Few
Precious Eggs, A Million Reluctant Sperms & A Medical Miracle!
Brief
Note to the Readers
If
the mention of ‘ovaries’, ‘menstrual cycle’, ‘egg’, ‘semen’ and ‘fertilisation’
make you cringe, read no further. Thanks for opening up this blog and checking us
out. Have a good day sir/madam. If, on the other hand, you are curious and want
to read on, dispassionately, please be our guest.
This
is a tribute to the indomitable strength of women, of the tenacity of the human
spirit, of the extreme expertise of our doctors and staff, the unstinted support of the organisation and the triumph of
life. This is a personal account and it is as personal as it can get given the
circumstances.
This
blog does not claim to be hundred per cent factually correct on the medical
aspects. This experience has undergone many years of wear and tear and some or
many facts may have slipped out of the now ageing memory. Focus on the emotion,
not on the facts. Happy reading!
Prologue
The night was spent in trepidation. The morrow was to
bring big news; something that was make or break for both of us. Months of
medication was wearing her down and our collective optimism was at its lowest
ebb; the only silver lining being the expectation of good news. The doctors and
staff at the hospital had exuded confidence that we were on the verge of the
momentous moment in our lives. Their optimism was contagious and had rubbed off
on us. We promised to return with a truckload of sweets if what we wanted were
to come true. Still, on the eve of the D Day, I was a bundle of nerves.
I got up early and paced the house to calm myself down. Now
and then, checking the clock in the drawing-room. The lab was to open at 9 AM,
not anytime earlier. I gulped down copious amounts of coffee while waiting for
the time to speed up and finally left home to collect the reports. The wife was
a complete contrast - surprisingly calm and composed to my nervous state. I
reached the lab and went in after parking my car. The staff was in the process
of setting up shop and weren’t expecting anyone to barge in so soon. Looking at
my state, the lady at the counter offered to hold other things in abeyance and
started looking for our report amidst the bundle of many.
She finally found it and handed over to me. I went out
and sat in my car before opening the report. My palms were sweating profusely
and I fumbled a bit before opening the envelope. My eyes darted towards the hCG
level - 2 Miu/ml. My heart sank. The report was negative. I felt gutted and
broken. After what seemed like an eternity, I put the car into motion and instead
of heading home, I made way to the Unit. I didn’t want to go home with this
news. I headed straight into my COs office, sank into a chair opposite him and
broke down completely.
Two
Years Ago
I was posted in a field location; high altitude to be precise.
I was in such a place where even STD facilities were sparse, let alone mobile
network. It was still early days of 2G in India and the internet was not yet a
widespread phenomenon. I cherished the 5 minutes of call that I was entitled to
– once in two weeks. It was a great lesson on how to cram all your emotions and
news into those 5 minutes. And if the weather played spoilsport, the two weeks
could easily get extended to more as the telephone line had a mind of its
own. It was in this backdrop that during one of those phone calls, she tells me
that she has to undergo minor surgery. It was a Laparoscopy to treat her PCOS. Ok, so what’s PCOS? Expanding it
would give us - Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. In simple terms, PCOS in women is
a major reason for primary infertility. Too much of medical jargon? Women with
PCOS have a difficult time conceiving than the others. And by difficult, it
could also mean Never. But sitting on that 18,000 feet post, I wasn’t aware of
all these finer details. To me, it was just a minor surgery and my wife wanted
my moral support from thousands of miles afar. I gave it to her – over the
telephone. Later I came to know that everything went smoothly and the doctor
wanted to meet me whenever I was in town. I said fine and soon forgot about it.
Six months after this incident, I went home on leave.
Battered, bruised and fed up of the snow and weather, I wanted to make the best
of my time with civilization. During my leave, we also happened to go to the
hospital and meet the doctor. For conditions of anonymity, let's label him
Doctor Sierra. He was a genial man
with years of experience and expertise in his armoury. After the initial
introductions, he told me about IVF (In Vitro Fertilisation) and suggested that
we go for it. I laughed the suggestion off. IVF? Us? We were both under 25
years of age (Yes, we married early. Can we just proceed?) and my knowledge of
IVF or the more common term - Test Tube Baby, led me to believe that IVF was
meant for older couples who were incapable of conceiving. Not for younger
couples like us who had many years ahead of us. He explained to me patiently
that age has nothing to do with IVF. It is either one could conceive naturally
or couldn’t. My wife was in the latter category.
I promised him that we would heed his medical advice and
took his leave. I had no intention of keeping my word because I still believed
that it was all just an overreaction. I went back to the unit without any
further thought to this topic at hand.
Second
Opinions & Other Options
About six months after meeting with the doctor, I had an
outing to Nasik for three months. Since we had time, we decided to consult a
local Gynaecologist who had a repute of high degree. She agreed with the
previous findings regarding the PCOS and endorsed the opinion concerning IVF.
However, she did suggest that we try out IUI (In Uterus Insemination) which is
a relatively simpler procedure with hardly any additional time lost. We also
went through a series of tests, which, from now on, would be all too common in
the years to come. I still remember the first time I was in the lab to give out
my semen sample for the semen analysis test. After handing over the slip to the
receptionist, I was sitting in the lounge, waiting for my turn and then I see
these two ladies at the reception giggling away at my expense. After spending
an awkward five minutes, I got up and walked away! But yes, better sense
prevailed and I got myself tested at another lab. Since then, I've lost count
of where and how many times I've got tested. It was just a medical procedure,
no more awkwardness!
We underwent two procedures of IUI while at Nasik. Both
were failures. What such setbacks do is invest one’s mind with doubts. And out
of these doubts arises dejection and heartbreak. Try as hard as one might, but
the disappointment of not being a parent is quite intense. After a period in
marriage, having a child is an extremely important necessity. Without one, the
family seems incomplete. We may put up a brave and indifferent face for
everyone to see, but deep down, you know it rankles. A lot. I could see the
same emotions written all over my wife’s face too. But we acted as if it was
just another issue, not wanting to aggravate each other’s already fragile
state. It was a different phase of life.
The
Peace Location
A few months after the IUI, I was back to a peace
location. We were back again in the familiar army environs and the social
scenario and hardly bothered about our progeny or the chances of it. It was
only after a couple of months that we realized that we needed to go for Plan
‘B’ as our efforts and the results were not too promising. So, one fine Monday
morning, we headed to the best facility available to us to seek them out in our
bid to become parents. The Floor was jam-packed. With hundreds of hopeful
couples who had come from far and wide to place their destinies in this crack
team of doctors and staff. The mad rush and the despondent faces was a reality
check for us. This was going to be a long drawn and bloody affair. Things were
going to get difficult.
Our first appointment with the Chief doctor was anything
but ideal. After giving us a perfunctory hearing, he gave us a long list of
prescription and our first IVF cycle was scheduled after a good 18 months! We
were shocked, angered and sad. After prevaricating for so long, I now wanted
things to speed up at my will. The callousness of mine was going to bite us
hard. In the meantime, she was put on a heavy dose of medication to enable the
body for the procedure. With no further details being divulged, we returned
home; uncertain and circumspect about the future.
In days to come, the medication was having an impact on
the wife. Apart from whatever it was doing inside her body, they made her
nauseous and the hormone play was such that she remained edgy and restless.
This was an indication that the path ahead wasn’t going to be an easy one. We
needed to brace up for a long haul. The biggest impediment was the lack of
knowledge on how and what was going to happen and the manner in which the
process was to pan out. In today’s age and time, everything that we need to
know is available at the swipe of a finger but it was not so at that point of
time.
Sometime after three months, we were informed by the
hospital that the timelines had been preponed and that we can expect our first
IVF cycle to be scheduled in the early part of next year. This was great news!
We were called in for a review to the hospital and the medication was altered
to suit the new timelines. Between now and the beginning of the IVF process,
there was a requirement of coming in for regular check-ups to the hospital.
Because of the nature of the treatment, there were no fixed dates or days for
the check-ups. They were entirely based on a woman’s menstrual cycle and hence
one could never know when the visit to the hospital had to happen. This was
true for the entire duration of our IVF treatment; we simply didn’t know when
our next trip to the hospital would be. It was always on short notice. Since I was
posted 200 km from the hospital, we would drive down on the day of the
check-up, early in the morning. Reach the destination by about late morning,
get through the check-up, grab a bite in the hospital cafeteria and then make
our way back home and reach by late evening. All this required the support from
my Unit, of which we simply had no dearth.
What
is IVF?
Aside from knowing the full form of the word, most of us
would hardly be aware of what happens in the procedure. I will break it down
for simplicity of understanding. For couples who have difficulty in conceiving
naturally, IVF is one of the procedures that can make them parents. In this,
eggs from the woman are picked up through a procedure while concurrently
collecting the semen from the man and then, under laboratory conditions, the
eggs are fertilized by the sperm. The embryo(or embryos) are clinically
inserted into the woman’s womb after 48 hours. A beta hCG test done after two
weeks of the embryo transfer (ET) can either confirm or negate a pregnancy. In
the run-up to the egg pick up, hormonal injections are given to the woman for
producing good quality eggs. This, in addition to the already heavy medication
that she is been under for the past many months. One can understand the huge
pressure a lady has to undergo in terms of the changes happening to her body
aside from the emotional upheavals. In India, more than one embryo being
transferred into the womb is common and legal. In general, a minimum of four
embryos are transferred to give a fair shot at a positive outcome. That is also
the reason that IVF generally results in multiple births.
The
First Attempt
In January of the fresh year, we went in for our first
IVF attempt. On Day 2 of the menstrual cycle, we were in the hospital and after
the preliminary check-ups, we were given some vials of the LH (Luteinizing
hormone) to be injected daily for the next 10 days and then we were to land up
at the hospital for the rest of the process. We went back with the vials safely
preserved in the icebox, mindful that we had entered an important phase in the
journey. Back home, we decided to be positive and nail this thing. Since we had
collected 10 vials of the injection, we did not bother to administer more after
the stock was finished. And that was a grave error which we did not even
realize. It was only when we went again to the hospital after the 15 stipulated
days did we realize that we had bungled up. Big time. We were admonished by
doctors like school kids. They too invest their time, expertise and feelings
into the patients and it was a letdown for them too. We had, by our own
foolishness, delayed our procedure by a further 30 days. We returned home, to
wait on for the next time.
The
‘Actual’ First Attempt
Two months after the fiasco, we went back again. This
time, following all the instructions diligently and by erring on the positive
side. Remember that all this time, the wife was continuously on medication and
like I mentioned earlier too, the heavy dose of medicine was extracting a heavy
toll on her body and her mind. The actual heavy lifting is done by the women in
this kind of treatments. Not just this, even in a normal pregnancy, a woman's
body undergoes massive transformation and most of it painful. Yet, she labours
on unmindful of personal discomfort and agony. A very important part of this
process is to stand by each other, providing the succour and emotional support lest
one of the partners succumbs to the pressure.
It was that time again when we had to pack up and be at
the hospital for a few days. Our Egg pick-up was scheduled to happen in a few
days and as per protocol, every couple was to reach the location 48 hours
before the scheduled time. To understand the timelines, let me just give a
tabulated break down.
48
hours before egg pick-up - Reach location.
36
hours before pick up (generally happens at midnight) - hCG is injected to
ensure rupture of the follicle which would then release the eggs in approx 36
hours from injecting it.
Egg
Pick-up - happens early in the morning after administering anaesthesia during
the procedure. The collection of semen happens concurrently.
Approx
54 hours after the Egg pick-up - Embryo transfer(ET). The embryos are
transferred to the uterus.
21
Days after the ET - Beta hCG test to determine pregnancy.
So having gone through everything that was to be done, we
entered the day of Egg pick-up. Early in the morning, with loads of positive
energy flowing through our veins, we reached the place and waited for our turn.
On a normal day, about 15-16 couples are scheduled for the egg pick-up. After
what seemed like an eternity to me, I watched everyone other than my wife come
out after the procedure. I was puzzled but refrained from worrying too much.
And then, I was called inside. The doctor explained to me that there was a
problem. My wife had suffered OHSS (Ovarian Hyper Stimulation Syndrome) In
plain, layman terms, when a woman is given hormonal medication and injections
to stimulate healthy growth of eggs during infertility treatment, OHSS is a
side effect because the body cannot tolerate the dose and can result from mild
to severe condition. Severe cases require hospitalization and treatment.
Extreme cases may lead to fatality as well.
He told me that she was being shifted to the ward
immediately to commence treatment. The eggs had been collected and the process
of fertilization would commence. He told me to meet him after 54 hours when the
Embryo transfer of other ladies of this batch would be in progress. With a
worried brow and grieving heart, I made way back to my room since no visitors
were allowed for the day. The next day I visited her and the sight of all those
Intra veinous fluids dangling from her bedside made me wonder if all this pain
was worth the effort. The amount of abuse her body was taking was irreparable.
I tried to cheer her up but wasn’t much successful as I was dejected too.
On the day of the Embryo transfer, I made way to the IVF
centre and waited for the ET of others to be completed. Finally, I went in to find
out what was in store for us. The doctor told me that 4 embryos had been formed
out of the process. But since my wife was in this condition, it was not
advisable to carry out the transfer and the prudent option was to freeze the
embryos and carry out the Embryo transfer after two months. I thanked him and
left. We accepted the circumstances and vowed not to fret about it any more.
The confidence that we had in our doctor was absolute. He was the best that we
could have hoped for and it was only natural to just follow in his stead. After
a week of hospitalization, my wife was discharged and we went back home, hoping
to return in two months for the final step of the process.
Support
A long and painful process such as the IVF requires
tremendous support - emotional, moral etc. The support from immediate family is
the most important part of it. We did not divulge much to my in-laws as they
would worry a lot and then it would impact their already fragile health. At
that point in time, I did not share much of a rapport with my parents, so we
left them out of the loop too. And like many of the Indian families, we didn’t
have the good fortune of large extended families. So, in short, there was
hardly any family support. But at a time like that, others stepped in. Friends
and of course the members of my unit. What we lacked from our family was more
than made up by my unit. Every officer and lady became our pillars of support.
The way that we were treated in that duration cannot be expressed in words. It
would be a disservice to even try and quantify that kind of efforts that were
put in by every one of them. My requirement of short, frequent leaves to attend
to the hospital and the treatment, the mad cravings of food that my wife had -
at each step of our IVF journey, my unit stepped in spectacularly. Our joy and
our agony were as much theirs if not more. I never could express our gratitude
to them in person but I take this platform to convey my gratitude. This debt
can never be repaid. Thank you, everyone.
The
First Embryo Transfer
After an agonizing wait for two months, we went back to
our favourite haunt, for the much-anticipated embryo transfer. On the day of
the ET, she went in along with others and I took my position in the waiting
lounge for the procedure to finish. Time ticked by as I saw all others come out
after their respective procedures. My optimism started wavering with the
passage of each minute. Was there another twist in the tale? I fervently hoped
not. Before I could dive deep into my apprehensions, I was called in and to my
surprise, I saw my wife seated inside the doctor's office too. Without wasting
time, the doctor told us that 3 of the four embryos that were preserved have
gone kaput. My heart sank. Only one of ours was still viable but the chances of
positive pregnancy were negligible so that option was out.
The doctor said that there was a way out - an option of
picking up three other healthy embryos and along with one of ours to be
transferred. That was a difficult call to take and our consent was needed to go
ahead. We requested time to discuss among ourselves. He left us to allow us
space. We went over the issue. Initially my wife was open to the idea but on
deliberating, we agreed that it was too momentous a decision to take. Even if
it’s a positive pregnancy, we would never know for sure which embryo it had
been. Of course, desperate times demand desperate measures. But since the
direct implications of refusing this option would mean that my wife had to
undergo the entire process again, I let her have the final call. She decided
not to go ahead and repeat the process. We conveyed our decision and went home.
Prepared to keep taking the medication and to come back again in a couple of
months to undergo the entire process. Not that we were the first or last ones’
to undergo IVF but still it hurts a lot. Fate had again dealt us a cruel hand.
You can cajole your mind for whatever its worth, the pain doesn’t cease to
exist.
The
Second Attempt
After two months of wait, we went back. This time, we
were much more pragmatic. The medication dose had been reduced because of the
side effects suffered last time. This time, during the egg pick-up, I had it in
mind that complications of OHSS may resurface. I shouldn’t have worried though,
because the doctor had altered and reduced the dosage to prevent such a
situation from happening again. We heaved a collective sigh of relief when she
emerged out of the room, after successful egg retrieval. We waited patiently
for the 48 hours to pass before the embryo transfer.
On the day of the ET, we reached at the scheduled time
and waited for our turn. My wife went in and again did not come out any time
soon even as other ladies were leaving after their respective procedures were
over. I had a familiar feeling in my gut. Something has gone wrong. I could
sense it in my nerves. As if on cue, I was called inside. My wife was there too
and in that grim surroundings, the news was conveyed to us. Since the dosage of
hormonal medication had been reduced to avoid a relapse of OHSS, the eggs were
not of great quality. So only one embryo had been formed. I closed my eyes and
felt a sense of déjà vu. But wait, there was more news. Since on the day of egg
pick-up, it was felt that egg quality was poor, so other healthy eggs were
fertilized with my sperm and out of this combination, three healthy embryos had
been formed - all category ‘A’.
It took a while to digest this bit of news. We were all
silent since we could understand what it meant. There was a 66.66% chance that
the baby (if positive) would only contain a part of me and not my wife. Was there any way of negotiating this kind of a situation?
A woman bears all the
physical, emotional and mental stress of 9 long months of pregnancy and the
postnatal phase after the birth of the child. How would it feel to know that
the baby does not contain a part of you but of some stranger woman? Not surprisingly,
I saw my wife break down. This was one of the most difficult situations of our
lives and we had no clue what was to be done. Could we consult anyone? No.
Although my mother in law was now part of the process having been told by us as
to what was happening, there was no way we could let her in on this fragile a
news. Make no mistake, the support that she had rendered to us was immense but
we had to leave everyone out of this.
It seemed life was asking us to prove our desperation to bear a child. There was no other explanation for the kind of decisions that we were expected to make.
After some thinking, my wife refused the embryo transfer.
She was prepared to undergo everything for the third time in succession. The
final call could not have been made by me. I could only advise her, I couldn’t
feel the pain that she was undergoing and would have been grossly unfair to
take on the onerous task of taking decision all by myself. That’s when the
doctor stepped in. He tried to reason out by saying that going ahead with the embryo transfer would be a most prudent
decision. We had already seen the side effects of medication on her body and
subjecting it again would cause much harm than good. He also made us aware that
the previous case of OHSS had been severe and the hospital would not take a
chance again. He implored us to take the call. Our consent was required to go
ahead. My wife still wouldn’t budge. She was prepared to repeat the process.
And that’s when he put his foot down. He made it clear that the life of a
patient is important and even if we were to refuse this time, the next time
will also be an embryo transfer with my sperm and other healthy eggs. There would be no egg retrieval from my wife - ever!
After that, there was no discussion. We gave our muted
approval and the procedure went ahead. 33% me and wife and 66% me and some
strangers. Fate had brought us to this stage. No wonder someone rightly said -
‘Fact is stranger than fiction’. Everyone expressed their optimism that this
time we would come back with positive news. Their optimism was pure and
unadulterated. We went back with hope.
The
Result
The night was spent in trepidation. The morrow was to
bring big news; something that was make or break for both of us. Months of
medication was wearing her down and our collective optimism was at its lowest
ebb. The only silver lining being the expectation of good news The doctors and
staff at the hospital had exuded confidence that we were on the verge of the
momentous moment in our lives. Their optimism was contagious and had rubbed off
on us. We promised to return with a truckload of sweets if what we wanted were
to come true. Still, on the eve of the D Day, I was a bundle of nerves.
I got up early and paced the house to calm myself down. Now
and then, checking the clock in the drawing-room. The lab was to open at 9 AM,
not anytime earlier. I gulped down copious amounts of coffee while waiting for
the time to speed up and finally left home to collect the reports. The wife was
a complete contrast - surprisingly calm and composed to my nervous state. I
reached the lab and went in after parking my car. The staff was in the process
of setting up shop and weren’t expecting anyone to barge in so soon. Looking at
my state, the lady at the counter offered to hold other things in abeyance and
started looking for our report amidst the bundle of many.
She finally found it and handed over to me. I went out
and sat in my car before opening the report. My palms were sweating profusely
and I fumbled a bit before opening the envelope. My eyes darted towards the hCG
level - 2 Miu/ml. My heart sank. The report was negative. I felt gutted and
broken. After what seemed like an eternity, I put the car into motion and
instead of heading home, I made way to the Unit. I didn’t want to go home with
this news. I headed straight into my COs office, sank into a chair opposite him
and broke down completely. My CO, who had stood by our side with me throughout
the ordeal, left everything else and took me home. I was an emotional wreck. I
didn’t know how to convey the news at home.
The sight of both of us coming home confirmed the worst
fears of my wife. But at times like these, I never cease to wonder what is the
stuff that women are made of. She was extremely balanced. Even if she was
broken by the news, she didn’t show it. In the evening, we discussed options of
adoption. Alternatives had to be weighed up, we were losing time and her body
could not have taken the abuse of the medicine for long. We spent a sombre
evening together and proceeded to the hospital early the next morning.
The
Pause
Everyone was shocked at the negative outcome. The thing
with frequenting a specific place for so long is that everyone becomes a part
of one’s happiness and sorrow. That day, I saw the pain in each of those eyes.
The doctor asked us what was our plan. My wife was very clear that she wanted a
break. A break from all that burden of expectation, hope, wait and most
importantly from the medicines. She wanted a clean break from everything related
to IVF and the doctor agreed wholeheartedly. He told us to meet again after 3
months. We went back, free from the shackles imposed by the treatment.
We decided to take a break from work too and went on a
short holiday to home. There was a family function that coincided with the
break and we had the opportunity of letting our hair down and enjoy the moment
without having to think of any restrictions. It was a good break - wholesome
and fun-filled. Once we were back, we concentrated on anything but the thoughts
of treatment. It was as if we had pushed those memories into a distant corner
of our minds and that was a welcome change. It meant that we were adapting to
the situation and were flexible to any number of alternatives that may present
themselves in due course of time.
After probably a month, during a casual conversation, my
wife mentioned to me that her cycle was delayed. I was taken aback. I told her
to take a home pregnancy test but she dismissed my advice saying that why test
when we know it’s not possible. I didn’t argue much but while on my way back
from the office, I got her a pregnancy test kit and asked her to test
nevertheless. I soon forgot about it. After a couple of days, I asked her what
the outcome of the pregnancy test was. To which she responded by saying that
the kit was faulty. I was surprised and asked her how she had reached that
outcome. She said the test was positive so since she couldn’t conceive
naturally, the only other logical explanation was that the kit was faulty. I
was aghast with her reasoning. I went out, got two more test kits and told her
to go ahead and check them out.
Both the test proved positive!
Initial
Stages of Pregnancy
We went for a check-up the next day to get the medical
approval of this unlikely pregnancy. It was indeed positive. The foetus was
about 5 weeks old and we still had to wait for a couple of weeks before the
heartbeat could be detected and the confirmation would be 100 per cent. We
rallied the news to our doctors who joined in our happiness but cautioned that
precautions and safety were to be as important as ever for the next 8 months
too. So how could a woman who was not supposed to conceive naturally defy the
odds and prove the theory wrong? All that infertility treatment had had a huge
impact on the body and somehow the body had hit the ‘reset’ button. A crude
example would be the way a computer Is formatted. After that, it apes a new
computer! It is not very uncommon to happen and we were more than glad it
happened with us.
After the fetal heartbeat was detected at 7 weeks of
pregnancy, we were sure that there were no false alarms. At around the same
time, we got posted to a new location. Things were happening too swiftly. With
a heavy heart, we bid farewell to our Unit. All this while, they were our
pillars of strength, pampering us, holding us steady and ensuring that we
stayed true on the treacherous path to success. Without this unstinted and
selfless support system, we would have strayed a long time back. That, I
believe, is the strength of our organization. It is rock solid in holding each
other and supporting no matter how hard it is. And in my life, I saw it all too
often. Three cheers to this unbreakable bond of bonhomie.
It is common knowledge that the initial months of
pregnancy are a hard time for a lady. Morning sickness and the changes in the
body are hard to adapt to and the need for personal attention is acute. We
decided that she should shift to her parents to weather out the initial months
as we were yet to be allotted accommodation in the new station and were dining
in the Mess which could quite obviously not cater to everyone’s requirements.
We decided that she should be back towards the end of the 7th month
and had planned the delivery at the present location.
Plans
Go Awry
Plans never go as we like. True? One fine day during the
27th week of pregnancy, she felt abdominal cramps. Because she is
not the sort to take anything lightly, she immediately went ahead and consulted
a nearby gynaecologist. After checking up, the doctor observed that the Uterus had dilated to 2 centimetres and decided to admit her there and then since she was already in labour. My wife refused to get admitted as Doctor Sierra was the one to take the decision and it was to that hospital that she was to go to. The local doctor suggested medication to delay the labour as a temporary measure but my wife refused the medication.
In this situation, when her mind was blanking out, she decided to call up Doctor Sierra. Every minute lost could be detrimental. Doctor Sierra asked my wife to reach hospital immediately and spoke on telephone with the local doctor too. So, while it was confirmed that she was in labour, my wife along with my mother in law, with the help of friendly neighbours, plowed along to reach the hospital sometime late in the night. allayed her fears and said it is nothing to
worry about.
Enter Doctor Sierra (remember the Surgeon
who carried out laparoscopy and was our first doctor?) Doctor Sierra was a man
wh minced no words and he was extremely adept at his work. My wife was admitted
immediately and placed in ICU. After giving a mouthful to my mother in law for
failing to reach hospital earlier, he went on to the immediate requirement of looking after the patient who's uterus had by then dilated to 3 centimetres.
In the 27th Week of pregnancy, my wife had gone into premature labour!
On receiving the news, I requested a school type and a very close senior of mine to go to the hospital and take a look at what was happening. He did so promptly to give me some respite from uncertainty. Next day, I spoke to the doctor on the phone and he
advised me to come over to have a chat. I hopped on the next available flight
and reached Vizag. I straight away headed to the hospital and was allowed to
see my wife. She looked frail yet undaunted. Life was not done testing her yet.
The doctor explained to me that at this stage, the baby was yet to develop
fully and if she delivered, he/she won't survive. What they were trying, by
giving her immediate medical aid, was to delay the pregnancy. I asked him how
long they could delay it? He said and I quote - “one day at a time till one
week and then week by week till at least the 33rd week if not more”.
As a couple, we had complete faith in him and he laid out
the scenario in as truthful terms as he could. For the entire duration from now
till the delivery, my wife had to remain admitted in the hospital. I stayed on
for a few days to give her company. Life in the hospital could be extremely
boring but the doctor made all sorts of concessions for us. There were no set
visiting hours for us and we could get her food from home. These small
concessions mattered a lot in raising her morale. Each member of the hospital
contributed to her well being while she was admitted.
I returned to work because I was slated to attend a
course which could not be cancelled/postponed. It was an important course of
anyone of my seniority but to me, it was only of secondary importance. After
joining the course, the first thing I did was to inform my instructor of my
predicament and request for leave as and when the baby arrives. It could be
now, it could be tomorrow and if the good doctor prevailed, it could be a few
weeks from now. Fortunately for me, my leave was pre-approved. Humanity is
still prevalent!
The
Final Moment
My wife delivered on a Friday in the 37th week
of her pregnancy. The medical staff had pulled off yet another seemingly
daunting task – of delaying the pregnancy for close to 10 weeks. I flew home
between the course to have a look at my wife and my son. Holding this tiny and
fragile boy in my hands felt surreal. It was indeed our son. And most aptly, he
looked exactly like her. I didn’t want to shed tears in front of everyone but
emotions are not planned, they have a mind of their own. I thanked our doctor.
He was a God to us. After spending a couple of days at home, I flew back to
finish the remainder of my course.
As the plane took off and hovered over the Bay of Bengal,
my mind went back to recap the events of the past two years. From a hopeless
situation, facing setback after setback and resigning ourselves to the
possibility of never having a kid of our own, we had come a long long way. The
way was complete with speed breakers, obstacles and odds. But along the way, we
also had people who held us along. Who helped us remain true to the path. Who,
by their selfless help lifted our spirits whenever they sagged, lent a shoulder
to cry on, substituted for our families and shared our joy and sorrow in equal
measures. We also had extremely dedicated and adept medical staff for whom we were more
than just their patients. People repose their faith in God who is not seen or
heard. For couples like us, these doctors are our Gods. They can be seen, they
can be heard and they have emotions too.
Parting Thoughts
I do not know the numbers, but we have many couples who
suffer from problems of infertility and yet do not know the way to go about
addressing it. Undergoing IVF is not a stigma. Talking about the treatment and
the finer aspects are not embarrassing. For a large part of two years, our
daily vocabulary consisted of words such as Fallopian Tubes, Uterus, Ovaries,
Sperm count, Eggs, Follicle, Endometrium and such like. We have enough
facilities in our organization and a host of new techniques called ‘Assisted
Reproductive Technology’ - ART in short. Couples should be encouraged to come
out of their shells and seek answers to the problem.
To quote from the movie Jurassic Park - “ Life
uh….finds a way!”
Ram
