She was here – finally here – the little one who looked like my dad and my brother initially. Hands and feet were like my dad’s, even the chin and the expression – it was as if my dad had been born, again. The eyes were a mixture between Salah’s and mine, the nose was really Salah’s. She had bigger nostrils than we do have in Europe, to be able to breathe better – in every case “not the European standard”.
Regarding my stay in hospital I was only able to say: it was dirty, no warm water, one night NO water at all, because they were building and renovating the whole hospital during my stay there. They have had beautiful paving tiles but hey, did anyone think how dangerous it was when slipping on shiny tiles? However – it looked like state of the art…
Talking abt tiles: we had the same story at Zurich Main station – there they had shiny tiles – made of granite – it looked so beautiful – yet after several accidents and people who complained – the headquarters of the station agreed on abrasion – i.e. the glossy finishing was then matt. I was only asking myself: HOSPITAL? Accidents? Ok – at least you are already in a hospital… sorry for my sarcasm…
In all bathrooms there was such filth – you can never imagine… They left bloody towels there fm operations and dried bread in a BATHROOM!!! Cockroaches were running around – no, not big ones – little ones… we called them Samir, i.e. we named them like: Samir one – Samir two. They were crawling around everywhere; on curtains, walls, on the floor. PUKE – however – we were 6 women in one room – the hospital was fully booked – even overbooked. They had 18 rooms (18 X 6 =) 108 women average. They had a special section for Hepatitis. We (i.e. the “healthy” women) were not allowed to go there. In our room there was an elderly lady who helped me with my daughter. Actually all helped me – it was such a great feeling with them – like friends. Yet I was the only one with a caesarean. Was not allowed to lift anything not even Athana and also not allowed to walk fast that would lead to opening the scar. However – we had too many women in our room, who came to see Athana. Almost all kissed her and said: “helo halba (= very pretty) or gnaina (= beautiful) and looked at her in a deeply moved way. In the initial I felt rather bothered, yet at the end I somehow understood that I have to share her and true – till today – I have to share her…
In addition all came there to tell me that I had “to produce” a second one… Sure – I thought so too – a single child will be spoiled, mostly. I know very few exceptions to the rule
Yet – I left this decision to God.
The first night was hell, my daughter nearly died. She almost choked – the nurse Haluma luckily came in to fix my drip – yet it was not the usual timing – it was as if she had been the guardian angel. I had woken up just at the same time because I felt sth wrong and she just entered the room… GOD’s ways… I told her in my English – pls – she cannot breathe. Haluma tried everything – Athana did not breathe. She then took the kid out of the cradle and ran downstairs to the children hospital section. After half an hour she came back – Athana was alive – I was so relieved! After this incident I just swore to myself to get healthy the soonest possible. I would have never forgiven myself if something like that happened, again. I was not even fully there – cause I had heavy tranquilizers and pain injections – so I just said shukran shezilan and that was it… The next day Haluma was off, naturally – after her night shift. It had always been like that in the El Chadra Hospital: last shift was night shift. The day after she was back – day shift – the first thing she did, was coming to our room – took Athana out and kissed her. It was really weird how all were so much in love with my daughter… however – she has a lot of hearts to give to all yet… She can also be a little naughty devil – oh my…
Then Salah’s family came – one by one – first Kerima. She gave Athana her first earrings, when she took her up she started crying. Salah asked her bluntly and dryly: “why do you cry?” She said no child had ever moved her that way… Salah ranted: “these earrings – should someone hurt the little one I will……” However she would have her injections before leaving hospital – i.e. polio – hepatitis and the third one I have forgotten – they called it CBC there.
In Libya you learn to pray. Before the operation I had said to God: I put myself in your hands. What else could/should I do? We really never know what God has in store for us i.e. in advance…
I knew that Salah was unable to be alone at home – so he slept many times either in the car in the parking lot of the hospital or on a bench near the reception desk.
Before the operation his mother finally succeeded to get a bed in hospital because of bribing a nurse. She had been waiting till the birth process was over and then had washed Athana, pampered, given milk and dressed. Still till today I think Salah overdid it. When I checked out – he had a friend of Nurheddin coming along – that doctor made all the check-out papers and did also organize vitamins and other stuff.
I had written a letter to my gynaecologist: Dear Sir – (I have a problem with titles) Thank you so much what you have done for the little one and for me. Words can hardly describe how much I feel. Please know that those who have decided to take the path of God sometimes have to stand the hardest times, because not all around us do approve or understand why we have taken a certain decision. (That sentence was the conclusion of an incident, which I will write after having told you the rest of the letter). Please also know that doctors like you are rarer and more precious than the rarest naturally grown pearls on Earth! Please go your way / walk your path and never ever hesitate! Please also understand and do not get me wrongly, yet I felt as if you were like my father when I stayed in hospital. You strengthened me before the operation and told me abt the coming pain. GOD SHALL BE WITH YOU ON EVERY STEP OF YOUR LIFE & GOD BLESS YOU – with this I signed the letter
Of course I made a copy – which now “resides” in Libya in a file with all photos, papers, birth documents etc…
The sentence regarding the path of God had a story: we had a woman in our room, she was in severe pain. She was pregnant with a child – who was unable to survive. The baby was not only disabled but also brain-damaged. Dr. Mustafa knew this very well, he was feeling helpless because of the baby and also because of that young woman, he thought „worst case scenario“: i.e. I will lose both… Since I have a way with all people having problems, they all confess to me – no matter who they are/were he told me that off his chest… Actually he had offered her an abortion – yet the darling woman did not wish for that. She wanted to stay in that hospital and wait – even with an early birth; i.e. carry the child to a certain time and then having a cesarean. He was so despaired, he nearly cried: “She refuses even the treatment; she does not give an inch. I think I am going to lose her!” Of course I did not really get that abortion thingy – because I had grown up as a Roman Catholic and for that “sort of belief” it was out of question to go for an abortion. Yet God’s decision came the same night: She suddenly was in labor – and went to intensive care. There she bore the deformed fetus, the child was dead. The next day “my” doctor was so relieved. I only said: „You see? Even God has agreed with you in this special case. “ He humbly hung his head, only and whispered: “Thank you very much”. Then he disappeared.
Later that day – that woman came to me and confessed the baby was dead. Of course it was my check-out day so I only hugged her and said: “You are a very beautiful woman and you will have a very sweet daughter, one like mine.” Then she was very happy and consoled. Of course it did not work the way she had wished for – yet GOD is merciful!
Well – Check-Out-Day: Injection-Day for Athana; what a torture! They gave her that three-in-one thingy and she was bawling her eyes out. I could not stand it, I nearly cried as well – it was as if they killed her. However she needed these papers for the next injections. That would be the case in abt a month. Of course that would pass – yet she was unaware of that kind of pain and it was heart-breaking to hear her crying like that.

However – we were on our way home.