Infertility
I was standing in Rajalakshmi’s home in Visakhapatnam, India. She had just finished showing us each of the three rooms in her house and we had ended in the kitchen. In a moment of unrestrained curiosity I asked her, “How many children do you have?” In her broken English and in the accent that I love and miss she replied simply, “For me no children.” For some reason her words struck me deeply. “For me no children,” continued to run through my mind. A Westerner laden with modern family attitudes could have easily interpreted her answer to mean, “As for myself, I didn’t want children.” But I can tell you with certainty that that was not what she was saying. She meant, “For me, there were no children. For me, there are no children. No children came, for me.” From the look in her eyes I could feel that this was not something that was planned. I felt certain that she and her husband must have dealt with infertility. It would not have been proper in her culture to e...