My Lady of the Lantern

As I indicated in Part III , AF has come back. I am completely fed up with the bleeding. Methergine failed. Injection Botropase failed. I started Duphaston and Primolut N and the effect was transient and the flow was back again. Finally, I got the Trenaxa and that reined in the bleeding. I was so relieved when the continuous flow got controlled. However, since last night the bleeding is back again. I took another Trenaxa (which is used only when needed) and I am hoping that the Primolut N will eventually do the trick for me. Someday when I am completely over all this, I want to remain medication-free for atleast a while. (Just as a normal heads-up, please check if my replies are landing in your Spam folder. Just came to know that it did for some of you, so just see if it has not happened to any more.)

...alive. I am alive. My mind is alive. My mind is active. And on its way of thought process, the way it is. I realized ( Part II ) that no Sorry was said in the conversation that we had. What I also realized was that I did not want the Sorry. I want them to know. That is all that I want. I have never suspected their intentions. I know it too well. But I have the right to feel bruised when cut, and broken when thrown against the wall . And that I am not out to set-right the world. I feel relieved that the Sorry never entered my mind. And that I did not feel its absence at all because that is not what I expected from speaking my mind. I want them to know. KNOW.

Part I SuperPed studied Lola's file and discussed the happenings with Dr. T (UsualCity) as well as with his own contacts. Lola was hypoxic. On the evening of 13th, I had felt her excess movements, and that was a sign that she was 'not happy' inside. The oxygen supply to her had begun diminishing. All the other things such as HDN and the ARF were terminal events. SuperPed said that there was no indication of any abnormality in her. Also, I was neither hypertensive, nor had pre-eclampsia. I am not a smoker and was not on alcohol. There was no IUGR as well. The hypoxia that set-off the chain of events that caused her demise happened in the last days of the pregnancy (and apparently 12-14 hours before the C-section). Part II The mood in the house was sombre after SuperPed left. My aunt, with her hands stuck to her knitting needles, prompted discussion on 'our feelings'. My parents said what they wanted. But I also said, in unequivocal terms about what I felt. I had sai...

There are too many things that abound around me. My aunt is here. She lives in a coastal area. I told her last year that I would bring the baby to meet her. I also wanted my kid to have a flavour of the beach. Well, that is not going to happen. My aunt is knitting something. The wool she is using is partly from the lot she had for knitting Kaiser/Lola's sweater. I think of Lola every day. On Monday I went to meet the SuperPed here in City X, and was surrounded by a sea of babies and family in the waiting area. He took me in immediately and I was crying by the time I came out. And the sea still existed. Lola should have been here for a routine visit/vaccination or whatever. Instead, she came summarized in a paper file . It hurts big time. And my ears! In UsualCity I could hear the cry of a baby coming from the adjacent building. And here in City X, there is an infant in the neighbourhood whose cry I hear now and then. It does not affect me in the sense of making me cry, but it seems...

Yes, they call it Lochia. That's a word I did not know till very recently. I am dealing with the joyful bleeding and am dealing with it well, except that it has taken its finicky terms from the rest of my temperament. From what I read and I came to know...the bleeding dims down to light pink and then yellowish in its tapering which it did. Then around 12th February, it halted pretty well. Since 16th Feb, Ms. Bright Red has made a comeback...It has some weird office routine, coz the bleeding dies in the evening and is not there in the night, and it regains its duty from morning 0700 hours again. I wonder if Aafra Fafra has made an early return or it is still Lochia taking its sweet time.

The poster of this painting hung in my hospital room. I could tell easily that this was a Raja Ravi Verma, but had no idea who the lady was and the name of that particular painting. As gorgeously exotic the painting is, I had another beautiful girl make an entrance in my life. Lola was beautiful. She had my nose and forehead. She had Birdman's eyes and his lips. And she was not born bald like I was. Her fingers were shaped just like Birdman's. Her cheeks were made for kissing. I wish I could share the image of the woman I stared at for long hours with Lola and I can't. [Image Courtesy: http://www.wikigallery.org/wiki/painting_202805/Raja-Ravi-Varma/Lady-with-Flower-Garland (Image not used for commercial purpose or for claiming any copyright on the same)]

* I submitted myself y'day for a TORCH test and a CBC...the latter just for record purpose and the former just to rule out some things. And I better not get anything on that TORCH test, because that is what will totally make my day. (My results will come in tonight) * I finally did go out for a social gathering on Monday afternoon. I cried almost twice but retained my composure. I even laughed. The laughing had to happen, because I tend to be a giggle-baiter anyways. * I am going off to City X tomorrow. I will be back on the 28th morning. On the cards is the visit to my in-laws. After that I will be spending time with my parents, and an aunt who is not in the best shape health-wise, but who will be visiting us, to meet me. I am not sure if I am ready to be consoled. This aunt revealed some family history to me (through my mother who was also not so in-touch with the information). Contrary to what I used to think, my maternal grandmother did have a very hard time (as compared to ...

Lola's passing (which is not how it was meant to be, God) has left me conflicted. I am evaluating and realigining myself with entities around me. More than that, my relationship with myself is under fire. I may or may not admit it, but I know what my strengths and weaknesses are. I also know my vices and what ticks me off. If I were some sanyasi, or trying to become a refined individual, I might even have made the effort to become a better person. I am not. But I was not prepared to disintegrate or devolve into a bitter person. I am not a jealous person, even though I am a jealous person. You get a big car, I might want a ride but I won't think of getting a bigger car unless I need it. But, if you get a bigger piece of the chocolate cake, I might say 'Darn it!! Why do I always get the smaller piece?' and actually not think bad about thinking like that. I just don't don't don't want to spread my jealousy to anything more than that piece of cake. During a cer...

Jan 10th My mother came reeling from the devastating in-utero death of a family friend’s daughter’s baby. Baby had died in-utero and the mother did not realize it. I used my lunch break to go meet Dr. BS for an ultrasound. With me were Birdman and my mother. The sonography revealed that Kaiser was measuring ahead and had a loop of cord firmly placed around the neck. My mother was intuiting and worried about the cord length (there is actually no way of finding out the length of the umbilical cord, unless when the baby is being delivered). She and Dr. BS, in consultation decided for the C-Section. I was sent to Dr. W for another scan and better peek at Kaiser. There he checked various parameters and asked for a repeat scan for 13th. The fetal position was not permitting a satisfactory view. Plus, Kaiser’s weight at that point of time was slightly below what he wanted to see in the newborn. A tentative date of Jan 14th was set. The original plan was for me to travel to City X wit...

I read this story in my adolescence and it has remained with me as one of my favourites (I have too many favourites). (I don't remember the author though) The story reaches its turning point at the time when a girl who is sharing a house with a friend falls sick and is bedridden. Her health is poor and her spirits are low. One of the people living in their vicinity was this eccentric painter who always said that his best painting was yet to come. The painter and the girls interacted occasionally and shared conversations over various things. Anyways, the sick girl holds on mentally to this lonely creeper by her window and is distraught to see the creeper lose its lovely green leaves - a sign of the vine wearing away to a slow death. It starts raining hard one night. The sick girl looks out of the window and sees the leaves of the creeper succumb to the pressure of the falling raindrops. "I will not survive the night, just like this creeper" , she tells her friend. The room...

Well, quite unlike they show it in the movies, the sky does not rumble with thunder, winds do not blow and jackals do not howl at profound moments. In real life, without any gamma for special effects, words that come out in monotone are as powerful as any other words that had crackling associated with them. I walked into the room and took a nanosecond to register her tears. I told her what I had to. I asked her why she was crying. How did this all come to be? I have no answers to that. Not her faith or mine saved a baby that was so long in the making. Life does not tarry in black and white and is not a consort for Boolean Algebra. There are no absolute villains.

Found my mother crying in her room last night. I finally told her: "You should have given me the chance to say Goodbye. You should have let me hold her before she was taken away for her funeral. I will forever feel it." Silence. ^WiseGuy^

I feel hounded - take your medicines, eat this, come to bed, you have not had water for a while now, you are sitting on the PC far too long. She stays with me in whichever room I am. And I feel more like I am 13 rather than 33. I finally showed my irritation y'day and obviously, I have it all wrong. Love! Love makes the world go round, it makes emperors part with their thrones, and families hiding the death of the baby from the mother. I don't take calls these days. Or most of the calls I get. I avoid meeting inquisitive neighbours. I am glutted with 'Love!!!'. Then sometimes I do let people meet me, and they ask me to trust God. And I still am not even thinking much about how I put God in all this mess, because, I can't handle doing it, processing it. If my mother is fiercely taking care of me, because she loves me, how could everybody discount that maybe I had feelings for Lola too. Lola is my daughter, and I feel deceived - by everyone. They made the choices they...