sarchakra | recipes

S turned 22 today. I still remember the day she was born. Whittington Hospital, London. I started having labor pains and rushed in, already knowing what was coming-second child and all. The pain died down for a bit, just long enough for the midwife to , quite rudely I may add, announce, ‘Keep walking.’ So R walked with me, trying to keep me composed while I complained the entire time. We walked for nearly an hour, stopping, starting, me muttering, him steady beside me. Then labour hit full force. No epidural this time. The first one had completely derailed things-slowed everything, stretched the agony-so I went natural. Everything happened fast. Too fast. I ended up with a massive tear and, just after giving birth, a full-blown seizure. I spasmed and kicked, and in the chaos my newborn flew off the birthing bed. R caught her mid-air before she could hit the floor. Ms Brown was not happy with me- she told my daughter- you complain too much like your Mum 🤦🏻‍♀️

Pure drama.

My mum and R looked as wrecked as I felt. They went home for the night, leaving me to ‘rest.’ Rest didn’t happen. Every time I put her down on the bed, in the cot, she cried. The moment I picked her up, she settled. Over and over again. So I stayed up all night, seated, holding her in the same position until morning. Exhausted doesn’t begin to cover it.

When my mum and R came back first thing, they found me exactly where they’d left me. Same position. Same posture. My mum asked ‘Did you not sleep?’ I explained. Meanwhile, the baby was perfectly content, happily chomping away as if nothing dramatic had ever occurred.

I remember the rush of love. I remember how excited her brother was when he first saw her. We told him this was something we’d do together, and he took it seriously. He brought diapers, handed wipes, fetched teething rings later on. In the years that followed, he even sat with her, patiently trying to teach her maths.

Memories stay. And even though I don’t feed her anymore, she is still inextricably tied to my heartstrings, no matter how far away she is. A beautiful girl, maturing into a beautiful woman. I love you, S #sarchakra Disclaimer: I did not make the cake