Opinion Suspense over

The morning dawned before I realised. A nurse entered the room and handed me a green OT gown and a towel,asking me to take a bath and get ready. Soon,I was on drip,painfully receiving numerous shots being administered through the channel. At dot 8.15,the door of the room opened again. The same nurse came in with an attendant and wheeled me out. As my family members sent prayers up and wished me luck,I closed my eyes to the moving ceiling.

I was in front of the OT door when I opened my eyes,and saw my husband who was there to bid his pregnant wife a final goodbye. The look at his face told me I was not the only one who was tense.

Inside,everything seemed to happen in a blur. I was shifted to the operation table,which was so narrow that I could barely fit. I wondered if they had something wider for even bulkier patients. They checked my blood pressure again and it had,quite expectedly,gone up a few notches further. One by one,several masked men came up and introduced themselves – anaesthetist,paediatrician et al – assuring me that their presence was to ensure my wellbeing and that of my child. The prick on my back had started working and I could no longer feel any sensation waist down. My doctor entered the theatre soon and I waited for the drama to begin. But the OT attendants put up a screen in front of me,blocking my view of the act. So,here was a drama that was staged “curtains” down.

My doctor told me there was nothing to worry and I closed my eyes. Soon,I heard her voice again as she said: “Just don’t worry… you will see blood,but don’t panic. We do it every day.” Wondering what was the screen for in that case,I opened my eyes,only to realise the words were not meant for me,but for the nurse assisting the doctor. It was apparently her first day inside the OT. I could not decide whether I should sympathise with the other first-timer there,or worry. I could hear my heart beat faster.

Within moments,the clinking instruments,the doctors’ low-tone conversations and my intuition told me the procedure had started. Though I tried to stay calm,I am not sure if I was successful. For,the senior and friendly anaesthetist played “Om Jay Jagdish Hare…” on his mobile phone for me and kept replaying it,evidently to calm my nerves.

I don’t know if the bhajan was of any help,but all my anxiety vanished the moment one of the masked men,holding a crying baby – my baby – passed by me on his way to the paediatrician’s desk. I smiled even as a sense of relief after the end of all the wait,expectations and anxiety flowed from my eyes in the form of tears.

I asked the doctors if it was a boy or a girl,but all that I was told was: “You will know soon.” These were the last words that I remember before the sedative started its effect.

I was groggy when I woke up to so many smiling faces. I don’t remember who had eventually answered the question I had asked inside the OT,but I somehow knew by then that I had borne a baby boy. I was back to my senses by late evening,but it was not until the next afternoon that I was finally allowed to see and hold him.

I had opted for a C-sec because I did not have the self-confidence to endure the pain to be able to actively participate in the process to bring a baby into this world through a normal delivery. This being my first pregnancy,I was scared about the surgical process too,and did not read up on the subject,for I had thought that might make me more nervous.

But my suggestion to all first-timers will be to acquaint yourself with all knowledge possible before a C-sec delivery,or even a normal one. I was not much aware about the preparations required before the surgery and the care needs to be taken after it either. It was embarrassing to see the bewildered look on the nurses’ faces seeing my ignorance about certain procedures.

Lying on the hospital bed,I was,however,not thinking about all this that day. My baby was to spend his first night on this earth in the nursery a few steps away and all my thoughts centred around him. My husband’s enthusiastic description of our child and other family members’ comments on his appearance and activities only made me sad over being deprived of his sight. The only baby to have been born in the hospital in the last one week or so,he was alone in the room,and yes,I was worried. I had become a mother,after all.