83. MOTHER
AAROHI:
I wake up because of crying. Soft at first. Tiny. Broken little sounds. For one second, I don't understand where I am. The hospital ceiling above me feels unfamiliar in the dim yellow light. My body aches everywhere. My head feels heavy.
My stomach feels strangely empty now. Then another tiny cry reaches me. And suddenly I remember everything. The labor. The pain. The rain. The fear in Veeransh's eyes. The first cries of my babies. My babies.
I turn my head slowly. The bassinets beside the hospital bed come into view. And my heart stops. They're really here. Not inside me anymore. Not just kicks. Not just sonography pictures. Not tiny heartbeats from machines.
My children. The baby girl cries softly again, moving tiny hands near her face. The baby boy sleeps beside her, wrapped tightly in white cloth, his tiny mouth slightly open. A sudden ache rises in my chest so strong it almost hurts more than delivery.
I push myself up slowly. Pain immediately shoots through my body. A small gasp escapes my lips. The movement wakes Veeransh instantly. He's sleeping on the couch beside my bed, still in the same clothes from yesterday, head resting awkwardly against the cushion.
The moment he sees me sitting he stands immediately. "Aarohi." His voice still sounds tired. Concerned. "You shouldn't get up alone." "I'm okay." That's a lie. Nothing in my body feels okay right now.
But my eyes stay fixed on the babies. The baby girl cries again.
And something inside me reacts instantly.
Instinctively. Without thinking. "I think she wants me.
.." My own voice sounds strange. Soft. Almost disbelieving.
Veeransh looks at me for a second before quietly calling the nurse.
The nurse enters after a moment with a warm smile.
"Looks like someone is awake." She carefully lifts the baby girl and places her gently into my arms.
The second she settles against my chest she stops crying.
Completely. Silence fills the room. I freeze.
My hands tremble slightly beneath the tiny weight of her body.
She's so warm. So unbelievably small. Her tiny cheek rests against me naturally like she belongs there.
Like she knows me. The nurse smiles softly.
"She knows her mother." And that sentence destroys me completely.
Tears suddenly fill my eyes so fast I can't stop them.
I stare down at her tiny face through blurred vision.
Mother. Me. I'm her mother. My lips tremble.
A broken breath leaves my chest. And before I realize it, tears begin falling continuously.
Not loud crying. Just silent tears. Overwhelming.
I carefully touch her tiny fingers. She immediately curls them around one of mine.
Oh God. My chest aches so much from love it almost scares me.
"Hi..." My voice breaks completely. "I'm your mama. .."
The words don't feel real. The baby shifts softly in my arms, sleepy and warm. I kiss her forehead carefully. Again. And again. Unable to stop. Behind me, I hear movement. Veeransh. But he says nothing. I look up slightly.
He's standing near the couch watching us silently. And the look in his eyes makes my heart ache even more. Something soft. Something healed. Something peaceful. Like watching me hold our daughter fixed something broken inside him.
His eyes meet mine. He smiles faintly. "She already likes you more.
" A watery laugh escapes me. "She's my daughter.
" "She betrayed me already." I laugh again softly through tears.
Then suddenly another cry fills the room.
Louder. Much louder. I look toward the second bassinet quickly.
The baby boy is awake now. And crying dramatically.
My eyes widen immediately. "Why is he crying?
" The nurse laughs softly. "Because babies cry. "
"No but" I panic slightly. "What if something happened?
" Veeransh immediately walks over and carefully lifts him.
The crying somehow becomes louder. I stare helplessly.
"Oh God." Veeransh looks equally confused.
"Why is he screaming at me?" The nurse tries not to laugh.
"He's hungry probably." "How do you know that?
" She smiles. "Instinct." Veeransh looks down at our son suspiciously.
"You're too small to already create problems." The baby cries louder in response.
I burst into exhausted laughter. And suddenly Veeransh starts laughing too.
Sleep-deprived. Emotionally destroyed. Completely clueless.
Two people who have absolutely no idea what they're doing.
The nurse shakes her head smiling. "Welcome to parenthood.
" The room feels softer after that. Warmer.
The storm outside ended hours ago. Now only occasional rain taps gently against the windows.
Hospital lights glow dimly around us. And somehow.
.. This feels more like home than anywhere else ever has.
The nurse helps me feed the babies carefully. Everything feels terrifying. I'm scared to hold them wrong. Scared to move too fast. Scared to breathe too hard near them. The baby girl stays calmer. The boy keeps making tiny angry sounds every few minutes.
"He's definitely your nature," I whisper to Veeransh. He looks offended. "How?" "He already looks angry at the world." Veeransh smirks faintly. "He's a Sarkar." I roll my eyes weakly.
Then I look back down at our daughter. Her tiny eyelashes. Her tiny nose. Her little fingers resting against my skin. And suddenly another wave of emotion crashes into me. Not happiness this time. Fear. Deep. Heavy fear. What if I fail them?
The thought appears so suddenly it steals my breath. What if I don't know how to be a mother? What if I hurt them unknowingly? What if I become weak? What if one day they stop needing me? What if something happens to them?
My chest tightens painfully. The tears return instantly. Veeransh notices immediately. His expression changes. "Aarohi?" I shake my head quickly. But more tears fall. He carefully hands our son back to the bassinet and comes beside me immediately.
"What happened?" I try speaking. Nothing comes out properly. "I..." My throat burns. "I'm scared." His face softens instantly. "Of what?" "Everything." The confession leaves me broken. Raw. "I don't know how to do this."
His hand gently wipes my tears away. "You will." "What if I'm not enough for them?" "You are." "What if I fail?" "You won't." "How do you know?" His eyes stay fixed on mine quietly. Because he knows where this fear comes from. Loneliness. Pain.
The childhood wounds I never fully spoke about. The fear of becoming emotionally broken enough to hurt my own children accidentally. My voice shakes. "What if one day they hate me?"
His expression changes immediately. Almost hurt that I could even think that. He carefully kneels beside the hospital bed. Then gently touches both babies. "These two..." His voice becomes softer than I've ever heard it.
"They'll grow up knowing one thing for sure." I look at him silently through tears. "That their mother loved them more than herself." My breathing trembles. He continues quietly "And I'll spend my whole life making sure you never carry this alone."
That breaks me completely. I start crying harder instantly.
Not from fear anymore. Relief. Love. Safety.
Because for the first time in my life I actually believe someone means it when they say they'll stay.
Veeransh carefully pulls me closer despite the babies between us.
I rest my forehead against his shoulder weakly.
His hand moves gently through my hair. And for a while. .. Neither of us speaks.
The baby boy suddenly makes another dramatic crying sound. Veeransh sighs deeply. "He's definitely mine." I laugh softly against his shoulder. The baby girl stays asleep peacefully beside me. "She's calm like you," he whispers. I look at her tiny sleeping face.
Then at our son still moving constantly. And suddenly I can see it. Our future. Late nights. Tiny footsteps. School mornings. Fever. Laughter. Birthdays. Crying. Family dinners. Little hands holding ours. A home finally full of love instead of loneliness.
The thought makes tears return again. Veeransh notices immediately.
"You cry too much now." "That's your fault.
" "How?" "You made me emotional." He smirks slightly.
"You were emotional already." I try glaring at him weakly.
But then the baby boy suddenly yawns. And both of us freeze instantly.
"Oh my God," I whisper. Veeransh stares too.
"That was illegal." I burst into exhausted laughter again.
The nurse eventually dims the lights further and leaves us alone. The room becomes quiet again. Peaceful. The babies finally settle properly. Veeransh carefully helps me lie back down. The baby girl rests beside me in the small hospital bassinet attachment.
The boy beside her. And Veeransh lies carefully near us on the narrow hospital bed edge despite how uncomfortable it looks. I turn my head slowly. And stare at them. My husband. My children. My family.
The word still feels unreal. Family. Not temporary.
Not forced. Not broken. Mine. The baby girl makes a tiny sleepy sound.
The boy moves his little hand near his face.
And suddenly my heart feels too full for my body.
Veeransh notices me staring. "What?" I shake my head softly.
Then whisper "We made them." His eyes move toward the babies.
A slow smile appears on his face. "Yeah. "
Silence settles warmly around us again. Outside, dawn slowly begins replacing the darkness beyond the hospital windows. A new morning. A new life. And as I watch my babies sleep beside me I realize something quietly. For the first time in my life... I'm not alone anymore like my childhood.
i have family, my family.