How She Came into Existence
The due date is near. I gently pat my baby-bump and smile contentedly.
I remember when we went to the doctor’s for the sonography and I saw my baby for the first time. It was the most beautiful sight ever for me! It was the size of my finger. I could have cuddled it up in my palms easily; so tiny it was.
And when the stethoscope was kept on my tummy and I heard the thud-thud of my baby’s heartbeat, it was such a pleasing sound that my lips automatically curved into a smile.
I shrug away tears of happiness thinking about the new life that breathes inside of me. I have not yet thought of a name and to be honest, I am not too keen on christening babies. Why be presumptuous? What if the baby looks like an “emerald” and not a “diamond”? What then? I am not too sure of the metaphor used, but I think it kind of gives you the idea.
I hum a lullaby for my baby, and after a while, I hear the door open followed by the rushed footsteps of my husband coming in. I blush. I don’t know why, but I tend to blush too much these days. I turn towards him with a smile on my lips but freeze immediately, seeing the worried look in his eyes.
“What happened Rakshit?” I ask anxiously.
He had gone to the doctor’s to collect my reports. The more he remains quiet, the more apprehensive I get. In a grave tone, he says, “Your kidneys are not functioning properly. The doctor said that we might have to operate today itself.”
Suddenly all sounds cease to exist and all I can hear is the harsh whooshing of air past my ears. My heartbeat erupts like wildfire and I am unable to breathe. My body bloats to double its size and I hiccough vigorously. Next thing I remember is that I am in the hospital and am chained to the bed because of violent seizures. I succumb to fits and it seems like I am losing my battle. Slowly my vision fades away into blackness.
“Eclampsia,” the doctor says, “In simple words, the patient suffered from high blood pressure and resulting seizures because of which she has drifted into a coma. She is in a very critical condition as of now. We’ll have to operate immediately. Either the mother can be saved, or the baby …” the doctor keeps on saying but I stop listening.
My heart weeps for my unborn child, but I can’t lose it; not yet.
My wife is fighting her battle inside the OPD and I have to be strong for her.
“Save my wife,” I say to the doctor.
The calmness in my voice surprises me. My insides are in a chaos.
I have just asked my baby to be killed before even letting it breathe properly. Time starts moving at an incredibly slow pace.
“She’ll be fine,” I hear my mother say to my brother-in-law. My mind silently protests, but I ignore it and pray to the lord with all that I have.
The nurse comes out with a tiny bundle in her hands. My sister’s unborn baby! I cannot hold on further and hug the tiny thing to my heart. My brother-in-law quietly takes his baby and looks at it with fondness.
“It is a boy,” he whispers, smiling.
Together, he and I walk to the backyard and dig a tiny grave for the baby. It should have been a proper burial, but my sister was still fighting for her life and this seemed like the best option that we had.
Life isn’t all gold and beautiful; it has its own true colors.
I am surrounded by my entire family. Yet I feel a void. I don’t know what day it is, and I also do not know for how many days, I was in the coma.
I touch my tummy and feel the nothingness touching me back. A lone tear escapes my eyes. It is as if I am detached from everything and everyone. I feel like I don’t belong anywhere … like I can see and hear, but cannot feel … like I want to do something, but cannot quite grasp what it is … as if time is slipping away from my hands!
I lost a life.
I lost my baby.
Life stops for a while, for me. Rakshit tries his best to revive my old self, but the dull ache that had impregnated my heart was there to stay.
Life also goes on, however. Days pass into weeks and then into months. The hollow diminishes itself within the tiny confines of my heart. Love blossoms inside me again. This time, the pleasure is mixed with apprehension, anticipation with caution, and happiness with prayers.
The doctor suggests to not go ahead with this pregnancy as it may be life threatening, but I decide to, anyway. I can’t kill the life growing inside of me, for not only am I giving birth to her…she is also giving birth to me, as a mother, again.
I count the number of days. I pray.
~ 9 Months Later ~
“We are losing the mother and the baby. We’ll have to operate immediately. We cannot say if either of them can be saved or not,” the doctor says.
I listen to my worst fears. I surrender myself before the Almighty and decide to embrace whatever his decision may be. It gives me hope and strength.
Soon enough the doctor announces the birth of my daughter, a healthy baby, the fighter baby!
My wife survives. The operation was miraculously successful!
I wipe away the unshed tears from my eyes.
Life is beautiful again. Warmth has invaded the coldness that enveloped us.
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