The loss of her infant daughter led a pharmacist to a deeper and more painful understanding of the neonatal health crisis facing Pakistan—and the world.
As a pharmacist, I had the opportunity to develop policies and protocols for clinical pharmacy practices in the demanding environments of the ICU, NICU, and PICU of a tertiary care hospital, quite early in my career. The harsh reality of witnessing life at its most fragile can be overwhelming. Over time, the emotions tied to these experiences can dull, yet the memories remain seared in my heart.
In the dim lights of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), I found myself staring at the tiniest of beings, wrapped by a web of tubes and machines. Each visit rendered me emotional, more than I could readily acknowledge. Back then, I viewed these delicate souls with a certain naiveté, often uttering sympathetic phrases like “poor baby” with a heavy heart, or muttering about the tenderness of their brave little spirits. Witnessing a newborn cry would frequently bring tears to my eyes, inciting playful jests from the NICU staff. Little did I know, the true depth of this heartache would only become palpable when I faced it myself.
My journey took a moving turn during a complicated pregnancy.
When I was in the operating room, for a C-section, my heart flooded with joy at the thought of meeting my baby—a tiny human of whom I was already wholeheartedly in love. When the baby came out, they showed her to me for a few moments, she was too adorable to be real. She was observing here and there with her beautiful eyes. I immediately said: “Assalam-o-Alaikum (Peace be upon you), I love you.”
However, joy quickly turned into despair; my newly delivered daughter was whisked away to the NICU, where she was soon diagnosed with an infection. As a healthcare professional, I felt compelled to remain composed, however, my heart sank. Somehow, I was confident that my baby would be alright and would come to me the next day.
The author’s daughter, baby Zainab
The stark realization hit me that the lovely innocence I had been dreaming of was now shrouded in uncertainty. There I was, struggling to regain my footing, drawn towards the NICU with each step. Seeing my little girl—hooked to machines, lying in that incubator—shattered my heart into a million pieces. At that moment, the NICU transformed from a sterile environment into a sacred realm, where hope and despair intertwined.
Leaving the hospital without my baby felt like displacing a piece of my very soul.
Days turned into an agonizing cycle of visiting her twice daily, each visit a fleeting joy in stark contrast to the underlying agony. The NICU staff, with their compassion and expertise, were my lifeline; their dedication nourished a mother’s heart, allowing me to share in the comfort of holding my child.
Yet, the struggle was far from over. Diagnosed with Congenital Heart Disease, my daughter’s brief time in this world ended all too soon, at just four months old. The loss was searing, a soul-crushing experience that remains etched within me. Through this harrowing journey, I discovered a deeper empathy for mothers sharing a similar fate, mothers who must navigate the winding path of uncertainty and fear, desperately yearning for their child to emerge triumphant from the NICU’s embrace.
This emotional testament is not merely a reflection of my heartache but a rallying cry for broader awareness of the mothers bearing witness to this unparalleled pain. While my family was fortunate enough to afford the necessary treatments, countless other families are not so lucky, devastated by financial struggles as they watch their little angels slip away from their grasp. This reality is nothing short of cruel.
Sadly, the statistics tell a tragic story. Pakistan has one of the highest neonatal mortality rates, where 42 out of every 1,000 live births tragically result in death within the first 28 days, according to UNICEF. The lack of resources such as nutritional aid, hygienic labor practices, and adequate NICU facilities typically leaves our most vulnerable citizens—infants—at extreme risk.
In 2004, Al-Mustafa Welfare Society took a significant step by establishing a NICU facility at Al-Mustafa Hospital in Karachi. Equipped with an array of modern medical technology and staffed by dedicated professionals, it symbolizes an essential lifeline for many. However, the need for support is ever-growing and urgent.
I urge you all, especially fellow mothers, to stand with me in support of this initiative.
Together, with compassion and action, we can own the fight against the silent anguish mothers endure when separated from their children in the NICU. Let’s ensure that no mother has to bear the weight of such heart-wrenching distance from her child, and advocate for every baby to receive the care they deserve. Your support can be the beacon of hope that transforms countless families’ lives, lifting them beyond despair and into the embrace of recovery and love.
Make a donation to Al-Mustafa Welfare Society to help end the neonatal health crisis in Pakistan.
The author is a GlobalGiving Community Voices Fellow. GlobalGiving’s Community Voices fellowship aims to elevate and amplify the ideas of nonprofit partners in the GlobalGiving community. Six change leaders from Afghanistan, Nepal, Nigeria, Pakistan, Peru, and Tanzania share their perspectives on challenges affecting our world and the solutions that exist in their communities. Each leader has embarked upon the eight-month fellowship with support from GlobalGiving and The OpEd Project to elevate their underheard, yet vitally important, viewpoints. Read more from Community Voices Fellows.
Featured Photo: A mother and infant at the hospital. Neonatal health is an urgent issue in Pakistan by Getty Images.
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