There are certain things you dread post a trauma. Or in my case a loss. Things that remind you of what is no more or drive home the point that that loss is a permanent one. One niggles that painful nub tentatively, not quite sure how badly it may hurt or bother and sometimes one is pleasantly surprised at how many steps towards “normal” life have been taken quite inadvertently.

Yesterday was M’s baby shower. Even a month ago, I was not in the mood. M and I are babily connected, something that I always considered a blessing. Last time we had daughters 20 hours apart and this time too, we were going to have kids within the week of each other. So I had no idea how I was going to feel and this time, I didn’t want to do something for someone else that didn’t feel good for me too.

Truth be told, I am so so excited to have a baby around again that while yes, there are sad pangs, the anticipation of that baby smell and gurgles is a happy high and one that selfishly, I want to celebrate. I have also realized I like people getting together. It is one of things that in my currently enlightened epiphanic state, I am in the mood for.
It heals. Laughing groups of people with pretty lights and decorations. Like on my birthday also.

So we went all out for M, who mind you isn’t exactly the ideal person to inspire celebration. She is obsessive, guilt-ridden, suffocatingly affectionate when in the mood and massively annoying and a control freak all in one. Yes, lovably so, but still. To remain consistent in wanting to do something for her requires Herculean effort, even though it comes from the heart. Many pompoms, hearts and raindrops and clouds and food and colour and friends and cousins later, we were all achey painy, the kind of tired  only good parties filled with close people inspire.

April has been all about showers of both the rain and baby mama sort. It has rained, leaving everything cleaner, greener, lighter. It is raining outside as we speak and I am already looking forward to going over to Mama’s later for chai and pakoras. I feel grounded. Surrounded by the right people. Happy enough to ignore the minuses when they come to needle me.

three months later.

“Some people, they can’t just move on, you know, mourn and cry and be done with it. Or at least seem to be. But for me… I don’t know. I didn’t want to fix it, to forget. It wasn’t something that was broken. It’s just…something that happened. And like that hole, I’m just finding ways, every day, of working around it. Respecting and remembering and getting on at the same time. ” - The Truth About Forever.
For Zo and Chotu, as M has nicknamed him, I love you both. Nice to say it out loud sometimes.

Collateral Damage

I think I first came across this term post 9/11 when Afghanistan got attacked and all losses were being termed as “collateral damage”. It brings to mind the idea of a greater good but where little pieces- little people?- suffer in the consequence. Visually to me it meant aiming the ball for the target but not caring if the vase got knocked down in the process. The term unnerved me because it meant we had to decide what was more important and not care about the other. Not exactly the best parenting call as I could see it. However, as the years have gone by I must admit the term has made more sense- not in the peace war kind of way but in understanding that sometimes, it simply cannot be helped.

I am not a dwell-in-the-dark sort. I get derailed like the average person but after the jolt, I steady up and some odd combination of elements in me has always helped me see things a bit differently. Maybe it’s less normal and maybe it’s more. That isn’t the point.The point is collateral damage. Things that got blasted in the process of something else.

So post Jan 15, which was the day I found out I had miscarried, I have been darker than usual. Certain parts of who I possibly always was have asserted themselves more emphatically, leaving me a little confused, a little lost because it was new to me. For one I have been angry. Not angry at the universe or the powers at what happened- but angry at people for thinking that I am strong enough to deal with it. The number of people who threw words like “grace” “brave” “kind” “inspirational” “strength of faith” at me has been disconcerting. I hadn’t wanted to be all these things- I wanted weak and coddled. I wanted people to call me, look out for me and check in on me, over and over. Not resume normal process because they thought I was fine, even if I looked it.

Two, I have been unforgiving. To me, it is not okay anymore to be emotionally stunted. People who claim they don’t know what to say or come and skirt around the topic awkwardly- well that is simply not good enough. As per your role in life, if I expect something from you, by now we are at the point where you must also deliver. It isn’t ok to vanish. Radio silence post a friend losing her baby is a not allowed. And no, it doesnt matter at this point what you are going through. For those 3 minutes (or a few more) it is your turn to be there for me. Just like I would drop everything to be there for you if you ever, God Forbid lost your child, an idea which I hope you never have to go remotely near, ever. Normally, I would shout/confront/deal. This time I had nothing. To a normal person that is scary because when you have nothing left to say, well, then there is really nothing left to say.

The three month mark is a few days away. The doctor told me we can try for another baby after a 3 month break, if we still want to. Maybe the last extent of my inner healing has been connected to this date. Maybe post April 15, I will be fine and all that got rubbled in my reactions will miraculously rebuild itself because I will in one sense, feel whole again. I don’t know. What I do know is that I have lost a couple of relationships which meant a lot to me and which I am not, currently, at all in the mood to rebuild. I also lost a lot of my sense of self- I reacted in ways that were alien to me and which threw me off in their intensity. The damage that ensued was not anything I could control and for once I was ok to let it be damanged without immediately trying to fix it. I am much better now I think. I started doing those things which are inherently me almost automatically at some point. I was holding back, I could feel it but somewhere along the process, those impulses returned. Some peace was made, some stuff still lies there untouched. Collateral damage is an unncessary painful thing, yes, but it shows you so much more of who you ought to be, should be, could be, can be.

musically delicious.

You know you need to change the music you are listening to when your 2 year old excitedly tells your 5 year old she had a “hookbar” before coming to pick him from school. #trashymusicrocks #parenting

tumblings- i.

“Shouldn’t the world stop? Don’t they know what has happened to me?” – Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom.

As I mentally approach the three month mark of the miscarriage with some trepidation, the mad clarity is not any more comfortable. I am edgy, anxious and impatient. I don’t see why everyone is still unchanged by what has internally happened to me. I am angry too. Not at the the loss but at people’s inability to use a sense of loss to make a postive change. “You do realize this is all very personal, dont you? It’s happened to you so you have the opportunity to change for the better, Others not so much, ” says my preachy voice of reason. I call her preachy to be mean even though I know what she says makes sense. “It has happened to me, but everything should change. Even if just a little bit” I insist.

Perhaps thats the part of the healing I am unwilling to address. That to so many others, nothing is different and when they see me laughing or smiling, they forget that to me everything is. Why is it so important that they know that I am changed inside? Maybe because the change (not only in me but in others also) is all the memory I will ever have of the babies who are not with me.

The Lily Diaries – tips on staying moisturized.

Turn around and finding lily smearing my favourite cream all over herself liberally.
Me: what do you think you are doing???
Lily: Puttin’ cweam!
Me in utter exasperation: Kaisee HO tum Leila!!
Lily: Sho shoft, Mama.

The Lily Diaries: Spiderman vs Batman.

Backseat: Lily and Nadi playing with Batman and Spiderman figures.
Nadi swipes at Lily’s Spiderman with Batman.
She gives him a look and states emphatically “I ANGRY!“
Nadi obviously, tries again. 
She pins him down with a glare, very familiar to me. “I SAD!!“
Feeling third time might be the charm, Nadi executes another swash on behalf of Batman only to have her finally lose her temper and smack the seat hard saying, “I NO LIKE IT!!“

Front seat: K and I in agony over trying to keep our expressions straight and not burst out laughing at this two year old, whose vocabulary and expression of disapproval can match that of her 60-something Headmistress grandmother.