The Birth of an Indian Daughter
Madhu was young when she had gotten married. She was still young when she gave birth to her daughter. At the age of 23, she was overwhelmed by the responsibilities that came with having to be both a wife and a mother. Not that she did not want it. It was expected out of her and eventually, she had wanted it for herself. But she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed as she held her daughter in her arms for the very first time. She cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was unsure whether they were happy tears or not.
Her mother stood by her side, clucking her tongue in disapproval. She wanted a grandson. She had hinted at it earlier by telling, no, reminding her of how she had always longed for a son but had the misfortune of having not one but three daughters.
“Your grandmother was so sure the third one was going to blessed,” she had said with a shake of her head. “No worries. A grandson will compensate for all the sorrow I had to go through.”
Her mother-in-law was seated at the far end of the room, engaged in a heated discussion with the doctor. The doctor seemed to be reprimanding her, and Madhu knew it had something to do with the birth of her daughter. The family unanimously wanted a boy child to grace their lives.
She looked around for her husband. Amidst such animosity, she wanted to know what was her husband’s stance. Before, when she was carrying, he never spoke about whether he had a preference. He always simply said he prayed for a healthy baby and she was too anxious to press him for more information, ask him about what he really wanted. Now, she was afraid. What if he, like their mothers, was disappointed in her for giving them a girl. What if he was disappointed in their child before she even got the chance to prove herself?
He came through the door at that exact moment, interrupting her chaotic thoughts. He took a tentative step forward and looked at the doctor as if asking for permission to enter. The doctor quickly ushered him to Madhu’s side.
He was quiet as he took her in, propped against the pillows, exhaustion clearly visible in her eyes, and holding a tiny bundle protectively against her chest. Madhu could see his hands shaking but was unable to interpret what that could mean. He bent down and caressed the baby’s head. His eyes welled up with tears.
“She is beautiful,” he whispered.
He stretched his hands as if to take the baby and Madhu immediately shifted her weight to hand him their daughter. Madhu started crying once again, startling her husband. She motioned for him to ignore her. He glanced at her worriedly for a while before his attention turned towards his daughter. There it was, the look of total devotion. She was bombarded with a mixture of emotions as she took in the sight. She was guilty of letting others influence her. To think, she almost wished it was a boy just to appease her family members. She was also jealous of her husband for having the liberty to be indifferent towards other’s views. He did not seem to care that they were sulking about not getting a grandson like how they wished, prayed, and hoped. Finally, she was relieved. She had her husband by her side as they entered this new and unknown phase of parenthood. Madhu wiped at her tears (these were happy tears, she was sure now) and gave her family a watery smile. She wasn’t all too sure of what is to come. They eventually had to worry about finances and how to best bring up a child. But for now, it was good. She felt good. The overwhelming feeling was subsiding, and she felt warm.
She scooted a little to her left and asked her husband to take a seat beside her. She laid her head on his shoulder and peered at their baby in his arms.
This was her baby, the one she had carried and looked after for the past 9 months. This bundle will grow to call her ‘amma’. She sniffled. Her husband dropped a kiss on top of her head.
“She is so beautiful,” he stated again.
They sat like that for a while in comfortable silence, watching their daughter sleep. When the baby let out a silent yawn, her small mouth opening in a perfect O and closing, they looked at each other and sighed in wonder.
