I often think twice about sharing publicly about my experiences of pregnancy. Not for the typical Indian reasons (I’ve heard people are afraid of being cursed by jealous or malicious onlookers? Or they don’t want to have to admit to the pain of miscarriage if they lose the baby). But the reason for my second thoughts is because I know there are so many who are longing for babies themselves, and it may be a source of great pain to them to hear the raptures of yet another pregnant mama. And yet, I remember rejoicing over my friends getting married when I was mourning my own loneliness. Somehow these two realities coexist.
I’ve been around a lot of pregnant women. And yet somehow there were a lot of pregnancy surprises. I had no idea, for example, that acidity and indigestion would become a daily occurrence for the first time in my life, practically from the first month. Or that my body would start changing almost immediately. Or that I could feel the baby’s movements from halfway through the pregnancy and not just at the end. I didn’t realize that part of the first trimester struggles was not just physical exhaustion but emotional lows too. I’d sleep for hours during the day and then lie in bed feeling depressed and overwhelmed by my dirty house and because I wasn’t doing anything productive (I thought). I was reminded by another young mum that making a baby is the most productive and creative work I could ever do.
The good news was I didn’t have first trimester nausea (only threw up once, on Christmas morning, a few minutes into Christmas Mass, at my in-law’s village church, probably because I was wearing a tight saree blouse.. I had to rush out, threw up in the church compound and got taken home by my husband. Did I become the talk of the town? I still don’t know.) Also, once the second trimester started, I realized that a lot of my sad thoughts and outlook on life went away, which is when I realized that my hormones had been playing cruel tricks with my emotions.
I realized how privileged I am (yet again) as other mothers, old and young, told me their pregnancy experiences- living in a joint family and expected to continue doing household chores while fighting nausea and exhaustion; or throwing up early in the morning and then leaving for work; or apparently two generations ago , working in the fields while pregnant, giving birth, and then getting back up to work in the fields the same day. I on the other hand got to stay home all of my pregnancy, the part time work I do is all online and flexible, and I have an accommodating and supportive husband who not only lets me moan to him about every tiny discomfort I’m feeling, but would cook when I couldn’t, or run to the store (pre-COVID) to buy mountains of junk food when I demanded it (please don’t ask how many packets of chilli limon potato chips I ate a few months ago).
I’ve been thinking more about ‘my body, my choice’ of late, and the tragedy of abortion. Never before has it been so obvious that this is not MY body - there is another body inside my body, that squirms and hiccups and kicks and jerks, regardless of me. It’s so crazy and yet so cool... a tiny human being growing inside me. I can hardly grasp it. So I occasionally google pictures of ‘baby in mother’s womb 31 weeks’ etc so I can try to wrap my mind around this reality and miracle hidden by a big tummy.
My husband and I both feel a desire to one day be involved in a pro-life ministry, providing support and encouragement and resources to women going through crisis pregnancies, creating more awareness of the truth and beauty of the life and personhood of these tiny, vulnerable human beings, and perhaps creating an easily accessible network of resources including healing retreats for post-abortive women. I’m sure there are Catholics (especially religious sisters) who do help women in need, but there is so little awareness and so much shame involved that I’m not surprised abortion is as common as it is.
I recall a correspondence I had with a self-professed religious Catholic woman who was not on board with my pro-life stance. She said ‘Of course, children are a gift from God, and that is why most of the time they are referred to as Angels. But would you consider the child borne due to a rape to be the same? I would term this as an unexpected pregnancy and would leave it to the woman to decide what she would like to do with her body. This is not anyone’s place to judge.’
Unwanted or longed for, unexpected or eagerly awaited, with special physical or mental needs or perfectly healthy, the result of a happy marriage or a traumatic rape, a baby is a BABY and deserves to be loved and cared for, not discarded. Our job is to love and help BOTH mama and baby when they need it most.
I have more thoughts, which is why I’m going to write a Part 2.
This topic is extremely relevant today.. I'm glad you are talking about the right of a baby to life and love. Mother Teresa be happy!
ReplyDeleteThoughts 👌
ReplyDelete❤❤❤
ReplyDelete❤️❤️❤️👌👌👌🙌
ReplyDelete