Un-shattered Dreams

Dreams are fragile. When they break, it hurts. She thought bitterly as she lay on the hospital bed, weak and pale. The nurse had just told her that it had been a girl child. Another girl? Her heart had sunk at the news. After ten years of marriage, she knew this was their last child. They already had a daughter- she had so hoped that this'd be a son- it hurt to think about it that way, now.

The nurse entered again, this time with a neat white bundle of cloth in her arms. She caught the first glimpse of her daughter once the nurse had placed the bundle on the bed beside her. She could make out a very dark complexion and a handful of brown curls on an otherwise bald head. She had no intrinsic urge to look further. She made no move to touch the baby.

The nurse had said that the baby was exceptionally healthy and fat. Oh why not, I've carried around that mass of flesh in my stomach for nine months... 'eat well, exercise well, don't take stress and consult family doctor regularly'...and all for this... this...girl! Her head fell back on the pillows and she closed her eyes, too anaemic and drained to even hate properly.

Oh, how all my people would react! Some would be genuinely disappointed, some would just smirk and love to spread the gossip around,
"Did you hear? It's another daughter."
"Really? That is sad."
"Oh yes, seems like it's God's will that such a prestigious family should end this way"

Her husband was an only son. Thus, it was only their issues that could take the family name forward. And there! I have brought it to an end. I have nipped off the lineage, killed off the clan. Damn that blasted science for saying that the baby's gender wasn't the mother's fault! Like they'll all believe it.

She looked at the baby and suddenly felt loathing. 'Healthy and fat'. The nurse's words came back to her. She felt as though this little girl had robbed her of all her nutrition and health, reducing her to this fragile heap of skin and bones; this tiny girl had robbed her little son of a life with loving parents. A son she and her husband had hoped for and planned for. The son they deserved.
I won't keep her. I'll give her away. I don't care. She killed our son! As even more unreasonable thoughts flooded into her brain, she slipped into a delirious sleep.

Her dreams made her happy. She dreamt that it was a son, after all. The daughter was just the hospital people's mistake.
"Junior is so good at cricket! Just like his Dad!"
"Junior is a bright child- he'll make you both proud!"
"Aren't you the perfect family now- first a daughter, now a son!"
******

She slipped out of delirium soon afterward- only to realize it was all a dream. It hurt. The brown skinned, curly haired girl child was still lying alongside her. The baby wasn't crying, but wasn't asleep either. Strange. Her elder daughter would have begun bawling with hunger by now. What a quiet and patient child. She removed the white coverings slightly to have a better look. 'Healthy and Fat'. She noticed the baby was homely and cute. If she had seen this child some other day, in some other mother's arms, she would have stopped to admire her.

But she is not someone else's daughter. She's mine. She's been within me for nine months. The baby wriggled slightly and moved her head to look at her mother. Large, clear, sparkling eyes. Uncomplaining eyes.
Slowly, it struck her- this child, so patient and accommodating in this cruel world despite being repudiated- was her own. So vulnerable! So innocent! And what a monster have I been! Does it matter whether it's a boy or a girl? She's a part of me.

She sat up on her pillows and delicately picked up the tender parcel of life.
Motherhood is the first religion. Should it stop directing humans out of their age of fragile incapability, mankind would no longer exist.



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This one, too, is a winner at IAW. I won the weekly theme 'fragility' when I submitted this.