The cry for attention of a newborn fills the air and the words of Kahlil Gibran “Between what is said and not meant and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost,” ring true as one walks through the office of the Obra de Protecao a Mulher (OPM), or the Protection Home for Women in Nachinola, Goa.
Started in 1956, OPM over time has provided solace and a home for women pregnant out of wedlock and bottle-fed infants who have been abandoned from birth with the magic wand of love that Caritas of Goa has been using.
“We see tears of mothers during their pangs at birth, tears of mothers when they are giving up their newborn and tears of mothers unable to conceive and receiving a newborn,” says Sister Elcy Vembanadan, superior of the house.
“The problem starts with the way society accepts girls who get pregnant outside of marriage. It is this attitude that forces many ladies to come here and secretly go through the pangs of pregnancy and leave soon after surrendering their baby to us,” says Sister Mary Michael, one of the nuns at the centre.
Situated on the main road of Nachinola, the Protection Home for Women gives no indication of life within. With little human activity visible, the name – Protection Home for Women – written on the wall, makes it obvious that the emphasis is on protection.
“Women normally come in as soon as they are aware that they are pregnant or when they or their parents realise the man responsible is abdicating his responsibility. We are here to protect against this social stigma,” claims Sister Mary Michael, who thinks that they are God’s instruments in such times.
There are seven women in different stages of pregnancy at the centre and four infants waiting to be adopted through the Central Adoption Resource Authority (CARA).
“Though we ask the mothers to wait for a while to breastfeed their babies, most like to leave soon after birth to avoid creating a bond with the baby. Most mothers want to leave as early as possible because otherwise separation becomes difficult for them,” observes Sister Elcy Vembanadan.
There are two halls at the centre, one that houses pregnant women and the other for newborn infants. “Most pregnant women are taken to government hospitals for prenatal care, while at times parents of some women pay so that their daughter is taken to a private hospital to avoid being noticed,” discloses a worker at the centre.
“Caritas runs the centre through the donations it receives. The congregation of sisters to run the place is selected based on their field of speciality, and the idea is to serve through God,” explains Fr Maverick Fernandes, head of Caritas Goa.
Apart from the cry of infants, little sound emanates from within OPM. “The women never come out except for visits to the hospital. They do their prenatal exercises within the four walls. They are not even visited by their family,” confesses Sister Mary Michael.
Babies born out of wedlock and babies abandoned, found and brought by police, receive their first experience of family through the warmth and love of the sisters at the protection home.
“All babies are taken for all tests before CARA decides which family will foster the child. If a child has been brought by the police, the Child Welfare Committee (CWC) is informed and monitors the growth of the child,” claims Sister Elcy Vembanadan.
“Once the mother surrenders the child to us, she never sees the child again. It’s a new life with a new family. The newborns normally remain for around three to four months before they are handed over for adoption through CARA. At times, some remain till they are around six,” observes Sister Elcy Vembanadan.
“It is painful and difficult to understand the pangs of giving birth and the pain of separation soon after giving birth. We are in this situation because of the blot we have put in our own eyes. I get over this pain through prayer,” admits Sister Mary Michael.
“I have lived only for God and these girls.”
St Maria Micaela, Foundress of the Sisters Adorers
Through the pain suffered by mothers who have to abandon their child for good, of a child who can rarely feel the love of his/her mother and of the people trying to make sense of life, the heart beats to the rhythm of destiny, of goodness.
That goodness can be seen in the happy smile of eleven-year-old Sania (name changed), who despite the visible scars on her body finds a mother in Sister Elcy Vembanadan, Sister Mary Michael and the other members of the congregation of Sisters Adorers, whose fulcrum of service revolves around the words of their foundress St Maria Micaela: “I have lived only for God and these girls.”
