Chasing the American dream via C-section

Thirukkural with the Times explores real-world lessons from the classic Tamil text ‘Thirukkural’. Written by Tamil poet and philosopher Thiruvalluvar, the Kural consists of 1,330 short couplets of seven words each. This text is divided into three books with teachings on virtue, wealth, and love and is considered one of the great works ever on ethics and morality. The Kural has influenced scholars and leaders across social, political, and philosophical spheres.
Motivational speaker, author and diversity champion Bharathi Bhaskar explores the masterpiece.
Indian wives who are pregnant in the US are hurrying to maternity clinics with their husbands, seeking consultations with gynaecologists about pre-term births. Why must the natural rhythm of pregnancy be interrupted with early C-sections? The answer lies in US President Donald Trump’s executive order ending birthright citizenship, effective Feb 20.
I arrived in California on the day Trump was sworn in. The immigrant communities—a tapestry of hopes and dreams—were soon gripped by anxiety as the President signed an executive order altering the very essence of their aspirations. According to the order, children born in the US before Feb 19 would remain American citizens. Those born after would lose the automatic privilege of citizenship by birth.
Legal experts argue that the executive order is unconstitutional, and lawsuits challenging its validity are already underway. Amid the legal tussle, the most vulnerable remain the unborn children, caught in the crossfire of politics and parental aspirations.
For thousands of Indians working in the US on temporary H-1B and L1 visas, this announcement struck a deeply personal chord. Many are enduring the long wait for green cards, a process that can take 15 years or more. For these families, the birth of a child on American soil had always represented a gateway to stability and security.
Doctors shared stories of frantic calls from expectant mothers, some of whom are only seven months into their pregnancies. Studies reveal that from as early as 24 weeks, a foetus can sense maternal stress, a silent dialogue that begins long before birth. Pre-term babies often face challenges like underdeveloped organs, low birth weight, and associated complications. Yet, some parents choose this precarious path to secure the coveted status of US citizenship for their child.
Is this an act of love or desperation? An expectant mother I spoke to justified her choice with conviction. “We’re not even green card holders yet,” she explained. “My first child was born here and is a citizen. If I don’t opt for an early C-section, my children might face completely different national identities. I’m doing this for the sake of parity between them.” Her words left me silent, grappling with the weight of her predicament.
In the Thirukkural, Valluvar speaks of a mother’s joy. Her happiness may surpass even the ecstasy of childbirth, if her child’s intellect is acknowledged by scholars:
Eendra pozhudhin peridhuvakkum than maganai
Chandron ena Kaetta thaai.

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Valluvar portrays a mother who celebrates the intellect of her child and the acknowledgement of the same by scholars. Time and situations have placed some parents to find greater happiness in the label of “American citizen” than in the health, intellect, and well-being of their child. What Thiruvalluvar envisioned as the highest joy of motherhood—the acknowledgment of a child’s intellect—has, in some cases, been replaced by the pursuit of a passport.
This dilemma reminds me of a story from the Mahabharata. Kadru and Vinata, daughters of Daksha Prajapati, married Rishi Kashyapa. Kadru wished for 1,000 serpent sons; Vinata desired two powerful sons. Kadru’s eggs hatched quickly, but Vinata’s remained dormant. Impatient, she cracked one prematurely, giving birth to Aruna, who was born with underdeveloped limbs. Aruna reproached her lack of patience and cursed her to become a slave to her sister, but he also advised her remission to be given by his sibling who was yet to be born. In time, Garuda was born, a divine bird, who liberated his mother from servitude.
Timeless tales resonate in different ways with our lives. A mother’s most distinguished virtue is her patience and penance. Today, these virtues are being tested in unprecedented ways as parents wrestle with the tension between securing a future for their child and honouring the natural course of life.
As I reflect on this complex reality, I wish for safe deliveries for all babies, for immigration laws that align with the dreams of parents, and for a world where the joy of parenthood is measured not by geo-political or economic considerations but by the health and happiness of every child.