life or something like it

I Need Attention

2012-02-14T08:55:00.000-08:00

I don't let my mother blog...

...Or sleep, or eat, or bathe, or cry!

But, I think I do make her smile.

I Had Never Imagined...

2012-02-10T22:19:00.000-08:00

...that my days and nights can be defined by the colour, texture, consistency and frequency of someone's potty.

On second thoughts, I never realized that potty could have so many varying shades of colour, texture and consistency.

Labour Story- Get some beer, a few cushions, a lot of time and then start on this

2012-02-05T01:00:00.000-08:00

My mind has this strange habit- it obliterates bad memories and people. It’s like those moments or people just do not exist. Completely!

Suddenly I realized that the mind was in the process of of doing the same with my labour and delivery memories. Though in all honesty, labour and the delivery were still the bearable, good parts- what happened afterwards was the scary phase. Anyways my expectations of the delivery and labour were so low that perhaps that is the reason that I felt the entire process was bearable. Or maybe what happened after that in the coming month was so very intense that in retrospect, I felt the delivery was much more manageable.

I tried documenting the labour story quite a few times but could never make myself to revisit it calmly. Now after almost a month and a half, I have tried jotting down what happened. This entire piece has taken me quite a few sittings to complete. As usual do ignore typos, grammatical errors. Just love me a little more for making the effort.
On second thoughts, love me anywhichways- without a reason!

Anyways, as documented on this blog, by the 38th week of my pregnancy I was literally ready to push the baby out - anyhow. This is how it happened exactly- the time mentioned here are approximations but very really close to reality or a reality that I remember it of, as of now.

14th December

5:00 pm

Heavily bloated and irritable at answering nth query on whether the baby was out yet or not, I reach home from office and slump down on the sofa with a nice cup of tea. I pat my dog, I blog, I chat, I crib, I cry!

8:00 pm

The Husband comes back home. We slump down on the sofa with a nice cup of tea. We pat our dog, we chat- I crib, I cry.

9:00 pm

Suddenly craving for a steaming badam milk in mitti ka kulhad, we drive down to Bikanerwala. On the way I look up at the unusually clear sky and have a very strong intuition that my life is just about to change.

I say the same to the Husband and refuse to get down from the car. I tell him we are going to have a baby. He panics. I calm him saying that it is just an intuition. I ask him to run and get me Badam Milk. He runs.

Suddenly uneasy I want to go home. We have the milk while he drives us back home.

10:00 pm

We watch Big Boss. I feel uneasy. I rush to the washroom. Nothing. I just feel uneasy. We continue watching Big Boss.

12:00 am

I have a slight twitching in the stomach and my lower back hurts. I can’t sleep. Husband’s snoring. I chat with Non India Resident friends. I ask them if this is what labour feels like. They have no clue. They are men.

1:00 am

I chat with R- based in India yet awake since she is a mommy. I ask her if this is what labour feels like. By now the pain is almost 15 minutes apart and has increased a little. She confidently confirms that it is labour. She asks me to call the doctor immediately.

2:00 am

Feeling guilty at waking up the Doctor at such an ungodly hour or even the Husband, I message the Husband sleeping next to me, mentioning and recording the contractions.

3:00 am

R insists that I wake up the Husband NOW. The pain feels like cramps but is still bearable. I go for a shower. The pain intensifies. I barely make it out of the washroom.

4:00 am

I wake up the Husband. He panics. He asks what should he do? He takes out the Hospital bags. He fetches the car keys. He gets me a cold glass of milk. He asks me again on what should he do? I give him an angry stare. He shuts up.
We call the Doctor.

5:00 am

The Doctor asks to come to the Hospital immediately. I am scared. I say, the pain is still bearable- can we stay at home for another hour. She says, no!

5:30 am

Husband goes down with the bags. I walk. My dog is confused. When the Husband comes to fetch me, I am in the middle of a contraction. I am hugging a chair. My dog is hugging me.

We walk out. I turn back- hug my dog once again.

6:00 am

We stop a few times to get over contractions as we make it to the car. By the time we are about to reach the car the pain is so intense that I cannot manage to walk the last few steps. Husband carries me in his arms.

6:15 am

We drive off- the last ride of our life as a couple and not parents. I look outside at the cold and grey winter morning. There are a few people out for their walk. They do not know that our life is just about to change. They keep walking. We keep driving.

6:20 am

The radio plays, ‘Aane waala pal jaane waala hai..’ I smile- I look at the Husband. Throughout the way, we do not talk. During my next contraction, the Husband holds my hand while still driving.

6:30 am

We reach the Hospital. I walk over to the reception. Husband goes to park the car. By then during a contraction, I can barely speak. Husband panics when he sees me. He runs to the reception- asks on where the hell is the labour room. The corridors are deserted at such an early hour. He runs back to me to check on me. He gets an attendant. We walk over to the lift and then check in to the labour room.

6: 40 am

Our friends come over to the Hospital. Husband calms down. I am strapped to the bed and prepped up for delivery. The doctor comes over. She confirms that I am in actual labour and I should deliver by evening.

I panic.

8:00 am

The contractions are intense. I am unable to get through them while strapped to the bed. While the pain hits me, I need to walk to be able to get over it. I ask the nurse to unhook me. She refuses.

R still on chat says that I should DEMAND to be unhooked. No one can forcibly strap me to a bed while I am in labour. This time, I DEMAND to be unhooked. The nurse relents.

The next contraction hits me immediately. Husband walks with me. The friends maintain a stoic silence during a contraction- we gossip and laugh once it gets over. At that point I feel so much in control. I feel I can do this easily. I have the stamina and the will power. This is still managea…b….l… e.

The pain hits me. I grit my teeth. I cry- a little. Not wanting the friends to see that I am crying, I quickly and quietly wash off the single tear that is trickling down my chin.

10:00 am

The friends leave to come back in a few hours- they need to wrap up work, to get some prints of a few of my tests that had happened earlier.

Husband and I walk through the contractions. I take a breather in between and admire the view through an entire wall of glass. The life outside seems as before. There were people driving to work, there was still some mist, there was still the same sun struggling through the fog. But nothing in my life would perhaps ever be the same.

11:00 am

We are asked to go for an ultrasound before the delivery. I am wheeled down to the room. We meet the Ultrasound Doctor. Let’s call him- F’king Piece Of Shit. Now, this FPOS asks me on why am I there. Me, who is in the middle of a contraction is gritting my teeth. He ignores the Husband standing next to me and asks me again, ”So, Minal why are you here?’ The Husband tells him that I am in labour. He again ignores the Husband and asks me on why am I there. Me, who is again in the middle of a contraction by then, grit my teeth, hold on to the sides of the bed tightly and manage to whisper, “I am in labour. I am about to have a baby.”

He straps the machine to my stomach and mutters almost to himself, “Exactly- this should have had happened earlier.”

I tell him I was supposed to have my last scan today but I got into labour last night. He peers at his screen and looks at some complicated charts and then asks the Husband on when was the last scan done. I tell him, 34th week.

He looks at me lying on the bed and says, “ Minal your baby has not developed beyond 34th week. I am sorry to say but there is no growth.” I am in so much pain that I do not understand what is he saying. I look at the Husband. He does not understand either. He gives him a blank look. The FPOS repeats his statement. Husband manages to mutter, “Is everything well?” The FPOS repeats his statement exactly the same way- again. Husband manages to mutter again, “Is everything well?”

I ask the Husband to call my Doctor. The FPOS is by then showing the Husband some complicated charts on screen, examples of some other babies and scans that he had done earlier.

I ask the Husband to leave and to just carry the report. I am wheeled out again. We meet each other’s eyes while in the lift. I can’t feel anything- emotionally, I am blank. Once I reach the room, we call the Doctor. She asks me to calm down and says it seems like a mistake. She has been monitoring me throughout- it doesn’t seem likely.

12:00 am

The pain is unbearable. I am crying openly. There are no breaks in between contractions. I plead the Husband to lets go for a Caesarean delivery. I ask him to call my Doctor. He holds me tightly and peers at the screen which monitors the intensity of the contractions. He sees it increasing and knows that I am just not able to take it anymore. He runs for the Doctor.

The Doctor confirms that I am 5 cms dilated. Mid way through! She asks if I would want to go for an Epidural. I nod my head. A few more people are called in the room. The epidural doctor comes over to me and tells me that she needs to warn me about a few things before they insert the needle in my spine.

For the benefit of those who might not be aware of what an epidural is- it is a life savior. It is a blessing. It is an amazingly beautiful invention. It is some liquid that is passed on to your body by inserting a needle in your spine. Trust me, by then the pain is so very intense that if they would have had wanted to insert 100 needles in my spine saying that that would lessen my pain, I would have had agreed. But that miraculous invention just reduces the pain by about 70 percent. Trust me, at that moment even that promise is worth the needle insertion. Hell, worth insertion of 100’s of needles.

Now, this miraculous invention also has a lot of side affects like shivering, fever, days of continous head ache etc. and before they administer the drug they need to warn the patient and that is what the Epidural Doctor was trying to do. But, I was in no condition to hear. I just screamed at her, “Just go ahead.”

The Husband screamed, “ Just do it.”

She calmly looked at me and continued, “I need to tell the patient. She should be aware of the side effects.” And she continued with her monotone. I just managed to hear her last part, “So, are you fine with it?”

I think I screamed, “ Yes. Yes. Yes. ”

12:30 pm

I am singing. I am really singing and telling the Husband I would want to kiss the person who has invented the epidural. The room is empty again. Husband is sitting on the ledge next to the huge wall of glass. Sun light is streaming in. He is working on his laptop- bathed in the warm light.

I look at him- I feel love. For him. For us.

I sleep.

1:15 pm

I am woken up by a commotion in the room. The moment I open my eyes I see the Husband with a confused look on his face. There are too many people around me. There is too much noise. There is some Doctor screaming at a nurse to wheel me in to the operation room. I hear someone saying, “Put oxygen on her. Check the pulse.”

The next thing that I remember is the huge length of the hospital corridor. I remember the look in the Husband’s eyes. I see him standing right under the white light of the Hospital corridor with a book in hand. I remember meeting his brown eyes over the huge length of the Hospital corridor while I am being wheeled in. He looks like a lost child. There are too many people around me but I can see only one. Only him! The rest are just at the periphery. Somehow hazy- very hazy. I can just not focus on them despite trying.

This room is smaller, more crowded. I ask for my Doctor. She has not come in as yet. I turn towards my right and see the Husband behind a curtain- he meets my eyes and mouths, “Don’t worry. She is on her way.”

The new unknown Doctor is saying, “She is completely dilated. We need to push.” She asks me to push. I tell her I want my Doctor- I can’t feel anything.

Then I hear the voice of my doctor, the one who has taken me through my entire pregnancy. I hear her calm voice asking me to push- I still can't feel anything. She is asking me to calm down, to be with her. I try. I try coming back to the present. I try waking up. I try concentrating. I look at the Husband on my right and I push. I push with all my energies. And now I feel it- I feel the pain. I can feel the head and a searing, tearing pain. The Doctor is calmly talking me through. Though there are too many people around but she is addressing me. She tells me that we are trying to use vaccum to get the baby’s head out as he’s stuck. I nod. She asks me to push- She asks me to not lose faith. She tells me I am doing a good job. I try. But I can just feel the pain. I try getting up a little and I see blood all around. I can see my feet and my white socks soaked in blood. I lie back and I push. With each contraction, there are nurses around me holding my hands down, who are helping me calm down.

I can hear all the talking in the room. The unknown doctor is asking to do a caesarean. There is something on the pulse dropping again. My doctor asks for forceps. I hear her calm voice again saying, “One last attempt. I would try with forceps.”

This hurts. There are too many people around me- all of them almost crying in a fanatic monotone and asking me to push. My Doctor tells me we are almost there. She assures me again that I am doing a very good job- just to hang on a little while longer. There is a nurse on top of me now. Her expert hands are moving across my stomach- it actually feels relieving. I see the Husband walking out. I zone in my energies- one last time.

I push.

1:42 pm

And I hear the crying. Some more commotion but I cannot make out anything that is being said. I see the Cockroach being dangled in front of my eyes. Someone is holding him by his legs. I can’t see the someone holding him but I try and focus on the dangling child. I am told that I have a son. I try asking, “Is everything alright?” I can’t speak.

I am crying silently. I have tears streaming down my eyes. I just can’t stop them. I look towards my left where the placenta is being stored and packed for transfer.

I am shivering. I am feeling very, very cold. I try catching the eyes of my doctor who along with quite a few people whom I do not recognize is stitching me up.

I try telling her that I am cold. I can’t speak. I am shivering. The Doctor senses it. She asks the nurse to get me something warm. I close my eyes. I can hear them talk- each and every word. There is some discussion on the extent of tear. There is a senior doctor who is being called for. There is this senior Doctor who comes in and confirms that it is going the right way. I try opening my eyes and registering her face- I still cannot focus but I can hear. I again close my eyes. I hear someone asking the Doctor that am I sleeping? I hear her almost smiling and asking me, “Minal how can you sleep through this?” I try telling her- I am not. But I can still not form words. I am still shivering. I feel the cold right till my bones. The stitching, the discussions, the people coming in and going carries on for quite some time. I look around for the Husband but I don’t see him. Then I remember asking him to promise that he would be with the Cockroach as soon as he/she is born. To be with him/ her till the Hospital tags him/her. I had an inherent fear of someone tagging and giving me the wrong baby. All babies look similar. How would they know? I feel relieved that the Husband is with the Cockroach.

The Doctor finally confirms that they are through. She congratulates me- tells me I was very, very brave and says she would see me soon. She leaves.

The nurses remove my blanket. They take off my blood soaked socks. She asks me on should she throw it away. I say, no! I am quite sentimental that ways.

(PS: I DID throw away the dried- blood- soaked- stiff socks. I am sentimental but not gross)

I am asked to roll over to a bed right adjacent to the one on which the delivery had happened. I try moving. I can’t feel my lower half of the body. I just can’t move. The nurses try helping me. I am midway between the two when I feel so very light.

I suddenly feel no pain- absolutely no pain.

I see the Husband running towards me with Zero. I see the greenery around. I feel the grass beneath my feet. I feel the wind. I watch Zero running towards me. His hair blowing in the wind. He is running like a lion. He has now reached me. He is jumping all over me. He is licking me. His hair is getting in my nose. I push him. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I am struggling to breathe- his hair is in my nose, in my lungs. I gasp for breath.

Suddenly I feel the pain. Searing, tearing pain. I hear commotion around me. I hear someone calling my name. I feel someone slapping me across my cheeks. I feel some one putting a mask on my face. I remove it. I hear someone asking me, are you fine?

I hear myself speak, “yes!”

3:00 pm

I am wheeled back to the labour room. I see the Husband standing there- we look at each other. I cry!

After settling me down everyone leaves and then the Cockroach is wheeled in in a small breakfast table kind of a rolling piece of furniture. He is just so tiny. He is wrapped up completely. I can just see his face. The smiling nurse hands him over to me and says, “ bahut mushkil se aaya hai aapka yeh beta.”

I don’t know how to hold him. He is just so tiny. I move my fingers across his face. He is just so soft. I move my hands over a tag saying, “Boy of Mrs. Minal Srivastava”

I whisper, “Welcome boy of Mrs Minal Srivastava” and look over at the Husband who still looks dazed. We meet each other’s eyes. We connect like we have perhaps never ever connected in the past decade and more that we have known each other.

We stand like that for what seemed like ages.

It suddenly dawns on me, we were now a family, like for- forever!

My Name Is Sheila, Sheila Ki Jawani

2012-02-04T05:24:00.000-08:00

...just kidding. Though I never really understood what Sheila meant by this. Her name is Sheila or Sheila ki Jawani? Pl enlighten.

Anyways, unlike Beti B, we do have a name.

> It is: Aahaan- The beginning.

> The name is Aahaan which means- the beginning.

> It is not to be read as Aahaan- The beginning. That sounds like a B grade Bollywood production.

> Though he is my greatest production as on date.

> Not that I have produced very many things or ...beings as of now. But I have definitely produced him.

> I have grown him in my tummy and then split open my body in two to give birth to him and now would be feeding him for the very many months to come.

Biology, I tell you- is weird!

Me and Mine

2012-02-01T21:59:00.000-08:00

Have

Healed

Sick Of Being Sick. I Want Home Now

2012-01-06T05:51:00.000-08:00

Last that I saw my baby he had bald patches on his head. Husband conveyed that now he has a head full of hair. When I refused to believe him , he showed him on Skype. He was not lying. By the time I reach home I expect him to be potty trained.

Update

2012-01-03T21:05:00.000-08:00

I am back at the hospital but this time without my baby. It seems hard to believe the way my battered body craves for someone whom have known and had for less than twenty days.

One Step At A Time

2011-12-30T02:18:00.000-08:00

I accept- Motherhood is tough!

Much, much tougher than what I had anticipated. Actually, I was so occupied with the pregnancy and then worried about the actual delivery that I had not read or prepared myself enough for the aftermath. I had assumed that once I deliver, my body would automatically get back in shape. Obviously I would have a baby to take care of which should not be all that difficult, considering that a new born’s needs ranges from cleaning him up to feeding him. I was treating the entire exercise like an examination and the format suited me; something that I was used to. There was something that you need to prepare for, go through it and then get an award, appreciation, appraisal, promotion at the end of it. I knew how to achieve this. I was a pro at it. I had been doing this for the past three decades now.

So, you read and exercise diligently, prepare yourself mentally for nine whole months, have a normal delivery and get a healthy baby as an award and appreciation at the end of the entire exercise. My thought process did not go beyond that. Beyond that life should be a happily-ever-after is what I had assumed.

Obviously I was highly mistaken. Despite having a normal delivery of which I need to share it here before I start forgetting the details, my body is not what it used to be. Every muscle, every movement is an effort and it HURTS- like all the time.

I had some complications during the delivery and which are being tackled right now and the doctor says that I need patience and will power which I thought I had in abundance till around last week.

Immediately after the delivery, high on the mother hood and compulsive-control-freak syndrome, I had started on getting my life back on track. The doctor had asked me to walk- despite the pain. And walk I did. The first few days when I could barely put my foot down without crying out in pain, the Husband literally lifted me off the bed and we took one step at a time- slowly. We walked the entire length of the hospital corridor hand in hand. In that sanitised posh hospital environment we met other parents and happy, smiling nurses who frequently congratulated on the delivery. We debated on names and laughed over inane stuff and we took a step- gradually.

High on pain-killers hospital was a controlled environment. With a steady support of friends around who got food, fun, laughter and games – I drifted in and out of sleep while the group rallied around me and played taboo and gossiped and laughed. I was handed over the baby intermittently. If he cried I just needed to press a button and a genie like smiling nurse appeared who it seemed knew what was wrong immediately. She cleaned, fed the baby and handed over a sleeping, sweet smelling, neatly packaged bundle of joy. My diet was controlled, my medicines were handed over on time and with complete recovery just round the corner, we thought life is now just so perfect.

Then, we came home. By then I had a full house at home. Suddenly everything turned topsy-turvy. I was on reduced pain medication and with a fourth degree tear due to a failed vaccum and then forceps delivery I could again barely walk or breathe or talk. To add on to the chaos, now I did not have the genie like button to make that ever efficient nurse appear from nowhere. When the baby cried, I was the one responsible. I was now the mommy. But on a lot of nights- I did not know what was I doing. The baby cried – all through the night. With huge blood loss during delivery, my body was already quite weak. Yet, I struggled. I had cleared so many exams in life- this can’t be that difficult. I have the will power. I can ace it – is what I kept telling myself repetitively- till last week.

Last week I had an added complication when I started bleeding heavily and suddenly. After staying awake for nights together and barely having the time in the day to maintain a proper diet and medicine regimen, I was irritable and cranky. Baby perhaps still connected to me also sensed the same and was also irritable and cranky. That one night after hours of the same exercise- I gave up completely. I was training the Husband on how to change a diaper and preparing a formula feed for the baby which he could feed while I slept since I felt I just could not manage to make myself move anymore. We were scheduled to have an ultrasound to figure out what’s wrong with me the next morning. Just then the baby got up and I saw the Husband struggling to manage him. Despite the searing pain that each movement of any muscle led to, I took the baby over from him and sobbed and soaked him with my tears while I rocked him to sleep. The Husband engulfed me in his arms and I kept crying and repeating that I need to get well soon- I cried and sobbed, ‘There is no one who can take care of my baby even for a night. What would happen to him if something happens to me? Please make me better. Please make this pain go away. I have no back up. My baby needs me.’

We stayed like that for what seemed like hours. Soaked in each other’s tears we finally slept intertwined to each other. That night I realized that I would never ever have a back up. No mother ever has a back up. You just need to brush yourself up, push yourself a little more and tackle each day- one step at a time.

That is exactly what we are doing as we get to know each other as a family- taking one step at a time!

What I Would Never Take For Granted

2011-12-26T06:31:00.000-08:00

.........stepping out of the house without another living being attached as an appendage to my body!

Yesterday we stepped out for an hour to a friend's place. I was looking at the world outside with such wonder in my eyes that I thought I saw the Husband shed a tear or two at my state of glee.

I thanked the Husband profusely for making me meet people who can walk, talk in a language that I understood and who poop and pee at a frequency which is more than 15 minutes at a stretch and yes...... they can also clean their butts themselves!

I Have Interesting Company Around Me

2011-12-21T20:24:00.000-08:00

My brother R on seeing me swaddle and then carry the baby out of the hospital when we checked out says,'why are you carrying him like this?'

'Like what?'

'Like in your arms- aren't they going to hand him over to us in a basket or something with a ribbon- similar to how we got Zero home?'

......................

My friend R on chat messages me,'Where's Doggie?'

She calls the Husband doggie. They share extremely cordial relationship.

'He's feeding the baby.' is what I message her.

'To whom?' is her panicked reply. She has immense faith on my Husband's capabilities.

Favourite Parenthood Moment

2011-12-20T20:16:00.000-08:00

"I have a song for you" says the Husband when he sees me stir from my barely half an hour of sleep.

He Who Has No Name Yet has been keeping me awake nights and days. Tired and bleary eyed after third such consecutive night, I looked over at the Husband who was cradling and feeding He Who Shall Have A Name Soon. The Husband had been handed over the baton by me around early in the morning when I had run out of patience, strength and last dregs of hope.

Before I could react to his song dedication, he starts singing while cradling and moving the Cockroach in what can be called close to a rythmic movement-

"Subah hone na de
Saath khone na de
Ek doosre ko hum sone na de
Tu mera hero
O O O- Cockroach tu mera hero!"

For those of you who would have had not heard the song- here it is in a contexually different format.
Wondering how anyone can twist their body in such different positions- don't they have a child in their belly? I have still not been able to shake off that child-in-the-belly feeling. Once I manage to find the time would be posting the labour story- stay tuned.
His Highness calls me again- back at his service.

Here I Am

2011-12-19T20:32:00.000-08:00

Update

2011-12-14T14:49:00.000-08:00

We are off to the Hospital. It might in all probability be a false alarm since am sure I would not be able to blog while in active labour but there is pain and I am not able to walk or sleep or talk while it hits me and the Doctor definitley does not want to take any chances.

So, there is a slight possibility that I might just have my baby ...like today!

OMG

Wondering

2011-12-14T10:38:00.000-08:00

If this pain in the lower back along with frequent cramps and twitching in the stomach is what labour pain feels like.

If yes,

Then it is quite cool. This is manageable. This is what I can live through.

If not,

Then it sucks hugely. Since, not only am I not in labour and would be probably bearing the brunt of it later- I get to experience some additional pains and probably night long discomfort which after 38 weeks of all that I have gone through IS SO NOT NEEDED.

The First Born

2011-12-14T05:32:00.000-08:00

Zero - it seems realizes that something is about to change.

Currently as a two year old dog, he is technically a teenager and behaves like one. Like:

- He would ignore the two of us royally through the day.

- He would want to sleep in separately and not in the same room as us.

-Once dragged in our room, he would sulk and eventually sleep in the farthest corner of

the room- away from us.

- While he would not show any sign of recognition to us, the moment any stranger comes in he would jump and lick him and smother him with so much love, as if he was begging the stranger to take him away to a far away land of magic and love - far, far away from us.

- He would not eat what we offer him as food. He would look disdainfully at it and then walk off haughtily as if saying that this form of cooking completely repulses him.

But, lately I have seen a sudden shift in his attitude towards me. He is as cold and manimulative towards the Husband as before.

- He has suddenly become quite clingy towards me yet again- the way he was when he was a cute little cuddly ball of fur.

- If I am home, he would be around me all the time. Right now as I type this, he sleeps over my foot

- He is more gentle towards me. He rarely jumps on me. He frequently licks me though.

- He would frequently come over to me and sit quietly- just staring at me like in the picture above.

Whenever he does that, I feel like hugging him close and whispering to him, ' Don't worry, you would always be my first-born- the one I bore within my heart and not the tummy! '

No, Not Yet

2011-12-14T04:48:00.000-08:00

1) No- I don't have my baby in my arms as yet. In fact, as I type this it kicks the laptop lying precariously on the bulging tummy that houses it.

2) Also, it seems 'No' has become my favourite word. Considering the amount of calls that I am getting which start with- 'is the baby out yet?'

3) Considering a lot of women deliver by now which is the 38th week of pregnancy- I feel I am being a little incompetent.

4) Also, I have been told that the extra days that the baby stays inside is an added bonanza not only for the baby but also for me since I get those extra days when I would be able to brush my teeth, wash my hair, go for a walk, eat, listen to music, read. Basically, live!

5) Husband feels this entire pregnancy and child birth and then child rearing thing is like a well oiled video game- each stage gets more difficult than the last. He hopes there is a prize at the end of it though.
My Husband is a dreamer.

6) Also, why am I writing in bullet points? Is that what you want to ask? Well, first you house a living being for 38 weeks and wait every waking second for it to split your body into two and then while waiting, try writing in a few coherent sentences and then you ask me that question again.
I might then choose to oblige you with an answer.

And Yes, I HAVE Lost My Mind

2011-12-02T13:43:00.000-08:00

It’s way past three in the morning and I am applying nail polish.

Before any one of you can utter- WTF! Have you lost your mind? - read through what all I have been doing tonight.

1) We see-off a few friends who had come over for dinner. We drag Zero back home, change and get ready for a good-night’s sleep.

2) Zero and the Husband start snoring immediately.

3) I lie on my left and feel the entire stomach slide towards the left, the rib cage reaches my throat, my back hurts, I can’t breathe- I try turning on my right.

4) While turning my back feels like snapping in two.

5) The Husband engulfs me in his arms, I pat his dimpled cheeks.

6) I now lie on my right and in sometime feel the entire stomach slide towards the right, the rib cage reaches my throat, my back hurts, I can’t breathe- I try lying straight on my back.

7) While turning my back feels like snapping in two.

8) I now lie straight on my back. The stomach does not move but in sometime my back feels like snapping into two, rib cage reaches my throat and I can’t breathe.

9) I watch the snoring Husband. I am engulfed by a sudden maddening rage. I whack him. He sleepily turns away from me and starts snoring again.

10) I get up and walk and almost trip over the snoring dog. I am engulfed by a sudden maddening rage. I kick him. He turns away from me and starts snoring again.

11) I walk over to the fridge- get a huge piece of Cheese Cake and eat it while I count and try figuring out who snores more- the Dog or the Husband.

12) I come back to bed.

13) Repeat 3 to 7.

14) I get up. I pray. I walk. I cry.

15) I walk over to the fridge and get some mishti dahi and eat it while I count and reach the conclusion that the Dog definitely snores more than the Husband.

16) I come back to bed.

17) Repeat 3 to 7

18) I get up. I pray. I walk. I cry.

19) ..........

20) ....

21) I start applying nail polish.

Husbands Should Have Nine Lives

2011-12-01T20:33:00.000-08:00

Today I woke up to a freshly bathed, heavenly smelling and merrily humming Husband who was just about to step out to get the booking for the delivery done in the Hospital.
On seeing me awake he happily chirped,' Happy Anniversary Wifey. Where's my gift?'

Extremely tired and groggy eyed after merely a few hours of sleep, night after night, I pointed at my huge, bulging tummy and replied irritatedly,'This, the one who has been incubating in my body for nine months and MORE and is just about to come out any moment now by splitting my body in two is my gift to you. Dare you ask for anything else.'

'If that is so, then why the hell am I supposed to pay cash on delivery?' he asks cheekily.

A Pile Of Fun

2011-12-01T13:18:00.000-08:00

The last few days of pregnancy has made mobility a huge issue and it is definitely not just due to the extra weight that I have around my tummy but also due to the fact that at any given point in time I need to be around a loo. With the need to pee every few minutes, we have cut short on our day long trips instead we have been partying at home, ours and of friends- a lot.

We have also taken to board games with a vengeance and have been playing ludo, saap seedhi, puzzles and the most favourite one of the lot- taboo!

In taboo you form teams with two members in each. Then you take out a card which has a word that you need to make your team member guess but without using a huge list of words that are mentioned on the same card.

In one of the recent games the word that Husband had to make his teammate guess was ‘Wisdom’. He started by saying that, ‘old people have a lot of this....’

Without wasting a second, his team member replies- ‘Piles?’

A Piece Of Advice

2011-12-01T12:56:00.000-08:00

Next time you read or hear sentences like how ‘Pregnancy is the most magical moment in a woman’s life.’

~ Do Not Believe Them. They Are Liars.

Also, next time anyone does tell you that the last few weeks of pregnancy are the most difficult, go hug them- a little tightly because in all probability they speak from experience (unless they are men!) and anyone who can survive weeks when one can barely move, eat, sleep or breathe needs a hug- a good, strong hug!

No touching.No touching! Only seeing. Only seeing!

2011-12-01T04:55:00.000-08:00

Pregnant Pause

2011-12-01T04:44:00.000-08:00

Yesterday while at work, my feet suddenly swelled so much that I was unable to fit into the flats that I had worn to work in the morning. I along with a colleague then walked over to the mall and picked up a pair of extremely comfortable bathroom slippers.

On reaching office, I removed the flats which were biting into my swollen feet and with a huge sigh of relief slipped on the bathroom slippers. My non-pregnant colleagues looked at me in horror and asked if I was sure this is what I would want to wear in office through the day.

I looked at them with a straight face and replied, “The moment you get pregnant, you not only lose your mind, control over your bladder, life and body but along with all this, the one thing that you might miss losing the most is perhaps- dignity!”

Blue Or Pink?

2011-11-27T11:47:00.000-08:00

There is some blue.

And then some pink.

Blue

Pink.

A few of my favourite things from the Hospital bags that I have been struggling to put together for myself and the Coackroach.

My Dog Is A Thinker

2011-11-24T06:27:00.000-08:00

Almost There

2011-11-23T06:33:00.000-08:00

Inside Zero's Head

2011-11-23T06:31:00.000-08:00

I hate pararazzi. Save me.

It's An Interesting Marriage...

2011-11-21T07:00:00.000-08:00

...When the wife can call up the Husband and scream excitedly, " Listen have you left office? Come back soon.

Today Sunny is coming.

Sunny- the porn star!

She is coming on Big Boss today."

Inside Zero's Head

2011-11-19T11:16:00.000-08:00

Can you repeat what you just said Mad Woman?

Get Down?

You mean down from this bed? This bed is not meant for me?

But aren't we family?

That is what I had been made to believe by the two of you since I was born or since I can remember.

Why are you still screaming Mad Woman?

I am asking a very relevant question- Was I adopted?

Why do I get the feeling that I was adopted?

I am going.

Not only down from this bed but out of this room too and your home..... if you can just open the door for me.

Bye.

Prediction Predicament

2011-11-16T18:48:00.000-08:00

A colleague: " I had told you Aishwarya would have a girl. She was glowing. When you are carrying a girl you turn prettier and your skin glows from within.
You are going to have a boy."

Me: "Is that a polite way to tell me that I am looking ugly, dull and bloated?"

To the mother of the would-be mother

2011-11-15T06:11:00.000-08:00

My mother is unwell. She is in the hospital. The night that she was admitted to the Hospital is the night when I had high fever. During pregnancy you are not allowed to take any strong medication and high fever can affect the baby’s heart beat- so, I battled the fever with minor medicines and cold towels to keep the temperature under check. All through the night I first shivered, then had fever which is when I would drift off into dreams and would get up sweating heavily once the fever subsided. All through the night I cradled my stomach to assure myself that the heartbeat and the movements within my tummy continued as before and are not affected by my fever. While I was connected with the life within my body through my umbilical cord, that night, I in my fever induced state connected with her- the one who had cut mine long ago but was somehow connected to my soul.

I have had a tumultuous relationship with my mother. We graduated from years of uncomfortable silence between us, to a wordless shared empathy and finally settled down to a silent, comfortable and effortless understanding. That night too I somehow felt all her pain right till my pores. I sensed her loneliness, her resistance to being dependent and her final surrender to the surging infection in her body. It felt as if I was still somehow connected to her with that umbilical cord.

During the first few months of my pregnancy when I was going through pre-delivery depression- I wished to die. Today when I am out of that darkness, I realize how I would want to live for forever. I would HAVE to live for forever. This life that is right now breathing within me, it might eventually be surrounded by people who love him/her but no one but me would ever share this bond with him/ her. No one but me would ever be able to understand it the way I do. In all probability it might also shun me from it’s life in a few years and no one but me would have the patience to wait on the fringes of it’s life with my heart in my mouth and a prayer for it to come back to me. No one but me has shared the same blood, the same air the same pains for nine whole months. No one but me would feel the pain that it would feel when it is forced- pushed out into the world and it takes it’s first breath.

He/ She would eventually form new bonds and relationships- it would love, fall, get hurt, brush up and walk again. I would have to be there for him/ her- initially cushioning her/his each fall and later watch and pray for it as it etches it’s own identity in this world.

Yes, I would have to live forever. Wish I could live forever.

When God made woman capable to bear children, He made her strong enough to survive the pregnancy, made her resilient enough to willingly ask and welcome the indescribable labour pain and let her body split in two so that she could give birth and let a part of her soul and heart out of her body and see it grow into a separate entity.

What it should have had done instead was also to make all mothers immortal because no one but her can ever love you as selflessly. No one but her can sacrifice her life willingly for you.

We all need our mothers....like forever because that was the one and the only bond that was formed even before we were born!

Favourite Pregnant Moment

2011-11-11T06:23:00.000-08:00

Expecting a few cousins over dinner, I cook and dance with Zero to this song

Just then The Husband comes over from work, opens the door and it's a mad chaos of hands, legs and a tail jumping all over him to get his attention. As he tries to disentangle himself from Zero and me, I dance for him along with the huge belly and make faces at -"Surat hi maine aisi paayee".

And then Zero puts his front two paws on Husband's shoulders and the four of us break into an impromptu mad jig on

" jab meraa yeh tan lachke, jaye naa koyee bachke
koyee bachke, bachke bachke, han han jee bachke"

Beg, Borrow, Steal- We Have Taught Our Dog The Right Values

2011-11-07T04:57:00.000-08:00

Zero begging for a piece of my Birthday Cake

Maybe I AM a Bitch

2011-11-04T23:42:00.000-07:00

An apparently tired male colleague slumps onto the chair in front of me and laments, " Wish I was going on a Pregnancy Leave- I am so sick of this office. I need a break!"

I shifted my heavy bulk towards him, looked over him and intoned, "Really? So for starters why don't you first let go of your cigarettes, alcohol, coffee, coke for nine whole months. Also while you are at it get yourself injected with an overdose of some complicated hormones which would start playing havoc with your mind immediately - for nine whole months, or maybe more. That should make you cry for a few months like really sob and cry your heart out for a few months. Then gain weight. Overnight let all conceivable parts of your body grow. Yes- all except the bladder so that you would spend more than half your time running towards the washroom for nine whole months. Also, add on to your experience list night after night of sleeplessness while your entire body hurts, your heart burns and feet swell like a piece of brick.

Did I mention the puking? Add on a little of puking for a few months- try practicing throwing up whatever you eat for a few months and get sensitive to not just food smells but any bloody smell around you. And why don't you tie a pillow stuffed with a few kgs of brick around your tummy and practice walking and living like that every second of the day for a few months. And if for days on end you feel like crying after bearing all this then try fretting every second of the day and night over the fact that your mood swings and loss of appetite might just be harming that brick that you have tied around your waist. Feel incompetent, miserable and sick for a few months.

Then, and only then if you survive these few months is when you take a few weeks off from work to push a living, breathing body out of your crotch. Then while you are on your cherished break from work, you should try practicing living with an appendage attached to your body sucking you, every half an hour. Also get used to cleaning shit and somebody's bum, every half an hour.

I so wish your wish comes true and you get a break from work F*****R. Oh yes, and you do know the rules- you start off with the F***ING!

So go- start!"

I Have A Wise Husband

2011-11-04T07:20:00.000-07:00

We were about to step out for dinner to a friend's place. Husband was picking me up and waiting for me in our apartment's corridor. Running really low on energy lately, I had no inclination to try innumerable outfits so had picked up the most comfortable of the lot- Dungarees with a pair of yellow shoes.

Husband is not too fond of my Dungarees and seeing me walking towards him dressed in that, he was about to open his mouth is when I interrupted him and said-"Before I reply to whatever you are about to say, just remember that I am not a bitch- I am just hugely, freakishly, annoyingly pregnant."

Husband chose not to comment.

Third Trimester Is When You Realize...

2011-11-03T12:52:00.000-07:00

....how ungrateful is The One whom you have rented your womb for nine months.

I have wheatish complexion.

While growing up I was always jealous of the milky white Punjabi- Kashmiri complexion of a few girls around me. The main reason for jealousy was not because they looked pretty or that they could woo any guy they wanted but because any wound on their skin was easily visible. So, you grab their arms a little roughly and they could scream murder since they had proof. If they were harassed they had dark circles under their eyes. If they got hurt they had marks to show it. On my chocolaty brown skin nothing would ever show. So I never could cry out loud. I never had any proof.

During this pregnancy due to the weight gain and also because of some parts of my body expanding, the skin has stretched to the maximum possible. So, on some parts of my body which now seem fair-er almost ghostly- pale white, I can now see blue veins. It pleases me highly.

A few days back I noticed some bruises on my stomach. Ugly blue bruises. Worried I went to my doctor and asked her on whether in my clumsiness I might have had bumped against something and if I have hurt my baby. She examined the bruises and laughed. Then she said- “No, you have not harmed your baby. In fact it’s vice versa. Your baby has been hitting and kicking you and these are the marks due to that. So, here this small round one that you see- this looks like it’s elbow digging into your skin and this one here, this looks like a feet.”

I feel like a freak.

Pregnancy Sucks

2011-11-03T07:48:00.000-07:00

I can’t sleep.

There - I have said it! Despite being warned and advised by ‘experienced mothers’ umpteenth number of times that I should store-bank some sleep and prepare for what is going to happen to me in the next few months, I haven’t been able to sleep. And trust me I have tried.

For the past two months, I have been trying every other night. But for the past two months on most nights till around four in the morning, I am walking like a zombie on my balcony with a warm glass of milk, a steaming cup of tea, a cold glass of milk etc. I have tried ajwain, heeng, awala churan, jeera- every possible ingredient in the mid wives or the doctor’s hand book. But nothing helps.

There is intense acidity and heartburn every other night. Well am not too sure on where exactly my heart is positioned in my body. From whatever I remember from my Biology lessons apparently the rib cage protects the heart. But then it also protects the lungs. So in all probability my lungs might be burning. But it sounds more romantic to say that my heart is burning rather than a- my lungs is burning. So, we would stick to that.

Anyways, I digress.

I was telling you about acidity and the heartburn which I have been facing for the past two months and which has made it impossible for me to sleep. Every other night, I lie on my back listening to music and chatting with the Husband and then hear him snore while I, wide awake am trying to tackle the searing pain in my lower back. I turn towards the left and feel momentarily relieved by the weight of the Husband’s arms and legs wrapped around me. In a few minutes the back ache and the burning sensation returns though.

So, I roll over to my right and in the process realize that my back is so stiff that it feels as if it would snap into two. I now face the Husband and pat his two day old stubble on his cheeks, sink my head below his neck, breathe deeply and try to sleep. But, I can’t. So with a trailing- sleeping dog behind me I walk over to the balcony with a glass of milk. I count the stars, I count the air planes, I count the leaves, I count the flowers. Some nights I read a book, I listen to music, I surf the internet. Nothing helps.

On most days when I see the sky changing colour and hear the chirping of the birds, I come back to the room- completely, thoroughly physically drained and exhausted. I lie down on the pillow and feel my mind blanking and drifting is when I am rudely woken up by The One kicking the very belly that houses it so graciously.

In the next few restless hours I feel m y muscles twitch and cramp while I toss and turn on the bed. I dream- more of nightmares though. Almost life- like nightmares. I can taste the metallic twang of death, my throat dries up, I cry. Most days I get up with tears streaming down my face.

Sick of feeling sick, I push over my covers and vow to beat this thing- whatever that is that is making me feel so miserable. I do not like feeling defeated and cheated. I get up, have a bath, pull over the only maternity jeans with a huge waist band that fits me, apply some kaajal and liner to hide the swollen eyes and trudge over to work.

I reach office and feel in control. This environment is what I can manage. This has a simple give and take relationship. This is what I understand. I log in and like a smart executive try tackling some mails over a glass of fresh juice. Then suddenly I feel it again. The metallic taste on my tongue, the fear in the pit of my stomach. I rush over to the washroom. I bump into some colleagues and give them a controlled smile. I bend over the lavatory and puke the milk and juice.

I stare at my haggard image, the red puffy eyes, the streaming kaajal and feel like screaming like really screaming- PREGNANCY SUCKS. HUGELY!!!

Mera Pati- Thoda Tedha Hai Par Mera Hai

2011-10-31T11:12:00.000-07:00

"Saurabh I think I have started looking extremely, hugely pregnant by now. I feel that is making people uncomfortable around me. Like today at work so many of my colleagues asked me on why was I still coming to office and that I should now work from home instead."

"Toh tumne gaana nahi gaya?"

"Gaana?"

"Haan- O' o o Jab tak hai jaan jaane jahan main aaongi"

Favourite Pregnant Moment

2011-10-29T04:55:00.000-07:00

I struggle and twist my body in various shapes so that I could reach over my bulging tummy till my shoes and tie my laces. Seeing me struggle with it, my two brothers, father and the husband bend over almost simultaneously to help me with it.

I Need Baby Socks- NOW!

2011-10-28T04:56:00.000-07:00

As the D Day gets nearer, the frequency and intensity of my life like nightmares have increased.The most recurrent one lately has been-

a) That I have died during child birth and I am trying to scream and shout and tell everyone that my baby needs socks but noone can hear me because- I am dead!

b) That I am not dead but I do not have socks for my baby. I am screaming and shouting at the Husband to get me socks for my baby but he does not listen to me despite the fact that- I am not dead.

c) That I have the socks but it's not sufficient to warm my baby's feet. My baby's feet are turning blue. I am rubbing them and screaming and shouting at the Husband to do something but he can't.

Every time I get up crying. Every time I fight with the Husband. Every time I scream and shout at the Husband that he just does not listen to me.

As I type this The Husband is hunting for extremely warm, extremely soft, extremely small baby socks.

Feeling Extremely Relieved

2011-10-26T09:53:00.000-07:00

.. After seeing Aishwarya Rai’s eighth month pictures where she looks like a bloated mannequin. If The Most Beautiful Woman in the World can afford to look like that in her pregnancy- I am after all, a mere mortal.

Feeling Extremely Guilty Too..

..For feeling happy after seeing her bloated mannequin pictures.

But then, I am after all, a mere mortal!

The Diwali Fallover

2011-10-25T22:20:00.000-07:00

I have always been quite clumsy. Mostly it seems as if my arms and legs have a life of their own and they are perennially in a battle of wills to move in different directions. The past few months during the pregnancy, I have been extra, extra careful while walking. Even just a simple movement of keeping your legs at a certain distance at a certain rhythm seems like a task now. With the bulging tummy in front- I feel extremely self conscious while walking. It seems as if my centre of gravity has somehow shifted.

Last night while preparing for a card party at home- I was zealously digging out candles and climbing over stools to maintain the hanging flowers at an equidistant precision which seemed so very essential to my sanity. I burnt diyas and aromatic candles and floated flowers- played some music, strung some lights and finally satisfied with my efforts, I was on my way to the balcony with a nice, cup of warm tea is when- I fell.

I am used to falling, getting stubbed and scratched, bleed, cut and burnt. I am highly injury prone. In the past I have pulled myself up, brushed off, cleaned, wiped, bandaged and have gradually healed and recovered. I have used every such instance to gain a few sympathy points from the Husband (or to blackmail him into getting me a dog) and have kept him abreast on the wound status every waking hour till it is a mere scar.

Last night after the fall, for quite a few minutes which seemed like ages- I couldn’t move. I cradled my tummy and immediately sensed tears streaming down the corners of my eyes. I felt the physical pain but my mind was numb. Lying huddled up in an embryonic position on the floor, I maniacally kept cradling my stomach but couldn’t feel anything.

Zero came across and looked over guiltily. He licked me and whimpered. I angrily pushed
him off. The maid came over rushing and offered a helping hand. I asked her to stay away. The door bell rang and panicked, she ran over to get it and I could overhear her blabbering something to the Husband.

Saurabh came over, pulled me off the floor and carried me to the bed. I grabbed his hands in mine and put them on the tummy. We silently looked at each other for what seemed like ages is when– we felt the kick.

Zero was standing near the foot of the bed. I called him over and he quietly came to us- I hugged him. He licked me back. Husband pulled back my hair and punched me playfully on the cheeks. He kicked off Zero who came galloping back at him. They got engaged in a tug of war at the foot of the bed. I wiped off the tear and looked over them-smiling!

For the next few weeks, I am bubble wrapping myself.

Third Trimester Is When You Realize

2011-10-24T19:48:00.000-07:00

......that it might be easier to position your bed in the toilet rather than rolling over to the washroom the millionth time to pee!

I Have Realized That Third Trimester Is When..

2011-10-21T08:17:00.000-07:00

...one transforms from being CUTELY pregnant

To HUGELY- freakishly pregnant!

Home Is Where The Art Is

2011-10-21T07:26:00.000-07:00

Zero is now an equal stake owner to the house now.

We intend to make him pay the EMI's too.

We are loving that ways.

Subliminal Messaging

2011-10-20T03:08:00.000-07:00

“Saurabh we have to go to T’s place on Saturday for a game of cards.”

“Who T?”

“My colleague- remember, I told you about him? The one who used to get Subway for his wife every day, every single meal when she was pregnant?”

“ I got the message.”

....and, we're back- again!

2011-10-19T20:20:00.000-07:00

After such a long absence just saying a - 'we are fine. we are okay' does not sound fine.

So, here is some proof.

The three of us

We have tons to share. In some time though. Stay tuned.

Favourite Pregnant Moment

2011-09-09T08:04:00.000-07:00

I walk over to receive an award at work.

My name comes on the screen with a huge picture- there is clapping and some nice words and some photographs. I hold the certificate and then I feel it- a kick in my belly but somehow touching and then reaching my heart eventually.
Immediately the applause fades, so does the camera flash and all the people standing and staring at me- suddenly, nothing mattered. I cover my hands with the certificate and as I pose for photographs, I gently move my hands over my tummy and I feel the thumping of the heart within it.

I know now what love feels like.

Do Husbands Too Have Nine Lives?

2011-09-06T21:18:00.000-07:00

I have been told that barring the popped up belly which is not visible in some combination of attire, I do not look pregnant. But I know that my body has grown in weird proportions and I can feel it.

This morning, I was trying to fit into one of my old skirts which till a few days back I was able to slip into, albeit with a little difficulty. Today, it just would not slide up my body. I was cribbing and demonstrating this to the Husband.

His left brained mind was refusing to accept the phenomenon since as per him I should easily be able to wear old skirts-but starting from below the tummy. He tried. He pulled and twirled the skirt to enable it to make it easier for me to wear. No success. He was not able to fathom on how just the tummy increase can lead to this.

He thoughtfully scratched his one day old stubble and then said, “ Hmm looks like your circumference has increased.”

Husband Seriously Needs to Learn The Act Of Comforting

2011-09-06T20:34:00.000-07:00

We were comfortably tucked in for the night, listening to old hindi songs and I was telling the Husband on what all happened through the day.

“I heard a lot of horror stories on labour pain and delivery today. A few of my colleagues were recounting their experiences and it literally gave me goose bumps, just listening to them. But most of them said that the pain is something so extreme and indescribable that there is absolutely no parallel in the world to it.

Just to give an indication, they told me that the pain is so very inhuman that during delivery the vagina was cut and then sewed back without anaesthesia support for a few of them. But, the extent of what all had happened preceding this is so immense that even this seemed bearable to them at that time.

This is so very scary!”

“Don’t worry wifey- woh log tumhe aise hi darane ke liye keh rahe honge. Sab theek ho jaayega.”

I Am Home

2011-09-05T09:48:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of anger which is usually directed inwards.

If you ever meet me in real life, I would appear to be an extremely quiet and calm person. That is deceptive. I run deep- very, very deep.

The only two people who have borne the brunt of my anger and would vouch for the above statement are my Husband and to a certain extent my father. Even when I am very angry, I do not scream or shout or break things. I turn quiet-er. And I cannot eat. Even as a child, I remember having gone without absolutely any food continuously for 3-4 days.

The first year of marriage was difficult for me. I was carrying a huge baggage from past. Basis whatever I had experienced till then, I believed that no marriage can ever work. In fact, just before the wedding night, in my anxious state, I had had a huge fight with the Husband. I was not even sure that he would eventually turn up with the Baraat or not. Dressed in all finery, I waited and fretted over it. When the Baraat was delayed beyond the scheduled time, I had almost called over my mother to call it off- telling her that this is not working. It would not happen. Husband on the other hand was the exact opposite. He had faith and he believed in it. And he did turn up with the Baraat.

With any opportunity that I got, I tried proving to him that this would not work. My mind would turn each minor disagreement into a fight and each fight into a proof that I was doomed for life. Since, I could not scream or shout- I would run away. Right from our college days, after every fight rather than retaliating, I would simply just run away from the Husband or lock myself away from him. The first rented accommodation that we shifted into had just one room. Husband constantly joked that I do not have a provision for a Kop Bhawan in there. There have been instances when I have walked away from him in the middle of the night, without slippers, without money/phone- crying. Invariably he would come after me. Without speaking or clarifying, he would first get me back – home! Next, he would make me eat. Barring one instance, I do not remember ever sleeping without food post marriage.

Last night, I again walked off on the Husband. This was my first instance of intense anger after years. Maybe it was hormonal. I have never acted this crazy lately- without alcohol. Way beyond mid night, I just grabbed my car keys and dressed highly inappropriately in a maternity gown-ish black dress I ran to my car in the rains, without slippers or stole. I drove around crying till I did not know where I was and got scared of losing my way since I also did not have my phone with me. It was as if suddenly I had risen from some deep, deep slumber. I turned the car back and traced back my route and found myself home and to the Husband.

Right now, I just found this picture in one of my old albums.

It was clicked immediately after one of my home coming. Husband had warmed the food and made me eat. It was very, very late in the night and cold. I was served piping hot gajar ka halwa.

I look peaceful. And calm. And sane.
And I was home!

What I Would Never Take For Granted

2011-09-05T07:14:00.000-07:00

Wearing a saree!

PS: Obviously, the pictures are from my non-pregnant days. Did you notice the flat tummy?

PPS: Husband says, he does not remember what a non-pregnant-me used to look like.

Neither do I.

Husband has already been outnumbered in this household

2011-09-04T04:35:00.000-07:00

Last night as is usual in this household, Husband was watching Television, I was reading and the Dog was sleeping on the floor, on my side of the bed.

This time though the only aberration to the rule was that Husband had placed both his remotes on my bulging belly. He said this was extremely convenient, he now had his own personal table top. But somehow, The Cockroach was extremely active last night and was moving-dancing to its own weird tune. Now this may sound weird or even gross out people who are not pregnant but after a few months, a pregnant belly becomes similar to an extremely elastic balloon. So you can actually see it distort into various shapes depending upon what the position of the baby is at that time.

So, the Husband would place his remotes on my tummy and The Cockroach would kick it off. It seemed as if both were in a battle of wills and neither was willing to give up. In the middle of this war the Dog got up from perhaps one of his frequent nightmares and disoriented he got on the bed and sat right next to me. Then, sleepily he gently put one of his paws on my belly dislodging the remotes once again.

Exasperated, the Husband looked at Zero and said, “Zero- meet Cockroach. And Cockroach this is Zero. Guess, you both are already a team!”

Many Moods

2011-09-02T07:45:00.000-07:00

...all in a few moments.

Thoughtful

Sleepy

Greedy

Angry

Someone tell my Husband

2011-09-01T00:17:00.000-07:00

.....that if he makes fun of my running red nose or imitates my coughing fits OR suggests that to cheer me up, we should go and watch Mummy Punjabi- ONE MORE TIME- he would be the one using that labour room that he has so magnanimously budgeted for two days.

Updating

2011-08-31T09:28:00.000-07:00

I have fever.

I have a running nose.

I have severe headache.

I can't take medicines.

I am having chicken soup.

...it's not helping my soul.

I just thought you might be interested.

I Love Blogging

2011-08-29T10:01:00.000-07:00

I just thought you might be interested in seeing Husband's posterior region.

Yes, I know - I am awesome.

Yes, I have had a fight with the Husband. This post is a form of revenge.

I feel powerful.

Note: I just have one Husband- ummm one of them. I definitely do recognize his posterior region.

You can guess!

Sunday Saga

2011-08-29T06:25:00.000-07:00

This Sunday one of the major tasks that I had assigned the Husband was to finalize the hospital for the delivery. As on date, I have been holding the fort. I usually do not involve the Husband as long as I can handle things on my own. So, he is real clueless on what has been happening to me till date and perhaps expects that chubby, happy babies just get dropped from the beaks of one of those birds shown in cartoons. This bit of information was essential for you to really understand what transpired on Sunday.

But also once given a task the Husband attacks it diligently. Like a typical left brained man, he made a list of probable hospitals, listed down their pros and cons and charted out the most short cut route between all three.

After evaluation of all three we finalized on Artemis and were seated with an attendant to figure out the details. I let the Husband take the lead in this discussion since I wanted him to be aware of everything, as I was sure that at that particular time when we would need the Hospital, I would be in no position to help him.

While he studied the papers, I concentrated on feeling the vibes of the place. I tried zoning in my energies and realizing if I got positive, happy vibes while in it.

In the meanwhile The Husband was handed over a booklet with various package options. He studied them religiously and then asked the attendant, ‘Yeh Labour room kya hai?’ Since the attendant does not know the Husband as well as I do, he did not take him literally. He assumed that since he was accompanying a visibly pregnant wife, he would know what being in labour means and hence the term labour room. He replied with a straight face, ‘yahin par patient ka admission hota hai sabse pehle.’

‘Toh yeh 10,000 ek din ka charge hai? Do din ke 20,000/- honge? Yahan kitne time rehna padega? ’

I looked at the Husband amused at his ignorance. The attendant replied incredulously,’Yeh toh aap par dependent hai. Pehle 4 ghante ke koi charges nahi honge- par use zyaada agar hua toh daily charges lagenge.’

‘Hum par dependent hai?’ The lucknawi nawab Husband meant ‘him’ here. He still uses Hum to refer to himself instead of the usual main. He definitely did not mean us, or the entire Hospital. It simply referred to a singular ‘him’.

‘Aapki Mrs. par.’ clarified the attendant patiently.

‘Okay Mrs. par.’ Apparently this reply satisfied the Husband. As long as the ball was in the Mrs. court he seemed to not be bothered. His left sided brain analysed and concluded that even if his Mrs. might need an extra day in the labour room, he would magnanimously budget for it and even if it means an additional 10,000/- , so be it!

Clueless on how difficult it would be to survive even an additional hour in there, he neatly wrote-‘ approximately 20,000/-‘ on his calculation sheet.

‘Yeh do packages mein difference kya hai?’ asked the Husband after studiously analyzing two grids.

’Ek Caserian package hai aur ek Normal.’

‘Toh hamein pata kaise chalega ki hamara Caesarian ho raha hai ya Normal?’

‘Yeh toh aapki doctor bataayegi.’ By now it seems the attendant had realized what he was up against.

‘Toh yeh doctor pehle bata sakti hai kya? Hum kaun se package ka estimate lein?’

‘ Vaise toh har doctor normal delivery hi try kartein hain, par baaki toh upar waale ki marzi hai.’

‘Upar waale ki?’

‘Upar waala??’ the attendant folded his hands and gestured to the all mighty.

Apparently again this answer seemed to satisfy the Husband. Since this estimate was controlled by his Mrs. Doctor and Uparwala, he realized that he had no role to play. He neatly wrote in his calculation sheet –

Not less than Rs X. Cannot exceed Rs Y. Liquid cash required= a+b+c

Unforeseen contingencies= z

So, total cash required, Upper limit = a+b+c+z

Lower limit=a1+b1+c1+z

While he was doing his permutation and combination, I looked at the now thoroughly perplexed attendant and just to keep the conversation flowing, I asked, ‘ Would you have any facility or tie up’s with any stem cell bank?’

‘Nahi- who toh aapko directly baat karna padega unnse.’

Husband over hearing the conversation while in the middle of his complicated calculation immediately realized that his Mrs. was being denied something which can add value to the package deal.

Obviously he has no clue on what a stem cell banking entails.

‘Arre yeh aap kya keh rahe ho? Aap log itna charge karte ho- ismein who bhi add karwa do- koi toh karta hoga Delhi mein?’

Attendant looked at me for help. I politely asked the Husband if he was through with his calculations.

‘Yes- but what are these various room rates? Are they different from the labour room charges?

‘Yes- this is the room where your Mrs. would be taken after the labour and delivery.”

‘Acchha yeh Economy, Standard or Deluxe mein kya difference hai?’

‘Sir aapko Deluxe room mein Flatron TV or Fridge bhi milega.’

‘Hmmm’ murmured the Husband while he thoughtfully scratched his one day old stubble.

We then went to check each room. Near the lift the nurse asked us whom were we to meet up with.

Husband replied,’ Nahi hamein kisi se milna nahi hai. Hum toh room dekhne jaa rahein hain.’

‘Acchha aapka koi patient aa raha hai kya?’

‘Nahi , nahi- yeh abhi patient hone waali hain, matlab thode maheeno mein.’ By then the fat, cheerful Santa Claus-ish nurse realized my baby bump and laughed, ‘Acchha Ho Ho Ho’

We checked each room and the Husband eventually settled on the Deluxe- in which the only resemblance to a Hospital was some monitoring instruments at the back of the bed else it was similar to any posh hotel. I told him that we can take up a Standard since the only difference would be a Television and Fridge. I do not watch Television at all and we would not really need a Fridge in winters.

In the meanwhile while I was checking the bathroom and the extra sleeping arrangement the almost manically obsessed with Television Husband was fumbling with the Flatron remote and looked at the extra sleeping couch. He tried adjusting the couch so that it was positioned exactly in front of the Television. Once satisfied with his positioning, he murmured, ‘No Wifey- we would take a Deluxe. It is just a few thousand extra. We should have the best for you.’

I smiled. I think the Flatron Television clinched the deal. I think the Hospital has some very smart marketeers who understand their right target audience real well.

What I would never take for granted: Cooking without puking

2011-08-28T09:50:00.000-07:00

It seemed liked ages that I could enter my kitchen and actually cook without running over to the washroom to puke even once.

Here is what lies on my table right now.

Mutton in khada masala

Fried Mutton Kaleji

Fresh salad in lemon

Vanilla cake

A lot of it did not turn out the way I expected it to but just the smell of the spices which did not make me puke made my day.

Also, realized that baking howsoever might be the eventual output is therapeutic.

Seems like I have got my old self back.

It feels nice.

Why I Love My Husband # 63456

2011-08-28T09:05:00.000-07:00

I watch him as he lovingly packs the wine bottles that we had bought while on our last vacation. As he wraps them all carefully he looks up to me lying on the bed and realizing that am not sleeping he says, " We would have these together, once you are allowed to drink."

Tale of some Very Expensive Biscuits

2011-08-27T05:32:00.000-07:00

This morning started off as any other Saturday morning

Around very, very, very early in the morning The Dog slowly and slyly crept onto my side of the bed. He made space for himself by pushing me off towards the Husband, put his head on my pillow, sighed contently and was soon snoring.

Around very, very early in the morning his walker rang the door bell and the dog stood on the bed excitedly and waited for the maid to open our room door and take him out. All the while his tail went swish- swash over my face in one rhythmic movement.

Around very early in the morning he came back from his walk with muddy feet, went over the sleeping Husband and licked his hands then he came over to my side of the bed and licked me all over my hands, arms and face. Getting no visible reaction to his demonstration of love, he slept on the floor in front of the AC.

Around the usual wake up time on a regular Saturday morning, Husband got up and started working on his laptop immediately. I slept some more till the maid got us tea with some Very Expensive Biscuits. Now pay attention to these Very Expensive Biscuits. They are the protagonists to this story on a morning which was like any other Saturday morning till then.

I sipped my tea and read and laughed over Rahul Gandhi's speech in the Parliament, lamented over the state of politics and resolved to take part in one of the anti corruption marches. Husband murmured his support on all the above mentioned points and sipped his tea and took a bite of the Very Expensive Biscuits.

Immediately he spat the Very Expensive Biscuit’s virginal bite and screamed or perhaps just said, “These are stale and soggy. Why weren’t they stored in air tight boxes? Why can’t anything be kept properly in this household? Do you know much I had walked in this obscure country to get these specially for you?”

Even before his sentence was over two drops of tears had already made their way down my cheeks and into my tea cup. For a few minutes Husband oblivious to my silent tears streaming down my cheeks carried on with his tirade. He looked up briefly and took a few seconds to first realize and then perhaps accept that his accusation has what made me cry. He immediately came over to me took me in his arms and started laughing. He professed his unrelenting love and wiped off my tears and when I calmed down a little, still laughing he went into the washroom to change into his gym clothes.

In the meanwhile, my mind was playing back thoughts of how I am and would be unappreciated for anything that I might do in future too. Also, on how in the coming months I might be expected to handle a job, a house, a dog, a husband and a child- alone. I thought of all the dark, cold days and nights when I would be locked in one room for months with an infant. I thought of all the travelling that I had to cancel in the past few weeks. I cried over the cancelled trips to Shanghai and the one to US that I just said no to. I shivered at the thought of not being able to understand what my child might need. I cried over the fact that I might just kill it in my incompetence.

In the meanwhile, The Husband stepped out from the washroom and found me in a heap on the bed sobbing uncontrollably. He rushed over to me and lifted my face to his. He moved his hands over my red nose and cheeks. He carried me off the bed and made me sit on his lap where my body heaved completely uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and tried to hold on to my heaving body. I could sense the Husband’s anxiety as he tried to calm me down. He had rarely seen me cry. Lately I have been crying but always-alone! His non-hormonal mind which had not travelled the distance that mine had was unable to grasp what had happened. He kept patting me continuously while my tears soaked his T shirt and I eventually wiped my snot over it, rubbed my nose over his shoulders and hugged him.

He removed my wet hair from the face and asked, “What happened?”

“I don’t want to kill my baby. I don’t know anything about raising a child. No one loves me. Even The Cockroach would not love me.” I blubbered through some more snot and tears.

The bewildered non hormonal Husband looked over at the unfinished Very Expensive Biscuits, held me in his arms and whispered, “Are we still talking about these Very Expensive Biscuits?”

My Superpower: I Can Grow Babies

2011-08-26T23:35:00.000-07:00

I have lost count of the number of weeks- I suck at numbers.

Besides till you are not pregnant you feel it is one, two, three...nine months of pregnancy. Once pregnant you realize that it is one, two, three... THIRTY SIX weeks of pregnancy instead.

THIRTY SIX weeks is too bloody long a period to live with muscle cramps, minimal bladder control, bleeding gums, incessant nausea all magnified to the power of infinity with crazy pregnant hormones. Also, this one, two, three ............THIRTY SIX weeks of pregnancy has to be survived with absolutely no caffeine or alcohol support but has to be lived with truckload of guilt at perhaps not eating healthy enough and not being happy enough every single waking second.

And then you realize that perhaps this guilt has been ingrained into your system and would have to be survived till one, two, three.............LIFELONG years.

LIFELONG is too bloody long.

Favourite Pregnant Moment

2011-08-24T10:35:00.000-07:00

Feeling the kicks of the baby in sync to the beats of this-

Husbands reaction : It has the right music sensibilities. Bollywood would rule in our household.

Note: The Husband refers to the baby as The Cockroach and hence the gender neutral 'it'. The first time when he was present for the Ultrasound, he was desperately trying to make the outline of the baby on the monitor and despite repeated failed attempts by the tall-beautiful and giggly Doctor at making him see the shape, he had whispered to me,"Are you sure that is a baby? It looks like a Cockroach."

We have stuck with that name. We are loving that ways.

Years later when The Cockroach would be sitting across a therapist and would be asked to dig into it's past to delve on the reasons for it's angst, I am sure it would start with this very post.

Fighting For The Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind

2011-08-20T23:03:00.000-07:00

I have briefly mentioned earlier on how I have struggled with my mind continuously. Over the years, I thought I had equipped myself enough and had learnt to handle the phases of intense darkness of the mind. Husband had helped me tremendously in pulling me out from what I thought was how the entire world lived and struggled. I realized much later, that all through my growing up years- I had not really experienced what normal people felt like.

The past few years, except for a few occasions and the winter months, I had fared well for myself. In fact, one of the reasons for us not moving to any other country was because I knew I cannot mentally handle the harsh winters.

The pregnancy has been harsh on my body and … and more so, on my mind.

Somehow, it seems the hormones have found a crack in the wall that I had supposedly built around myself and they are chipping away at my soul day by day.

I remember, lying on a metal bed while the ultrasound doctor had probed inside my body through an instrument which then felt so very unfamiliar. The entire experience was surreal. Now, it seems as if the entire sequence happened in the dreams, in slow motion Bollywood-ish frame by frame flash back. He preened at the screen and then turned towards me lying on the metal bed covered in a white sheet till my chest and asked- ‘Do you know that you are pregnant?’

The very first thought after the initial surprise was –‘I cannot wish to die anymore. I would have to live…like forever!’

The next few weeks passed in a haze. I should have had paid heed to the warning signals. But, I was overwhelmed. There were too many changes happening- physical, intense work pressures, Husband’s illness; it left me with no time to analyze what was I really feeling. Then- started the sleepless, anxious nights. Intense sweating, anxiety attacks that I had thought I had finally got rid myself of. I felt incompetent, weak, alone, miserable. The nightmares that I had not had for years came back to haunt me. I cried all the time. I would sit on the floor of the washroom hugging my pulled up knees, tucked in beneath my chin. I would be locked inside for hours. Zero would sit on the other side of the locked door, sniffing occasionally to check if I was still in there, waiting patiently for me to step out into the world. I dreaded the sound of his sniffing and whimpering. I did not want to love. I did not want to be loved.

I hated seeing myself. I did not know whom to confide in. I tried speaking with my doctor, who said it was normal to feel overwhelmed. I should just try and relax. I tried- with all my heart. I put in every ounce of strength that I had to literally claw myself out of the darkness that seemed to engulf me. This time I knew I was fighting not just for myself. I owed it to the life growing in me. I had seen it’s tiny form quite a few times. I had seen it with it’s fingers clenched- exactly the way I have them when I am very angry or when I am sleeping. I could feel it’s flutter inside my tummy.

I was in love.

I read greedily on anything that could help me understand what I was going through. There were tons of material and research available on post partum depression but very little on anything pre-delivery. That scared me further for the months to come. I knew I not only had to survive this phase but also be strong enough to cope up post delivery during the cold and dark winter months.

I fought. Every moment, every single day I struggled continuously. Gradually I started experiencing a few break-moments; moments when life did not seem so very unbearable. Rarely, but I also started looking forward to December.

Last night, in an extremely cold and dark room, Husband and I were tucked inside thick sheets and listening to old hindi songs. He was softly humming to ‘Chala Jaata Hoon kisi Ki Dhun Mein’. For a change, I felt so very blessed and secure that I hugged him very, very close. Remnants of my chewed up fingernails dug inside his back. Fearing that I might just let this moment slip, I whispered to him- “In the coming few months, I might get very, very angry with you. Do not leave me! I might also perhaps ASK you to leave. Do not listen to me. I am fighting- if I seem distant, do not worry, I would come back. Just stand by me, forever.”

Deriving Peace

2011-08-17T21:30:00.000-07:00

For the past few months I have had a Driver. Whatever little I have been stepping out of home, I have been driven while I almost lie down in the car with numerous cushions around me. Yesterday my Driver bunked and I drove after quite some time. I have documented my discomfort bordering on slight aversion to driving earlier. Suffice it to say that even in normal circumstances- I am no aspiring Schumacher. Now that I have been strictly advised to avoid any jerky movements and be extra cautious while being driven (Driving is not allowed in my Doctor’s hand book!) I was keeping to one side of the lane at a speed which was extra cautious even by my standards.

Obviously I had a lot of honkers and men staring back at me angrily all through the way. I ignored them. I hummed to the music; I watched the dark, swirling clouds forming innumerable patterns. I tried to interpret and form a story for every shape that I saw. I locked this feeling of peace and contentment in my heart so that years later, I could one day sit down with my child and tell him/her about this morning when his/her mother had realized that life was so very beautiful. The day when I had felt him/her move in my belly as I had screamed my lungs out at –‘Gazab ka hai din, dekho zara’

I also patiently stared back at angry honkers rushing for another one of their life altering powerpoint presentations. For a moment I could see myself in their worried expressions, in their nervous strumming of the steering wheel, in the dejected- hopeless look in their eyes. I felt like telling them that just a few weeks ago- I was you! I know that feeling. I empathise.

But yesterday nothing bothered me.

I have a life growing in my tummy. I have a responsibility that supersedes everything else. I have a fresh perspective- I am a changed me.

Obviously I was not able to communicate all this to the angry-honkers. Today I am putting this on my car as I cruise at 20km/hr!

Ode To My Best Friend

2011-08-17T10:20:00.000-07:00

Thank you for helping me learn to love unconditionally. For preparing me for the phase of my life that I am about to enter. For making me realize that my house and my life need not be perfect at all times- but, it’s still mine; it’s still beautiful.

Thank you for being by my side of the bed, day and night as I recuperated. Thank you for making me laugh. Thank you for letting me hug you while I cried, for licking off my tears. For looking through your sad, deep eyes as if saying- I understand!

I know- you do.

Zero, thank you for being there in my life!

Love Me. Love Me. Love Me

2011-08-17T09:53:00.000-07:00

What I Would Never Take For Granted

2011-08-17T09:39:00.000-07:00

Tying my own shoe laces.

Exhibits

2011-08-16T21:24:00.000-07:00

# 1 - A Drooling Dog

# 2 - A Growing Tummy

# 3 - An Unidentified Butt

Meal Deal

2011-08-13T23:45:00.000-07:00

Pre pregnancy meals:

Day one- Chicken, Fish, Mutton

Day Two- Chicken, Fish, Mutton

Day Three-Chicken, Fish, Mutton

Repeat. Repeat

Post pregnancy meals:

Day One- Baingan, Tinda, Torai

Day Two- Baingan, Tinda, Torai

Day Three- Baingan, Tinda, Torai

Repeat. Repeat

Sigh. What my mother could never manage- making me eat vegetables, my yet to be born child has already successfully accompalished.

Bollywood, Trust Me- You Are So Dead!

2011-08-12T08:36:00.001-07:00

I am not a happy-puker.

Of whatever limited knowledge that Bollywood and Facebook gave me on Pregnancy, the most consistent was the glorified-hallowed-pregnant puking. In fact Bollywood somehow made me believe that the sure shot way to figure out if you were pregnant was the advent of puking. There was not one movie which used the a) peeing stick with two lines b) a blood/ urine test c) an ultrasound as confirmative methods to prove pregnancy. Bollywood solely depended on the not so petite heroine puking or about to puke as a sign that she was pregnant.

Perennially lost that I am, I did not realize that I was pregnant till almost the end of my first trimester. I did not pee on the stick and wait for the second line to appear anxiously. Though that was how I had always visualized I would find out that I am pregnant. I had hoped, I would wait with bated breath, holding hands with the Husband and as soon as the second line appears, he would take me in his arms and we would do a sexy salsa in my blue bathroom. It was a dream- I can gyrate sexily to any music in my dreams. So can the Husband.

But life had other plans. I was told that I was pregnant by a male doctor in a shady, small clinic while I went for my regular health check up. An ultrasound which was part of the package that I had paid for long back and had conveniently forgotten was supposedly the last step of the health check up. Having suddenly realized that the deal would expire in sometime- I searched for the nearest ultrasound clinic and lie down on the metal bed with absolutely no clue on what an ultrasound meant. I was rudely shaken- literally.

Anyways, once I figured out that I was pregnant I felt cheated out of the glorified-pregnant-puking. I had not puked even once. In fact I had been drinking and snorkelling and trekking and drunkenly rolling on the beach. Since I have grown up on Bollywood and trusted it to a certain extent even then, I was quite surprised. Women asked me to thank my stars, moon, planets for having been spared the agony. But, I was disappointed. Bollywood had taught me that no pregnancy was complete without the puking.

Now while I am nearing the end of my second trimester, I finally get to experience the hallowed-pregnant-puking in full force. Suddenly and weirdly the nausea has hit me hard. I get a slight whiff of alcohol while I just cross a pub enroute to the washroom and the moment I enter the washroom I puke away the expensive Chinese dinner. While I am being called for a Very Important Meeting, I am puking my guts out over the gleaming office lavatory. One moment I am gossiping with my colleague and laughing over some madness at work and the next I am running that is if you can call that waddling albeit with increased speed- running, to the washroom.

Once I reach the washroom the scene out there is not umm gracious! It is definitely not as elegant and dignified as Bollywood had made me believe.

While I spill my guts onto the lavatory, my nose water and I cry. Tears run down my eyes and they along with the nose turn bright red. I stare at pinnochio-ish version of myself with quivering lower lips for a few seconds and then immediately I am heaving and bending over the wash basin. I splash my face with water and gulp a little too to somehow end the torture. But this carries on till my stomach is empty of gallons of milk and juice that I would have had painstakingly devoured till then.

After any such attack, I slide down on the floor, clutch my now hurting stomach and sides, dig my head deep within my knees and vow to kill Bollywood.

Craving for a lost moment

2011-08-12T07:14:00.000-07:00

In summer months the mango trees in my small town where I grew up would be laden with manjar and small raw mangoes. I had a favourite tree amongst them all. The one that was in the main aangan- a huge, benevolent, old structure! During the hot summer afternoons, while the entire extended family would be sleeping on the floor- I would be lazing around with a book near the window. I would listen to the wind sway the trees and would wait for the evening rains. Every evening, after the hot summer afternoon- it would rain. Around three the storm would start building up, the trees would sway drunkenly- and I would run to the one tree holding the prominent position in my heart- collecting the raw mangoes- would fill it in my skirt and drop it in cane chairs. Servants would be stationed outside the main boundary wall to get the loot in. All the kids would be running in the rains picking up the mangoes as they fell with a plop sound.

Then, the mangoes would be cleaned. The one's that were spared being cut open due to the fall would be kept aside for pickles. The damaged one's would be cut into small pieces and mixed with salt, chillies and jeera it would be had while sitting on the steps with innumerable cousins and chatting. I don't remember what we used to talk about so much. But, we did.

For the pickles, the mangoes would be cut lengthwise, marinated in salt and turmeric and spread over sheets of newspapers on the terrace or the aangan. After a few days, the green skin thickened and it lost it's extreme tanginess but would be subdued by the turmeric.

Right now, as I am about to leave for office, mentally making a list of things-to-do which seem so very herculean to manage in a day - suddenly, somehow I am reminded of the dry mangoes almost ready for the pickles. I could almost smell the turmeric and salivate at the tanginess of that first bite.

Right now, in a world which seems so very detached from that time, I crave- like literally crave for that one small bite of the mango from the huge, benevolent tree.

Right now, for a brief second, I think to myself- those were happy moments.

Wish My Insurance Covered Up for Maternity Clothes Too

2011-08-06T09:19:00.000-07:00

19 wks

The past few weeks when I was tied to the bed post, I wore wrap around skirts and Husband's T shirts. Now that I have started to step out in the real world, I have suddenly realized that clothes that I bought even a month ago do not fit me. As of now I have been surviving on my old clothes, which do not feel familiar anymore. They hug me at weird places and sometimes just refuse to slide into my body.

I am delaying buying any new clothes and do not want to waste money on expensive maternity wear which I would end up wearing for just a few months. A few colleagues have graciously offered to hand over their Maternity Pants to me and were justifiably horrified when I asked on whether they were sure if they would not need it ever again.

Every morning is a struggle when I try out inumerable outfits and then tired just grab whatever fits me anyhow. While going to work, I try and wear a few layers of tops to soften the imapct of the bulging belly. I have resolved to not spend hugely on clothes but would save for truckloads of diapers and probably some sanity inducing medication in the months to come.

In the meanwhile, I would keep wearing old clothes and just in case anyone dares stare at the bulging tummy or wonders on my choice of clothes, I would not shy away from flexing my gradually fattening arms.

Trust me, coupled with crazy-pregnant-hormones that would be a deadly combination- literally!

Movies that have made me cry in the past couple of weeks

2011-08-06T03:42:00.000-07:00

1a) Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

1b) Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham

1c) Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna

Conclusion: Karan Johar is perennially pregnant. Only now do I get to appreciate his movies. He can definitely somehow relate to these surging hormones in my blood.

2 a) Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge

2 b) I Hate Luv Stories

Conclusion: Pregnancy makes you relook and experience everything with a fresh pair of eyes. Though I have watched DDLJ innumerable times but I do not remember myself ever shedding a tear over –“Jaa Simran Jee Le Tu Apni Zindagi.” Or “Toh Kya Hua Agar Tumhare Naam Ke Siwa Mujhe Kuch Yaad Nahi Rehta. Toh Kya Hua Agar Yeh Diwana Tumhe Diwangi Ke Hadd Se Zyada Pyar Karta Hai.”

Except now.

I watched I Hate Luv Stories for the first time. I was alone at home since for the very first time Husband had gone for grocery shopping without me in the past decade or so. While he was frequently calling to check on data like whether sarson is yellow or black in colour, I was crying over Bin Tere.

3) Stanley Ka Dabba

Conclusion: Since not many people would have had watched the movie, I would give a brief on it without spoiling it for those who want to watch it. The protagonist is a child and the scene which made me rush to the washroom was when it was disclosed that the reason why the child was in such pathetic condition was because his parents had died in a road accident leaving him at the mercy of a wretched uncle. I was watching this movie with the brothers and Husband and by the time this scene came, I was trying desperately to not reveal to them that I have been crying. Eventually I had to hide myself in the washroom where I waited for my eyes and nose to return to their normal colour and then sauntered in the room by when the movie was over. I put it on rewind and watched it again and cried ..again!

At that moment I was scared of dying. Up till then I had been scared of living.

4a) Taare Zameen Par : esp the song Maa

4b) Rang de Basanti: esp the song Luka Chipi

Conclusion: I am going to be a mother.

Sleeping Beauty Is What I Would Want To Be For The Next Few Months

2011-08-05T22:27:00.000-07:00

I have been painfully thin since whenever I can remember myself as. With this pregnancy I have put on weight but not in places that I would have had ideally wanted it to be. Also, the weight, it seems is not equally proportioned. So my hands and legs are still as thin as before- I can still count the veins on my hands and quite a few coursing up my feet. But overnight my belly has somehow just popped. The end result of this entire prcocess is that I resemble a cartoon character- the one with a huge belly, on stick like hands and legs.

Husband is quite amused by this development. He cannot get used to the extra flesh around me. He keeps touching me. It's not a sexual touching. It is just a assuring-that-this-is-you touching. Also I have been having severe cramps and pain in my legs and lower abdomen. Coupled with the incessant insomnia and acidity this does not bode well for Husband's well being.

For the past few weeks this is how we spend the inumerable hours before I finally manage to sleep.

: Toss and Turn

: Shift one pillow under the belly, one over the legs, one behind the back and then reach out to the Husband over the huge mountain of a few more near my shoulders.

: Toss and Turn

: Roll over and then sit up

: Kick the Husband who apparently had slept after a 14 hour work day

: Wake him up and ask him to rub my back

: Cry pitifully that what can help me now is perhaps a glass of cold milk

: Wait while he gets up and gets me a glass of cold milk

: Drink the milk and drop the glass over the Dog sleeping on the floor next to me

:Toss and Turn

: Ignore the urge to pee

: Ignore it a little more

: Throw away the pillows, roll over and slide down the bed

: Land over the sleeping dog who looks me up with pitiful, hurt eyes

: Waddle to the washroom

: Bump over the bed and then almost topple over the sleeping dog while I waddle back to the bed

: Crib mournfully and count and remind the Husband again on the number of weeks since I have been asking him to get me a table lamp.

: Realize that the cribbing is ineffective as the Husband and the Dog are snoring peacefully

: Re align the pillows

:Toss and Turn

: Nudge the Husband to put his legs over mine to make them hurt less

: Push his legs off me since it disturbs the pillow positioning

: Nudge and pull and nudge and entice the Dog to come on to the bed and lie down over my legs

: He obliges with a sleepy what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you-mad-woman-look in his eyes

: The legs do not hurt that much now and the rythmic breathing of the dog calms down my anxious nerves

: Unable to Toss and Turn anymore, I remind myself that even Aishwarya Rai and now Lara Dutta might also be going through the same. I feel like a celebrity.

: I feel sick. A sick celebrity

: I ignore the urge to pee again

: I pretend that I am sleeping so that my body forgets that it has to pee

: I realize that my body is smarter than what I thought it to be as

: I kick the dog who with a sleepy what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you-mad-woman-look in his eyes gets down and sleeps on the floor again

: I throw away the pillows

: I waddle to the washroom

: On the way back, I hurt my toe against the bed and almost topple over the sleeping Dog.

:I curse the Husband for not getting me a table lamp

: I feel unloved

: I cry

: Toss and Turn

: Toss and Turn

: ....................

: .........

I sleep!

Pop goes the belly

2011-08-03T04:27:00.000-07:00

18 wks

My favourite sleeping position still remains- on the Husband's tummy

2011-08-02T20:42:00.000-07:00

Zero, when did you grow up from being this...

..to this!

You are now competing real close to the Husband's tummy. The tummy needs to spruce up its acts.

Bedroom stories- sadly this also does not talk about sex

2011-08-01T20:39:00.000-07:00

“Minal shift! You are on my side of the bed.”

“No. This is the middle. Here is the line- and I am just onto the line. I need more space now.”

“You do not need more space. You -with these three hundred pillows that you have around you need more space.”

"I am pregnant. I need these pillows."

"I am a 6 footer man. I need space."

“ F%*###..... I can see so much empty space towards your side. Why can’t you shift a little?”

“No- I want our boundaries earmarked before we go off to sleep.”

“If you are so desperate for more space... then if I do encroach onto your side in the night- just shift me off. I am anyways clinging to you the entire night and I am not that heavy as yet that you can’t move me!”

“No- I can’t move you in the night.”

“You always shift me towards my side of the bed in the night. You can still do it. I am NOT that heavy as yet.”

“I used to KICK you over to your side of the bed. Now, I am scared- for you- for both of you!”

I am pregnant and a woman. What is your excuse?

2011-08-01T20:21:00.000-07:00

I entered into marriage with absolutely no knowledge about sex. I blame Bollywood for my ignorance.

Growing up in a cute, little small town where good girls were not supposed to read, talk and discuss about sex, I solely depended on Bollywood for a few nuggets of wisdom on this topic. Eventually, from Bollywood, all that I learnt was that something happened between the sheets, only and only when it was dark and when there was some music playing in the background. Also, that it need not happen between or under the sheets. In those days even two flowers touching each other were considered to be having sex or so I had thought. Till a completely non admissible age, I believed that sex was synonymous with kissing.

Understandably, I had a real tough time in real life.

Now I have suddenly realized that I have entered into pregnancy with highly misconstrued notions about it. I blame Facebook for it.

I have hundreds of friends- mostly on Facebook. All that I heard or knew about Pregnancy was via Facebook. Friends from all over the world would get married, upload happy pictures of themselves honeymooning and then after sometime they would get pregnant and announce it by uploading happy pictures of Babymooning (I am so not kidding- the word and the trend exists. God Promise!). Then, before you can blink your eyes, there would be tons of pictures, again happy and cute one’s of the baby and then there would be an invitation lying in your inbox for the first birthday party. In the meanwhile you would have had been dealing with your hangover and wondering where time flew and you would drink some more to deal with the fact and the realization that time really does fly.

Understandably, I had real tough time in real life.

Through whatever nuggets of wisdom Facebook gave me, I concluded that:

a) Pregnancy is something that you can miss with a blink.

b) The entire process inclusive of the end result was a happy culmination of quite a few dreams.

What I wondered even then was why the f%*k does EVERYONE look happy on Facebook- ALL the time? I should have had smelled a rat. But I was not very perceptive especially where olfactory facilities were concerned.

Also, suffice it to say, that I was dumb. Not anymore though. I have experience and not all pleasant and I am sharing it all here. This is an indication for the weak hearted to quit.

Rest, follow me!

a) Pregnancy is a demeaning process. It makes you lose all sense of decency or the way you had been brought up to believe that your body was sacred. Now it’s not. You de-robe, get probed, poked, spread with a straight face.

b) You simply stop believing that this body is yours anymore. You lose all control over it. You also lose control over your bladder.

c) You spend half your time in the washroom and the other half, rolling over and waddling over to the washroom.

d) It’s adolescence all over again with pimples and skin rashes. Just when you thought you had pushed your past and the memories to the safest corner of your brain, they come to haunt you again.

e) You seem to be living in two parallel worlds. The dreams and the nightmares become so very life like that you lose all sense of reality. This morning I am grappling with - why did the Husband leave a black, slimy snake after me. I can sense it’s cold, scaly feel on my skin. It is not a pleasant feeling. I have had a fight with him over this. He does not seem to recognize me anymore. He maintains his distance. I do not blame him. He calms me down by politely saying that all these are due to pregnancy hormones.

f) Slowly you realize that everything that happens is blamed on to the pregnancy hormones. You lose control over yourself- it’s like pregnancy hormones have taken you over. You cry- all the time. But then that is also pregnancy hormones.

g) Your body grows. Overnight. In all strange places. You lose your sense of balance- literally. You need to learn to walk again. It's like childhood all over again.

h) And I would have had added quite a few more things to the list but I am continually interrupted by my loo breaks. More later- this, I am sure does not end here. I am just midway through.

Next time when Bollywood shows me happy pictures of pregnant women, swooning over a fat baby picture hanging over a whitewashed wall- I would kill it. I would blame the killing on to the pregnancy hormones.

I have signed out of Facebook permanently.

I don't think he is too happy being cuddled

2011-07-31T09:04:00.000-07:00

If you can ignore my dark circles and spidery hands, I definitely think we have started resembling each other.

But then he has prettier eyes.

...and better attitude.

I have an interesting household

2011-07-29T09:30:00.000-07:00

Whenever the door bell rings Zero rushes to the door. Whichever corner of the room or the house he might be in, he races the maid to the door. If the maid does not reach the door before him, he bends down and sniffs loudly and vigorously at the space between the bottom of the door and the floor. To the person standing on the other side of the door- it seems as if there is a huge anaconda inside. Then, he waits for the maid to open the door and would try to peep outside by pushing her and getting his snout outside. Despite his enthusiasm he is usually pushed aside while the business at the door is being conducted.

Feeling ignored and thinking that he is not adding any value standing at the door anymore, he would rush inside to where I would be lying and the Husband working on his laptop. Husband is always working on his laptop. Him being in any other position is a state which is a little inconceivable to Zero too. He would come excited, with his tail wagging vigorously and would look at the Husband and nod and want to tell us that see there is someone at the door. Run, Come, Get up- there is someone at the door.

Husband would not even move his head away from the laptop, would sense him standing close to him and would say calmly- “Bolo kya sandesa laaye ho thaakur!”

I had never thought I would miss sleeping on my stomach

2011-07-29T09:14:00.000-07:00

I have always slept on my stomach- that is when I am sleeping alone and that was when I was not pregnant.

Otherwise, I am wrapped up around the Husband in one jumbled up mass of legs and hands. But, when I am sleeping alone, I have my left leg completely straight and my right bent in towards myself. One of my hands would be near my lips and one of my fingers would be between my teeth- not sucking just stuck in there somehow. My other hand would be flailing somewhere.

Well, what can I say except that it is not a very pretty sight! In the mornings when I am drooling over my pillow, the Husband comes, over touches my forehead or plants a kiss- this is entirely dependent on the position of my flailing arm or the state of my dreams.

Years of experience has taught him well. If it looks like I am in deep sleep and the flailing arm has less chance of hitting him- he kisses me. But, on some days when I am a little awake while he is bidding me good bye- I would raise my arm to touch his cheeks and would try and sound sexy but on most such days my flailing arm either ends up hitting his eye or gets scratched over his watch. On such days he tries and touches my forehead lightly and leaves unnoticed.

On most such days, I get up feeling completely unloved.

But now it seems the Husband is a lot at peace. Because of the growing tummy that houses the baby, I am unable to sleep on my stomach anymore. The Husband can easily navigate through his morning ritual without judging and gauging my arm position.

For once it seems, he is enjoying this pregnancy.

Benefits of working from home

2011-07-28T22:08:00.000-07:00

You can wear your purple wrap around skirt with three holes at the bottom and a borrowed T shirt of the Husband and with unwashed eyes and sleepy breath you can still sound all business.

Dying...was not a pleasant experience

2011-07-26T04:41:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamt that I had died and that the only way for me to reach out to the Husband was via chat and I was unable to connect onto it.

The dream felt so very real that I could sense and actually see the Husband while he stepped out of the washroom, wore his white shirt, picked up his bag and then came over to me and lightly touched my forehead and then left. I could feel myself screaming and begging him to not leave me but I was unable to reach out to him. Once the door was closed I could smell his cologne in the room. I tried to force myself to get up and get out of the dream or whatever it was but I couldn't. In desperation somehow I felt that the only way that I could reach out to the Husband was via chat and I see the round, revolving waiting signal on chat while I try and connect on it.

I scream and cry and will the Husband to come back to me but I simply couldn't move.

I was finally able to step out of the dream or whatever it was after a few hours. Tired and exhausted after all the screaming and trying to connect on chat continuously, the first thing that I do is to call up the Husband. The moment he picks up his phone, I scream at him with my sleepy,hoarse voice, "Why had you left me and gone? Did you know that I had died and I could not even connect onto chat?"

The perenially calm Husband replies, "I am in a meeting. Can I call you back in two minutes?"

Do not be diplomatic- I was never normal

2011-07-24T21:38:00.000-07:00

Is it because of my pregnancy hormones or do normal people also put this song on loop and ....cry?

It would take me more than a lifetime to get around all his love

2011-07-22T22:14:00.000-07:00

Right now Zero bounds onto the bed and shuts down my laptop. Yes, that is my laptop beneath his heavy paws. He drops his ball next to me, looks sadly at my immobile frame and asks - "Why can't you get up and play with me? See this is the same ball that we used to play with. You have become so boring these days.

I am NOT lovin' it."

I am cutting down on his television consumption.He has been watching a lot of advertising lately.

Mirror, mirror on the wall

2011-07-22T21:14:00.000-07:00

This is my Husband on the day when he errrr we got married.

This is my father around the day he got married.

These are my parents on the day they got married.

Diversion:

They did not marry in 2006. I had put a stool on top of a chair, added a few cushions on top and had stood on this wobbling structure while I opened the old steel wardrobe. I took out the old album, dusted it off, coughed and sneezed a little and then toppled down along with the album. I had then sprained my ankle and perhaps dented my head too and was on the bed for a few days but in those days I had clicked pictures of all the pictures in that album.

I am quite enterprising that ways.

Back:

Now if my child is smart enough it ( we do not know the sex of the child yet. It is illegal.) would know where to pick up it's looks from.

It can look towards me for intelligence.

...............Or maybe not.

It's all worth it when

2011-07-22T06:23:00.000-07:00

....when he stands by your bed, puts his head on your chest and looks through his sad, deep eyes as if saying- 'I understand.'

Men do not understand love

2011-07-22T05:26:00.000-07:00

“Minal it seems Zero has inherited his pessimism in life from you.”

“He is not pessimistic- he is the most happy and carefree creature that I have ever met.”

“Then why is he so excited and happy to see me every EVERY other time that I enter this house. He is so surprised that I am back even if I step out for ten minutes. Does he not expect me to? Similar to the way you worry and start calling me the moment I board a flight, it seems he starts thinking of all the misfortunes that can befall on me the moment I step out of the house and the moment he sees me he is so happy and perhaps thinks that -Oh. JUMP. You. JUMP. Are. JUMP. Back? I can’t believe my stars- LICK.JUMP.LICK.JUMP- is that really you? You are back. I am so happy, so very happy.”

And this is my steady companion keeping an eye on the world as he gives me company by the side of my bed day and night.

Trust me marriage is a tricky business

2011-07-18T21:30:00.000-07:00

My Husband is a man of routine.

If you don't believe me listen about his first few minutes once he reaches home.

On entering the house he first tackles the dog who is an actor par excellence and acts trained in front of him. He would pet him, calm him a little and then enter the room where he would first drop his laptop bag at its designated place in one corner. He then takes off his watch and wallet and slides open his wardrobe and keeps them at the same place everyday- left hand corner, top shelf. He removes his shoes- keeps them at the same designated place every night. Picks up his slippers from where he keeps it every other morning.

He then gets down to petting the dog who would be rolling on the floor with all four legs in air begging- love me. love me. love me. They would then play. This can vary from throwing the ball to a tug of war to dancing with Zero with his two front paws on his shoulders or just meaningless running round and round the room. After a while the tired dog sits in front of the AC -panting. The Husband- not panting enters the washroom to change. He gets out picks up the two remotes- always the same two remotes and slides on the right side of the bed- it has to be the right side of bed always. Any change in this routine irritates him. Anything slightly displaced like by 15 degrees to the north, from its fixed, designated place makes him lose his sense of balance, purpose in life.

While he is going through his motions I (my earlier self which was not tied to this bed) would be devotedly engrossed in my passion for the day. I would have had resolved that very day that I would become a top rated dancer so I would be twirling to the same song in a loop- again, again and again. Or I would have had decided to excel at sketching or decided to paint a bedroom wall or turn the little patch of green that I have into a burst of colours and vibrant creepers or a vegetable garden or would have had resolved to wear only sarees from that day onwards so I would be tackling that and revamping and reorganizing my wardrobe and accessory box with an undying enthusiasm.

Husband not surprised at all by whatever would be happening around him would ask me about my passion, say some polite words on how he believes me completely and how he has full faith that one day I would conquer the world and would then settle down to watch television.

After a few minutes I would come over and ask him questions such as ' What are you watching? Which movie is this? Who is the director? When was it made? Why are you watching this?

Husband would answer all patiently but continue watching while I also continue with my passion in parallel to my incessant questioning.

After dinner he continues with television and I would be sketching, painting, arranging etc. Gradually along with my incessant questioning I would slide towards the Husband and eventually would be hugging him close and would get engrossed in the movie. My passion for the day would be neatly ...ahem just tucked in somewhere hastily. In a while I would realize that the Husband has stopped answering to my incessant questioning but is instead snoring softly. I would kick him sometimes in the hope that it would wake him up failing which I would stay up like an owl and complete the movie.

Next morning in any other normal household the conversation would perhaps start with a –‘Honey get up. You look beautiful’ or ‘Sweetheat you smell heavenly’ or ‘Darling see I have made breakfast for you- just the way you like it’. I am just recounting the innumerable possibilities that exist in the world. But not so in our household. While I would be slowly gaining my senses from my heavy, deep, contortionist sleep- drooling and dreaming sunk deep into the pillow, Husband would be fresh and ready and singing like a bird. The moment he would see me move he would say-
‘Hey wifey what happened in the movie last night- how did it end?’

Just beautifully perfect

2011-07-18T10:33:00.000-07:00

For a few weeks after I found out that I was pregnant- nothing went right. Added on to my nausea, worry and work pressures, Husband fell ill too. I have never seen him so unwell. That one night, I held him in my arms strongly- while he cried and squirmed with pain. I had never seen him cry. After hours of putting ice pack on him, he finally slept. I rolled over away from him so as to not disturb his sleep and cried. Weeks of fatigue and worry had finally broken me. As the tears rolled down silently, I talked to God. I have mentioned earlier on my relationship with God- I rarely pray to him- I talk. I asked Him on whether I was strong enough to be a parent and why is that I felt so incompetent and weak. I wondered whether this was the right time and whether this was the right decision.

Just then, Husband rolled over in his sleep and his hands fell on mine. His little finger gently intertwined with mine, he- in his medicines induced deep sleep held on to my hands strongly and passionately. I smiled through my tears. That was the moment when I realized that this- the little life growing inside me could not have had happened at a better time. I knew and believed from the bottom of my heart that things would turn out perfect- just beautifully perfect!

Well give him some credit for trying

2011-07-17T01:09:00.000-07:00

Husband to the Oh-I-Am-So-Sexy-For-My-Shoes-Doctor who apparently is the best-est in Delhi and has aeons of experience and is old and cranky- "So Doctor..." stuttered the Husband with the best-est dimpled smile he could manage- "...so after like so many, so many-many days of complete non-movement tied-to-the-bed-post that you have prescribed for her, can we like move a little, like just a little, like just to the malls for a movie or something?"

The OIASSFMS Doctor looks up, stares at him from under the huge spectacles, tosses her white hair haughtily and hisses- "Why ? You don't have a DVD player at home?"

I was NOT bathing with someone

2011-07-15T02:01:00.000-07:00

I thought my last post might be misconstrued, so I am listing down the Weekly Pregnant Bathing Ritual Process:

1) The maid gets the bucket and a mug.

2) She fills the bucket with the right bathing temperature water.

3) She places all the toiletries on the floor.

4) She places a modha for me to sit on.

5) She gets another modha for herself to sit on

6) Wrapped in a Sarong I sit on it, while she quickly wets my long, lifeless, oily hair.

7) Not remembering my hair being washed by anyone like this ever- (except for in beauty parlours perhaps), I think of the princesses who bathed in rose water and milk.

8) While my hair is getting shampooed and conditioned, I quickly tackle my face, hands and legs.

9) We are through the WPBRP in ten minutes.

10) I do not feel like a princess at all.

11) I feel like Zero.

12) I feel like a clean Zero.

13) But, I doubt Zero would perhaps ever make out the difference between a clean Zero and an unclean Zero.

14) The End.

What I would never ever take for granted

2011-07-15T01:49:00.001-07:00

Bathing.

Actually, getting out of the bed and bathing.

Actually, getting out of the bed and bathing -alone!

Do not come looking for humour here now

2011-07-14T20:53:00.000-07:00

I got up last night with the worst case of anxiety attack.

It must have had been real late in the night or was early morning. I don't know. I was sweating and already crying when I woke up. I kept crying for quite sometime, not knowing what was wrong. I just had this very deep sinking feeling. I felt I was getting engulfed by darkness and an indescribable fear gripped me. My hair was wet with sweat and tears. Tears were trickling down to my neck and finally settling down near my stomach. The front of my thin cotton T shirt was wet.
Suddenly I remembered that I was pregnant and I felt that somehow I might have had harmed my baby. I desperately moved my hands over my stomach- held on to it and bent low so that my head was touching the bed. I remained in this position for quite some time. Maybe it was mere minutes or maybe it was hours. I don't know.
I rocked back and forth, all the while crying. I prayed- I felt weak and defenceless and alone. I felt I could not do this- as if I was incapable of handling such a huge responsibility. I feared that I could not back out for life now. I feared the unknown. I craved for the past. I prayed- a guttural but quite silent prayer. I cried and rocked back and forth. I never knew I had such a huge reservoir of tears. My feet felt heavy. My breasts hurt. I felt ugly and bloated and alone. I had a spasmic pain in the lower half of my body. I controlled my breathing to ease the pain. I rolled over in an embryonic position- my hands still cradling my stomach, my knees touching my chest, my wet hair all over my face and with tears still flowing freely- I slept. Maybe it was late night when I drifted off to sleep. Maybe it was early morning- I don't know.

I got up with the thin streak of sunlight falling on my face. My eyes were so swollen that I was unable to open them for sometime. I opened my eyes to a bright, blue day. The sky was the deepest, clearest blue. The sunlight streaking in through the plants and creepers on my window danced on the walls. I looked at the red roofs at a distance, the silhouette of the mountains. I remembered the last night and tenderly moved my hands over my tummy. I cradled my tummy and felt hopeful. I realized and accepted that my life has changed- forever. And, with the warm sunlight falling on my face, the sound of the baby pigeons right outside my window, it was not that scary.

I felt I would survive. I knew I had to survive.

Another reason- for smiling.

2011-07-14T06:37:00.000-07:00

Click for larger view

What cheered me up today

2011-07-14T06:17:00.000-07:00

Click for larger view

Why would I not want to be connected by heart to a fun loving, attention seeking and a pampered person?

Why I love my Husband #63245

2011-07-14T06:08:00.000-07:00

Reaching home from work much much later than what promised, he rushes to me the moment the maid opens the door. Brushing aside the jumping dog, he comes to the bed where I am lying down. I move my head slightly towards him for the now customary kiss on the pale, ghostly, lifeless cheeks.
He stops short instead, bends down near my tummy- kisses it and says- "Sorry I am late!"

The reason why I blog

2011-07-12T23:49:00.000-07:00

......... is because of you, you and you.

All of you who have given me a semblance of a family around me that I so desperately need right now.

Long lost friends, cousins, family and so many unknown faces.

This space helped me reconnect with people whom I had thought I had lost on the way somewhere. Also with faces that I do not recognize but they have stood by me all through the high's and low's all these years.

With few I reminisced over the distance that we have travelled, I laughed with a few and cried with some over shared pain and experiences. You who have gone through much worse than what I can ever imagine but still stand strong. When you looked back and shared your pain, I could sense your voice breaking up but then I also recognized the resolve in your voice- that gave me strength.
And then there were a few who had no freaking clue on what I am writing or what I am going through- just because they are men. But yet you empathised and more importantly made me laugh.

In the process that the huge emotional roller coaster ride that was yesterday, I also had to explain what a blog means to my mother. I tried. For some strange reason she insists on calling it a blocktron. I really am not too sure of what she understands of it as. I let her live in her illusions. It's easier- I was always an escapist.

As for the important news- the baby and I am fine.... as of now!

But I am literally strapped to the bed- the maximum that I can move is to the washroom and that is not for bathing. I am still bleeding continuously- any slight movement increases it. I am on injections and increased medicines everyday- my body is sore and pale but I am not complaining. Any movement that I make would lead to restricted nutritional supply to the baby. So I tell myself that I am playing Statue and I have to win this. I was always very competitive.I have created a make-believe around me.

I have a maid whom I call over on phone from the other room if I need anything, I have a driver who takes care of any out of house needs. I have a dog who has it seems realized that something is different. He does come on the bed but slowly- he avoids all the pillows positioned towards my lower half of the body and gently comes and puts his head on my chest. I almost stopped breathing at this cuteness.
I have a brother who comes and cooks Ranchi wala golgappas- phuchkas, jhalmudis- tangy, spicy and exactly the way I remember having it as kids. I have a Husband who comes home tired almost after a 14 hour work day- smiling. First thing that he does is to come over and kiss me on my pale, colourless cheeks. Then he tells me about his day which includes going out and meeting people- real people. It has lunches in restaurants with music and food. It seems all very exciting.

Then I tell him about my day which involved the Dog coming over on the bed and the maid pushing him off. It also had a trip to the washroom and then one more trip to the washroom-and then one more.

Then we lie down- that is, he lies down- I am perennially lying down and watch Two and a half men and Modern family and we laugh a lot. The Dog climbs up and snuggles to the Husband. That is how we stay- all four of us.

And then , only then I wonder that life is really not all that bad!

How the f@$k does one stop crying? I seem to have lost that ability

2011-07-11T04:27:00.000-07:00

Right now I lie on the bed bleeding and crying.

I move my hands over my stomach, desperately trying to sense your heartbeat. I try to feel the slight , now familiar flutter that your movement created inside my tummy. I want you to stay within me. Right now, there is nothing else that I want more than you. I don't think I have ever wanted anything else this desperately. A few months within me and I feel I already know you.

This is not the first time that I have bled this profusely. Last time I was convinced that I had lost you. I had sat in the office washroom and seen myself bleed. Two rolls of toilet paper down and it just wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop crying either. The blood so unusual to what I had been used to- bright red, staining my fingers in my desperate attempt to make it stop.

I cry while I call the doctor who asks to first lie down for half an hour and then rush to the hospital immediately. With absolutely no place at work where I could lie down for a while, I start out for the hospital. I cry while I wait for the lift- somehow completely oblivious to everything- everyone around me. As I lie down in the car, I could just see the dark clouds and some truck drivers staring down curiously.

I listen to the rain fall and ask God to forgive me for all those times when I thought I was not strong enough to have you. I thought this was God's way of simply listening to my prayers- literally. I am used to feeling cheated by God despite Him granting all that I have ever wished for.

In the next few hours, I am prodded, examined and wheeled on a wheelchair from one room to the other....my body that is - I am somehow far- far away from those musty, hugely lit hospital corridors

After a few hours of wait, I watch anxiously at the television screen, while the Doctor rubs the gel onto my stomach. She moves the cold metallic thing over my stomach and I am straining to make out your outline in my uterus.

I hear the doctor say- there he is, waving at you. I look at you- fingers clenched- exactly the way I have them while I sleep or when I am very angry.

You look peaceful. I cry!

Doctor gets on to assess the damage. I am suddenly so relieved that I cannot stop myself from crying. The doctor hugs me. Lying alone in that hospital for hours had broken me- I clutch at her hands and manage to mutter- thank you!

Today I again wait to see you. I pray that I see you with your fingers clenched. I know you might be angry with me because I have not been happy and I know that you can sense it- but you just be there with me. I promise I would make up for all the wrongs.

Just stay!

It does feel like I have too much time on my hands

2011-07-08T08:31:00.000-07:00

12 Weeks

13 Weeks

14 Weeks