Maybe it's an illusion that I think I see, or what I am sure of, and who I am not respected by, and that's what triggers my anger towards myself.
Sometimes I feel like I live in a dream globe, and all the people around me are like hiding in a bubble and full of hijab.
Not my lack of identity, but if I live blindly, never.
I neither loved the troubles, nor thought nor tried to be arrogant, and sometimes I had to suspend my responsibilities and live ...
I lived for a while, but I was deemed irresponsible and unproblematic, so I supposedly would actually understand, albeit late:
"It wasn't me."
It was the values that I looked after for a lifetime that offered me and I always wished to be valued as a result of the value I gave to people, and I saw it well and badly.
Then dignity and the desire to be loved came into play, and here I stabbed the knife and my happiness died of blood loss.
I was not a car that changed lanes, or a stock that was constantly losing value in the stock market.
It was impossible to pronounce, and mine was an inconsistent information pollution because I was going to understand it too, too late:
"A person was never and never was as respected as he loved and valued, and would not have for a lifetime."
And here was the world alarming, and I was the only one who didn't hear the siren.
Living and loving with the Layığı then the interest of the principal in the account was forbidden, and it was transferred late, every action would not have the necessary counterpart, it was a period of time for loving and valuing it was always going to be like that.
And I always thought about it all the way after work.
In fact, since the first day I took my profession, I was aware of what was going on, but I expected that God would offer me a privilege, especially how I thought of leaving my profession as a result of my accident, which I refrained from accepting, and most of all in the rehabilitation center where I was treated for a long time. I came across people.
It was my senses that always guided me and I started to whine more than I had anticipated.
I am a gynecologist and I devoted my life to birth and I am a very healthy woman, although after two unsuccessful marriages I gave up questioning the father of my child, so I devoted myself to loneliness and children, but the thought of being a mother in the back of my mind never left me until that day and here it is. the day that dreadful accident happened.
The emergency service of the hospital where I was on a sleepless watch for three days and three nights, and the births I had consecutively, but I did not feel tired, at least mentally and psychologically, but I could not ignore the rebellion in my body, but still I did not stand on much and got behind the wheel.
And while I was driving my car on the dark road, the headlights of the car that entered my eyes and I accompanied the driver's momentary carelessness by sleeping behind the wheel, who did not realize that he was coming to the opposite road. The aftermath is a complete disaster.
I do not know how many days I stayed in intensive care because the only thing I know is that the pain I felt was ending when I was willing to die for this sake and it was a miracle that I left intensive care, and the land left behind, even my life after my accident is a miracle, and my continuing life as an incomplete woman is all. While it is a occasion to thank my loved ones. However, it was very difficult for me to accept this, after all, it was impossible for me to become a mother.After this hour, I was a gynecologist in love with his profession, I pulled my hand for a long time and I had therapy for a long time as it was not possible for me to adapt to life as before. in the rehabilitation center ...
I have no bad habits, other than loving, because my love of human beings has prevailed, and this is the biggest factor in becoming a doctor.
Dear Chris…
My roommate at the clinic where I was staying and staying in the same room with him is either a quirk of fate or a game played by God and the angels if I ignore my belief, because it was my clear decision that I was sure not to continue my profession anymore after the accident. Either I would leave my profession completely or I would specialize in a branch other than obstetrics and gynecology.
Chris. A young woman who is not even a minor yet, and she is so healthy that she is so suicidal, especially after the sexual abuse she suffered by her close relative, who has tended to it a few times until she realizes that she is pregnant, of course, she wants to get rid of the baby, but this grief is because it is impossible to take the baby after an hour. He thinks that it is a Divine privilege to keep alive in it and unfortunately he comes to the point of losing his mind.
When he refused to take the medications he needed to use, his hallucinations and endless attacks were all that helped in this sense, the supposed psychological support he received, and these therapies were so effective, especially if there was no prescription in the work, and because Chris was sure that the drugs would harm the baby. We approached the clinic staff and the patients with a very aggressive attitude and somehow we fell into the same room with him and I never understood this clearly, why?
Either I was God's beloved servant, or Chris was actually both of us, after all, when I was half a woman and Chris was a wounded woman, we started getting good for each other over time.
Besides Chris, I felt very strong both as a mother and as a doctor.
Chris, on the other hand, felt like he had stopped and calmed down from the day he learned that I could never be a mother.
Occasionally he would pat my stomach and:
"I wish this baby was in your womb."
I would take his hand and say:
"Motherhood will suit you better, but ..."
We wouldn't bring more and we would hug each other, cry for hours, sometimes laugh, and we would be sick until the morning.
I was a health hard worker who was valued as much as I valued. Yes, my profession was the center of respect for me and I protected my self-esteem, and I have become a lover of myself when I have contributed to the fact that so many women become mothers.After all, I have never received much love and acceptance from my family, after all, being a child of a divorced family takes a lot from you. .
Chris was the daughter of a family that grew up in the countryside and then immigrated to England, and his only daughter, after all, his mother had miscarried many times before Chris was born, so Chris was too dear to them until what happened to him.
It is so charming that a young big girl looks more than her age, especially if you are a foreigner in England ...
Part of the story is too shady, or Chris didn't go into too much detail but everything is so clear and straightforward:
A young girl is also a family of European people, and imagine what an explanation could it be? Did it turn out that she became pregnant after this unfortunate incident ...
How much can Chris's family bear this burden, come on their shoulders, it seems that the only daughter of the house, and because they are very hurt and unable to cope, the state takes Chris and everyone is doing their best to restore his health, and I have my own problem in the middle of all this trouble. I forgot and somehow became the patroness of this young woman, or rather, after this unfortunate incident, it is true to call her a woman, of course, it is a medical woman, but while she will remain only a child, in my eyes, because that night did not continue, somehow the roles changed.
It was giving some signals that night, and as a physician, I was convinced that these signals were pre-term, and I had to enter the birth because the on-duty doctor at the clinic was sick, and here is the report of that night:
"Light, Chris, and take a deep breath. Come on, you can just want it and close your eyes and imagine yourself in your village. "
When there was nothing left to imagine, a child didn't have a tongue, I can't say, but this little girl was a medical woman, and the birth was very difficult due to the problem in her womb, and I was having an incredible difficulty because the equipment in the clinic was not very adequate, and as a result of this mischievous accident that went through me, could I think well?
Before thought, it was action, the important thing and Chris had an unceasing bleeding after all, how would he comply with the realities of life after this sensitive period he had gone through, and this is the hard truth to accept:
The baby was born too early and was too frail, and it had gnawed at his mother, and I was still crying:
"Chris, hold on girl, hold on. "Don't let go."
I could not take my pulse almost and I did everything as an experienced physician in this restricted environment, eventually the baby started to cry after my intervention, but I cannot say the same thing for his mother.
Now I was left with only one person in my room and I couldn't help but it was time for me to accept something.
Chris.
And many more: many Chris, many ongoing injustice and chain
accident: some had an accident on the highway, some were taken away by their closest relatives ...
Me?
It doesn't matter who I am anymore, especially after this time, I have a foundation that I have been tested and I know why I was sent to the earth.
I believe in the maternal instincts of all women, just as I believe in the Creator and myself to the end ...
Now I stopped driving after the seizure. Moreover, when there is someone waiting for me at home, I have to be more careful and take care of myself so that I can offer my daughter a solid future, and I am grateful to the power that healed me and I love myself more than ever, and although I am not her biological mother, little Chris is just as much under my protection as I live. I know how powerful the power that protects each of us is actually.