The untold story – Part 2 (Diary Page 12)

The untold story – Part 2 (Diary Page 12)

The untold story – Part 2

As we reached the hospital, Sameer was swift enough to complete the patient registration formalities and join us outside the Operation Theatre area. Mom was already there chatting with our family physician Dr. Mehta, who came all the way just to ensure we get emotional support. Sameer did some more running around for documentation and other formalities before I was taken in the Operation Theatre. He walked anxiously in the corridor as the procedure continued inside. There was a flood of emotions in his head - anger, frustration, helplessness, shame, guilt, sorrow and the best way he chose to express all those feelings was to remain silent. In Spite of his inner turmoil, he was trying to be a strong pillar for me. Lying on the bed of the operation theater in the Breach Candy hospital, I was crying despairingly. Yes, there was body pain, but there was pain, even bigger than the physical pain. It was a moment wherein a part of me was taken away from me. I was helpless and petrified.

It was the first time the journey back home was almost silent. We were short of words. Sameer did ask a couple of times if I had any pain, I just nodded quietly. The mind was still unable to decide if it was physical pain or the cry of a broken heart. The journey seemed to be never ending and I just wanted to reach home and lie down in my bed. 

After reaching home, we settled down. Sameer ordered my medicines and ensured I took them. Aai made simple Kadhi-Khichdi for dinner but guess what, none of us wanted to eat anything. I tried, but just couldn’t swallow any food. Sameer finished the food and did the dishes. I was feeling completely lost, unable to focus on anything. Life looked like a complete full-stop. I was strained and immensely exhausted.Mom called to check on my health but all I could answer back were monosyllables. "Hmm.” 

I was lying in the bed, unable to sleep, weeping continuously. The roller-coaster ride of the last two months came back to haunt me - the joy of knowing I conceived, the cozy celebration planned by Sameer, the happy visits to the Gynecologist, making contact with the baby through the sonographic tests, and then the crashing news about the below-normal heartbeats in follow-up sessions. 

I'm already in my mid thirties. Will I have more trouble conceiving next time? I don't know. With this flashback and overthinking, my head is already heavy. 

The only unanswered question is "Why me"? Where did I go wrong? I felt like waking up Sameer and asking this question. I felt like crying in his arms. I turned to him only to find him sleeping tucked in his blanket. It's 3am and he has a long day tomorrow. I resisted waking him up. I had to fight my own battle. They say that the tiniest of caskets of the departed souls are the heaviest to carry. And mine was not even born yet! I played "Mata Ji ki Aarti" on my phone and somewhere midway during the Aarti, I fell asleep.

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