The parents of an adorable little boy, it was but natural that my husband and I wanted a girl the second time round.That's what most people would have desired. Only, in my case it became an obsession. I wanted a daughter who would fill our lives with laughter...with colour and music and all things beautiful. Whose pretty, frilly clothes I would choose with loving care, the little pink accessories selected with meticulousness... who, as she grew up, would become my buddy, my friend and confidante, would suffuse our lives with joy. I was told by all well-wishers that what I felt was natural but I shouldn't let it become a yen, a yearning so strong it would shatter me if it wasn't fulfilled. God willing, they assured me, it would be a little girl but one shouldn't fret over such uncontrollable things, I was counselled. But my obsession grew with each passing day.
At one point, the doctor advised sonography. My one question to the radiologist was: was it a girl? The fellow answered my question with a query - was this our first child? When I said no, he asked whether the first was a boy. When informed in the affirmative, the chappie, steeped in the male-dominated tradition of our society, merely shrugged: then why was I so bothered? I already had a son, why the worry? I didn't bother to reply or explain.
My husband was a keen as I, only less vocal. By the time D day was around the corner, one factor got added to my yearning: the fear factor-what if it wasn't a girl? The genuine concern of my family grew in equal proportions; my mother and sister sent me long letters trying to drill sense into me, telling me to be reasonable and open to both the options, to not brood over things I had no control over.
But I went on undeterred: weaving a fine gauze of gossamer dreams, trimmed with lacey borders of hope and expectation. And finally, the day was upon us. As I was being wheeled into the Operation Theatre, I heard the lady doctor, who was well aware of my deep desire - murmur sotto voce may the good lord heed her prayers. I heard the words and said a silent Amen.
Congratulations, it's a girl!! The words reverberated through the room. Sedated as I was and still not recoverd from the heavy anaesthesia shot, I didn't quite register the import of the words. Things were hazy, my grasp on reality tenuous. But somewhere, through the foggy delirium, the meaning finally sank in. And I was rapturous; ecstatic. On cloud nine!!
Years have gone by like the flash of days, and my little girl turned from a contented, no-problem infant to a chirpy, happy-go-lucky kid, then into a caring adolescent and finally blossomed into a loving, sensitive, responsible young adult, doing us proud at every stage of life.
16 September: a landmark day in our lives, a turning point, a day when wishes were fulfilled...a monumental day!!
Happy Birthday, Princess!!
PS- And on this monumental 21st Anniversary, the same 21 guidelines apply
