Seikhlas Clouds Accompany Rain

Still can't take your shadow off

The woman who still looked limp on the bed seemed to be stuck looking at the window of the ward glass, where from her position she was only able to see the sky with white clouds that moved slowly when blown by the wind.

Giving birth to a child should be the most special moment for her as a new mother, right? Which of course, can not be separated from the male figure, with facial water is no less enthusiastic while fondling their babies.

In fact, all of that he could not feel right now. There is no most painful situation, but when the husband is gone, and when he has to give birth to himself without his shady figure.

Qonni had been trying ever since he entered the operating room, not to cry. However, at this time when the pain of the cesarean wound began to throb due to the increasingly disappearing anesthetic drugs. The woman in the grey hijab slightly held her tears of pain. It was as if there was nothing capable of alleviating his current pain other than a warm touch as a tranquilizer from the hands of the husband he so desperately longed for.

A soft caress on his head made him turn to the woman who had been faithful since the beginning of his arrival to the hospital.

"Would you like a drink, Nduk?" Aida asked meekly.

"Later on, Mom," he replied softly while grimacing occasionally.

"Why? Starts Sick, huh?"

"Iyaaaa," Qonni took a stand with his eyes increasingly brooding.

"That's Far, Nduk." Aida tries to calm Qonni down who starts whining.

"Astaghfirullah al'azim, O Allah... Aa–," he murmured softly in the midst of the growing pain. She clutched the iron of the bed, imagining her husband's face, which she hoped was on her side at the moment. "Lt!"

Aida who heard Qonni kept calling her husband with sobs, shed tears again. Until a gentle kiss landed long enough on Qonni's wet cheek.

"Patience, Nduk. Istighfar aja, yes. Don't remember what's gonna make you feel sick." Aida wiped the tears in both eyes of her daughter. "Eagerness, Nduk. For your son..."

The woman again beristighfar along with a breath and also a slow gust that makes it back rigid.

A split second later, Ummi Nur and Ning Maulida came. Seen the face of haru mixed with sadness adorning middle-aged women who rushed to his daughter-in-law while crying sobbing, then kissed her many times.

"Allahuakbar, Allahuakbar, Allahuakbar!" muttered Ummi Nur with a hoarse voice because it was mixed with tears hugging Qonni's body. "Oh my God, thank you, son. Thank you for fighting to give birth to Aaron's son. Ummi, I'm sorry, honey. Forgive Ummi for coming."

The woman who was still enduring her pain just nodded slowly. Her pale lips were trying to paint a smile for a woman she respected like Aida's mother. Although it must be mixed with very heavy tears flooding both cheeks.

The atmosphere of haru enveloped the first classroom that was intended for the mother to give birth to it. Where none of them did not feel the pain of Qonniah's heart as it struggled to bear a child without Aaron at his side.

Indeed, no one can know the picture of the future. Everyone expects everything to be okay. In fact, God gives another way in the midst of enthusiasm to welcome the arrival of the little one. And if the destiny line has been determined, no one can resist it even just to avoid it.

🌸🌸🌸

Just this afternoon Qonni left the hospital. Ummi Nur also just a few minutes ago say goodbye home. And promised to come again tomorrow afternoon after teaching.

This afternoon, after the baby girl he had not had time to name it was bathed by Mother Aida. He suckled her near the bed.

Qonni's hand was shaking the phone on the nightstand. Hurry he opens the chat application, and presses the starry message. The place where important messages are stored. There are so many recordings of Voice note Aaron that he accidentally pinned since the figure of the shady man died. The goal, of course, is to make it easier if she wants to hear her husband's voice again. One of the most he listened to was the sholawat Jibril, which he chanted while out of town a few months before his death.

"Take mimi, while listening to Abi's voice, yes, son." Qonni smiled bitterly, before pressing the play sign until Aaron's voice could be heard again.

One of his hands patted his daughter's buttocks gently, his lips also hummed following the sholawat chant of the man who always made her fall in love every day. While his eyes pointed at the window in his room that began to dark with a tinge of orange sky in the afternoon. Remembering how short the love bloomed in his heart and Aaron. Then, just break it.

Cklaaafck!

As the door opened, Aida appeared carrying a tray of food before a long sigh as she learned of the dim situation in the room.

"Why aren't the lights on, Nduk? The curtains are not closed either. No way, loh sandekala gini still open curtains. There's a baby." Aida hastened to turn on the room lights, then closed the curtains that are still in the face of her daughter. Then they approached the two of them on the bed. "Well, have you had lunch, not yet? You can't have dinner."

Qonni flinching, the habit of his mother who still believes in kejawen custom never makes him feel constrained. He still respects. Although for her as a woman born in the modern era, her mother's beliefs are very unreasonable.

"Here, let's have a fat mom. You eat first, yes. That's my mom ready for food." Aida immediately held her grandson with water loving face, and the typical babbling grandmother who was fondling grandchildren.

On the table, there is rice, one bowl of clear vegetables katuk, two boiled eggs, one piece of tofu, and two pieces of tempeh which is only boiled with yellow seasoning.

"Eating that, a lot. Habisin also clear vegetables let your ASI a lot," he said before smelling the sweet cheeks typical of babies, while occasionally laughing happy to see a cute face that fell asleep soundly in a long cloth.

Again Qonni did not answer, other than approaching the table in the corner of the room and sitting on the chair where the food was in session. While reciting the basmalah, the woman began to reach for the spoon that was lying face down on the side of the plate ready to eat.

Although in a state of no taste, and for the sake of ASI which must be accommodated a lot, Qonni had to force the food into his mouth.

"Qonni, what name would your son give you?"

Just about to put the rice in his mouth, he had already uncoated it. Back down the spoon filled with rice from his hands, before turning to the face of Aaron who was in the picture frame. Then he looked down before shaking slowly.

"Loh, so you're not ready to name him yet, Nduk?"

"No, ma'am," he replied softly which made his throat again choked at this time.

"Geez, the grandson of Mbah Uti has not been given a name? Kasian once–" he murmured as he continued to fondle Qonni's son. "Let's have Daddy with a mother who gave me a name, huh? Or if not later asked to Bu Nyai Nur. Once he had a name. Kasian loh, your son will be extinct." (Switch in Central Java belief is when the rest of the umbilical cord that is still attached to the navel is completely detached.)

"Yes, Mom. Qonni just take it." The woman immediately continued her delayed meal.

I'm sorry, but I don't want to give a name to our son. But it hurts so much for me to give a name alone.

Aida sighed, no longer knowing what to answer, or doing things that could make her daughter return to the spirit of living life. The slender woman was the head bobble.