This one shaped me as a mother, a leader, and as a human being.
Six months ago, just as my sons were entering Grade 10, we saw ourselves walking into the hospital for what we thought would be a long but straightforward spine surgery for one of them. Yes, “straightforward, spine surgery, we had braced ourselves for it”.
The surgery lasted nearly 14 hours, with significant blood loss—and had to be aborted , just when it was nearing completion.
The surgeon called for me and he calmly explained what had happened. They had decided to put him through a second gruelling surgery, and not pushed through- to avoid risking his life. It was a bitter- sweet- truth. I thanked the doctor for doing his best, and making the best decision he could under this situation—he humbly replied- “ Sometimes we really don’t know , if we have done our best”. He walked away, leaving me feeling sunk, breaking down, and clinging to my twin son.
When my son woke up next morning, I told him, he will have to go through yet another surgery, as the surgery had to be aborted, as his vitals were failing. Still drowsy with sedatives and pain management, he simply nodded. He and I spoke about what had happened, he stayed calm, and ready to go in again. He had no choice, and he accepted it with grace.
My son, who once ran away from even a simple blood test, had to face something far beyond what any child should. Tubes, transfusions, procedures, pain—things I had always shielded him from. Over a course of 10-12 days, he was given atleast 13-14 vials of blood and 3-4 plasma transfusions, there were several people, some of whom I don’t know personal who turned up and helped. One of them even wrote him a song, and another strum it into a tune and together they recorded a fun and inspiring song for him to listen to.
We went in again a few days later. Another gruelling surgery , albeit only 8 hours this time.Hours felt like days. Every shade of fear passed through me.
But all that truly mattered… was seeing him open his eyes again.
Seeing him smile.
Seeing him walk.
Seeing him fight.
Seeing him smile.
Seeing him walk.
Seeing him fight.
He survived. Only stronger. Less afraid.
Maybe still wondering why life was unfair, but also quietly discovering his own courage.
And I survived too, learning once again that when life puts you through hell- someone out there also gives you the energy to pass through it. When it’s all over- you look back and wonder- did you really make it through it? You feel stronger- ready to take on more battles.
I survived- keeping all balls in the air, and standing by my child, because of my family, my friends and my organization- Pernod Ricard, who refused to let me fall.
My colleagues, my HR team, and my manager who supported me without question—allowing me to be a mother first, and everything else later
People who showed up for blood, plasma, and with food, prayers—and presence.
People who held space for me when I couldn’t hold it for myself..
They could have called in with a rain check, not showed up – they could have stayed busy in their own battles. But they showed up, they rushed from their meeting, from airport, or flew in, or didn’t sleep a night, to stand by me. A lot of us- forget in our battles, that may be someone else’s battle today is tougher- I might be able to fight mine tomorrow- but someone needs me today.
In a crisis- yes, having a village standing by you- helps. Allow yourself to help, and carry this village with you . Always. Stand up for them, when they need you, without expecting anything in return.
Yes, there were a few who chose to mock my absence. I remind myself that it is the fleeting crows that make a vein of silent swans, look so beautiful. And when it truly mattered, I had my own with me—the ones who stood quietly, firmly, exactly when I needed them.