The Precious Life E-Book

Dorji Wangdi

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Surely love is the greatest phenomenon across the world; do you think love would truly be the best without a child in a family? A child is a wonderful asset that realizes parental dreams! A child transforms a man into a responsible person! Neither man nor woman would understand the meaning of life without a child. A mother is the homemaker but wouldn't succeed without a child. A child brings happiness to the parents. A home is a sweet home in the presence of a child. There is no substitute for a child; nothing can bring as much happiness as she/he does. And there is no everlasting happiness in our lives without a child. Property and money can provide only ephemeral joys but a child brings perpetual happiness to the home! Parents are content if the child is physically healthy and mentally sound. Who would like a child who is abnormal by birth? And who would not be unhappy to have a child with a congenital disease? Many would consider such a child quite a burden; at least we understand the value of humanity. And what can be worse than death? Although I am the father of a child with a congenital disease, I never lost any hope for him but rather am much worried about death. To keep him alive, my wife and I have gone through strangest experiences and purgatory. Ultimately, we sacrificed all that we had and put every effort to save our poor little son from that so-called all-trouncing death! Who in the world wouldn't want to have a child? Indeed every father and mother loves to have one. I write this book as a history of my hard earned accomplishment after I underwent the utmost predicament that probably no one ever faced. I share my lifetime of miseries so that every parent would understand their child better. What one can do for another is the ultimate test of power. What we can suffer for the other is the sterling test of love.

Leseprobe

Dorji Wangdi

The Precious Life

Dr. Johaness John and his team in Jigme Dorji Wangchuck National Referral Hospital (Bhutan), and Dr. Jacob Checkob and his team in Christian Medical College Hospital in Vellore (India).BookRix GmbH & Co. KG80331 Munich

The Glorious Birth

The strange dream endowed a sibylline contemplation. I saw my wife with a little monk sitting on her lap. They smiled at me.

 “Look, your father is here,” she said as I walked towards them. I couldn’t believe it.  I was extremely happy to see them.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”  The cockerel crowed thrice. I waked instantly. Alas, I realized that it was merely a dream. I wished that it had not been a dream!

It was an unusual morning. I never woke up as early as I did. It was five. I got up and washed my face messily. The strange dream had reminded me about the prenatal period of my wife. She had already passed the due date. When I remembered, I didn’t feel composed enough to go to school. I felt that my wife should have delivered our second child. All of a sudden, I made the decision! I decided to visit my wife. I called the caretaker.

“Ata, I am going to Nganglam. Take care of the school, please. I will be back tomorrow.” I explained the reason. Ata gave me an affirmative reply and offered to accompany me if I was scared about the journey. I told him not to worry though the journey had always been risky. I had to precariously comb the dense forest that was infested with wild animals. It was riskier in the morning, as travelers often met up with wild animals, especially elephants and bears!

Yet I had to go.  As I passed by Ata’s door, I met Mr. Ugyen Sonam, a teacher in my school who was quite senior to me. He was among the most reliable and trusted staff I had ever had. He had been in the service for more than twenty years and was experienced in teaching and administration

“Sir Ugyen, I am going to Nganglam for some work. If possible, I will be back by tomorrow. Please look after the school and make sure that the overgrown grass is cut.”

 “Why should you go so early in the morning, sir? Is something wrong?”

I explained everything about my strange dream and need to visit Nganglam. I soon took leave and walked as fast as my legs would carry me. I entered the dense forest only a few minutes after I had left my place, risky for lonely travelers. It was scary, and I chanted the mantra, Om Ah Hung Benza Guru Pema Siddhi Hung. Om Mani Padme Hung!  I chanted the syllables repeatedly until I passed through the forest and arrived at the next hamlet. I didn’t meet any beasts on the way! God had blessed me, perhaps. In a few hours time, I reached my destined place. I met my wife’s friend just before I reached.

“Deki, is my wife there?” I asked her.

“She has been hospitalized since three in the morning. I believe she has labor pains,” she replied with a faint smile.

I handed over my bag and rushed to the Basic Health Unit. My heart throbbed faster, and I panted as if I had dashed across a hundred miles. I could not hold my breath. I had to rest, still puffing. When I arrived, I saw my wife’s relatives sitting on the couch outside the maternity ward. I could not speak; my entire body trembled. I sat beside them, wiping the sweat, even though it was a chilly morning. I could not ask them about my wife. I could only listen to the noises echoing from the labor room. For some time, there was dead silence and the entire environment seemed quite dead to me.                                                   

 “Have you been walking quite early?” My mother-in-law broke the silence.

“Yes, I have,” I said, expecting that my wife had delivered our baby.

 I suddenly heard my wife’s screams echoing again. I thought that she was delivering our baby right then. I waited for a few seconds. Finally, I asked them how she had been doing.

 “Go and see,” they said together.

I walked up to the door and craned in. Her elder sister, Tshering Zangmo, was standing beside her, firmly holding her hands. The nurse on duty was standing near the window.

“Morning, sir, please come on in,” the nurse greeted me.

“Good morning sister, how is she?” I flashed a big smile at her.

“I think it would take another few hours. I expect your baby to come out by 10 o’clock at the latest.”

Her sister sighed deeply and passed my wife’s hands over to me. She then walked out of the ward exhausted. I had never seen a woman giving birth. I had only heard about childbirth.  My daughter, Tsheultrim Wangmo, was born in my absence. Now, my wife was giving birth to our second child right before me. She wriggled in pain and cried continuously. The clock on the wall chimed eight in the morning, but there was no sign of our baby emerging. My wife continued to experience labor pains for a further few hours. I kept watching the clock which was ticking away on the wall. The minute hand seemed like the hour hand, ticking torpidly. I wished that those sluggish hands of the clock would tick faster at such a needy moment. Even when the clock struck 10 o’clock, there was no sign. The nurse observed my wife again to assess the situation, but she shook her head in distress. She asked herself why the baby had not yet come.

 “Sir, I don’t think that she is ready to deliver. Her passage is still narrow. I suppose that it will take a few hours more.”

“Oh! God! Please help her,” I murmured to myself.

The wall clock struck eleven, and then twelve. The nurse examined her again and shook her head with a grimace. I understood what she meant. It wasn’t yet time. It struck 12:30, but the baby wouldn’t come. The nurse left for lunch. She was exhausted. She told me to call her if my wife gave the delivery sign.  I stood beside her while she groaned and wriggled in pain. It was quite hard for me to see her in such great pain. She sweated profusely and gave all her strength to push out the baby. I felt very miserable when she screamed and wriggled. I could no longer bear to see my wife in such great pain. She had borne the pain for several hours. I held her hands to console here and divert her mind. The nurse came back from lunch and examined her for the last time.  I saw her pulling her face. She exclaimed in excitement.

 “It’s coming out, exert force!  Push it out hard!”

I felt a twitch of happiness. I joined the sister and exclaimed, “Come on, you can do it, exert force!”

Her mother and sisters came in rushing. And we all joined together in encouraging her on. On her part, she tried all that she could. She kept pushing down but our baby wouldn’t come. She pushed again.  The more she exerted her strength, the more she became emasculated.  She tried every bit of her nerves but to no avail. Her mother fed her soup to help regain her strength. On the other hand, the nurse reprimanded her for not being able to deliver the baby on time. Again she tried pushing but the baby didn’t come. Time was running out. The nurse warned her that if she didn’t deliver the baby within ten minutes, there lay a risk for both the child and the mother. It was high time and a few more minutes could’ve crossed the green signal.

Fortunately, a few minutes later, we saw that our baby’s head had come out. It gave me uncontrollable relief! Suddenly, my wife cried, “Ama, I can’t do this. Let me die.” Right there, the baby got his head stuck.

 “Oh, my God, he is dying. Please push!” The nurse shouted. I sensed the danger not only upon the child but also to the mother. Tears filled my eyes. I got terribly scared. It was a nightmare.

“Chhoki, come on! Push! Push! ” I shouted.

She used all her strength whichever way she could. She kept on pushing, gnashing her teeth; her entire body trembled. Finally, my baby gave a loud dry. The voice was husky. The nurse cut the umbilical cord and took him for resuscitation. I embraced my wife with all my heart and cried, tucking into her bosom. I cuddled her firmly and kissed her all over the face. Emotion had overrun me. I experienced fervent feelings for the first time. I kissed her again. Tears blurred my eyes as I recollected her pains, way beyond my imagination. At such a moment, my heart was filled with sympathy for all women for their pains during delivery. I lost no time in hugging her again, and I kissed her eyes and cried like a child. She cried, too.

“Chhoki, I love you,” I whispered in my pristine heart. She pulled me down to her chest, nudged my cheeks with hers and sobbed fervently. All the while, the nurse saw us in such puerile schmaltz. She wore a humble smile at our strong heartstrings- the indelible faith, the love, and care. We shed copious tears of happiness.

The nurse had wrapped my son in a thick warm cloth and shifted my wife and the baby to the general ward. Her relatives were all very excited to see our healthy baby. I was extremely happy; nothing had ever made my life so euphoric!