Great Grandmother
That fact that I am here today to write this post, or rather, that I am even walking the face of this earth, is actually a miracle. A miracle that occurred three generations ago, when a little lady persevered with her son’s life. This post is a tribute to that wonderful woman who was my great-grandmother.
In an age where having 10-12 kids was considered the norm, my maternal grandfather was an only child. And, not by choice either.
My great-grandparents had completed over 16 years of married life before their one and only son was born. Living in a little town called Thrissur in the royal state of Cochin, they had tried just about every treatment that was available to them in India in the early 20th century, somewhere in the 1920s.
It was around then that an acquaintance told them about a big hospital in Madirashi (later called Madras and today known as Chennai), where they had had success in treating infertility. My great-grandparents must have been pretty well off then (history, a.k.a my aunts from whom I learned this story, are not particularly clear on that point), for they decided to go to Madras to pursue the new treatment there.
Unlike today, in those days if a couple did not have children, it was thought that maybe God had cursed them and things were left at that.
No one actually travelled to get treatment at, God forbid, a big hospital. Hospitals were also considered to be the last resort for a person, and if one went there, then it was surely to breathe his last. That was the kind of reputation hospitals had in those days.
Well, they went, they saw, and they conquered. With the advanced medical treatments available there, my great-grandma finally became pregnant. But, the pregnancy was riddled with difficulties. Once again, my aunts were not clear on what the specific difficulties were, but the problems were bad enough to have to induce a birth in the seventh month of pregnancy.
Things only began to get worse from there. There was just a midwife to assist at the birth. The Indian ‘midwife’ of those days was a completely different concept from the modern-day midwife in the Western world. In India, a midwife is generally a much older woman who has assisted in several child births in primitive conditions. She usually knew some herbal medicines, which may or may not work (who was to question her in those days?).
Anyway, the baby was delivered, a tiny baby boy who was just about as large as the midwife’s palm. The baby could not suckle, and the chances of survival were closer to zero. Remember, this was the 1930s and there were no incubators or any high-tech devices in that little town in India. All that a person could do was pray and hope for the best.
Yet, my great-grandma wouldn’t despair. She had been waiting for a little one of her own for 16 long years, and she was going to keep this one, even if it killed her. The baby needed constant warmth – so she wrapped the babe in a woolen sock (he was small enough to fit into a sock!). Next, she filled an empty cardboard box with hay and made a mini-incubator. She then attended to the baby round-the-clock to the exclusion of all else.
And all her efforts actually paid off. Against all odds, the baby survived! He grew up to be an exceptional young man, got married and had seven kids of his own. My own dear mother was his fourth daughter. And his mother (my great-grandma) survived to see all her grandkids – five grand daughters and two grandsons – and even got to see two great grandsons.
Great-Grandfather
Her words and techniques are still a byword among my Mom and her sisters, and even today, they fondly reminisce about how she was the first to teach them to write, by seating them at her knee and making them write out the alphabet with their fingers on sand. She was the one who taught them to appreciate music by having the radio tuned to the popular stations of the day.
Today, those seven kids have grown into a family of 36 – consisting of people in various walks of life – army officers, architects, designers, engineers and so on. And, all because of a single woman. Just imagine, if she had ever lost hope, none of them would be here today.
My great-grandma’s life is something that still inspires me to be a better person everyday – thinking of the possibilities that may be out there if I don’t lose hope – and still strive to do the right thing, no matter what the outcome. Hoping always for the best.
Have you ever had someone in your life who did the impossible and made life possible for all?
This is an original World Moms Blog post from our book-loving mom from India, Fire Crystals. You can also find Fire Crystals on her personal blog, Merry Musing.
Photo credits to the author.
Wow, what an awesome story! I often sit back and wonder at the strength and commitment of mothers.
One of my great-grandmothers apparently lost a baby after falling from a horse while pregnant – the mid-wife who attended her made sure that all of the blood and tissue were properly removed from her uterus. So many women in those days (early 1900s) did not have the same good luck. If it weren’t for that mid-wife my great-grandmother may not have survived. She went on to have three healthy children, two of whom are still alive at the ages of 93 (my grandmother) and 88.
Yes…and to think of all the hardships they went through. I often think we have it so easy.
Oh yes, even with epidurals and inductions. Say the word, “Easy” again!
This is a wonderful story. To think of infertility treatments today is nothing. But in those days, in India, it sure must have made a ruckus. And to think this wonderful woman bore it all for the love of a baby and had him and took care of him. I am sure it was only love because of which the sock-big baby survived.
You sure can think of yourself as a miracle woman 🙂
We really do take for granted the access we have these days to medical facilities and treatments. Your great-grandmother was amazing.
My grandmother was left a widow at a relatively young age, with 8 children to support (my father was the 5th child) and she managed to keep a roof over their heads, food on the table and her children all turned out well. I miss her everyday.
Wow! To have to support 8 kids must have been a real job.
I never met my great-grandmother, and I only know of her from the stories narrated by mu aunts about their childhood.
Thank you for such a lovely story about your family and life in India at that time. What a rich portrait of human endurance and love of family you’ve painted for us!
This is such an amazing story. Women had is so hard in the past. I think about my great-grandmother and what she endured in her life. I keep her memory alive so that I am sure not to squander my opportunities today. Thanks for sharing…
beautiful!!! <3
Thank you for sharing this story of such a truly amazing woman…..a true mother in every sense of the word. It is unimaginable what she must have gone through, and we can only be in awe of this truly beautiful woman and what she did to see her dreams of having a child come true!
Thank you for such an inspiring story. It really gives me a lift as an infertility survivor myself. I also have a son who likes to play with the keyboard!