Unmatched emotions

The television screen in the OPD reception played a black and white song, as she shifted anxiously in her seat. She heaved the large plastic bag with one broken handle onto the empty chair on her right. It carried eleven files with all her previous reports. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her husband, seated in the chair next to her, placed a reassuring hand over her clenched fist. She could feel the callosities and blisters on his palm. A welder by profession, he had taken the day off to accompany her to the clinic. She looked into his weary eyes. Behind the façade of strength and poise, she knew he hid despair and helplessness. It had been long enough… Thirteen long years of childlessness! In these thirteen years, they had seen it all- the carefree coyness of newlyweds gradually transforming into concern, anxiety, frenzy… numerous visits to several doctors… prayers at various temples… a lot of unsolicited advice from family, friends, colleagues, random strangers… fingers pointed, hurtful comments passed… they had run from pillar to post, frantically trying one remedy after the other. They had spent more money than they ever had, not just on several doctors, but also on several deities, pilgrimages, offerings, seemingly superstitious beliefs; pining in despair, praying that one thing out of the hundreds they tried would work! And then, one day, they had lost all hope. They had decided they’ll stop trying… maybe parenthood wasn’t their cup of tea!

Earlier that morning, my phone had rung just as I was getting into my car. “Hello, is it Dr. Naralkar?” asked a nervous voice on the phone. “I got your number from Dr. Mane. I would like to come and see you. Would you be available at the clinic today?”

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I was bent over my computer screen when the nurse at the clinic placed a blank case paper on my desk. “There’s a new patient, doctor. She said she had an appointment.” “Send her in,” I nodded.

Minutes later, a middle- aged couple walked into my room. The wife was short, a little bit on the heavier side, dressed in a faded cotton saree. The husband was tall and lanky. But the most striking feature about both of them was a similar look of concern in their eyes. I greeted them with a smile and beckoned them to the chairs across my table. Till they settled themselves down, I studied their personal details they had filled up on the case paper. The lady was a nurse by profession, working in one of the top- notch medical colleges of the city. She was aged 39, her husband 42.

“Madam, we had given up. We’ve just come to you because Dr. Mane insisted we try one last time. We have got all our reports along,” she said as she emptied the contents of her plastic bag in a heap on the table, “But please let us know if it is possible for us to become parents or not. We want an honest opinion. We’ve played along for too long now, we are tired.” She looked into my eyes and pleaded. Her gaze stirred my soul.

I studied all their records carefully and asked them for a few more details.

“Will we ever become parents?” It was such a difficult question to answer!

I looked back at her and took a deep breath. “I’ll be very honest with you. Your reports do not indicate there is anything grossly wrong which would prevent you from conceiving a child. I have picked up a few nuances which we can surely work on. However, age is not on our side. Neither are the results of the previous failed treatment cycles very encouraging. There are a few things that are in our hands, but a lot that is beyond our control. I appreciate that you are willing to try whatever it takes for one last time, and I thank you for placing your trust in me. However, you have to realize that I am not God. I can, and will, try my best honestly and earnestly, to the best of my knowledge and capability. However, I cannot guarantee anything. I do realize you have spent a lot of money. I shall try my best to minimize the expenses in whatever treatment we choose to follow for you. I’ll tell you frankly before we start what your chances are. The choice would be yours. Even if you do decide to go home and save money for your retirement instead of running behind a child, I perfectly understand, and I would never insist you change your mind. Ultimately, it is your call and I would always wish whatever is the best for you.”

We discussed at length the treatment options. All the knowledge I had garnered through my books, from my teachers, told me to go ahead with an In Vitro Fertilisation cycle for her. But instinct told me otherwise. I was very upfront with them and told them the chances, the costs involved, and what each treatment modality would include. Ultimately, we chalked out a treatment plan.

As I signed the prescription I wrote for her, it hit me that the onus was on me. Here was a couple who had spent all their life’s earnings, and a lot more than what money can ever account for, on the child they hoped to raise some day… They had placed their trust and faith in me. I was their last bet! If I failed, that would be the coup de grace to all their efforts.

I suddenly felt I was a very small element in this world to make any difference! She had been to several practitioners, much senior to me by age and experience, and even they hadn’t been able to make her barren womb bear fruit. And yet, here I was, proceeding with a treatment plan based on instinct, though backed by my knowledge. Medicines and technology would allow me to control and monitor what happens inside the woman’s body to an extent, but finally, the process of conceiving a child and implanting it within her womb was to be left to nature.

I saw her on several occasions in that month as I monitored her treatment. She always was very earnest and humble. There are a few people you take a liking to instantly- she is one of them! As doctors, we train ourselves to not get our emotions involved with those of patients’, which is exceptionally difficult especially in my the branch. As an Infertility specialist, it is tough to look at someone in the eye and tell them their chances of conceiving are bleak, without feeling a tinge of remorse yourself. It is tough to ignore that the only ornament the woman sitting across you has on her is the single black thread with a gold bead, and then tell her the costs involved in the only treatment modality that carries any hope for her, without letting your heart bleed. It is tough to break the news to an expectant mother that her unborn child’s heart has stopped beating, without your eyes getting moist. And then it is tough to forget all this, go home and live life as a normal person, a wife, a daughter, a mother!

But that is what life is all about! Switching on and off, going to and fro between emotions and practicality.

A month passed by. One morning, at the clinic, I once again noticed her case paper on my table. She came in with her husband. I looked up in anticipation, trying hard to keep a neutral face. She fished out a packet from her purse. With trembling hands, she held a urine pregnancy test kit in front of me. It showed two pink lines…. It was positive! She was pregnant!

My face broke out into a smile as I looked up at her beaming face. Tears of joy were running down her cheeks.  It was a moment, when neither of us said anything, yet, a lot was spoken!

However, my ‘Doctori Dimaag’ immediately came back to all that could possibly go wrong. Practicality took over at an emotional moment yet again! As I highlighted the do’s and don’ts to ensure a smooth run during her pregnancy, I carefully wrote down a prescription for her. We fixed up an appointment for a sonography after a week.

The day of the sonography dawned. I noticed she was tense, as we both looked at the screen. I adjusted the settings on the machine and we heard the ‘thud thud thud thud’ of the baby’s heartbeats for the first time ever! Her husband, too, seated just outside the curtain, saw the graph on the screen. It was a healthy baby!

That day, for the first time since she had started visiting me, I saw her leave the clinic with a spring in her step! The look of joy on their faces as they exchanged a look while she caressed the image printed on the report is one that can never ever be put into words. Neither can what I felt that day!

Today, I feel thankful. Thankful that life has given me the opportunity to sit on this chair, do my bit for couples like them. Thankful that today I have the knowledge that can help make a difference in at least a few lives. Thankful that my work is indeed, worship to me! And exceedingly humbled that she, and many like her, chose me!

The author is a young dynamic Obstetrician, Gynaecologist and Infertility Specialist practising at Pune.