Bedside Manner - Part 4

For the first time in the last 24 hours, I was finally able to feel some amount of relief. Even though it hurt like hell, I joyously left my wheelchair and exchanged it for the glider in the NICU. I had been carrying around my blue blanket and with it under me, I almost felt okay.

Until Rumi began to cry.

And I realised that the new nurse managing him was a man! I mean, I am all for equality, but the first thought in my head - how would he be able to help me breastfeed? I am already so lost, where will we go from here?

Secret #2 - Gender has zero correlation with empathy.

I tried to be vulnerable. Sharing with Arjun, the male nurse, why I was so shaky. What all had happened in the last 24 hours. How my quasi medical background made it worse. How I half understood everything and felt lost anyway.

At first, he seemed unmoved.

Then, as I tried endlessly - perhaps for an hour or so - to get Rumi to feed, Arjun walked up to me. And he offered simple suggestions. Had I had a chance to learn how to express my milk? Had I learnt to pump? Had I considered formula?

And unlike the nurse in maternity, Arjun's questions didn't seem judgemental. Nor his reaction when I almost lashed out. I told him I wanted to exclusively breastfeed, and no I had no interest in pumping or expressing. t wanted it to be as natural as possible.

He simple backed away and gave me space to try again.

Sometimes you need a minute. And he gave me that.

On the toughest night of my life, he was like a quiet, calm, assuring presence. He knew what to do, and he did it.

At the right time, he came back, syringe in hand. He offered that we could pour some formula on the breast. The intent was to encourage Rumi to latch and satisfy him while the actual milk took its time to come.

This seemed reasonable. And it appeared to work.

Then Lohit came back. He had been trying to call me but of course my phone was on silent. Also, feeding and using the phone simultaneously wasn't a skill I had yet mastered.

He could tell that I was busy feeding Rumi and I would not move until Rumi had slept. He offered to go back to the room and wait for me to call so he could come back and pick me up once I was ready.

I spent the next hour or so feeding. And then Rumi slept calmly in my arms. The pleasure of that first time you have been able to soothe your baby. NOTHING compares to it.

And then, I called Lohit. Five, maybe six times. And he wouldn't answer.

Nearly midnight, an exhausted broken body, and a hanging-by-the-thread spirit, I broke down. For many minutes I felt completely helpless. I knew I couldn't walk to maternity. It would take strength that I didn't have. I knew I couldn't stay there. I was thirsty. (Breastfeeding makes you feel like you can drink endlessly and still not be done. More, I couldn't even remember that I needed to keep myself hydrated.) I was drained. And I felt more alone that I had ever felt before.

Teary eyed, I asked Julia (the NICU in-charge for the night) if she could think of any way to help me. Angel that she was, she wheeled me herself to maternity. (She told me this was not usual but given what Lohit had told her about our situation, she felt compelled to help). Some humans make you believe in the good in the world. She is one of them.

When I reached back, Lohit of course had passed out. He woke up, dazed, terror-struck. Wondering what had happened to me. I told him it was okay. I said I needed to change and we would eat Sushi after that.

As I went to the washroom, I realised I couldn't find a change of clothes. I was so dependent on mom for packing and managing everything that I couldn't find anything. I stayed in my blood stained clothes and decided to cry it out a bit.

Day 1 of being a mother had been one disaster too many. Yet, I felt grateful. For being able to go to Rumi when he needed. Even in the worst physical condition, I couldn't think of anything but that beautiful baby in the NICU.

Nature sure has a funny way of making us fall in love.

As we finally fell asleep after eating Sushi, my body couldn't be more thankful for that bed and my blue blanket.

Thirty minutes later, the phone rang. It was from the NICU. And we learnt rather quickly that newborns don't sleep!