At 34 weeks and 4 days, Marishka never imagined her son would arrive so suddenly. What should have been a calm, joyful moment turned into a day of fear, prayer, and unimaginable strength.
She woke early that morning feeling unwell, dismissing the discomfort as simple gas. But by the time she reached work, contractions had already begun—and then she noticed blood. Panic surged. She alerted family and friends as colleagues rushed to get her to the clinic.
In the labour ward, midwives tried to reassure her, but her gynaecologist delivered news that changed everything: there was no time to prepare her baby’s lungs. Delivery had to happen immediately. Alone, without her husband or mother beside her, Marishka was taken into surgery.
When her son entered the world, he did not cry. Wrapped in an orange towel, his tiny body turning blue, he was rushed straight to the neonatologist. He had no heartbeat.
For 23 days, her baby stayed in the NICU—fragile, silent, and connected to machines that breathed and monitored for him. Every visit was a journey of fear and faith, as Marishka travelled across the island while still healing from her C-section. She clung to prayer, to her husband’s strength, to her family and colleagues, whispering the same message to her baby each day: “We are fighting together.”
Then, one Tuesday morning, hope appeared. Her son had been moved out of NICU. Slowly, he grew stronger—first to the nursery, then finally home. Today, Hussein Zakarriyya Oliver Soan Linley Lebon is almost four months old—alert, thriving, and a living testament to quiet resilience.
Marishka’s message to mothers of premature babies: “Don’t get discouraged. Talk to your baby. Premature babies need extra attention—but that is what makes them strong.” Her story is a reminder that miracles don’t always arrive with noise. Sometimes, they return to the world small, silent, and unstoppable.
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