The evening sun cast a warm glow through the window as I sat on the bed, gently caressing my swollen belly. My ninth month of pregnancy had brought with it anticipation and a strange mix of fear and joy. Raghav ji sat beside me, his presence always a source of comfort.
"Raghav ji, kya aapko ladki chahiye ya ladka?" I asked, my voice soft but curious. (Raghav ji, do you want a girl or a boy?)
He looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Jo tumhe kam tang kare," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. (Whoever troubles you less)
I chuckled at his response, but before I could say anything, he added, "Lekin theek hai, mujhe tumhari tarah ek ladki chahiye." (But okay, I want a girl like you.)
His words took me by surprise, and a warmth spread through my heart. My thoughts wandered back to my childhood, to the times when my parents had always wished for a boy. The elders in the village used to say that every family expects a son from their daughter-in-law. But Raghav ji... he was different.
"Raghav ji, mujhe lagta hai ki yeh ladka hoga," I said hesitantly, watching his reaction. (Raghav ji, I feel it will be a boy)
He reached out and gently placed his hand over mine. "Jaan, ladka ho ya ladki, isse koi farak nahi padta. Jab tak bachcha swasth hai, humein bas unka dhyan rakhna chahiye. Har ek bachcha anmol hota hai." (Jaan, whether it's a boy or a girl, it doesn't matter. As long as the baby is healthy, we should take care of them. Every child is precious.)
His words made my heart swell with admiration. How did I get so lucky to have a husband like him?
Just as I was about to respond, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. "Aahh... Raghav ji," I gasped, clutching my stomach. "Lagta hai samay aa gaya." (I think it's time.)
His face turned pale for a moment, but then he quickly sprang into action. "Main daima ko bulata hoon." he said, and grabbed the telephone and rushed out of the room. (I'll call the midwife. )
Within minutes, Daima arrived, her experienced hands setting up everything in the room. The pain was becoming unbearable, and I gritted my teeth, tears streaming down my face. "Raghav ji... dard bahut hai,"I whimpered . (Raghav ji... the pain is too much)
Daima looked at him sternly. "Aap yahan se chaliye, yeh mahilaon ka kaam hai." (You need to leave; this is women's work.)
But I held onto his hand tightly, refusing to let go. "Nahi, Raghav ji, mat jaiye," I pleaded. (No, Raghav ji, don't go)
He looked at Daima, then back at me. "Main yahin hoon, Arti. Main tumhare saath hoon." (I'm here, Arti. I'm with you.)
As the contractions grew stronger, Daima guided me through the process. "Zyada zor lagao, beta!", she instructed. ( Push harder, dear!)
"Aahhh... Raghav ji, mujhe nahi hoga," I cried, feeling overwhelmed. (Raghav ji, I can't do it)
"You can do it, Jaan," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Tum bohot himmat wali ho." (You're very brave.)
With one final push, I felt the weight leave my body, and a sharp cry filled the room.
"Beta hua hai!" Daima announced, holding the tiny baby in her hands. (It's a boy!)
Relief washed over me as everything went black.
___________________________________
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Raghav ji, cradling our baby in his arms. His face was glowing with happiness, his eyes misty with unshed tears.
The moment I first saw my son in his arms, it was like the entire world had stopped. His tiny fists curled around , and I felt an overwhelming rush of love, a feeling so pure and intense that words couldn't capture its depth. He was perfect - his small face, his soft skin, and the way he breathed so peacefully, all filled me with awe and gratitude.
As I looked at him, my heart swelled with emotion. This little life, this little soul, was a part of me and Raghav ji. I had never imagined what it would feel like to be a mother, and now that I was, I couldn't even begin to describe the joy that filled me.
Raghav stood beside me, his own eyes filled with tears of joy. He gently placed his hand on my shoulder, his presence a comforting warmth.
I looked down at our son again, my heart aching with love. I can't believe this is happening. My fears, my doubts - all of them seemed so far away now, lost in the glow of this new life. This was the dream I had once thought impossible, the dream of becoming a mother, and now here it was in my arms.
I held him closer, feeling his tiny heartbeat against mine. It was in this moment that I realized how much love one person could carry in their heart. How much love I could feel for this little one.
"Arti," he said softly, walking over to me. He gently placed the baby in my arms and kissed my forehead. "Thank you, jaan. Tumne mujhe duniya ka sabse bada tohfa diya hai." (Thank you, love. You've given me the greatest gift in the world.)
I held our baby close, feeling his tiny fingers curl around mine. Tears of joy streamed down my face as I looked at the little miracle we had created.
Daima smiled at me warmly. "Ab ise apne doodh ka pehla ghut pilaiye. Maa aur bachche ke liye sabse zaruri yeh hota hai." (Now give him his first feed. It's the most important thing for both mother and child.)
As I fed our baby, a sense of completeness filled me. This was the best feeling in the world. Raghav ji sat beside me, his hand on my shoulder, his love and support unwavering.
Our journey as parents had just begun, and I knew that with Raghav ji by my side, we could face anything that life had in store for us.
Raghav's pov:
The sound of soft, newborn cries filled the room, and for a moment, I felt like the world had come to a standstill. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the small bundle in the her arms. He was so tiny, so fragile, yet so perfect. My son.
I couldn't believe it. After months of waiting, of watching Aarti endure so much, of imagining what this moment might feel like - nothing could have prepared me for this. My heart swelled with emotions I couldn't put into words.
The moment I had been waiting for arrived, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Aarti holding our son for the first time. Her face lit up with a mixture of awe, love, and tears that refused to stop flowing.
I stood by her side, unable to take my eyes off the two most important people in my life. Aarti's hands trembled as she cradled our son, her gaze fixed on his tiny face.
"Mera beta..." she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. "Kitna chhota hai... kitna pyara... Raghav ji, dekhiye na..." (My son... he's so small... so precious... Raghav ji, look at him...)
I nodded, my throat too tight with emotion to speak, but I couldn't miss the sparkle in her eyes.
She leaned closer, brushing her finger softly against the baby's cheek. "Main kabhi soch bhi nahi sakti thi ki mujhe ye sukh milega... Mujhe laga tha ki main kabhi maa nahi ban paungi... Lekin aaj, ye chhoti si jaan mere haathon mein hai." (I never thought I'd experience this happiness... I believed I'd never become a mother... But today, this little life is in my hands.)
Her voice cracked as she spoke, and my heart clenched. I reached out, placing my hand gently over hers, grounding her in this moment.
"Aarti, tum jitni khush ho, main bhi utna hi khush hoon. Tumne mujhe duniya ka sabse bada tohfa diya hai," I told her softly. (Aarti, as happy as you are, I'm just as happy. You've given me the greatest gift in the world.)
She looked at me then, her tears streaming silently down her face. "Raghav ji, kya main achhi maa ban paungi? Kya main ise sambhal paungi?" (Raghav ji, will I be a good mother? Will I be able to take care of him?)
I could see the fear flickering behind her joy, the overwhelming responsibility of motherhood settling on her shoulders. I leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"Aarti, tum duniya ki sabse achhi maa banogi. Aur agar kabhi thak jao, toh main hamesha tumhare saath hoon. Hum dono milke isse sambhalenge," I assured her. (Aarti, you will be the best mother in the world. And if you ever feel tired, I will always be by your side. Together, we'll take care of him.)
She smiled through her tears, a little laugh escaping her lips. "Woh toh theek hai, lekin mujhe lagta hai tum papa ke roop mein thoda bigaad doge isse," she teased softly. (That's fine, but I feel like you'll spoil him a little as his father.)
I laughed, nodding in agreement. "Ho sakta hai. Par agar bigaad gaya, toh samjhaane ke liye uski maa toh hai na," I replied, winking at her. (Maybe. But if he does get spoiled, his mother is there to guide him, right?)
She chuckled, the sound like music to my ears. The baby stirred slightly in her arms, his tiny fingers curling around her thumb, and her expression softened further.
"Dekho, Raghav ji, woh kitna chhota hai... aur yeh ungli kaise pakdi hai... Jaise keh raha ho, 'Maa, main tumhare saath hoon.'" (Look, Raghav ji, how tiny he is... and how he's holding my finger... as if he's saying, 'Maa, I'm here with you.')
My chest tightened at her words. I leaned closer, brushing a kiss over the baby's forehead. "Aur tum dono mere saath ho, hamesha ke liye," I whispered, my voice filled with happiness (And both of you are with me, forever.)
As we sat there, the three of us together for the first time, I couldn't help but marvel at the love that filled the room. Aarti, my brave, beautiful wife, had given me the most precious gift of all-a family. And in her eyes, I saw the unshakable strength and tenderness of a mother who would do anything for her child.
The baby stirred in her arms, letting out a small yawn. Aarti's face softened, and she kissed his forehead. I couldn't help but marvel at the sight - my wife, my son, my family.
In that moment, I made a silent vow to myself. I would do everything in my power to protect them, to make them happy, to ensure that Aarti never had to worry or doubt herself again.
As I sat beside her, watching her cradle our son, I realized that life had given me the greatest gift imaginable. And I would treasure it forever.
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