CREATIVE NON-FICTION : Warrior Twins by Nithyalakshmi.S
When we talk of warriors what comes immediately to our minds are the strong men with the immovable steel armour they wore to protect themselves. That was how I had pictured a warrior until I was 29 years old, when my two little girls stepped into this beautiful world. Like everyone, I had dreamt a lot about how my delivery was going to be. My husband and I are freelance photographers and we had become friendly with the gynaecologist. I had visualised him taking beautiful pictures of my babies soon after they were to come out. We had been longing for it.
Alas! The great Almighty had other plans for my big day. He had decided that two of my best men were not to be by my side. One was my father who was there holding my hands until I was wheeled into the operation theatre. He waited outside anxiously for some time but had to rush to catch his flight to attend to his already scheduled official work. My husband Vivek, with the comfort that the delivery date was a month away, had packed his bags and gone for a pre-planned shoot in the coffee estates of Chikmagalur. He was not contactable on the mobile. Despite all the advancements in technology, it had failed me. Vivek was not reachable despite innumerable tries.
Pain and grief, I could feel them running through me head to toe. My heart and my head had become so heavy that everyone around me was asking me to calm down. My two little twins came into this beautiful world. They were taken out, one by one, cleaned and wrapped. I was allowed to hold them - each for a few seconds. They were then taken to be shown to my dear ones waiting outside. Straight from there, they went to Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). I couldn't even get a clear glimpse of them as I wasn’t wearing my spectacles. I never knew where the NICU in that hospital was located until then. I could hear everyone saying “Oh! they looked so lovely, so pink, just like dolls”. Yes, they were all of that but only when they were kept wrapped.
The first time when I saw them clearly, I realised that they had wires connected to their nose, mouth and hands. Their hands were so tiny that they had something made of thermocol or styrofoam to give them support for the wires to be connected. There were so many apparatuses around them which kept beeping. I could see their bones and when I fondly wished to hold them in my hands, the nurse told me that I cannot do so for long, as they can’t be off the wires for too long a time.
My twin girls had a battle to fight and a war to be won for their survival. Though I had my babies’ right in front of me, I was shattered. I started blaming myself for their condition. I was flooded with calls and messages for the wellbeing of my twins and self. However I was only interested in talking to the paediatrician who was the sole hope I was clinging onto. The only liberty I had was to walk in and out of the NICU as and when I wished. Soon my hubby joined me to give much needed comfort.
Never have I been inside a NICU and I was destined to spend the next 18 days there. The walks to my room where I went just to shower and eat was so difficult for me. I wished I could just disapparate like in the Harry Potter books so that I wouldn’t have people look at me and say ‘Poor girl, her twin babies are in the NICU after they were prematurely born’. I had forgotten the pain that I had due to the Caesarean. The only reason I ate was because I could pass on the nutrition to my babies by feeding them. I spent my days and nights, sitting right beside my girls, talking to them and kept telling that the NICU wasn’t their home.
Eighteen days in NICU, they fought the battle of their lives. Even thereafter, life wasn’t easy for them for the next one year.
Finally, “THEY WON, YES THEY WON THE BATTLE AND THE WAR”.
Alas! The great Almighty had other plans for my big day. He had decided that two of my best men were not to be by my side. One was my father who was there holding my hands until I was wheeled into the operation theatre. He waited outside anxiously for some time but had to rush to catch his flight to attend to his already scheduled official work. My husband Vivek, with the comfort that the delivery date was a month away, had packed his bags and gone for a pre-planned shoot in the coffee estates of Chikmagalur. He was not contactable on the mobile. Despite all the advancements in technology, it had failed me. Vivek was not reachable despite innumerable tries.
Pain and grief, I could feel them running through me head to toe. My heart and my head had become so heavy that everyone around me was asking me to calm down. My two little twins came into this beautiful world. They were taken out, one by one, cleaned and wrapped. I was allowed to hold them - each for a few seconds. They were then taken to be shown to my dear ones waiting outside. Straight from there, they went to Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). I couldn't even get a clear glimpse of them as I wasn’t wearing my spectacles. I never knew where the NICU in that hospital was located until then. I could hear everyone saying “Oh! they looked so lovely, so pink, just like dolls”. Yes, they were all of that but only when they were kept wrapped.
The first time when I saw them clearly, I realised that they had wires connected to their nose, mouth and hands. Their hands were so tiny that they had something made of thermocol or styrofoam to give them support for the wires to be connected. There were so many apparatuses around them which kept beeping. I could see their bones and when I fondly wished to hold them in my hands, the nurse told me that I cannot do so for long, as they can’t be off the wires for too long a time.
My twin girls had a battle to fight and a war to be won for their survival. Though I had my babies’ right in front of me, I was shattered. I started blaming myself for their condition. I was flooded with calls and messages for the wellbeing of my twins and self. However I was only interested in talking to the paediatrician who was the sole hope I was clinging onto. The only liberty I had was to walk in and out of the NICU as and when I wished. Soon my hubby joined me to give much needed comfort.
Never have I been inside a NICU and I was destined to spend the next 18 days there. The walks to my room where I went just to shower and eat was so difficult for me. I wished I could just disapparate like in the Harry Potter books so that I wouldn’t have people look at me and say ‘Poor girl, her twin babies are in the NICU after they were prematurely born’. I had forgotten the pain that I had due to the Caesarean. The only reason I ate was because I could pass on the nutrition to my babies by feeding them. I spent my days and nights, sitting right beside my girls, talking to them and kept telling that the NICU wasn’t their home.
Eighteen days in NICU, they fought the battle of their lives. Even thereafter, life wasn’t easy for them for the next one year.
Finally, “THEY WON, YES THEY WON THE BATTLE AND THE WAR”.
Nicely written
ReplyDeleteNicely written
ReplyDeleteSuper she is the best mother of my two little warriors
ReplyDeleteSuper Nithaya God has given enough to overcome all the problems and won the battle. Hope now you're enjoying the twins activity and michieves. Great God bless you all for happiness and peaceful life. 💐🙏
ReplyDelete