Sunday, February 10, 2008

August Bloom

This time, it is about a little personal story..

Niranjala is one of my best friends who lives in Canada with her husband and their sweet little angel, Jass. one day she send me a mail attaching her write up saying she composed it for an academic purpose. While reading the essay.. it brought tears to my eyes ....and I decided to publish it in my blog.

It's a true story about her sweet little loving family and I'll assume that she is ok with me posting her essay here.

(read the first part by clicking this image.)

Below you can read rest of her essay ...

A delay for paperwork then got our room; it faced east. I saw a thread of first sunlight peeking through the sky welcoming the new day. They gave me a blue hospital gown. I settled down in a narrow white bed after changing. The room seemed surprisingly spacious and comfortable; not what I was expecting. The windows let the sunrise fill the room.

My doctor, Mrs. Harrison, entered the room with her warm smile. We greeted each other. I didn't need to explain my early hours; she had lots of experience. She examined me. I had to open my legs wide apart. I was never comfortable revealing myself. I felt very shy and vulnerable. It was much worse than visiting the dentist. I had decided to go to a female pediatrician to avoid the embarrassment. Dr. Harrison was a genuine, kind lady who made me comfortable. I had known her for seven months. I felt that she was like a mother, someone who cared.

6:30 in the morning, I felt my skin tearing. Gradually I felt the tearing feeling multiplying. I felt needles poking into my skin and bones. My tissues stretched and tore. Now I knew what mothers meant when they were talking about labour pains. I agreed with them at that moment: it was the most painful experience for me and I was just starting my adventure. My husband and I counted from one to ten, took deep breaths, and started all over again. We did this for three hours. I used all my strength and felt exhausted, but with no results.

Doctor Harrison called for more doctors. Nurses rushed in with equipment. I saw my husband's worried face, turning red. How did I feel in that moment? I was puzzled, wondering what was happening. I took more deep breaths. Four doctors rushed in to the room. They were discussing something about me, but I didn't see their expressions with the masks on their faces. A few minutes later, one of the doctors gave me a shot. I was frozen from the waist down. At this point, I didn't care much that I was revealing myself to many strangers. The pain, the concern, the tiredness were too overwhelming to care about anything else. I was glad I didn't feel what they were doing to me. Ed never liked to see blood, but he was staring with a shock.

They all encouraged me, calling "You are ready, mum, let's count, and push." The physical and emotional support was great. Ed was beside me, holding my hand.

On August 24, 2000, at 10:25 in the morning, I succeeded in my greatest triumph! For the very first time, I saw the little person that I had fallen in love with nine months earlier, before I ever seen her. I heard the little voice that made me so proud. Then I held her in my arms; the most precious treasure in my world. Congratulations faded away in the back ground as I snuggled to her. I have never believed it when mothers said "The pain will be forgotten when you hold your baby." Indeed, I do believe them now.

I looked at my husband, exchanging smiles at the mutual triumph we had achieved. The memory of the perfume of Jasmine blossoms that had greeted me at the start of that day gave my daughter, "Jasmyne", her name.

1 comment: