Motherhood usually literally means pregnancy and delivery. The experience that one goes through it is varied. Women's experience right from the first day of conception to the final is awe. Many of us miss the experiences for all that deadly negotiations that happens. We downsize, derate our motherhood. Give into the negotiations. Beware dears !
Somewhere along the continuum of this conception experience is a MISTIMED one. Please find a short story that I just wrote.
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THIS MISTIMED ONE - 80,000 rupees.
Yohannan uncle came to meet Mridula, the new mother. He settled down and congratulated her for the feat. As she was collecting herself up to respond ; Samved said, " it cost me 80,000 rupees. She couldn't deliver herself. It was a Caesarean". Mridula sank.
Mridula with her penchant for rural empowerment through architecture had taken up a new job. It was her dream job. Working for the downtrodden s upliftment. The good student in her had always prompt welfare and rehabilitation work. She was in cloud nine after the interview. It occured to her the job was hers.
As it unfolds, Mridula stood lost in her dreams really. She was to get her periods around the time she appeared for the dream job interview. And here she was a suppressed ridicule for her colleagues in the Sundernagari architect rural empowerment center. Had the hopes of the empowerment center she was to lead, come shattering down just like hers. How could she mother so much ? The empowerment center, her one and half year little mon and now 'this' one. This was not part of her dream job really !
She found some solace in a colleague Parvathy. She confided in her; "I can't enjoy motherhood, I will go mad". So began the journey of mothers. Mridula rested in her soft spoken self. She expressed herself through her passion for work. The government of India was out and out to settle scores with the disease scourges. The concerted efforts brought everybody together including the architects. Mridula enjoyed the journey with the empowerment center. Building spaces for well being, driving away the scourges through clean neighborhoods and making a safe environment. She did realise the fulfillment her thoughts and concepts brought to her and her community. Though a lot undone, the very nature of her everyday actions brought her much satisfaction.
One fine day as Samved was humming away in the bathroom and getting ready, Mridula felt the pain lower done. It struck her like a lightening bringing tears. She was to leave to her father's place for her delivery the next day. The maid who took care of the household chores had already left for her place. So it was just little mon, Mridula and Samved at home for the day. May be she knew what was coming. She pleaded with Samved, " please don't go to office today". Mridula was to leave the next day with mon. Her flight tickets were made already long ago. She hadn't packed for the journey. She knew she was lost.
Samved knew better. He had a meeting with his friend Monica, the World Bank consultant. He couldn't trade off a negotium with her. Nothing else appeared a valid reason for him to set off that meeting with her. He proceeded to work as his pheasant self.
Mridula lay on the stretcher, toxic. She was being wheeled into the Intensive care unit. The gynaecologist came rushing out and wanted the family to sign a consent form. Mridula was running malignant uncontrollable temperature and the foetal tachycardia ( fast heart beats ) were alarming. Daddy with his wife Disha had managed to get their tickets for the same day that Mridula was to fly to them. Her flight to them for the delivery was not to happen. Instead daddy and Dishaunty flew to Delhi. Samved was busy in the human resource centre of the hospital. He was negotiating hard. The hospital that Mridula was wheeled into was run by the same organisation as the Sundernagari rural empowerment center. It was a fine hospital. Samved could land a reimbursement for the hospital care if only it was not her probationary period.
Since it was only the 32 nd week of Mridula's pregnancy and a high risk it was decided to take it slow. Dad and Dishaunty took great care of Mridula, mon and Samved. Often Mridula lay on the bed cuddling her tummy talking to her unborn, " Don't worry dear monu. You are safe in Amma's hands". By this time, Mridula had resigned her job from the empowerment center and focussing on her delivery.
Again, one fine day Mridula woke up to find that everytime she coughed she could sense something wetting her. She found her palms itchy. So she made it to her friendly obstetrician in haste. Dr. Sandra was excited that she could deliver Mridula as she was effaced. Mridula was induced and she lay on the labour table waiting patiently for the pains. Sandra decided for an artificial rupture as Mridula appeared to be ready ( her dilatation was right). But to her utter dismay, it was MSL ( meconium stained liquor). So it was time now and again. Mridula was hastily wheeled into the operation theatre. Mridula loved Sandra s adeptness. She brought out ' her' baby. Showed him to Mridula. A plumpy sweet one ! Mridula dozed away.
Mridula along with Monu was welcomed home with the diya by Dishaunty. The belief that the drudgery of a difficult delivery is burnt and not welcomed into the house sounded nice to Mridula also. However, the drudgery continued
Mridula had conceived, carried Monu , risked her life , risked monu's life, given him away, delivering him - all for an 80,000 rupees.
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