Dos líneas

Two lines...

For women it sometimes means hell.

She came with the strip faintly positive, The second line barely visible yet not insignificant enough to be ignored.

Hailing from a low-middle class background, another Sonography meant much, though not more than what this may result to. 

She didn't have the resources to rear another child. 

A pregnancy was what she could not afford. Not now.

Showing the reports, she kept praying for a denial from the doctor. Lucky, she was.

An air of relief is sometimes so more important than any atmospheric oxygen. She would have collapsed to have heard otherwise. This was the third time in the last 10 months that she had to come to consult her doctor.

The past two times, she had been put to trauma. Getting 2 abortions had left deep imprints, on her body and her psyche. Looking frailer than before, she was still recuperating from the last termination, when this agony conjured.

Discussing the contraceptives with the doctor, she broke down.

Counselling her was not useful anymore. Coz she knew what she wanted, and precautious was something she had by now become an expert at. It was someone else who needed counselling, and probably a stint at de-addiction clinic.

She loved him immensely, and so did he. And she knew it, by his caring ways, and his expressiveness for the love they shared. He had always supported her and her decisions. They had together resolved to not extend their family of three, and had also readily agreed to the protected version. They had been on a roll, except that minor friction which got them off-track. Not once, but thrice.

Alcohol not only kicked him, but also got him off-guard. 'Spirits bring in him the spirit of beasts. I am left to his pity and his conscience; the conscience which evaporates with alcohol, and rains with the hangover.'

Weeping, she informed that his husband did not want to leave alcohol, and also not come for the family planning counselling.

Such barbaric repeated episodes of mistreatment and subsequent harm to her health is not what she was going to take anymore. She wanted a way out. Peace could be reached. But how?

Getting an Intrauterine contraceptive device placed, she walks back home relieved of ONE big aspect. Conception worries.

The path she takes has got to be hers, and her hubby's. Together.

Together...till he accepts to understand, or till she grits to suffer.

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Random musings

What is left in a woman's life if even her husband is not worth the trust?

A man can share a woman's life, not own it.

Alcohol. A jinx that creates more bruises and breaks than the euphoria it promises to offer.

'Why people take it to give themselves to it; remains a mystery!' To me atleast.

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