Early Life... part 1
Updated: Mar 18, 2019
This is Sydney, New South Wales where I was born over 50 years ago. It was June 30, 1968, my mother was in hospital giving birth to my sister. My father insisted that I stay with him for a couple of days. My mother returned home to find my father had been drinking again. She asked where I was. He grunted in his usual drunken state and pointed to the backdoor. A white wicker basket was sitting outside. I lay inside it wearing a wet cloth nappy, black blood oozing out of my mouth, dark circles under my eyes, purple body shivering.
My mother screamed in terror, 'how could you do this'. My father slurred in speech, "She wouldn't shut up, wha, wha, wha, all day and night".
She tried to feed me carnation milk as she was not able to breast feed. She wrapped warm blankets around me. Then she immediately phoned the Doctor. He came every day for three months.
"It's no use, Mrs Ahmedi, this child has suffered so much. I've done everything I can in my medical expertise and the only humane thing to do is to bury this child".
NO.... she yelled. He is a murderer, he will do it again and again. He is the devil. I wont allow him to take this child.
The Doctor grabbed me, said, "I know you can't do this, but show me where the shovel is and I will bury this child for you, it has suffered enough. There is nothing more I can do. It's dying Mrs Ahmedi.
My mother pushed the Doctor and told him to leave.
One night my father returned home from the pub and slumped into the sofa.
At midnight, my mother carried me in her arms and walked from Redfern to an open city hospital. A nurse carrying books to her car saw my mother approach her. She ran into the hospital and immediately dialling all the emergency Doctors on shift to come to her aid.
Fourteen Doctors where there that night including students.
They performed two operations that failed.
The main surgeon suggested he would cut both ankles to insert intervenes feeding through bone marrow. My mother was asked to return home and rest.
The following morning, she heard word that the operation was a success. I remained in intensive care for one year. My mother came to visit behind glass doors but she was not allowed to touch me. I had suffered from a multi-organ failure and pneumonia and I was almost dead. I was known as the hospital baby.
I returned home to my family whom I did not recognise. I was estranged to them all. I did not feel their love. My sister became spoilt and a bully and my mother grew very fond of her instead of me. Often I would sit alone and watch everyone in the house while my mother would play with my sister. My sister was bigger than me and I was often compared with her.
My father was violent and there was always trouble in the house. By this time he had a motorbike and a gang.
My mother tells me, my father had friends over for a card game. She was in the kitchen making Turkish coffee for the players. One of my fathers friends commented on how beautiful she looked. She had high cheek bones, very slim, very intelligent and resembled Audrey Hepburn in looks. My father called out to my mother, she nervously came with a tray of cheese crackers and coffee. She stood near my father and he formed a first and smashed her face. She fell to the ground bleeding from the mouth. He then kicked her pregnant stomach. She bled everywhere and her jaw was split open. Men at the table stood up to help but my father told them to sit down and play otherwise they would receive the same.
He said, sit down and play cards.
He looked at my mother and turned to the man beside him and said, now tell me if she is beautiful.
My mother crawled to the bathroom leaving a trail of blood. Blood filled the bath.
A neighbour came to her aid and took her to hospital.
At hospital the doctor reports that the child has been damaged.
The head has a dent the size of a golf ball.
Doctor further explains that the child will be brain damaged... possibly not make it alive.
The only solution would be to abort.
My mother screamed at the doctor.
He had killed all my babies she said.
The devil wont take this one.
The doctor insisted that raising a child with a damage head would make life very difficult for her. He insisted on a abortion. She walked out of hospital.
She prayed every night. She held her stomach and prayed that the devil will not take her baby.
more to come... please read.... part 2.