***
That was the last line I wrote on this platform, some 6 months ago. And I thank every single one of them, because it took every prayer that could be heard, every blessing that could be given, and every miracle that could be spared to bring my girls home safe and healthy.
The short version of the story is long by itself.
On July 26th, in her 26th weeks of pregnancy, Ammu decided to check her BP. Even though we brought the BP monitor the month we knew she was pregnant, we hadn't used it yet. The reading showed 160/110. We decided to go to the Hospital and they admitted her for observation. We would be at a hospital every day for the next sixty days.
By July 29th, it was confirmed that Ammu had Pregnancy induced hypertension, and had to be kept under medication in observation for a longer period. The good news amongst all this was that the baby's growth and vitals were not affected by any of this.
On August 2nd at 12pm, the Doctor informed me that her body was not responding positively, even to the maximum allowed dosages of medications. The only solution was to terminate the pregnancy. It took fifteen minutes to understand that the jargon meant the baby would have to brought out in an emergency procedure. But I dare you to be in my shoes for those fifteen minutes and come out laughing at the confusion it caused.
The baby's weight was still below 1kg and since Ammu's body was still fighting, the doctors were able to push the cesarean to August 6th. In the meantime, neonatologists informed me about the complications that could arise for my child and the survival chances.
On August 6th, SHE was born to us. Weighing in at just above one kg, she put on her gloves and took her stand onto the right of the boxing ring. Having had to come to the fight three months early, she needed all the help she could get. Thankfully for the three of us, the doctors and the nurses were very adamant in providing that.
We got to see her for 10 minutes in a day. Touching her was a luxury. Seeing her without tubes on her face took 6 weeks. The infection scare in first week of September almost stripped us of our faith in this world. None of this was how we imagined our first two months with our child, and we pray that no one else has to go through the same.
There are a thousand sights I can't unsee, and a thousand words that I can't unhear. Even though they are fading into the horizon, I felt the need to write this line down here for eternity.
***
To our Daughter,
Between February and September of 2019, you were presented with multiple opportunities to just go away. Your mom doing heavy gym work in the early weeks of February was the beginning. Of course, we didn't know that you had decided to make your mom your home at that point in time.
We came to know about that only the day after we ran and finished our first 10km Marathon. The marathon your mom ran with a nagging pain in the stomach. At both instances, you could have quit and no one would have blamed you. But you stuck on.
Come the end of July 2019, your mom was lucky to have the thought to check her BP and that helped in identifying the pregnancy induced hypertension and subsequent pre-eclampsia. One in a lakh pregnant women are diagonized with this. You and your mother went through this to allow the other 99,999 have a better entry to this world.
You were born extremely Pre term in the 27th week of pregnancy at just above 1kg. You had barely functioning internal systems. The odds were stacked heavily against you. You could have quit, and no one would have blamed you. But you fought on.
Luck was on our side even in these dark times. You had the least of complications and other issues. We were blessed with having the best of the worst experience possible.
99% of the babies hardly leave their mother's shadow in the first six months. You fought a battle alone in an ICU. You have proved your grit and determination against your peers. When you feel down in the future, as is wont to happen, I want you to remember this. You were born a fighter.
Love,
Dad.
