Time when it took place: 11:45 PM, May 4th
The C-Section just got over. I have just walked down from the Emergency Wing to the corridor where, upon my asking, I have been told that the shadow of a nurse with a new born baby in her arms has been seen lurking around. As I spot the nurse who is about to take the baby to the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) section, she stops on her tracks. I am accompanied by my nephew who has just graduated from college. The nurse, who has by now realized from her past experience that we are not stalkers, looks at us and asks ‘who is the father?’ How comforting!! Out of the two clueless zombie like faces, you could not figure out who has the more bewildered zombie look of the two??
For the past 9 months, I have been living with the feeling that I don’t quite look the part. That I could do a little bit of growing myself. That, at 36, it’s a tad bit early to step into a father’s role. And then, the Nurse gives me THAT look. How reassuring! The damage is only temporary though. For I have told myself umpteen times before that I have lived enough, gotten bruised enough and philosophised life enough to take a quantum leap into another ‘world.’
I push away all the above mentioned thoughts and look at the nurse and exclaim ‘yeah…that would be me.’ She looks at me and says ‘well, here you go then’ and gestures to take the baby in my arms. I take a step back and look at her incredulously, thinking ‘did you just cease to be a patient in this hospital before becoming a nurse?’ I mean – do you not do any physiological analysis before deciding to handover the baby to a brand new dad. From a foot away, what part of me looked ready to hold this mighty small and fragile creature is beyond me. A quick scan of my emotional state of mind and I was all ready to be admitted in the hospital myself. The nurse knew better, ofcourse. For she has seen plenty cases like me before. Even though in my mind I would be thinking – I respectfully disagree.
As I take my son in my arms, the only thought that is running through my mind is that of not hurting / dropping / ejecting him from my arms (Yes – Ejecting as well). A new born baby is so tiny that you feel like a giant in comparison. Inspite of myself, I gently take him from the nurse and into my arms, making a conscious attempt to not go too far away from the nurse. For I still fear the baby ejecting from my arms like a pilot does from a fighter plane in case of an emergency.
For that fleeting moment when I held my son, it felt completely surreal. I couldn’t imagine the miracle that I was holding for there is no other way to explain it. A brand new life that will become his own person one day – full of hopes, desires and dreams. That I will be able to protect him from all the struggles and heartbreaks of life would be foolhardy to believe. Prepare him, I will. And aint I glad that I won’t be alone in this journey, for his mother is recovering like she should after having gone through one of the most intense experiences of her life. My emotional rollercoaster journey probably pales in comparison to her physiological AND emotional journey. But then again, women can beat men to pulp in the show of resilience. I am just relieved that the mother and child are healthy and we now begin yet another rollercoaster… full of sound and fury – signifying life!
satta king tw