Guest Tickler | Jun 15, 2009

(Note: This post is in 3 parts. Click here for parts 2 and 3. The author has chosen not to reveal her identity.)

No one can tell what goes on between the person you were and the person you become. No one charts that anguish of descending into a private hell.

There are no maps of the changes.You just come out on the other side a different person.

This is my effort to chart my descent into hell. I am still on that journey and experiencing the changes. I don’t know what I will be in the end, but right now, all I know is I am not who I used to be: a strong, confident, assertive, happy and self-assured woman who had faith in herself.

Among the attributes that I have lost is faith – and faith is what I miss most.

Maybe because faith is the one quality to which all others were anchored. Or maybe because faith was something I was born with and everything else came later. Whatever the reason, I miss having faith and I hate the emptiness that is left in me.

Here is a diarized account of how I lost my faith.

31st December, 2005

We attended an amazing New Year’s bash at a beachside bungalow with friends and had a good time playing cricket on beach, making sand castles and doing things I haven’t done in years. We partied all night and I had so much fun.

January, 2006

The first week of this month was full of activities with many visits from good friends and close relatives and I enjoyed my time with them. By the beginning of the second week, I began to suspect that something was wrong with my body. I didn’t realize I was having a miscarriage because I did not know that I was pregnant in first place. I went for a blood test and misread it, only to be told later on that they could have saved baby if I had not misinterpreted the test results.
Did I lose my faith? Not then. Life went on and I had things to do. Did I grieve? No, I didn’t. I moved on, or at least I thought I did.

February-December, 2006

The remainder of year 2006 was spend taking care of my body. Doctors advised me to give myself a few months’ rest before we tried for another child. I was told to keep my weight down and to eat and exercise properly. As the year unfolded, I questioned myself about whether I really wanted to get pregnant again.

January, 2007

Another year began and soon I realized I was pregnant again. My mother was with me when the news came. I was happy but concerned at the same time. “Will everything be alright this time?” I kept asking myself. But I had so much faith in myself and in my body that eventually I convinced myself that nothing could go wrong. I was invincible.

June, 2007

All my medical reports were positive and promising and by June I began preparing for the new baby. By this time, my eldest daughter was emotionally ready to concede the throne to her yet-to-come sibling. We both secretly wanted a girl but my dear husband, like the sweetheart that he is, just wanted a healthy baby. Gender didn’t matter to him.

July, 2008

In July, I discovered I had CTS, carpel tunnel syndrome. In a few days it became so bad that I could not make the simplest move without wincing in pain. This was difficult for me to accept because I have been healthy all of my life. Never had even those stress headaches that plague most people. Now suddenly I was experiencing excruciating pain. The simplest of chores like lifting a cup or combing my daughter’s hair became a herculean task for me. In the months that followed, the situation deteriorated. I was told that some women get CTS during their pregnancy and it disappears after delivery. All I could do was bear the pain and wait for it to eventually go away.
Did I lose faith? No, I didn’t! Life went on because I had a home to run, a family to look after and dreams to fulfill. I had no time to feel sorry for myself so I bore it all well with smiles when possible and hope for the future.

1st – 4th September, 2008

I went in for my final sonography. I was told to go for the ‘colour doppler’ as it was the most accurate one. I obliged and discovered that the umbilical cord was wrapped around my baby’s face. I was advised not to be too concerned because this happens fairly often in pregnancies. Again my faith came to my rescue. I discussed all possible scenarios – the best and worst possible outcomes and how to handle any situation. I believed that I could deal with any situation. But things went horribly wrong. I went through long hours of labour pain only to be rushed to the emergency operation theatre with the umbilical cord tightly wrapped around my unborn child’s throat….he was being choked.
Did I lose my faith? No, I didn’t! I had full faith in God and my doctor and together they managed to save both mother and child.

5th September, 2008

It was evening when the doctor came rushing to me. I was half delirious and weak after giving birth. He told me that he would have to rush my newborn son to the ICU (intensive care unit) because his breathing was too rapid and his sugar levels were falling. My husband had gone to pick up my sister at the airport. There was no one with the baby so I had to call my mother and she went with the ambulance.
Did I lose my faith? No, I didn’t!

7th September, 2008

Only mothers are allowed in the ICU so I was really excited to visit my son for the first time, on the third day after my operation. The nurses guided me to the room. As I stood there, I found myself dumbstruck for a few minutes. I was choking with emotions because I realised that I couldn’t recognize my own baby from among the five in the room. After I explained my situation to a nurse, I was taken to the table-like bed where my son was sleeping – with a big needle stuck in his tiny arm supported by a small block of thermacol to keep his arm straight. Two ominous looking wires were stuck to his chest by tape; one small tube was down his tiny nose and a soother was taped – yes taped – to his mouth.

I just stood there in horror, unable to believe what I was seeing. The tears were rolling down my cheeks as I walked out and asked my sister to take me back to the hospital.

Back in the hospital, I went straight to bed and slept for a while. I woke up screaming and crying hysterically. I felt as if I were being choked. I was breathless and in between sobs, I told my worried sister what I saw in the ICU and how I went numb with shock. I told her that I wanted my baby. My doctor was called and I asked her why they had chosen to tape a soother to my son’s mouth. I was very upset. She explained that some babies become cranky and it affects others who are in serious condition so it had to be done. I was told that it happened only rarely and they would try not to do it again.

I steeled myself and began visiting the ICU everyday. Most of the times, I found my baby asleep but I talked to him anyway telling him how much we were looking forward to taking him home. I told him about the name we had chosen for him and introduced him to his family.
Did I lose my faith? No I didn’t. My baby was alive and healthy and I was thankful. The rest was my karma. I reasoned that I had to experience this ordeal. I was ready to move on. At least I thought so. Did I or didn’t I move on? I am still hoarding that pink soother that was taped to my son’s mouth. Whenever, I am irritated or frustrated, all I have to do is look at that soother and my resolve to give all I have to protect him becomes stronger.

October, 2007

I visited to my doctor for a checkup and before I left, she hugged me and told my sister, “You know something? Your didi …she is a very brave woman.”

December, 2007 – June, 2008

I make friends with caution and care because when I consider someone a friend, I give that person the right to hurt me. My dear friend R, whom I considered as the baby brother I never had, took advantage of that right one day. He told me that he had that dreaded ‘C’ word – cancer. I was devastated. In the next few months, I spent time counselling and supporting him while taking care of my kids.

During this time, I also suffered the passing away of an uncle. There are times in life, when family members choose to leave your circle of loved ones. Our families were not on speaking terms but that did not mean that I stopped caring about him. When I got news of my uncle’s sudden death, I felt very sad. I said a silent prayer for him asking God to give strength to his wife and daughters.

Before I had my son, I had a very social life. There was time for pottery, music, movies and partying. Now here I was dealing with post-delivery issues and the fact that my dear friend R, was losing his battle with cancer. One day I got a call from another friend, who told me me that my friend R, had finally lost his brave battle against cancer. I grieved deeply. I missed our chats and I missed him like hell.
Did I lose my faith? No I didn’t. Life goes on. I reasoned that he must be in a better place. I moved on. Did I? I don’t know.

5th September, 2008

I dreamt, I planned and executed my son’s first birthday party. It was such a success that people still recall the fun and excitement. After ages, I felt at peace again. I was truly happy.

11th September, 2008

I decided to go for my annual medical checkup. I always went in for checkups feeling confident. Nothing major came up except a complex cyst….a complex cyst? Come again? What’s that? I had no idea so I went home and googled it. I felt myself growing cold. The word that came up again and again was….cancer.
Did I lose my faith. No I didn’t. Life goes on.

12th September, 2008 (morning)

I went to see my doctor and she looked at my report. She assured me that there was nothing to worry about and asked me to go for a CA 125 test. We both pretended that it was a simple test and there was nothing to worry about. After leaving the clinic, I told my husband to go home to the kids while I went in for the test. He left me at the local pathology lab and went home. I then went in for the simple blood test to rule out cancer.
Did I lose my faith. No I didn’t.

12th September, 2008 (late evening)

I came out of the pathology lab and stood waiting for a cab or auto to take me home. I was on the road for 20 minutes when the reality of it all finally hit me. I had actually gone in for a test, the results of which could change my life forever. I began to feel cold and apprehensive. I was shaking. I slowly got out of the auto knowing I was going home as a different woman from the one who had walked out of the house that morning.
Did I lose my faith? Yes, I think it was at that moment I finally realised that my faith was beginning to wither away. I was growing disillusioned.