Skip to main content

My body

My body is an unusual creature. For one thing, I have two uteruses. Congenital I'm told. A medical condition called Uterus Didelphys. Basically, my womb is split into two parts--right chamber, left chamber, is what the doctors call it.

Babe was conceived in the right chamber. So when I was pregnant, the gynaec told me don't turn to your right in your sleep. You could crush your foetus.
Can you imagine how I felt? I had nightmares about turning over, unknowingly in my sleep. So I only ever turned to my left during the pregnancy. And no, my pregnant tummy wasn't misshapen or anything. As baby grew inside, my left uterus sort of folded in so the right side could expand better. Amazing, really what our bodies are capable of.

When little man was nursing, I always found feeding him from my left breast easier. It always hurt like crazy trying to nurse him from my right side. And at night, that naturally meant, I again turned to my left.

Now, our son is nearly five. And I have a sore down my left thigh and buttock. I try to turn only to my right when I'm lying down. Because the left side starts hurting, a dull ache that gets worse after a bit. The skin there is now marked, permanently.

But I don't mind. Our experiences make us, after all. 




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Wasteland

Something happened over the past two days. Our next door neighbours, or rather one particular family (like all metrizens in this cramped city, we live within literally, touching distance of the others in our neighbourhood), have decided to demolish their home. Fine, so what, you ask. They see how valuable land now is. Who can blame them? But along with their home, they have also decided to kill off the two trees -- a mango tree and a coconut tree -- in their compound. I used to look at those trees from my kitchen window. The mango tree, in particular, was a welcome sight. Bunches of ripe green fruit used to hang heavily from it. Looking at it, I'd think of my home in Kerala -- of the time when I was a little girl in a white petticoat helping my father pluck mangoes as they slowly changed from parrot green to a golden reddish-yellow-orange shade. That was our annual summer ritual, you see. My father plucked mangoes using a long stick with a hook or a 'kokka' (in my collo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Morning scenes

The wind blustery Skies grey blue A light so muted Birds are quiet too We walkers go Sidestepping Couple-dancing No touching Looking or meeting Glances…Oh no!   Masks dangling From chins Below noses Hanging from one ear Or sometimes Fitting so properly Covering everything So no one can see Or know What we’re really like.   Runners running Soundlessly Iron determination Seeping through So much so   That dogs being walked Know they cannot Wag tails Or even Bark a greeting.   Two men Creating content One breaking into Hair flipping, body popping Dance Faithful friend filming In fits and starts As a security guard Sips his chai Utterly bemused.
Post a Comment
Read more

A meltdown

Some days ago, I had what you might call, a meltdown. I went from anger to intense anguish in moments. I worked myself up into a frenzy. I wanted to lash out at my family. Hurl words that would wound and scar. I wanted to hurt myself.. Physically harm my own self or something/someone else. I wanted to break things,something... Anything would do, I felt, at that moment. Just to cope with the heaving emotions inside. Just so I could make sense of what I was feeling. So, I shouted at my loved ones. At my son for something he did or didn't do. At my husband for slights real and imagined. For angry words we have exchanged over the years. For everything we have ever done to each other. Then, I shut myself up in a room Immersed myself in all that was and is torn and tormented inside And I cried my heart out. I ended up with a migraine that day. But later, when I calmed down, I felt better. But more than that, I found that my family still loves me. My young son s...
Post a Comment
Read more