The Twin Twin Affair

During my first month at Chetna Mahila Swasthya Kendra (JCMB) at Koromtanr Bokaro, I got the opportunity to witness three twin deliveries. The first two sets of twins being boys, and the last set of twins being girls. I still remember the happiness and excitement in the air while the first set of twins were born, as they were term and no complications. The second set being preterm (30weeks), both being boys and extremely LBW, with one of the boys passing away 3 days later and the other still fighting at 700g, was indeed sad.

I got the honour of being the companion of the third mother with expectant twins. We got acquainted the night before her labour and did the head engagement exercises (something I learnt after coming to CMSK, JCMB) together, sharing our interests, likes and dislikes. She was a 20-year-old primi, residing with her husband and his family as a joint family. Though she had studied till Grade 12, she did not pursue further studies and was soon married off into a joint family, like most girls here. She knew tailoring and aspired to start a shop one day. She did not enjoy her pregnancy period and hoped she would get one girl and one boy, or two boys, so she would not have to go through this whole ordeal again. After she came to know I am an MBBS doctor, she asked me to tell her the sex of her babies based on her Ultrasound report and film. When I told her I don’t know (which I did not know), and even if I did, I could not tell her legally. But she told me there are places where sex determination is being done in Bokaro ( I wasn’t surprised, as female foeticide is still rampant in this area, and sex determination could easily be done for an extra Rs 1000). I tried to divert the topic and asked her not to worry, rest, eat well, and wish for healthy babies without complications. After our extensive exercise session, she wanted to do more, and I was already tired and called it a day. As her labour pain had not increased yet, she went to sleep, and I anticipated she would deliver by the next evening/night.

At 6:45 am the next morning, I was awakened to the health care worker’s knocks on the door announcing, “Twins ke delivery ho raha hai.” I soon changed to my scrubs and freshened up, and ran to the labour room where my energetic friend was taken over entirely by the pain. The first baby was crowning. I was excited for her, held her hand, breathed, and motivated her. I wore my gloves to receive the first child. The mother was relieved as one child was delivered and had a smile on her face. It was a beautiful and healthy baby girl weighing 1.9kg. I showed her to the mother. In pain and sweat, she saw her baby and was happy, but a worry loomed on her face with flickers of hope. Without much delay, after 15 minutes, the second baby arrived, crying loudly, announcing her birth, a pink and pretty baby girl. I showed the mother the second baby, and the remaining smile disappeared. The mother and babies were healthy and doing well, but there was tension in the room. While the mother was still in the labour room, being monitored, she had already started planning her next delivery. She bombarded me with her doubts and queries. She asked since she had twins this time, wouldn’t she have twins again the next time, so if she determines the sex and if it’s one boy and one girl, will I be able to keep the boy fetus and terminate the girl fetus? 

I was shocked by her stream of thoughts and tried reasoning with her. She did not deserve this, this worry, this line of thought, what forced her to do so. I came in with my middle-class privileged logic and tried to tell her if my mother had terminated me, I wouldn’t be here; if all the nurses’ mothers thought of terminating them, they wouldn’t be there. “Now there is no difference between girls and boys.” 

She was soon shifted to the ward along with her babies. All the bystanders (even of other patients, who had no relation with the mother or her family) were naturally excited to see a set of twins, but were quick to know the sex of the babies. When they learned it was two girls, they responded with a sigh and a unanimous reply, “Oh, she struggled so much. It would have been better for one girl and one boy.” I was pretty surprised as this question or such statements never came up when the set of twins, both boys, were born.

She was going through what most women face here if they only have girl children. No one cares about the sex of the first child if it’s a girl or a boy. But if the sex of the second child is a girl (after the first being a girl), the response is similar to someone’s death. While discussing this issue, the staff informed me that this is a usual thing here. Often, mothers are seen crying if their second child is also a girl; they get taunted by their parents and in-laws, and husbands run away.

But why this response? Is having a girl or boy still the same here? What awaits this girl child? All mothers fail to embrace their daughters, maybe knowing they would have to go through the same ordeal. Even if she studies till under-graduation, she would be married off at 19-20 years, become a home-maker, not allowed to work, and cannot make the decisions regarding issues that would affect them, as the ones taken by their mother-in-law, father-in-law, or husband would be final. They only get to voice their opinion once they become a mother-in-law themselves. If any of them resist all this and wish and work for a bright and healthy future for their daughter, it would often be a lonely and challenging path.

During one of my field visits, I came across a chatty mother-in-law who boasted that I supported my daughter-in-law to complete her B.Ed even though I did not provide my daughters with education, as they would go to their in-laws, so what is the point of spending money on their education?

To get over this disappointment over the birth of the second girl child, a new tradition was started at CMSK, where the family is gifted a bright yellow bag with a big picture of a bold and cute baby girl in red announcing, “Daughters are precious.” They are given with a lot of cheer and claps creating quite a spectacle especially on OPD days. The mother is adorned with a gamcha ( an honorary shawl) and gifted beautiful dresses for the baby girl, ladoos to be distributed in the family and soap for the baby girl. These 2 minutes of celebration reassure the parents and lift their spirits, as when they go home, a different response awaits them.

This tension, gloom, disappointment, and the worry of the mother's face are seen on the birth of the second girl child in the labour room, in the ward, and are indeed a reflection of the perception and attitude of the community. Even though there are many living examples of working women, namely all the nurses of this health centre, who hail from the neighbouring villages, who care for their ageing parents and support the family physically and financially, this inequality still exists. Without securing and believing in these girls' future, capabilities, and talents, is there any point in consoling these mothers with hollow words?