At age 28 I was a single mom to a three year old girl. Born in an Indian home I was wed in an arranged sort of a set up where my parents, read father, chose the boy and I barely had any say in it. The violence was almost immediate, but where I come from, husbands are to be treated as Gods. I conceived, had my baby and continued to hide behind my charade of a marriage. I had told my parents many times about the beatings, but they kept telling me all would be well once I had a child. Sadly for me, things worsened after my baby. My husband wanted a boy and apparently I had shamed him by having a girl. The violence got so bad that one of my neighbors reported it and the cops intervened. I grabbed this opportunity to get out of the situation and filed for divorce immediately.
My parents (again read my father) were infuriated and refused to have anything to do with me. My husband decided to go to India, which did not leave me with much choice in terms of child support and alimony either, but I did know that I could not go back now. I started looking for a job. My problem was I was not qualified to do much.
I found a job as a nanny with an Indian surgeon’s family. The doctor was married to a European and had twins. He wanted the children to have an Indian influence and learn Hindi which is how I managed to get the job. We were even given a room in the house which made things very easy for me. After about six months I had settled well into my job when the doctor suggested that I try and enroll in a nursing school. He helped with the admission process, and I was given the evenings off to attend classes. Finally I could see my life getting back on course. My future looked bright and things looked good. My mom had started to talk to me on the phone again, and I was feeling good after a long time.
Once school started, I began to make friends too. In fact we would go out for a coffee after almost each class, and it is here that I began to date again. I was not looking for a serious relationship but it did feel good to be dating again. Then almost out of nowhere I began to suffer from dizzy spells and the doctor presumed that it was spondylitis. He asked me to come to the hospital for a check -up and I was rather shocked when I was told that I was three months pregnant. I suffered from PCOD and though I had not had a full period lately, I was not worried. I just lost my mind. I could not have a baby. I could not afford to have another baby. My family back home would never accept me leave alone the child. As an Indian the doctor understood my concerns and was looking to see if I could have an abortion, he also told me that adoption was also an option.
I was in such a fix that I could not even think straight. I came back home put my daughter to bed and just broke down crying. All the weeping took me back to when I was married and my husband would beat me up. I felt so helpless. I hated feeling helpless. I wanted to be in control and so decided to gather information rather than just weep. I began to look through the net just to get understand my options better and came upon an adoption information link. There was a lot of stuff up here. I kept surfing through the sites to understand how adoption works and the more I read the better I felt.
By next morning I was much more in control of my feelings. I spoke to the doctor and his wife and told them I would like to sign up for adoption. They helped me pick out the right couple and I went along with my pregnancy. Over these last few months I had come to realize that if I wanted my life to go my way, I will need to control it. I did not mention any of this to anyone at home. I wanted to keep it as quiet as possible. Of course my daughter was wondering why mommy was gaining so much weight, but I did not tell her that I was pregnant.
The next six months were not easy for me both physically or emotionally. Taking care of the twins, attending school and waddling around with a growing tummy was not the best of combination. But it passed. I had a C-section and gave up the baby for adoption. By now the twins had begun pre-school and my services as a nanny were no longer required. With the doctors recommendation I was able to take up a job at a hospital.
Tomorrow is my first day as a nurse. I have moved out into my own apartment and my baby girl is going to be celebrating her fifth birthday next weekend. The past two years have not been easy but they have paid off. I am today living my life on my own conditions and no one else gets to decide things for me. Sure I was lucky to find good people, who helped me along the way with the right advice, but I worked hard for what I have achieved today and that sure feels good.