Two Pregnancies, Twenty Years Apart

I was around 29 years old when I conceived my first child, my daughter. It was a reasonably smooth pregnancy, where I was well taken care of by my husband, Amma / Appa and extended family. The only hiccup was around the 8th month, when I developed oedema (swelling of the feet) and a slightly volatile BP.

Three weeks before my daughter was born, I had to get admitted for a day to get diuretics through IV. This was necessary since diuretics can also drain the amniotic fluid and hence a simple oral medicine wasn’t an option. This one night stay in the nursing home where I was going to eventually deliver was smooth - almost like a dry run. In fact, I shared the room with another lady, who went into labour in the evening. She had a normal delivery, almost 12 hours later. When she came back into the room, she looked absolutely exhausted. I asked her how she was and whether the baby was a girl or a boy. Funnily, she said she didn’t know, she was so tired she hadn’t even bothered to check. That was funny and scary at the same time.

Three weeks later, I woke up one morning and felt the movements of the baby had reduced. My husband had left for work and I was home with my parents. Appa usually had a simple solution for most health issues - to clear your bowels. That's what he suggested. But clearly that wasn’t the problem. So, after I showered and had some yummy, hot dosas for breakfast (though I didn’t really relish them), we went to the nursing home.

Once the doctor checked me, he said that the baby wasn't moving because the amniotic fluid had reduced. Given that I had taken some medicines a few weeks back, this seemed related to that. The doctor said it would be best to do a C-section, a normal delivery could cause distress to the baby and the mother. Presented this way, the only way to go was a C-section. To be honest, I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask what could have caused this? Was it to do with how the IV was administered etc?

We were asked if we would like to choose a date and time (as people apparently do when it is a C-section). We said we would like to schedule it as per whatever the doctor felt right. Given that we tend to trust doctors fully (almost blindly) irrespective of how much we read and know about things, it hurts when the doctor doesn't respect that trust. I say this only because I noticed much later that my discharge report said "Elective C-section", which it clearly wasn't.

Anyway, the surgery went off smoothly. I was quite calm, the only thing that bothered me was how cold the OT was. I was fully aware of the entire time the surgery was done. As the doctor showed me my daughter for the first time, emotions overtook me. I remember noting the time of her birth before I got sedated into a deep sleep. I was worried that in all the commotion of stitching me up, the staff will forget the exact time. It was 9:42 am on September 4th 2003.

Even today (as it was 22 years ago), C-section is frowned upon - sometimes even judging the woman as if she took the easy way out. Many young mothers who you end up making friends with in fact make comments like "I would never have opted for a C-section" or "I was always very active, so I knew I would have a normal delivery".

Unfortunately, even if a C-section is perhaps easy at the time of delivery but it definitely is not for a long time after. The healing period is longer, you don’t end up getting down to any form of physical activity sooner (not because you necessarily cannot, but because everyone around you advises you not to).

All said and done, we were happy that we came home with a healthy, happy child within a week of giving birth.

Delivery is one thing, getting the hang of breast feeding is quite another. I was totally clueless and by day two, I had sore nipples that were bleeding virtually and I thought maybe this is how it is. I remember hugging Amma and saying I cannot imagine how you did this. She also went along without realising what was happening. When one of the junior doctors (who was quite sweet) came visiting, I felt comfortable enough to tell her what I was feeling and she figured that I was hurting and prescribed some ointment / cream etc to give me relief. Much later I was thinking, why do doctors / hospital staff assume that women should come equipped with this knowledge. Why can’t they gently train her and better still, make sure that this is also part of the checklist of the parameters they are checking for.

"Each pregnancy is unique. Enjoy your journey."

While there was a lot of noise around on what we should / shouldn't do as new parents, we found a very sensible paediatrician who guided us very well.

His advice wasn't always easy but always beneficial in the long run: whether it was not prescribing any medicines (let alone antibiotics) unnecessarily or insisting on only breast milk till my daughter turned a year old.

Our decision to have a second kid was taken almost after our daughter turned four. So, my son came long almost 6 years after my daughter. While we took our time with the decision, we couldn’t be happier with the fact that we decided to have two kids. How they will bond with each other in the future we don't know, whether we will have both their support when we need it, we don't know but personally, each parenting journey has been fulfilling and learning about how to be better parents (or even better individuals) is something that has been invaluable.

When I went in for one of my regular check-ups during my second pregnancy (we did go to the same doctor because it seemed the most convenient choice), I was told that my iron was low and I needed to take injections for the same. I went to the nursing home to get the first injection. After the injection, the junior doctor referred to me by another name, Vaishali. I got a bit worried and asked if I did indeed need injections, or was there a confusion. Instead of clearing the confusion, they mocked me. The fact that the doctor seemed so much in a rush that all consultations happened with him standing (as if wanting to leave any minute) and then this incident made us evaluate other gynaecologists and we found a very good doctor in Dr. V Venkatraman.

His nursing home was a bit far, in Andheri East. And I once jokingly said we are worried that if I go into labour and get stuck in traffic, I will have to deliver somewhere near the Andheri subway. He said it’s a good joke, but in the 30 years of his practice, this had never happened. He was very calm, always patiently answering my questions. The best part was he was fluent in multiple languages and hence also put both Amma / my mother -in-law at ease.

It was once when he was checking my old file (of my daughter’s delivery) that he mentioned that the symptoms mentioned didn’t necessitate a C-section, so why did I opt for it. I was in for a shock to know that the discharge report said that. While lot of people said that the chances of me having a normal delivery this time around was negligible, the doctor said we will not pre-decide anything and will take a call as things unfolded.

On the day before my son’s birth, I had the same feeling of fewer movements. We went to the doctor; he assured me everything was fine. He asked me to go back home and see how I felt through the night. When I felt the same way the next morning, he said he will trust my judgement and decided to get me prepared for my second C-section. When he was doing the surgery, he said it was a good thing we decided to take this route because by then my stitches from the earlier C-section had stretched to their limit and waiting any longer may have cause them to break open and I might have had to be taken in for an emergency surgery.

While I was better prepared for the modus operandi, and the initial struggles with breast feeding, the pain post - surgery was more severe. It could be attributed to the fact that I was older, it was my second C-section. Also, truth be told, while I was active during the pregnancy because of my daughter, I did take a longish break from work and so I was more sluggish through the last few months of this pregnancy.

We were of course home sooner this time around and settled into a routine with both the kids. And I did have great help as well as family to support me. On days when we would get super exhausted, we would always wonder why we cribbed about being tired when we had only one kid.

Twelve years later, I had to go under the knife again for a hysterectomy – I had uterine fibroids and an ovarian cyst. At that point I did wonder if some of this had to do with the fact that I didn’t have a normal delivery. I will never know!