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Vositha's Blog

~ a story of life, love and other things

Vositha's Blog

Tag Archives: pregnancy

“Continuing on Miss and Mrs..”

21 Tuesday Aug 2012

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

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Tags

contraceptive pills. condoms, gynaecologist, pregnancy, sex, sexually transmitted disease

So the blog post I wrote on how the titles matter or NOT have cause a few opinions to come forth. While one of my friends in the medical profession claimed that in any receipt or form the title being correctly put would play a key role, as some people are pretty anal about being considered Miss when Mrs, or vice versa another one of my friends claimed that one of her friends had been even refused medical care upon answering in the negative to the question “are you married?” So if you are wondering what am I ranting on about here goes the story of one girl living in the city of Colombo, unmarried and seeking medical advice. In the midst of that interaction another friend provided me this story.

So let’s call this person Nadi. Nadi has apparently had doubts whether she was having a sexually transmitted disease, and hence wanted to get a medical opinion. She goes to a gynaecologist and explains her situation. The doctor asks her “are you married?” and she says “no”. The result: the appointment is at an end, she is refused treatment and left with her continuing woe of not knowing if has or has not a sexually transmitted disease. Kind of obscenely weird I must say, but then again it has been an actual occurrence and lived by a person living in the city of Colombo.

However among such doctors, there are also those who do not pay attention to details of marriage and would just take the medical issue of concern to concentration. I have been blessed to have such from my gynaecologist, and he has been pretty open about lot of things, while making me feel comfortable about my pregnancy. Though I am married, he has not ever asked me if I was or not, and even upon noting the absence of the paternal party of late, he has been like “chill men! Kid’s are strong, you take care of yourself!” I respect the man for not trying to make me feel worse than I should given my plight, and for making me feel reassured. Focus on the issue and not other rubbish, seems to be his motto. I am grateful that there are doctors like him. I think I am lucky, while some of us seem to end up with a bad dose of medical experts who try to force down people’s throats, their moral dilemmas and discriminate those who come to them for medical advice.

However the deal does not seem to be restricted to the hospitals alone. It extends to pharmacies when one needs to purchase contraceptive pills, where the supplier of medicine glances at the fingers to check the wedding ring and then provide one of those condescending looks that your great grandmother would give.

I wonder what it is like for men to buy condoms in Sri Lankan shops. Not sure if they also go through the same drama or is it just a privileged allocated to women. Then again is this pharmacist’s attitude which cause Sri Lankan’s to have unprotected sex? One never knows, but it could be a possible factor which plays a role. On speaking of sex, my father in law provided me with a wonderful statement which is a little short of being divine “ men will say things, but good women should know how to behave!” I think he kind of summed up the society’s opinion of sex and the fault game in one line. Men will have sex, it is upto the woman to NOT have sex!

So yes, I am sure that the Miss and Mrs plays a part in people’s lives and forms filled, but upon hearing the stories it does seem to be weighing a little too much on people’s lives as sometimes your status of marriage seem to block you from accessing medical advice or gaining treatment where it be necessary. Time for some thinking, don’t you think?

“ Pregnancy Tests Should be Mother friendly NOT Marriage friendly!”

17 Friday Aug 2012

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

marriage, pregnancy, pregnancy test

So apart from other complications in my life, I am told that I have pregnancy complications too. Not that I have been unable to recognise that with whatever I have been going through of late, physically of course, but then to be confirmed by the doctor on the matter was, well not relieving in this case. The water levels of the baby is not normal, he says, and some acidic level in the blood ain’t too good either. I do not catch his scientific explanation as my education of science was force fed and was not necessarily appreciated. Anyhow in summary I am to get tests done, and to have the delivery of the kid, way in advance than the date expected. Awesome I think, considering the troubles I am going through at present in finding a maid to take care of the kid. No I do not want to drown the poor thing (referring to the baby of course) while trying to give him a bath! Having never played with dolls in my childhood, I have not much faith even in holding the little living doll, when he will scream himself out of the womb.

Anyways, the doctor having highlighted all the anomalies, tells me that I need to go get a particular test done, and that it is available in Asiri hospital. And daddy dearest has his own reaction to this. He claims that the test should be available in any lab, and that the doctor would be thinking of getting a commission out of directing me to one particular place. I maintain silence, a practice I have developed since moving back home, and having to depend on my parents for the next 4 months at least, unable to work with the little bundle of resilience to take care of. Life changes in the most fucked up ways, than ever expected, and after 12 years I will have to bear with total dependency on my parents, something I hate at all times, and something I despise vehemently given that the baby will be a presence in that picture as well. Silence, silence, and more silence.

Anyways the ordeal does not end at that. I walk into the counter, and the people are not too familiar with what the test is. And tells me after 3 readings, that it will cost me 2520 LKR. I look in my purse for money not sure whether I had that amount, and feel relieved upon that I have 2580 LKR in my purse, and that I would not have to walk back to the car to get money from my father.
And then comes the million dollar question that I hear too many times upon getting a pregnancy related test done.

“Your name please?” “ V. Wijenayake.
Then to unnecessary specifics “Mrs, right?”

I always wonder what importance this stupid question plays in getting a test done.
a. Does it have an impact on the rest results?
b. Is it only married women who get pregnant?
c. Do you have to be married to be pregnant?

Or should it be the fourth option of having this social norm of trying to make women who would want to get a pregnancy test done without being married feel uncomfortable, because only women who are “bad” would get pregnant out of wedlock.

I just do not get it, but it really drives me insane every time this question is asked. It is time the society gets a grip of their selves to accept that people in Sri Lanka do have sex out of wedlock, and that woman have the right to get a pregnancy test done, whether they be married or not. And if they choose to be so, even to be unmarried mums, and raise their kids. What is important is to as long know how to behave and raise a kid without messing up the poor kid’s brain.

So please give the women a break! They have enough shit to deal with without having to deal with this type of innuendos every time they need a pregnancy test done too!

“Her” Son

18 Wednesday Jul 2012

Posted by vositha in Fiction

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

cravings, Nugegoda, pregnancy, redemption, son, tears

Lying on the floor, at her parents’ living room she dreamt of her baby. The vocabulary had changed from “our” baby to “her” baby, and the entitlement has restricted itself. She always had thought it was their baby, that they would raise the child together, even when he had told her that he was with her, only for the kid and nothing else. But as of now, she had realised that hope for any commitment from those who do not grasp the concept of commitment had failed her too many times. She was not angry with him anymore for sleeping around, abandoning her and the kid, or even the lies he told, she was merely angry with herself for believing in redemption when he had proved incapable of such.

Her baby looked like his dad, in her dream. He had the same expression and the nose, though his eyes were unlike the dad’s. They were more like hers, and he seemed too bored to do anything. That she thought was expected. He had stopped acting hyper for a while since his dad had left, he kicked once in a while, and mostly moved from one end of her belly to another, like a huge lump who could not be bothered. She could feel him when she took her hand over her belly, in bumps across her skin, and occasionally could feel most probably his heart beat. She did not think her son would keep kicking over 40 times, unless he was fed up of being stuck inside and was trying to kick his mum a good deal to indicate to the stupid woman to let him out. A tantrum at a very young age, to be expected too, given the circumstances.

She was yet to outgrow her tears, but had started planning for her kid alone. She had decided on the little clothes that would fit him, the little things that he would need, a cot to be bought, and other things, though at times when looking at them she could feel tears roll down remembering them going through baby things together. But she did not see the point anymore, she did not see why she should sob thinking of a man who had left, and not bothered. Not bothered to check whether his son was alright, whether his wife was alright, whether the doctors’ appointments were met, and whether she had got her medical tests done. But at times she could not help herself, and was yet to gain the courage to forget it all.

It was like she was back to age of schooling, when her parents called up to check on her, to see if she had had her meals, or whether she was feeling alright, whether she had money, or whether she had work on that particular day. Things he had not done since marriage. He has not remembered that his wife waited for him to come home to have diner, and took his own time in getting home pass midnight, when she had out grown her hunger and gone to lie down, waiting to open the gates for her.

Her mum had made milk rice for her. She had remembered that her daughter never mentioned any cravings nor asked for anything. She just kept puking and working, and in the intervals crying over the failed marriage and a man who had told her that he loved another more than he loved her. She remembered how he had asked him to get her an ice cream one day to be refused because there was traffic at the Nugegoda junction. She had cried her way home, and then decided to never ask for anything. Not for ice cream nor anything else. She did not buy herself any clothes for a while, not till her belly really started showing and she could not fit into her pants, or her dresses. Then too she had waited till she had her money, to go pick two dresses that would help her survive the next two months of her pregnancy. Her dad had wanted to come with her, and wanted to buy her clothes, she was still her daughter, though she carried a kid of a man they did not see much value of, but she had refused, knowing that she had cost him enough and more with a wedding, a failed marriage, a house rented and everything else that was yet to come.

She did not want to think of the past, she wanted to move on, but pieces of her life kept flashing through, when least welcome. She remembered when she thought they were happy, and picked him over everything else, though he was throughout feeding her with lies and screwing the other. She tried not to think of those little moments of happiness that lingered, when the rest was all an illusion. She thought of her son who would now know his father.

People tell her she is strong, and that she is not stupid. Their words make no sense to her, at least not at this stage. Some ask her to rethink, to reconsider. Reconsider what? What was she to do? Was she to track him down in another land, to beg him to come back, and be with her and the baby, when he paid no heed to anything, or the birth of his son, and was adamant he did not want to try to make things work.

People ask her the typical question, what will you tell your son when he asks where his dad is? She has only one answer, and that is, that she would tell him the whole story of his dad and her, and how he left them and went away, and how he and her both meant not much, faced with his concern for his own happiness.

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