To Have It All Over Again

Dear darling baby, Aabi

I am here again, with empty hands and aching arms, witnessing days that are painful in new ways. The need and desire to talk to you is so persistent that it makes me want to close up into a shell. I keep replaying your videos at the highest volume for your voice to be heard all around the house at all times. The sweetest ways in which you pronounce everything, your gestures while talking, your moves while moving around doing things, and the glee in your voice maintain what my heart, mind, and body understand as normal. The feeling of having to imagine what you might have been doing in real time is beyond my expression. May a mother never have to endure this.

Almost every day, every moment runs through my mind. I ask a million questions to this universe about why anyone would be given so much pain. Then the question, which is as old as life itself, comes up: Would it have been better if I had never had you? Would that have spared us all of this pain of separation? Would it have been better if my prayers were never answered and you never came into our lives? At this question, the mind freezes. It doesn't rush to imagine scenarios to get an answer. It slows down and pauses. Every time I try, it fails to imagine my life, our life without you!

Aabi, we decided to have you not for any one reason. The thought of bringing you into this world came as beautifully and easily as a feather would slowly fly into the wind. There were discussions about how life would change, but never a strong resistance. You were always the thought that completed us, always the thought that built and strengthened your sister, and always the one that would direct us ahead. And my lovely, you came and fulfilled every single one of these thoughts. The tiredness and fatigue happened in waves, and I have honestly lost my sense of it all being bearable or not, because losing you has now given a new meaning to everything.

To think now, if it had been better to not have you than to have you and lose you? I have started despising the question. Why does it keep coming up? It is cruel in the sense that it needs me to imagine the life before to answer it. Before you, we were great. Your sister was everything, but a lot more beautiful in countless ways with you. She was the princess till you arrived, and became the queen in your presence. Taking decisions for both of you, taking care of you and your little tantrums, dressing you up, reliving her baby days, has made her a queen who beautifully places the princess tiara on her baby sister's head. Your papa was a carefree, mellow man, but became chipper and conscientious with you. I was active and playful all the time with your sister, and yet became so much more cheery and efficient with you. Our entire home has been more festive, playful, and complete. You came with all the joy in the world and lit us all up in ways we never even imagined we could be lit up.

You have left us so incomplete and broken that we are all unable to find ourselves. We do not know how to manage feelings that are there but cannot be conveyed. Thoughts and urges that come up have no outlet. To have to keep these within ourselves and go on functioning is a lesson too hard for anyone ever. Losing a child is like blocking a huge, strong river. The pressure is so powerful that it can destroy almost anything. Carrying that pressure is something that I am unable to put into words. But is it stronger than the love we carry for you? Would we choose to be without these feelings at all? I think we would not have known of these feelings had we not known the love with you. But would we want it all, again, knowing what comes today?

Aabi, you came with love from unknown territories. We would in a heartbeat choose to live all of it again and again and again. I would over and over and over want to be your mother, want to see your sister feel the sibling love you brought, want to see your papa be all rolicking, no matter what. Knowing what comes after makes me want it all the more. I would love to hold you the same, watch you bring glitter into our lives, and witness how a baby, a small child, is capable of bringing infinite ways of happiness. Not for a second would I choose a life that never got to feel you, your life, your love. The gentle touch, the strong love, the crazy fun, the soft, mischievous smiles, the cutest of expressions, the liveliest of talks, and the most beautiful cuddles are a treasure we all would never want our lives to be without.

The question in this sense now seems selfish and cruel. Even the fact that it comes up in my mind is unfair. If we could have it all again, we would have it just the same. I would want a world that has known Aabi, a family that has you, thinks about you, people around me who talk about your little ways, and stories that have you in them. The only part I would want to erase forever is the moment of our separation, if humans ever become powerful enough to control their lives.

Till then, I want to push this question aside and have you in all my moments forever. I will continue to share stories of your love, mischief, fun, playfulness, beauty, and your gentleness as much as I can. As a family, we struggle without you every day, like all those who have loved and lost a precious person. For having you is a gift of love, and losing you is a loss, both immeasurable. Our grief and sadness are so immense because our love is immense and endless. They both now walk hand-in-hand. Nothing less than the other, maybe forever. Aabi, we walk with you, never without you, for we are we only with you!

Having loved and lost is as personal and precious as anything can ever be. For those of you experiencing this, at a crossroads of trying to navigate whether it would have been better to not have them at all, I want to share that the question is out of question. Having them made you more of you, and the best we can do in these circumstances is dedicate our lives by sharing their moments with the world, making it a better place with them in it, always!