Sense of Sense

Sapphira's Fear

Ashqar was quite surprised by Safira's rejection, but he quickly changed his facial expression to keep his wife from feeling guilty. “Iya,” said, then pecked at the top of Safira's nose. “What today is he moving a lot?”

Safira nodded gently. “Maybe our child is again looking for a comfortable position for birth later.”

The sparkle that Safira emitted while rubbing his stomach made Ashqar develop a smile. “Hopefully the delivery will be smooth and you are safe,” he said, climbing the bed and taking a seat beside Safira. Then Ashqar glanced at the book that was on his wife's lap.

A guidebook for new moms-to-be on how to care for a baby that Safira buys when she's seven months pregnant. Ashqar did not really understand what the importance of reading the book was while Safira herself regularly attended many classes, ranging from gymnastics for pregnant women to how to bathe and change diapers. Even his wife often asked Harti for a lot of advice by phone for hours. The last time they made a phone call, Ashqar had to be willing to be invisible for four more hours.

“Do not read again, there you are more nervous.”

Sapphira begged as Ashqar grabbed the book on her lap. “Nothing, Mas. Precisely if I do not read this book, I become agitated,” Safira explained while extending a hand.

Ashqar squinted. He did not understand Safira's way of thinking. “Jut read this book continuously so make you not calm,” said Ashqar, tucking the book into a pillow when Safira was seen trying to reach back his reading book. “Now what matters is your inner calmness facing labor. Although I will never be able to feel how pain brings a life born into the world, but I will be beside you to get through it.”

When Sapphira blinked, she was in the warm embrace of Ashqar. The delicate dips from Ashqar's heart sounded pleasant in his ears.

Safira. “Later I didn't make it, huh, Mas? I'm afraid of failing, I'm afraid of leaving our newborn child, I'm afraid I won't have time to hold him or see how he looks.”

“Kok, you're so pessimistic?” Ashqar grabbed Safira's face with both hands and rubbed each of those round cheeks. “You can do it, darling. You are one of the strongest and greatest women in my life. I know that childbirth is an incredibly big gamble, but please don't think about the worst possibilities. Think of the cries of our son when he is born, the happiness of Alvin and Zain who have been waiting for their sister, as well as your and my chances to take care of him to adulthood.”

Sapphira's face flushed red, her eye beads glazed over and the water droplets slowly decayed one by one. “I'm afraid that I can only deliver him to the world, Mas.”

This isn't the first time. From the age of Sapphira near the end of the eighth month, his wife became more worried and anxious. Although doctors say it is quite natural for pregnant women, it still makes Ashqar ketar-ketir.

“Remember doctor's advice, dear. Do not think negatively, you must be optimistic if you can go through labor later,” said Ashqar as soon as he regained his calm. “You must have a stronger desire to meet our child.”

Sapphira's embrace at Ashqar's waist tightens. “Sorry yes, Mas. Lately I've been thinking a lot. Sorry, yes?”

“Not to apologize, Honey. I know you're worried and scared, that's natural. But you also have to remember that there is me and the children who always expect the safety of you and the new members of our family.”

As Sapphira only nodded gently in her arms, Ashqar reached out to gently rub Sapphira's back up to the waist. Until for a while that sounded only the roar of the wind from the air conditioning and the loud sound of the wall clock. Then when Ashqar glanced at Safira's face, again for the umpteenth time Ashqar was left asleep by his wife.

“Basic, habit,” he said, looking at the tip of Safira's nose. Then with a slow and careful movement Ashqar laid Sapphira on the mattress and arranged a pillow under Sapphira's heels as well as the right side of his body.

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