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A Letter From An Unborn Child Who Could Never Meet His Mom

Posted: June 14, 2019

An unborn’s child fictional letter to his mom. A poignant read which will tug at your heart strings.

I regret that we could not see each other even once — I did not get a chance to see your face, just to see if it mapped my mental image of you.

I knew you inside out…

I knew your routine. You would wake up early and paati would give you something bitter to drink. After having filter kaapi you visited your favourite temple to pray for my well-being. After returning home, you would help paati in preparing breakfast and lunch. Then you headed to work.

What struck me about your routine was your discipline and punctuality. You were always ready 5 minutes in advance and never hurried through any of your chores because there wasn’t a single lazy bone in you. Another thing that I could gather from your routine is gratitude. Your day began and ended with a prayer.

A working woman and a warm human being

At work and at home you were a superwoman. The go-to-person for everything and everyone. Not one person who came to you with need for help, was turned away. Even if you did not have an answer or solution, you certainly knew whom they could approach for the same. You were full of life, and given a chance would still run to the playground for a game of kho-kho or lagori but  you were not allowed to do so as the doctor had asked you to be mindful of the fact that I was in your womb.

Our conversations…

I remember those nine months I spent in the beautiful world you created for me. It is as if every breath you took was to ensure my safety. You would eat right but occasionally  indulge in your favorite chat items which I would crave for too. You had already delegated your train friends and colleagues to knit baby clothes. But you were also reserved while expressing your feelings about me. You did not want to shower me with unwanted attention although during those quite moments when it was just you and me, you would not stop talking to me.

The stigma of late pregnancy

I was waiting to come out and thrash all those people who would taunt you for the delay in conceiving me. How could they? Did they even know the hardships you have been through, the endless tests and treatments you subjected yourself too? How could they blame you for not giving the family a grandchild? Shouldn’t they know better? All those relatives and random strangers who blamed your weight for the the problems in conceiving, I wish they would accompany you for your gynaec visits to dismiss their fleeting assumptions.

I know the storms you have braved in silence. You endured all the barbs and snide remarks with a smile and not let anyone know how hurt and broken you would feel at times. The tears you have cried while no one was watching. The emotional upheaval that the medications and treatment would subject you too.

If only we could meet …

And then finally the day I was the most excited about, arrived. But, alas, we could not meet. I was born dead due to medical negligence. The hospital staff mishandled the delivery and you lost your first born. I am sure those same relatives came back to blame you instead of offering a helping hand.

But Amma, if I had been alive today, I would tell you how blessed I felt to be a part of the world you created for me with utmost care and love. I would hug you and tell you that it is okay to be lazy at times, to rebel, to stand-up and talk back to the people who do not respect you.

Ma, those nine months, my well-being was your only concern. Alas, I did not get the chance to be cradled by you. I could not kiss those palms that would keep caressing the abdomen at regular intervals. But Ma, I will always pray for your well-being wherever I am.

Image Source: Pexels

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