To the makers of the movie Mimi

First of all, I would like to thank you for opening the dialogue about Down syndrome in our Indian society.  Thank you for showing that a child (in utero) with or without a disability deserves a chance to be born. Thank you for showing the varied reactions parents can have when receiving the diagnosis of Down syndrome for their unborn or just born child, even as honest as having talks of terminating the pregnancy.

I am a mom to a baby boy Laksh, who turned 4 on the weekend of August 1st when we watched your movie on netflix. I was pleasantly surprised to learn of the plot of the movie but I ended up with an ache in my heart to learn that even though the diagnosis was given with utmost surety (the words ‘has Down syndrome’ not ‘may have Down syndrome’ were used), the child did not end up having Down syndrome. The lead actor says, “ Bachche mein problem nahi Nikli but tumhari soch mein nikli” (the child didn’t end up having a problem but your thinking sure did). But the point is having Down syndrome is NOT a problem but thinking that way is.

 If only the child did in fact have Down syndrome and everything else in your story remained the same, it would have been perfect, just like my Laksh.

Post Partum depression

Don’t want to take anything away from the seriousness of what happened with Nima, but it has been weighing heavily on me. Writing this post has been very very difficult for me and I am not sure if i should ever share this but I’m trying to #breakthestigma4nima so please hear me out.

This is a photo of me on 06/06/2020 seconds after Veer made his grand entry. I felt every emotion that I could possibly imagine, I felt happiness, relief, joy, anxiety, fear, excitement and so much more.

I was happy because he was finally here and scared because he was finally here, in the middle of a global pandemic. I remember with Laksh, things we so different because he spent the first two months of his life in the NICU. Tomorrow Veer will be two months old so I felt I needed to share this.

I am not sure what I feel Is #postpartumdepression or anxiety because of the current state of the world. I felt something similar when Laksh was born as well and there was no pandemic then. I felt guilt, I felt anxiety, I felt sad, I felt inadequate, I felt disgust, I felt ugly, I felt like I had failed my son. And I thought I felt all that because he was in the NICU for little over 2 months and somehow that happened because of me.

But by the grace of God, Veer has been here with us every single day of the two months  that Laksh had spent in the NiCU and our boys with be with us forever more, but I still feel these feelings. I still feel like I am not enough.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel this all the time but I do feel these feelings of inadequacy. I feel anger and frustration and irritability for small little things. I felt shame when answering the questionnaire my OB made me fill regarding #ppd becasue I didn’t want to acknowledge I felt those feelings. That me, an educated person who has her sh*t together is feeling like she is lost. 

But my question is why? Why do we feel the need to hide our mental well being from the world? Why do we feel that we would be labeled as ‘not fit mothers’ if we say we are struggling? Why do we feel shame in asking for help? 

As south Asians specially, mental health is such a stigma and never discussed openly. People throw around the word ‘ I am depressed’ without truly understanding what it means or how debilitating it truly can be. 

Today sharing about these feelings has felt like a difficult but much needed step for me but I’m doing this because I hope it helps someone feeling the same way reach out and ask for help. 

What is normal?

Dear readers,

For as long I can remember, all I wanted to do was fit in. All I wanted was to be normal. Being an overweight child, you always became the butt of the joke. I remember as a child, I would wish I would just look like the other girls so no one would joke about me. It took me most of my life to understand my body is different as I am unique. Even if I would lose all the weight, I would still not look like the other girls. I would be me, I would be different.

Once I had Laksh, and after most of the medical concerns were tackled, my biggest concern was this. Laksh is going to stand out, look different, and will that make him the butt of joke? Will that make others want to make fun of him or bully him? It might take him longer than other kids to learn things, will that make people lose patience or their faith in his abilities?

Even now, I sometimes find myself looking for that comfort of "normal", that comfort of "familiar" but then I tell myself,  God has planned a great and grand life for us and Laksh. God wants us to  help shatter the stereotypes and break the invisible box of restrictions that the society puts us in. And anyway, what is normal? Isn't that just a perception? Not long ago, unfortunately, there was a rule in India which said having homosexual relations is unnatural and not normal. But we know that is not true. One can't chose who one loves. Similarly, one can't chose what abilities one can be born with. So as normal it is to be Gay, why can't we as a society accept that it as normal to have different abilities (I am not saying being Gay is the same as having a disability but just trying to make a point). And it is okay to look different. All we need to do is always chose kindness.
I recently  watched  the movie "Wonder" (which is amazing BTW), in which the sister Via tells Auggie, that you can't blend in when you were born to stand out (I am para-phrasing). That sentence resonated with me a lot and I think isn't that something one should live by?  We should just take a minute to think, why do we want to blend in with others? Why do we want to mix in the with crowd? Why are we scared of looking different? Why are we worried that people will stare? Just remember, you were meant to be you and just be-youtifully-you. Thank you for reading.