How I Sailed Through My Pregnancy Alone

Nine months sang a bleeding ballad of an inner battle. My husband went to Singapore on work permit; left me alone in Hyderabad at a time when I was on the edge of creating another life.

My seething heart was clamouring for love as loneliness plunged me into darkness.

“You are married into a family where only dowry and male heir are expected from a daughter-in-law,” echoed my inner voice.

First trimester brought nausea and fatigue. Facing severe food aversions, I cooked but did not look at it. My routine would get over by early evening followed by bouts of negativity resulting into incessant tears ripping apart my very existence.

Once I chanced upon a meditation channel which was to fill rest of my evenings. An hour long practice and I would wake up next morning having conquered yet another night of loneliness! This bond with divinity increased freedom and decreased bondage from discomposure. I gained confidence to live, work and smile.

No one to communicate, cook or care for me, I would call my husband (in vain) requesting him to shift me to my parents’ house.

From antenatal appointments, ultrasounds to waking up at 6 am to fetch fresh veggies, from using toilet in backyard at 3 am to fighting uninvited guests like rodents and lizards, I fought all my fears.

My husband stopped financial support due to job instability. I bought groceries from what I earned as a teacher. I learnt to economize my needs to make both ends meet.

Diwali’15 arrived! “Not going home as doctor restricted travel,” I sobbed talking to my friend Rashi. “Call your husband,” she suggested. “Husband won’t allow my native family here nor will he come,” tears welled into my eyes as I answered. Something miraculous happened that day!

“Ma, we two are more than enough for each other this Diwali,” my baby reassured. I got up, lit lamps, prayed and slept off at 7 pm amidst the sound of bursting crackers.

A week long Christmas break at work sank my heart! I poured myself into DIY (Do It Yourself) art activities creating lamps and baskets from waste material. My spirit rejoiced in painting, stitching and soaking in sun. It helped me ward off negative thoughts. Another lesson unfolded- money is not everything in life, being resourceful is!

Unshackled from materialism and tryst with spirituality brought peace. Second and third trimester were spent in abundance. I did the routine with élan.

I called my husband from hometown amidst labour pain asking him to come. “I will see,” he said. He did not come.

Birth to a ‘baby boy’ brought my mother-in-law to the hospital, “You’ll start running within a week. Bring my grandson ‘home’,” she said. Triumph over odds and refusal to succumb in the face of heart-wrenching trauma only made me a stronger, braver and resourceful person. No matter what the feeling was – anger, discomfort, resistance, condemnation, judgement or fear- I hunted out for solutions.

Source :

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