Was Love Enough?

Dear Aabi

Time has been incredibly cruel since the day you closed your eyes to this world. The days seem to drag in the slowest of motion, while months pass by without you. It has been six months since that dreadful day our little doll was taken from us. Taken so suddenly that, to this moment, I have not been able to move past those horror-filled hours when life chose to betray me in the worst ways.

I witness every morning as a new day dawns and every night as darkness falls. Yet my heart, my mind, my senses, and all of me remain beside my baby girl in the hospital, holding her soft, lifeless hands, whispering in her ears as she lay still, "Mumma's right here, baby, mumma's right here!" In those moments when hope still filled my heart, I had no clue what was around the corner for me. In those moments when I saw her fight that microscopic virus, silently failing, without a complaint. In those moments when we all were waiting for her to wake up from this episode of almost nothing, taking away everything. I stay there, feeling the need to wait till eternity for my child to realise, that mumma is always and always here.

I wonder today, was my love ever enough? They say a mother's love can move mountains and change the course of the world for her child. It is supposed to be the strongest influence over nature and the universe in keeping a child safe, happy, and thriving. Yet here I stand, defeated. I stand amongst those mothers today who have laid their babies or children to rest with their own hands. I question where our love fell short and where mistakes happened that led us to endure this misfortune.

Fact check: when life decides to play its part, good or bad, factors beyond our control come into play. Love, prayers, wishes, and almost everything take a back seat. Forces unseen, unheard of, take over in brutal ways. What would work in those moments? I have been asking this question tirelessly, infinitely, since the day. What would have worked? Surprisingly, neither science, money, worship, nor love had the chance to change what was unfolding. What do we surrender to then? What do we believe in from that moment on?

Ask the world, and a hundred answers come forth: Leave it in God's hands. What's taken was never yours. Surrender to the Almighty. What you had was all you could have. You cannot change anything now. Don't spoil what is left. Something good will come your way. Many different understandings arise from people's experiences and faith. But ask a broken mother's heart, and all you will receive is silence. The world has crashed, broken into pieces that one cannot even count. The pain blurs all senses to the point where nothing matters anymore. Neither love nor anger, neither belief nor disbelief. It feels like a dark, empty tunnel with no end. Looking back, I can see light. A home where my children play, sing, and laugh together. But now I am in this tunnel, as the reality is something else, something I cannot process. The steps from that light to this darkness involved a mother witnessing her child go lifeless in her lap. Her little girl turning to ice, lying still. Her getting up to bury her baby in this Earth. That path took away not only her child but also her life. Not just breath, but life, and I am sure all would agree that life encompasses more than the breaths we take.

So, nothing matters anymore. The feeling broke me so miserably that I cannot see any value in the world that exists. The security my parents provided, the warmth from my siblings, the love of children around me, and the strength from friends, all overshadowed by the dilemma of whether anything ever matters. All the love in the world combined couldn't save my healthy, happy, and chirpy little girl. All the prayers fell on deaf ears. All the science and medicine failed in mere hours. A mother, a father, and a sister gave everything they could, and still had to watch the little one go. So, does it even matter? Does anything ever matter?

I long for some direction. They say time heals all wounds. But this is not a wound. This is an amputation. There is no healing from this. Only the continuity of life against all will. Because, simply put, we control nothing. We go as life takes us, complying with the unseen will of the unknown and unheard. While we do, love stays. It refuses to give up. The otherwise numb body feels just the love and the pain of missing. The broken heart remembers the beats that gave me life. The heartbeats that began inside me. It is only the heartbeat that probably matters.

Here I am, Aabi, remaining in those heartbeats that you had. The heartbeats that your sister's heart now echoes. Maybe love was not enough, my baby girl. I dedicate all my heartbeats to you, my child. I wish I could give you all of mine, but all I could give you was love, which was not enough. Which was just not enough!