Alia sat there, on the floor, for a long time. She couldn’t really remember how long. Hugging her knees tightly to her body, her head tucked between them. Her eyes fixated on the thin stick lying between her feet that seemed to be controlling her life nowadays. The water she had run had nearly filled the tub and the steam from it now swirled in the entire bathroom. Something in the back of her mind told her she needed to turn the tap off. But she couldn’t be bothered. Because getting up now would mean moving back into reality. Acknowledging the SINGLE pink line that declared she wasn’t pregnant, yet again. A tear rolled down her cheek at the thought of what was to ensue. The tests, the trials, the attempts, the trips to doctors, hospital gowns, IVF procedures, the pain…months and months of the same process. Fourteen to be exact. Fourteen months of enduring a pain that had grown and grown, only to engulf her entire body and mind.
The fatigue had begun to set in five months back, making her question why they were hell bent on making a biological child anyway. A tiny worm of a thought had begun inching its way into her mind. Adoption. The more she thought about it the more it seemed like the best path for them. Surely they could put a stop to this mindless, endless chase for what wasn’t meant to be and take a route that allowed them to share their love with someone who needed them? After much deliberation, she had finally shared her thoughts with Vinit only to be met with outright refusal. “Blood is blood,” he had stated. That she no longer had the strength didn’t seem to matter. “Every woman has a mother in her. You have to keep trying,” he had dismissed. She did want to become a mother, just not the traditional way. Her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. He watched her sink into despair month after month, not budging from his stand one bit. His response hadn’t been a surprise. It was simply a reflection of the relationship she shared with her dominating husband. And as always, he had expected her to submit.
She flicked the tear away as anger surged. It was her body, her mind, and she had to have a say! And why did others get to decide what motherhood must mean to her? Why was being a mother only restricted to the confines of birthing a child, anyway? Five months of relentlessly trying to convince her husband. But today was different. She finally knew she was ready to give up – not on her child, though. It was time she stood up for herself, for her wellness and for her right to motherhood, her way. The time to act was now.
Alia walked up to Vinit in the drawing room. Holding up the stick with the single pink line, she calmly declared, “I am having a baby.”
For more of such content follow us on Social Media: