s a seaman. She was hoping that the next time her husband returned home, they would have the baby. There would be 3 of them. A nice start for the newlywed. It was a dream come true for them. But last Monday, we learned that she had a miscarriage so we visited her at the hospital. She learned that time that the baby was already dead inside her womb for two weeks most probably due to stress. She was having pains for the past few weeks but it went on and off so she didn’t suspected anything serious. When we went there, we saw this fetus inside a plastic bag. All that remained of a life that never was. Eyes that never opened. Fists that never unfurled. A cry never bellowed. Not even a chance. Only four months inside the womb but will sorely be missed for a lifetime. Like Carey’s recent post, nobody knows why these kinds of things happen but we could only hope that those babies are in a better place, angels looking down at us.

Another thing that bothered me while this whole thing happened was that, I never shed a single tear. Actually, I was teary-eyed when we were on the way to the hospital but for the sake of acting strong for Laila, I tried to prevent those tears from falling. Because I know once I cry I have difficulty stopping, and I cry easily even with the slightest stimulus. That night when I was alone in my room, I allowed myself to cry. But the tears never fell. And I’m afraid that the unspilt tears have lumped into an egg and that it left my eyes and comfortably settled down my crotch.