Family Short Story – Birth
My birth story is my family’s favourite story, fondly retold at every family gathering, which is fairly reasonable as what followed after my birth was a really long struggle of making me survive. My family fought through that phase, with all they had, hoping to save a life that was relying on them.
As I say – after the storm passes, you’re left amazed at yourself, thinking how you made through it.
I came to this world 1 month too soon and the complications involved left me and my mother in a pitiable state. Mom was ill and was receiving her treatment while I had not opened my eyes yet which left my father alone to take care of us. My sister, who was 7 then, had to stay with our family friends, so dad can stay back at the hospital. Dad stood by his family, taking care of mom and constantly watching over me to check whether I’ve opened my eyes.
As my mother tells me with a heavy heart now-“we were really afraid that you wouldn’t make it”.
I had a tiny frame, with limbs of thickness comparable to sticks, and a ‘barely there’ mouth.My parents shuddered to think that I may not survive, that there’s indeed a possibility that their little girl would never open her eyes to the world. After 8 long hours of waiting, I slowly opened my eyes, as dad looked on, awestruck and too overwhelmed to say anything.
My mother recounts that after the delivery, the nurses won’t tell her whether her baby was a boy or a girl. When she inquired them later about their strange behaviour, this is what they had to say “you gave birth to a girl child yet again when you already have a 7 years old daughter, we thought you will be disheartened”. That was my mother’s first taste of the world’s perception of a girl child.
I received intensive treatment for 10 days. I was kept heavily wrapped in thick cottonwool, my face barely visible amongst the IV tubes covering my body used for administering baby food and medications. All this didn’t allow for my mother to feed me, until one day, god conspired so my mother gets what her heart craved for.
The hospital staff discovered late in night that the milk has spoiled. They had no option but to allow my mother to try to feed me. It seemed virtually impossible, but somehow, it happened. The impossible was achieved. This incidence rekindled the hope we were so desperate for.
My sister did come to visit me once but the poor girl, only 7 then, couldn’t bear to see her sister, whom she was so eagerly waiting for, in such a critical state.
The doctors knew my parents would go to any lengths to save me. so, they kept suggesting new treatments and quoted all sorts of diseases and complications to keep them worried. They realised this when a kind-hearted nurse sneaked into our ward at night and revealed the truth.
Father decided to take us home as the roads greeted us with heavy rain and knee-deep water after we had travelled for barely a few metres. We were in a rickshaw. Mother held me close to her and covered me in several layers of clothing so a single raindrop may not touch me.
Their struggle didn’t end as they exited the hospital doors. Much more was to follow –
Tons of medicines, visits to doctor, strict routine care, frequent ailments, but they stood firm throughout, untill they were finally able to grant me the wonderful blessing of life.
I am leading a happy life now, pursuing my dreams, trying to build my future. These memoirs always reminds me that there are a lot of people who had sleepless nights so I may dream in peace. I am indebted to them, and I feel it’s my duty to make the most of this life presented to me by these angels whom I affectionately call ‘family’.
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