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Why?

I am the sort of person who asks too many questions. Why did you not tell me? I have hounded people around me with that question. Backed with the pseudo moral high-ground I now seem to have, I have asked them this, punctured their ears with my question. Not too many questions followed the answer I got. Love. And medical advice. That they had to hold on to ensure the recovery of the person who remained. I asked the question directly and indirectly, and got the same answers. They made a decision they considered best in the situation. What would I have done? I was asked the question. I would have told. Let the final goodbye be said. Yes, I would have compromised the recovery of the person, but the bereaved would live with a lesser (who can define 'lesser' here, anyways) pain. Because of whatever happened, I will always carry the upset I feel at not having had a chance to hold her close, and say my goodbye. I have even more upsets, the stupid things I did, and the tacks I kept beyo...
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Too Much, Not Much

It has been 14 days since Lola’s birth. Family had descended on me for a while and I was itching for some silence and a break from all the attention that I was getting. In another time, Lola would have shared the ‘limelight’ and my focus would also have been on her rather than me getting it all. One installment of the family left yesterday and today I find myself reclaiming some of the territory inside my home. Moving around is better, with suggestions and unsolicited help flying lesser at me. I have begun visiting some of my old net haunts. Reminders are everywhere. I opened my ‘official’ e-mail id and it had ‘my pregnancy this week’ newsletters waiting for me. I cannot say for sure that grief sits in my heart. A part of my heart is stone cold. I animal-howled on 22nd and since then have infrequent bouts of crying. The pain/anger courses through my veins, and does not sit plum in one place. When very agitated, I just begin to shiver and that’s that. Nothing that warm blankets can’t c...
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I Should Have Known

...On the night of 19th when my breasts became hard and sore to touch, the nurses brought me hot water bottles rather than my baby. I should have known. ...Birdman was apparently away to Very Big City with our baby. Every SMS update sent to me about her after 16th Jan was fake. I was a donkey eating at his trough. I should have known. ...Visitors who came to see me in the hospital did not look me straight in the eye. I should have known. ...My mother sounded reluctant every time I asked her on a timeline on when my stitches would be cut and I could travel to Very Big City. I should have known. ...I grieved at how many pricks and tubes were affixed to my little baby while she lay cold and unfeeling at the bottom of an earth pit fatigued from all the effort she put into staying alive. I should have known. ...Family dropped clues on how oxygen deprivation could affect the brain. I spelt it out for them. I told them that Lola was my daughter even if she came out r-e-t-a-r-d-e-d from the o...
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