CRYING EYES LONG FOR SUNSHINE

That night was full of sunshine. I could actually feel the warmth and brightness of sun shining over me. But that was night! I thought how an analytical mind could possibly get astray and laughed at my thoughts. I could not help but giggle and smile while getting ready for the function. I was getting married to my friend, my soul mate, my love. While saying “I do”, I was not actually thinking of taking him as my husband. I always thought what brides and grooms would think during that moment, I used to explore nuances of emotions on their faces to know what they would be thinking at that moment. With every “I do” I was looking forward to a wonderful future, a future that I wanted to spend with the man I trusted. I was thinking about all the rains and sunshines that would get a meaning in my coming years. And henceforth, I became a missus.

As any common woman, I could not wait to bear a child and start a family of my own. And I was given this blessing. We were expecting our fist child. Everything was wonderful for me. Everything was magical. There comes time when awkward and discomfort becomes magical. So was everything! My pain, nausea, mood swings and hunger were all delightful. I was under a spell.

One night I passed out due to immense pain. When I woke up, things were different. I had a miscarriage. We cried a lot. But everyone stood by our side and we heard all the good words that our language could offer.

From then on, the nature seemed to be against our wishes and we were told that we could not become parents due to reasons I preferred to call X. One day our doctor called upon us and asked us to meet her in her clinical. Although I hated to go there, the place that had heard our misery and sighs but deep in my heart I wanted to believe that that place could be our savior. May be we shall get to any treatment and could have a child of our own. May be. While coming back from the clinic, all I remember was the words of our doctor. Now I recall them as Hamlet’s soliloquy… to be or not to be… but at that time not even a single thought crossed my mind but the words of our doctor. We could have a baby through invitro fertilization. As a science graduate I knew what it was and so did my husband. We came home and with unnamed emotions told everything to our families. Their concern was consensual. What if something went wrong at the lab? What if? I was the one who insisted on the idea. I wanted a child. My husband needed some reassurance to go for the procedure. So he thought and after many thinking and brain storming sessions, we gave our doctor a green light. We were going for IVF. After a long time I felt the warmth of sunshine again.

                               This picture was taken en route to Islamabad from Lahore on motorway near Salt Range.

Before the implant we were shown the embryos, our potential babies, to us. We could hardly see anything but some medium in dish. The feeling was so strong that I could actually see my two black haired twin grandchildren running around the house breaking a glass or two and then hiding behind me for refuge. And thus I bore a child again.

This time we celebrated our happiness in a more cautious way. One unusual thing and we would run to our doctor for help. She was amused by our vigilance and we were amused by our childish behavior. With time I grew in size and with it grew my happiness. I thought perhaps it was the only gain in weight that was acceptable by both our society and us.

Nine months of change in my body was a promise of bringing a change in our lives forever. I gave birth to a baby boy. I could not imagine how all the beauty in world could squeeze into such a tiny frame? Black straight hair, light hazel eyes, tiny pink lips and color as white milk. I could stare into my baby’s eyes and think how genetics worked miracles. My husband and I would often joke that our hidden beautiful genes surfaced in our boy. And with happiness of such jokes our life moved on. I could hardly remember any pain that I suffered in my past. My boy was my painkiller, my multi-vitamins. His sight was enough to give me strength and courage to achieve happiness.    

When my boy was five years old, we had to go through paternity test due to some legal complications held by a couple. The test broke news to us; I was not the mother of my own child. I laughed at the doctor that how it was possible when I gave birth to him. In between my laughs I told him that I remembered vividly all the nine months and the grueling pain I went through during labor. I laughed and laughed and those laughs became hysterical. There was a mishap at the lab. Mother of my child was the blonde lady of that childless couple. That night I saw my husband and my boy lying in a line sleeping. I felt like a different person between them, not one of their kind, a stranger in my own home. I kept staring at my boy for as long as I could remember and thought probably it would undo every misfortune that had fallen upon us. But it did not. And I understood once again that was not how life worked.

The next morning when I woke up my husband was gone. He left me without saying a word, I thought. I was the one who told our families about the befallen calamity. As a common household, they judged me. Or I thought they judged me. I could not say. I sent my boy to school and contacted my husband. He was sobbing. According to him he needed some time to absorb all this. I laughed and told him it was I who bore his not our child and I did not need a minute to think so why he had to? He did not answer. He had some problem with me because I was not the mother of his child, I sensed.

That childless couple won case against the lab. I was allowed to keep the child since I was the one who bore it before birth. Both of us parent couples were given compensation. I was not happy to get that money. Why would I take money earned from the misery of my boy and spend it on worthless worldly possessions? I passed on that money to some childless couples. I did not want to be named as a messiah. I was not special but a simple human being trying to put broken pieces of my life together.

Months passed by quietly and one day I saw my husband back in our house. He kissed my boy, hugged me and asked for forgiveness. I smiled and asked what changed his mind? Was it the love he had for us? Was it the distance that put his heart in agony? Or simply the months added maturity to his age? He handed me a note which was given by the man of blonde couple. That note summarized the world to us. It comprised of some simple sentences and some unreadable blotted words. It asked us to value the sunshine we had because there were many heartbroken people who became miserable in pursuit of it their whole life.