My journey to motherhood - part 2

Post my pregnancy loss, i availed the miscarriage leave which turned out to be a grave mistake. Being home, all by myself added fuel to my depression. Those days were dark, but let's not go into the details. Things began to improve when I rejoined work. Thankfully I had a good friend circle and a comfortable work environment at the office back then. But the emotional trauma of a miscarriage wouldnot let me think of another pregnancy. I could see myself worrying about another miscarriage, throughout the months if I were to get pregnant again. It was a catch-22 for me. I wanted the baby, but did not want to put myself in the pressure cooker for 9 months. When rats and rabbits could do it in a month, I wondered why we needed 9 months ! He kept telling me to relax and not think about it for a while. But the social pressure of "vishesham onum aayile" and the reminders from Vanitha about how fast your biological clock is ticking and how you should always always have a baby before you turn 30, were getting to me. I decided to do some root cause analysis and dragged him to an infertility clinic. The doctor there asked us "You got pregnant when you wanted, then why are you here ?". He gave me a death stare and muttered "I told you so". I clarified that I wanted to know why it happened and how we can prevent it. Sometimes there are no explanations, they confirmed. They did some basic tests and informed we were fine. They explained Darwin's Theory again [facepalm] and he glared at me more.

I finally somehow made peace with the incident and decided to move on. A year and a half passed and I conceived again. Both our families suggested that I take leave at least for the first trimester. I obliged as the doctor seemed to agree with them. I came and stayed at my home and they even shifted my room to the ground floor to avoid the frequent stairs. I felt elated and relieved when they detected the heartbeat. Spending days inside the walls of my home, I thought life was starting to get boring. And then one evening, I discovered that I am bleeding. But I was determined not to go into the panic mode this time. Once in the hospital, they confirmed that the heartbeat is intact and that it is quite common in the first trimester these days. I was given some injections and was back home on bed rest. There were some more similar incidents, but every time they confirmed that the baby is fine. It was an emotionally draining experience going back and forth to the hospital. I didn't dare to dream this time. But my hopes began to rise, as I was nearing the end of the first trimester. 

l was scanning the face of the doctor who did my scan and I detected his frown even before he detected something. When I inquired, he informed me that it is probably nothing, but that the sac was a bit smaller than usual and hence the fluid was a little less. I was prescribed some medicines to help increase the fluid and was referred to do an NT scan. Again, I noticed the radiologists eyebrows furrow during the NT scan. He thought that the fluid levels were fine, but the NT value was very slightly higher than normal and forwarded me for the double marker test [NT scan and double marker test are screening tests which help detect chromosomal abnormalities in the baby. But the result just gives you a probability]. So my results put me in the higher risk category for the baby having a chromosomal variation [like Down's, Edward and Patau's syndrome etc]. I was putting up a brave face in the pregnancy so far. But I was shattered after this. I cried. I screamed. People tried to calm me down, telling me that these results are not definitive, but only probable. I googled like there is no tomorrow. I read up on the experiences of people who walked this way. I realized that we never understand what people are going through until it happens to us. It takes immense strength to be a special parent and most of them are ready to go any mile for their little one. But everyone worries about the day when they may not be around. I had started feeling my tiny baby's movements by then. It felt like butterflies in my stomach. In what should've been one of the happiest moments of my life, I was feeling helpless as I never had. With a tear escaping my eyelid, I whispered that I will love you no matter what. Meanwhile, he was still hopeful and was running around looking for ways ahead. The only definitive way to find out if there's an issue was to do an amniocentesis [which is extracting amniotic fluid around the baby and testing it], but it has a slight risk of miscarriage. We were asked to meet Dr Henry who was one of the acclaimed pediatric doctors in Kerala - for his opinion. He used to visit Metro Labs every Thursday evening. When we called up, we were told to come at 8PM and we did. What I experienced there was beyond words.There were many pregnant women and other parents waiting to meet the doctor, awaiting the destiny of their child. We shared stories and empathized with each other during the long wait. I was among the last and got to meet the doctor at around 5 in the morning. He was a nice person, completed my scan and informed me that he didn't see any anomalies related to the chromosome variations in the scan currently and asked for a repeat after a couple of weeks. I went back home and slept peacefully at 6 in the morning after many days. 

I read about Aditya Tiwari, who at 27 adopted a baby having Down's syndrome when the baby's parents had abandoned him. I thought that if a stranger can be so compassionate to the child, we will also find that strength if the need arises. I went shopping looking for the next size as my tummy was becoming bigger. I saw cute baby dresses and asked him if we would be able to buy these. His reply was a smile. I resumed work, thinking that it will keep me busy. I did my work and smiled at the issues and escalations, wondering how important I once thought these were. I met the doctor again and he did not see any specific issues and suggested that we can have an amniocentesis done, if I wanted to be sure. We decided against it, thinking about the risk of miscarriage. Meanwhile, we moved to kims hospital keeping neonatal care also in mind. Due to the case history, I was referred to Dr Vidya Lakshmi who handles high risk pregnancy and fetal medicine - who was one of the most compassionate doctors i have met in my life. She was out of town and one of her junior doctors did a detailed scan and found that the umbilical cord was having a single artery - which is a marker that slightly increases the probability of an issue. So finally, we had to opt for amniocentesis. I applied for a couple of weeks leave so that I can be on full rest after the procedure. Him, being a firm believer, stood in front of the deity teary eyed. Seeing him miserable, the poojari asked the reason, consoled and suggested some prayer rituals. I met Dr Vidya, who filled me with positivity. But I felt her concern rise during the scan and she called him in. She struggled to convey that the baby had a serious congenital heart defect and hence even if the results of amniocentesis were normal, we probably may have to make the really hard choice of letting the baby go. While everyone else was heartbroken, I went totally numb. I couldn't sleep for days. I felt afraid of darkness. I startled every time the baby moved. Amniocentesis results confirmed that the baby did not have any chromosomal variations. He ran around, meeting doctors, getting references to pediatric cardiologists/surgeons and looking for some hope. We met Dr Naveen Jain and Dr Henry and got references to SCT and Amritha. Everyone seemed to agree with Dr Vidya and tried to console us that usually these things are not detected this early and hence the heartbreaks are more severe in other cases. Even some relatives tried to console me about how God helped identify it. But I couldn't understand why He forgot to add the major blood vessel in my baby's heart in the first place. I was angry at the world and God. I couldn't understand my father and husband visiting temples yet and felt angry at them too. Once again I stayed in the labor room, listening to other babies' cries and bidding goodbye to mine. This time he was also with me in the labor room. I had placed his hand over me and asked to feel my baby move for the last time. I had asked him to guess the gender and he told 'let it be a boy'. And boy it was. Labor was difficult. But it didn't matter. Only he saw our precious baby. I didn't. There in that labor room, in the middle of the grief that only we two could fully fathom, we decided that we are enough for each other for this lifetime.

My journey to motherhood: My tiny little star

I always knew I was not great mother material. I hardly played with kids or made efforts when any babies were around. Eventhough I found their smiles and giggles cute, I got annoyed at their tantrums and meltdowns and wondered why they are behaving the way they do. But my other half was great with kids. He used to make faces and play peek-a-boo with random kids we see on journeys. They would respond and giggle seeing his gimmicks. I imagined his happiness when we would have one and we slowly decided to start a family (even though I was damn scared about hospitals and medical procedures). So around a year and a half into our marriage, I conceived soon after we planned. Like almost every first pregnancy, I blushed, both families were overjoyed and he brought sweets. My younger sister who is fond of singing started checking out lullabies. Unaware of the journey I had in store, I announced the news to friends and teammates immediately. My cousin handed me over this book on pregnancy - reading which I even started talking sweet little nothings to my unseen baby. I shifted my seat from the second last row of the office bus to the first and walked around in my dream world assuming that I am beaming with pregnancy glow. I considered names for my baby, read about the diets followed by pregnant women and thought about  attires to wear for the functions ahead. All in a week's time. My world came crashing down when I noticed a tint of blood in the loo - after which I started crying frantically. My mother tried to pacify me telling such things happen during early pregnancy at times. Her efforts were in vain as I had already assumed the worst. Minutes in the hospital waiting to get scanned felt like hours. After what seemed like ages, the doctor told me that he's unable to see the sac - which means I could either be losing the pregnancy or that it's too early to see the details in the scan. I was in more tears and the nurses tried their best to calm me down. I was asked to repeat some blood tests after 48 hours to confirm if the pregnancy is progressing. Those were the longest 48 hours of my life. I prayed like never before, spent the entire time in bed as the ignorant me believed that bed rest saves pregnancies, kept telling my baby to hold onto me and that we would somehow make it. He was also devastated and was struggling to keep me positive. The results that came affirmed that we were losing the baby. I was asked to get admitted in the labor room the next day for the closure procedures. The doctor talked about Darwin's theory and the nurses consoled me telling that I am too young and that it's just a year into our marriage. For the world it was just another early pregnancy. But for me, it was my baby whom I had talked to, whom I had already named in my head, our first born. I was in no mood for infertility worries or survival theories. I remember us walking out into the rain with broken hearts and shattered dreams. That night, I asked my sister to sing once before my baby is gone and she did, with tears welled up in her eyes. I cursed myself, lying in the labor room enduring the pain and hearing the cries of other newborns. I prayed that my baby feel no pain. I tried to convince myself that my baby would come back to me stronger. When we overheard someone there sigh over getting a girl child, I struggled not to envy them and wished the newborn a blessed life ahead. Finally, I was back home. But believe me, if post partum depression is bad, PPD without a baby is hell.

"I hoped you would get his eyes. But you never opened them for me to find out"

Note: I hope to write the rest of my journey soon. I wish to provide hope to people who are struggling in similar paths. Having said that, I also would like to reiterate that motherhood is no destination in a woman's journey, but a purely optional path.