I remember that moment vividly. I was sitting on the make-shift bed/sofa next to Rumi. The Indian nurse had told me there was a common shower in the department and I could use that. My midwife told me how the first shower you take post giving birth is an experience you never forget. (I had taken a quick shower the night I gave birth but it had been two days and many eons since then. I had moved hospitals, Rumi had been to NICU and discharged, showed up in ER and not sanitised. All in this short window of two days.) God knows I needed that shower.
The moment Rumi was finally asleep, I got up to go for a shower. Turns out, it takes a while to find your things. Especially when you have a second degree tear, no light (to keep the baby sleeping), and once-in-a-lifetime-fatigue. When I was finally on my way out, Rumi woke up. This had happened twice by the time I was on the bed. I was torn. Did I need that shower? Could I even get up and get to the washroom? Would I rather spend the next hour sleeping?
As my brain processed all this, I was a puddle of tears. I didn’t think there was any chance I could make it one step off bed, forget take an entire shower.
Full context. As soon as I reached back from the ER and fed Rumi, we noticed he had turned red all over. We called the nurse to check and she didn’t seem to know exactly what to do. She said she would call the paediatrician for a consult. As we were managing all this, mom was trying desperately to reach us. She worried we wouldn’t get medicine for my blood pressure if Lohit didn’t go out to get it in time. After trying me six times and Lohit another dozen, she panicked. She called the hospital and asked them to make her speak to us.
As the paediatrician finally arrived and was examining Rumi, the nurse came in and said we needed to call my mom back immediately. I don’t know if it was all the stress from the last couple of days but I lost it at this point. I called mom and as she screamed at me wondering why we weren’t taking my health seriously, I screamed right back and told her she needs to back off.
The doctor calmed us down when she told us that Rumi had a newborn rash - something that’s usual and harmless - and we don’t have to worry about it. With that behind us, Lohit focused on mom’s warnings. (The various potential complications of high blood pressure include a stroke to the un-initiated). He decided to head to the pharmacy.
In parallel, I called mom and tried to explain to her that she ought to take a backseat and let me handle things. I did this through my anguished crying. Exasperated and unable to communicate, I asked her to give the phone to Angad (my brother). There is something guttural about the way you can only communicate to your sibling. I told him what had happened. And how I needed him to explain it to mom because I was having a hard time even finding the right words.
He heard me out. And then said, “don’t worry, I will handle mom. You focus there.” I was suddenly at ease. I knew he had my back. Most of our life, we grew up knowing that no matter what happens, we have each other. That safety never goes away. (Also the reason why I want Rumi to have a sibling).
I felt guilty for being mean to mom and not empathaising with her worry over my high blood pressure. But I also didn’t have any room left for empathy. I knew I needed to ask for help and couldn’t be stoic anymore. So I did. And what a relief it was to do so. (Wonder why I haven’t done more of the leaning over the years?)
When Lohit came back from the pharmacy he was exhausted and worn out. He hadn’t slept or eaten or had a shower in the last many days either. Being a caregiver to not one, but two sick people, can be a drain. I had no heart to ask him for anything more. I was hungry, thirsty, dirty, hurting and exhausted. But I was also hurting for him. I knew if I asked him he would do whatever I needed. I also knew it was easier to handle it on my own. (Yep, still the non-leaning variety).
With that background, as I sat on the bed, crying, I remembered something I would often teach to those at CORE. (the startup I founded and left when I got pregnant).
You can always find strength to rise above your reality. When you think you are done, that is where the real you begins.
So easy to preach. So hard to do.
In that moment of utter pain, discomfort and agony, I found me. I found Rumi’s mother deep within. And there, I could get beyond my physical limitations. I stood up.
With this renewed self, I looked at Lohit. I told him to take a shower first and that I would walk all the way to maternity to get myself some ice pads. They had helped me with my pain on the first night and I knew using them would be crucial to my healing. The logic of going myself was that they might feel sympathy for me and give me those ice pads. (Remember they had said no to helping me earlier in the day as I went with high BP. Obviously I was worried they would say no again). Lohit protested but his arguments were no match to this new me.
Turns out there are great nurses everywhere. I found one of those in maternity that night. As I asked her for some ice pads, she gave me a whole lot more than I had expected. And she said, “take these, you don’t know if the next nurse you meet will be understanding”. I smiled at her and told her she had read my mind. I also told her what she does matters more than I can explain. She beamed back.
Victorious, I walked back to Paeds and picked up my change of clothes. As I finally hobbled from the room to the shower, I felt a gush of blood. I stopped. I looked up. I was at the nurses station. I said aloud, “I think I am bleeding”. Our Indian nurse (who by now was a friend) rushed to my side. She looked at my pyjama. Then looked back at me. And quietly said, “I don’t think it’s blood”.
That is when I looked down and saw it for myself. I had peed. Turns out urinary incontinence is one of those great gifts of child birth that rarely gets talked about. And there I was, in front of six nurses, a grown adult, with urine all over me. I said “Oh”, smiled sheepishly and walked to the washroom.
(For those of you that may have suffered silently from urinary incontinence post giving birth, know that there is a way to repair your body and you are not alone. I have been doing this great program that has helped me tremendously).
I rushed in to the washroom, embarrassed. The worst - I had still nor emptied my bladder and I felt a terrible need to go. Now back to pandemic world. I didn’t have my cleaning supplies. So going there in the public washroom was out of question. I realised there was only one shower and Lohit was in it. I told him I needed him to come out and let me go first. He was almost done. And told me it would take him just two more minutes.
While giving birth had brought us closer in ways I had never imagined, I was too shocked to explain to him how I was in utter physical discomfort. Or how those two more minutes were a lifetime. So I stood there and waited. The longest wait. And finally went in and showered (and peed).
I don’t know what took longer. Getting the grime of my body, or letting all those tears out. At the end, I felt like I was a new person.
And I walked out, looked at myself in the mirror. I noticed I had lost nearly 10 kgs in 2 days. I smiled. I liked the me that looked back at me. I walked out confidently and smiled at the nurses. I said out aloud, “Wow, how I needed that shower, thank you for suggesting it.”
When I reached back, Rumi was awake and ready to eat.
When I look back, it was in those few hours that I finally became a mother. I had read that motherhood transforms you, gives you strength and emotions you didn’t know. It wasn’t until I experienced it for myself that I understood.
That night, I didn’t sleep. I sat in bed. And I thought. About my life. About my mom. In the morning I sent her this -
“Mommy... This whole experience of being a mother has made me realise the intensity of what you feel for me..I mean theoretically I always knew it and valued it but actually experiencing it was a whole other thing.
For a lot of people becoming a parent makes them start to value their parent. For me I have always known the value of having you. But what I didn't anticipate was the sheer way in which a woman has to transcend her own body and mental space to become a mom and its amazing that you did that for me 😘😘😘😘
Like you predicted.. the world did tilt shift .. but as it stands I also learnt that while I have to be a parent to Rumi, I can always be a baby to you and you will take care of me.. that is such a comfort and feeling of being held in a way ... You are the best mom in the world
I am sure I have said this before but once again, you did a fantastic job in being Angad and my parent...I mean it must have been tremendous to do what you did.. not just at birth or pregnancy but through the years ... To take a stand for what was important to you while continuing to fight for us.. and to do it without anyone to lean on... Again theoretically I have always felt this way... But practically going through the last week has for the first time taught me what it means to fully focus on another person's needs even as your own limit had reached it's end.. and had Lohit also not been around.. I cant even imagine how that would have happened.
I can imagine how many times you felt in some ways like that over the years but you never showed it. You were just brave and inspiring and strong.. I don't know any other human like that. You are truly one of a kind.”
You really powered through, Zoi! Rumi and I are proud of you. xoxo
What should I say ..... I am speechless .... so proud of you ..... so sorry and angry that I wasn't there .... love u so much
Your Mama( speaking from that puddle on the floor😃😃)