My ‘lost and found’. When life serves you lemons.

When life serves you lemons, be ready for a sparkling lemonade.

Dr. Poonam Darswal

The pain was excruciating, my universe set to dwindle, declaring its closure on me. Life had decided to serve me lemons, one (not-so-very) fine day.

The radiologist doing my sonography had an expression as if contemplating some doom. She delivered my verdict with an obvious undertone of urgency wrapped gracefully in a professionally calm voice. ‘Poonam, you must not waste much time, there is a lot of blood inside your tummy, frank hemoperitoneum. I will talk to mam (our head gynecologist), asap. Meanwhile, you must not move much, go and lie down calmly, and call someone from home to take care of you, please!’

Nervously I called in my most trusted allies. They were beside my bed holding my hand in a flash. Everyone chatted nonchalantly, forging encouraging smiles, while their concerned eyes gave in to the gravity of the situation. At that moment, I felt immensely grateful for such a strong support system I was blessed with.

My colleagues swiftly shifted gears, donning the role of my life-saviors. We swiftly cruised through one test after another, desperate to find out the reason behind this mishap.

I was diagnosed with a “Ruptured ectopic pregnancy”, and losing a lot of blood within. All hidden behind an intact veneer, for our pseudo-comfort. A surgical emergency was declared, and I had to be rushed into the operation theatre without much delay.

These times hold our hands and give us an intimate tour of reality, the realization of being a mere mortal vessel for an infinite soul. Amid the fear of leaving my son motherless in a harsh world, my thoughts repeatedly circled around the reason of my perilous condition, this (ectopic) pregnancy.

This spec of potential life, our could-be blessing, had somehow wandered off to a lifeless destiny. I lost my baby, and it hurt no less, even in this calamitous manner.

The operation theatre, where I was anaesthetizing patients an hour ago, became my safe-haven in the blink of an eye. As I lay motionless impounded by my uncertain fate, the pain of my loss kept stabbing my already aching heart.

My body recovered uneventfully from my surgery, but my soul kept grieving in its timid consciousness. ‘You must come back to me, my beloved. Weaved in my blood and flesh, you belong to me, and you must find your way back to me by any means’.

My eyes could barely take the burden, and I crept back to a peaceful slumber offered by the tranquilizing effects of the potent anesthetics.

All went on as routine and I was back to my normal health in no time, trailing in the commotions of mortality. While I was immensely grateful for this life, recouped from clutches of certain death, my heart ached for my nemesis.

Amid the hormonal aftermath, and chaotic periods, I don’t remember whether it was the overdue periods or my undying desire, that made me do a pregnancy test that day. And, there she was smiling at me through those pinky doubles. After 9 nervous months, the day finally arrived, when I held my most beautiful dream, alive in my arms.

“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

Paulo Coelho

The universe did conspire to gift me this beautiful little bundle of joy, I hold passionately enclosed in the warmth of my heart, forever.

Life is a beautiful journey, with exhilarating ups and dark downs. Each day we live on is a blessing, worth a bucket full of gratefulness. Even the worst of days may end up giving you the gift of your life, whereas a mundane day may add that lost sparkle. Celebrate each breath, never stop dreaming, you never know which moment holds the key to your most cherished dream.

“It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.”

Paulo Coelho