It was a chilly morning in
end January when Diya & I sat in the porch of a guest room in Sukna
(Siliguri). She was a whopping 78 kgs & you could now start to see the baby
feet on her bump occasionally. As the morning fog started to clear, we sat
remembering the journey that got us here.
Till about a year ago the
doctors had ruled out having another baby. She suffered from acute thyroid
& neurocysticercosis. While the thyroid wouldn’t let her conceive, the fits
kept reminding us that the pregnancy wouldn’t sustain. Numerous second
opinions, visits to Dargahs, Mandirs & Gurudwaras, special aahuti from
shrines,water from lakes were undertaken & finally everything miraculously
stabilised. The thyroid from being super high stabilised itself. The fits
stopped. We couldn’t believe it & waited for a year before seeking a go
ahead for a child.
The obstacles didn’t cease
here. Being posted in Bagrakote (about one and a half hours from Siliguri) and
with no doctor (forget hospital) around, monthly trips to the Hospital in
Siliguri were preceded with ample prayers to both – God & the car, to help carry us through the broken road for an hours
journey to the hospital & back. Through all this, He kept holding our hand
& as an angel sent a boss who gave me a months leave to shift Diya to
Siliguri for the ninth month.
So we sat, patiently
biding our time. The pregnancy had progressed fine. The baby and mother were
doing well. It was any day now said the doctor. The guest room was bliss –
totally isolated. Next to a forest, we would only need to sit in the porch of
the room (the only building there) and watch wild elephants pass by or see the
wild boar family stutter around in the evening. It was perfect “us” time.
As we slept one night, I
was woken at around 3:50 in the morning by Diya’s movements. I hoped as hell
that everything was fine as I switched on the lights. There lay her trembling
body in the throes of a neurocysticercosis attack. I watched helplessly as her
body thrashed around. The doctor had warned us that a fit at this stage could
be fatal for the baby. The bed was wet – could it be the water bag? Hundreds of
scenarios of the worst possible nature rushed through my head. Suddenly the
seizure attack stopped and I tried to rouse her. In a semi-conscious stage we
managed to reach the car parked outside. I forewarned the doctor as I sped
towards the hospital. Meanwhile the seizures started again. The short journey
to the hospital was probably the longest I ever undertook.
As I pulled into the
emergency entrance, I realised that the seizures had stopped, she was
unconscious and the body had gone rigid. I screamed for the nurse & we
struggled to get her out of the car. Meanwhile the doctor alongwith the surgeon
had already started preparing for the operation.
Within a few minutes of
her being wheeled in, I received a statutory form from the operation theater
asking for consent to operate which read, “patient in comatose. Chances of
survival minimal. Operation necessary to save baby.” As I signed, the
thoroughly professional nurse asked me arrange for blood & apologised for
“my loss”. “My Loss”?? Tears streamed out. This couldn’t be happening. A few hours
ago we were laughing at the antics of the baby boar and the elephant rumbling
by. Life couldn’t turn upside down so fast. God couldn’t take so many tests! If
they were asking for blood, meant that chances of her survival though less,
were still there! It was 4:40 and no one would attend my call. The battery
started to dip. My frustration & helplessness didn’t help. Finally I got a
call through to my angel – my boss who told me to pray – everything would be
fine & to leave the rest to him. As I sat praying to Sai Baba & Guru
Nanak, I got the confirmation from one regiment that some boys of the required
blood group were on their way. In the meanwhile, another friend who would have
seen the missed call, called back to check & promised help asap.
In a matter of minutes, a
burly khalsa in uniform was running in the corridor towards me. I was shocked
when I met him as he was the same driver who was driving Diya & me around
14 years ago in Leh trying to find a place of worship to get us married. Neither
did he know that it was me who needed help. As we struggled with our
astonishment, he rushed to the blood bank to donate blood – he was the same
blood group as Diya.
The pediatrician
meanwhile walked out with a small bundle nicely wrapped up. It was a girl &
she was healthy as per the doctor. The doctor asked me if I’d thought of a name
for the miracle baby & I said “Sairah” – split into Sai – rah (she who
would walk on the path of Sai) for this wouldn’t have been possible without the
divine intervention.
Before I could ask her
about Diya, she rushed to place Sairah into the incubator in the Neonatal ICU.
Meanwhile the gynecologist came out of the operation theater with a grim face.
Three concurrent operations had been performed on Diya. The baby delivered, a
blockage in her throat due to some liquid getting stuck there which caused her
to stop breathing & lapse into coma had been cleared by the ENT specialist
& her tongue which had been bitten during the seizures had been scraped
& stitched up by the surgical specialist along with the ENT specialist.
However, she was still in coma & nothing could be said as of now.
It was the 13th
of February. Today my son also turned 9!. Our daughter had been born on the
same day as our son. As he came to the hospital, he innocently asked for his
birthday cake & quietly asked me friends coming to his birthday next year
would get different gifts for them or a combined gift. Since we couldn’t
celebrate his birthday, I took him to the coffee shop nearby & made him cut
a slice. Diya would have wanted him to be happy. Soon he left with his
grandparents for our home in Bagrakote & I sat outside the ICU praying for
her to revive. The next day, the matron asked about the baby & I realised
that I hadn’t even seen her. I rushed to the ICU & held Sairah – my little
Diya – our miracle baby – for the first time. For the next four to five days I
would come every two hours to the Neonatal ICU, don the cape & slippers
& with a bowl & spoon feed my darling & make her burp. Many a times
I wouldn’t be able to control my tears as I held her & the nurses sobbing
away wouldn’t help at all.
On 15th
February, as I stood next to Diyas bed, her hand gripped mine & she
whispered “Happy Birthday” before losing consciousness again. We were thrilled!
The doctors & staff upbeat. She gained full consciousness on 16th.
I distributed sweets throughout the hospital. Diya & the baby were united
with each other on the 21st – eight days after her birth! By the 27th
we were out of the hospital with our miracle baby – our gift from Sai Baba –
our Sairah! A little sister with her elder brother!
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