[Flashback] Pages from my Pregnancy Journal: The first movement

I was only about 3.5 months pregnant, when one day lazying on the couch, after quite a rejuvenating short vacation in LA, I felt a flutter. My first reaction was, "Oh wow! It's the baby." But then, I tried to reason it could be some other discomfort too. I felt a little uncertain and when no other movement happened for the next couple of days, I dismissed the thought. At our next prenatal appointment, the doc couldn't confirm either.

We went to watch Rock of Ages sometime in the 4th month, and in the middle of the movie, I felt what was most definitely a kick. It was certain. During the next hour, there were a lot of movements and much to the embarrassment of Vish, I was extremely squirmish and uncomfortable. It was a late night show, and I just wanted to go sleep. Early morning, the next day, the movements were quite frequent again. It had to be the baby. Finally, I made Vish touch my belly, and he felt the movement. His first reaction, "Holy S@#!, the baby's kicking! How awesome is that!" The excitement in his voice was so endearing. Come to think of it - it was his first physical proof of the baby (apart from the ultrasound). 

After that, till the day I delivered, Vish would many a times during the day, come and try to tickle my tummy, or do something to get a reaction from inside. It didn't matter if I yelled and told him he was causing discomfort to me. He's dismiss me, saying, "I need to talk to my daughter, can't help it if you are the carrier." 

Haa! Carrier indeed!!!

[Flashback] Pages from my Pregnancy Journal: Finally, the baby bump shows!

I still remember going in for my 6th month prenatal appointment, and the nurse exclaiming, "Every time I look at you I wonder why she is here and then I see your file and I am reminded you are pregnant! You don't have a belly at all!"

Any other time, I would have loved the complement but at the fag end of my second trimester and nobody could really tell I was carrying - I was disappointed. Now that I look back, it all seems so stupid but at that time I hated the fact that I was fitting into most of my pre-pregnancy clothes and those that I didn't were just a wee bit tight at the waist! Hell! I wanted to go maternity clothes' shopping. In retrospect, it must have been my hormones acting up but at every visit to my OB/Gyn, I used to ask, "So when will I start showing." She'd quite cheerfully laugh my query off and say, "When you are ready."

And, swear to god, I developed a bump over night. In the first few days of my 3rd trimester, I just had a small little paunch - like the kinds you get when you eat a lot and don't exercise for a couple of months. But, by the end of the 7th month - I had quite the belly. The baby was showing alright. 

I was delighted but my ecstasy was short lived. A growing bump also meant more discomfort in sleeping, moving around, trimming toe nails, going up and down the stairs, etc. It also made strangers in malls and grocery stores, and parks, walk upto me with a knowing (and very annoying) smile and asking, "When are you due?" "You are carrying low, it has to be a girl!" "Do you know what you are having?" "Are you looking forward to being a mommy?" 

The funniest experience was when I was picking up fruits at an aisle in the grocery store and a very shy looking American guy (in his late 20s, maybe), walked upto me and said, "Hello, How are you doing? I just wanted to say Congratulations." I was taken aback and didn't realize why he was wishing me. He ever so hesitantly pointed at my tummy and said, "For that. All the best." Oh god, I laughed so loudly, I think I scared him. I did manage a giggly "thank you", though. Poor guy, hastily retreated to one of the other aisles.

Oh, and I cannot end without narrating this other equally hilarious incident. I was walking to the gym (those rare days when I'd come to a sudden realization that I need to be active to be fit), a neighbor's kid (a 5-6 years old boy) came running towards me and impishly grinned a hi! I gave him a warm hello and complimented him on his cap (a cool thing with lots of lights and all) - I was sure being a typical child he probably wanted to just show off his accessory. But I was wrong. He directed his finger to my bump, and said. "I know what's in there! My mom has it too but her's is bigger." If I didn't have a couple of other pairs of eyes focusing on this conversation and hence embarrassing me, I would have rolled on the grass laughing. 

Clearly, showing your growing baby in your belly is not an easy task!

[Flashback] Pages from my Pregnancy Journal: The first heart beat

A very sick and pukish morning, I pulled myself together with great difficulty for our 6th week ultrasound. The doctor has prescribed an early ultrasound because my HCG levels were unusually high (as per the blood test). My morning sickness was so acute that all feelings of anxiety were pushed to the periphery - I was just praying that I don't throw up during the ultrasound!

So, I lay down - the gooey stuff sprayed on my abdomen and the large screen in front of us switched on. In a minute or two, there was an unidentifiable mass of white on the black screen. "That's the baby!", the technician exclaimed. Both, Vish and I were like, "Oh, okay". We couldn't make out anything and so we didn't really jump with joy you know.

Then we heard beats - like a horse galloping. The tech asked us, "Do you know what that sound is?" We both, like eager children wanting to please the teacher, said "my/her heart beat." Haa! The tech laughed at us. She said, "That's the baby's heart - beating at 164 beats a minute".

Oh my god! We were shocked. The little bundle of cells already had a heart that beats. It was a miracle. 

You might be as scientific in your outlook as you want but that first heart beat throws you off the highway. You become a believer in the miracle - the miracle of life. 

For days, afterwards, I couldn't get over that heartbeat - and would often (in a very filmy style) place my hand over a much non-existent belly and think to myself - someone's living inside. :)

[Flashback] Pages from my Pregnancy Journal: Morning sickness

As M completes three-quarters of a year, I thought I'd do some flashback posts on the other nine months - and what better event to start with than the first on my pregnancy journal: morning sickness.

If you have never been pregnant and have watched a good number of bollywood and hollywood movies that somehow have someone pregnant, chances are that your expectations from morning sickness are very similar to those that I had. That classic scene: The woman feels slightly nauseous, pukes on her favorite chicken sandwich, eyeballs roll across the table, a pregnancy kit is bought, the pink line flashes, there are exaggerated expressions of joy or immense mortification (depending on the situation), and the tummy begins to blossom. Once in a while, in some rare true-to-life-swearing film might include extra shots of throwing up. But that's about it. And that was my naive understanding of the highly misconstrued term: 'morning sickness'.

And here's the truth.

First and foremost, whoever coined the term "Morning sickness" should be shot dead. It can happen anytime of the day - and all the time too. One fine day during my 5th week, I got up with a dizzy head and an intense sensation of nausea. That was just the beginning. After that for the rest 8 to 9 weeks, I was sick 24*7. There was absolutely no respite. When I went in for my second prenatal appointment at about the 3rd month mark, the doctor was shocked and so were we. I had lost 6 kgs! The slimmest I had been in decades - a mere 43 kgs - I swear to god, if it was not for the constant throwing up, I'd have done a chicken dance right on the middle of the road. I was size zero - all my clothes were oh so loose - But, all that elation was only momentary - the doctor said I needed to get back on track by eating just about anything - ice creams, desserts, anything to get the calories in. You'd think: wow! Just when you begin to wonder about a balanced pregnancy diet, here I was on a binge prescription.

The sad story: I could not bring myself to eat any of my favorite foods - no desserts, no Italian, no Thai, no spicy Indian street food, no Mexican - nothing would taste okay and nothing would smell okay. The faintest of smells like the rice boiling would trigger massive bouts of nausea - we stopped cooking at home - Vish had to give up on coffee. At one time, I thought I had become a lunatic because I could smell the running water from the tap and find it sickening. For a whole month, my diet included Gatorade, watermelon, sips of chocolate milk, an occasional yogurt parfait from McDonald's and some dhoklas from a nearby Indian shop. If about 20% would stay in, I'd consider that a lucky day.

Finally, when things refused to improve, the doctor put me on Zofran. It only helped to keep my food in - did little with the "sickness" sensation. Plus, it was so strong it would just knock me off for hours together or I'd get those really severe headaches. 

I had given up all my dreams of that Utopian pregnancy that involves good food and good shopping. We were struggling to keep everything sane and bracing ourselves for a full nine-month haul (yes, some women suffer from acute nausea all the way), when a week or two into the second trimester, I woke up one day to no nausea at all. It stopped as suddenly as it had started. And, I must admit after that everything was brighter, more cheerful, and more ballooned. I went on to not only regain those lost 6 kgs but gain another whooping 13 more - to be the fattest and hugest I have ever been. More about such "weighty" gains and losses in some other post :).

Not okay!

Just posted this on FB, and thought it must be recorded here as well.

The madame has been talking, a lot. 

No mommy (no 'm' syllable at all, btw), no daddy (tho there's lot of dada) - apart from the undecipherable (constant) babbles of tata, papa, baba, Manya's first "meaningful" word "AAIKAY" - her version of okay! 

She picked it from me, I guess, all day I go on, "This is dangerous, don't touch it, okay?" blah blah, okay? And she says it so effortlessly, which is cute. But what is not is, that she says it ALL THE TIME.

I love you.

aaikay

You are the naughtiest girl ever.

aaikay

We need to eat lunch now.

aaikay

Come, let's read you a story.

aaikay

Mommy is fed up of you.

aaikay

Manya, enough of okays, now this is far from being okay.

aaikay!

Good lord, Save me.

Three-quarters of a year!

Oh my god, the pace at which we are toddling towards the first year mark is actually frightening. Today, Vish joked that we have known M for 18 months now - 9 months outside and 9 months in the womb :). That got me thinking that I should be doing some posts about the earlier nine months too! Let's see if I can come up with something in successive posts. 

Meanwhile our 9 month old monster has been upto a lot recently.

• She is trying to take a few steps while holding onto the couch. She seems a little unsure, even scared to do the walk really. Still can stand only with support. It's her crawling that is becoming so difficult to cope with these days - she's so fast - in a blink of an eye she's gone!

• She can babble for a good 5-10 minutes at stretch - she sometimes even answers back. Thankfully, we can't figure out what she's saying!

• The first signs of tantrum-throwing are apparent. Every once in a while she throws herself on the floor and kicks her legs. Now where do all these babies learn and come from?

• We are experimenting a lot with food - a whole variety of thick soups, combination foods like daliya khichdi, veggie upma etc.,  yogurts, finger foods like pasta, rice, chappathis, breads, cheeses, and even fruit shakes! The good part: M loves new flavors- she doesn't really "reject" any new taste - btw, I must mention she loves cinnamon! The downside: she doesn't eat too much at one go! She is on some kind of diet you know - doesn't much care for sweet stuff too :(.

• We have made quite a bot of shopping and other outdoor trips, and touch wood, she seems a cheerful companion. Might I add, she loves changing rooms - all the mirrors and lights - I think (hope) we have a shopaholic in the making :).

My daughter ensured she got only mommy's milk!

[This post has been written as part of Mothering's 1st Annual "Blog about Breastfeeding" Event to celebrate International Breastfeeding Week Aug 1st-7th.]

At my very first prenatal appointment, my OB/GyN asked me: "Do you plan to breast feed?".

Even with a planned pregnancy, the strip turning pink is a huge surprise - with nervous excitement, my husband and I had gone in for the appointment. We were awkward, not knowing what to expect. Visions of parenthood had only included huggable cherubs and all things cute and pastel. The doctor's apparently routine question threw me off-guard. There was so much I had not even thought about. I very hesitantly replied, "If I am able to I will, as a first preference."

I spent the next nine months reading anything and everything related to breastfeeding. I attended prenatal classes where they taught the various holds and even bought books with graphics! The more I researched, the more I dreaded the idea of breastfeeding. While the benefits were undeniable - Latching problems, flow problems, stigma of public feeding - there seemed to be a thousand and more deterrents to what seemed initially the most natural maternal instinct. (Actually this makes me realize that there are so few positive stories floating around - we mostly hear about horrors - all of which maybe genuine. But, we need more feel-good stories so that new mommies know that positive experiences are just as real and common).

With unresolved conflicting emotions I went into labor. Immediately, after the big bang birth, the attending nurse asked me if I would breast-feed now. "Now? So soon? Am I ready?" With the most gentle smile ever, she placed my baby in my lap, helped me into a nursing position, and said, "The baby and you both are ready." With my heart booming thud thud, I brought Manya close to my chest and she did one of those miracles that only babies can do, she latched on and began sucking as if it was the most natural thing to do. All my worries and trepidation faded into oblivion, in seconds. I became a proud breast-feeding mommy. My daughter ensured that.

Our feisty little angel turns 9 months next week, and we are still going strong. Though M was a pro from the word go when it came to nursing, we haven't been without our share of struggle. My daughter took the meaning of on-demand feeding to a whole new level - she was a frequent nurser (still is) but in the initial months, she wanted to feed every 2 hours - day and night. To add to that she was a reflux baby, the nursing frequency went even higher on most days - then there was cluster feeding for weeks and months at stretch. 

And boy, did my daughter know what she wanted. She refused to take expressed milk from the bottle - never ever giving me the chance to give her formula for even a single feed. We were literally stuck to each other for the first 6 months - till we started off on solids. I fed her in the car in parking lots, in doctors' waiting rooms, and even in trial/changing rooms! My husband used to joke that I am our daughter's 24-hour milk bar with anytime, anywhere access. 

As if the "real" issues were not enough, there was no dearth of non-supporters, from quarters I had least expected. "Manya always looks hungry." "Do you think your milk is enough for her?" "She is so thin (hinting that maybe I should try supplementing)." "Is the reflux because of you feeding her?" "Why don't you force train her on the bottle - then you can get a break, and others can feed her." "What's the harm if a baby gets a tummy full of formula feed every once in a while?"

Thankfully, we have a doctor who is extremely supportive and advocated on-demand nursing all through. To be honest, there were times I'd fling my hands in the air in despair, order formula and bottles, and try feeding her - I'd cry in desperation when for hours together the only break I'd have would be a nature break and a glass of water. What pulled me through? My daughter. She'd not budge from my bosom when she was hungry and she refused any other form of milk - she made sure it was only mommy's milk she got - straight from the source. (Yes, this little girl had done her homework well :))

Whatever doubts and fears that would develop every now and then would melt away when I'd see my determined cherub sucking for dear life, only to take a break at regular intervals - to gaze at me -sometimes in wonder (wow, this woman always comes with the milkers), sometimes in delight (this is what I exactly needed right now), sometimes (though very rarely) in gratitude (only this can soothe me), sometimes (actually very often) in agitation (couldn't you have given this a few seconds earlier), sometimes breaking into a cheeky, gummy grin (guess what, I am not hungry, I just wanted some comfort and alone time with you), sometimes in frustration (this is not fast enough or too fast for me) - but mostly her gazes are peaceful - as she drifts into a calm slumber that only drunkenness from mommy's milk can cause!

The lesson I learnt: They are actually right when they say it's best to follow your baby cues - she knows best. I credit my breastfeeding ability to my daughter - she was forgiving with my clumsiness, she taught me, by example, patience (nursing a baby is no joke), skill, determination, how to enjoy nursing, and most importantly she taught me that absolute love is possible.

First haircut

As if it was not enough that mommy has become a manicurist/pedicurist, she is experimenting with hair styling too!

Yes, you heard that right. Manya had a first haircut and I did it for her, right at home, in her bath tub. Before you start hyperventilating, hear me out. It's nothing great. I just combed her shampooed hair straight down onto her forehead and chopped it off straight. Similarly the long strands at the back that have been irritating her for a while were also cut off. Ofcourse, it's a far from perfect job, but it serves the purpose, for the time being.

Her hair was all over her eyes and ears and I had had enough of pushing it back a million times during the day. M herself had started getting irritated - so Vish and I decided it was time she got a trim. We inquired at a few kid salons - but they don't take children less that 1 year of age. Even then, I read a lot of horror stories about even the most expensive hairdressers nipping off the ear every once in a while. So finally, after enough encouragement from Vish and my mom, I took advantage of an exceptionally happy bathing time, when M was busy playing with her water toys. It was simple and quick, and Vish actually said he quite likes it. So, there, I too was happy with the end results.

By the way, history does repeat itself. My mom did exactly the same for me. Infact, she was my hair stylist till I was almost 2. :)

[For those wondering about the hindu ritual - "mundan" (shaving of the head hair completely) - Vish and I have decided not to go for it for various reasons. 1. I come from a family where this ritual is not practiced for girls - and I personally find it quite scary (so even if the ritual was there, I wouldn't have gone for it). The whole idea of a blade all over that sweet little head gives me the shivers. Why to unnecessarily subject my baby to crying and stress? | 2. I don't agree with the religious explanation behind the ritual (previous birth memories, dirty hair from the womb etc. etc.) | 3. There is no scientific proof that hair grows "better" or "thicker" after shaving it off - I have confirmed this from quite a few hairdressers and doctors, even though some moms claim that hair grew more evenly after the shave - but that will anyways happen, I guess. M has decent hair, in any case.]

No screen time!

You'll hear most parents lament the fact that all the techniques and disciplining mantras they had always sworn by go kaput when the baby actually arrives. It is really really true. So many "rules" are bent and worked around to allow for individual spaces (that is a very polite way of saying to give into stubborn infants/kids). (But that would be a different blog post.)

However, Vish and I have, as parents, stuck to some basic principles that are more-or-less non-compromisable for Manya (and have remained such in the 8 months so far - phew!). Out of these, one is no screen time till  M turn 2 (years) - so we have 16 more months to go. We follow this quite strictly - no screen time means no TV, no computer/laptop/tablets, no phones - basically nothing with a "screen". We also minimize any "background exposure", which means if she is around there'll be no TV running in the background. Music is okay. There are two exceptions to this rule. (1) She is allowed Skype time with family and friends. (2) Once in a while, we do show her photographs.

Our reasons are very simple. Babies and infants do not have the ability to correlate motion picture with the sound (low cognitive retention, and all that dense scientific lingo too), and when they start doing so (as they grow), they "learn" to become passive observers rather than proactive participants. Even after two, I personally feel screen time should be kept to a bare minimum and should always be supervised (not only to supervise the content but also to engage the child in understanding and relating to the content). 

I come from a home where mom and dad were very strict about TV watching in the growing up years. Even in high school and senior school, we were allowed only half an hour to an hour of TV everyday - and a movie on the weekend. It was in college that finally this rule was "lifted" mainly because we got quite out of hand by then :D. I can't really compare on how I have turned out vis-a-vis those who watched TV at will - but I do know that when I look back at my childhood - it is filled with vivid memories of lively family conversations, lots of books, board games, picnics and playing and running about. Strangely, the tears I shed because I was not allowed Batman AND Small Wonder AND Star Trek on the same day, are all forgotten (and forgiven :D)

Growing up in today's times with technology having encroached in all private spaces of our being, I know "controlling" will be more difficult than in the 80's and 90's - but I will try - really hard. Screen time can be a lot of fun, play and learning and I will ensure it's used only for that - and not as a substitute for real life, real people, and real play.

Aah, but what really made me write this post was that because of this rule, guess who's suffering the most - yours truly. I have to steal in my screen time to coincide with her naps - and most of that time goes in FBing and blogging, leaving little room for TV or movies :(. Your own rules come at a price, huh? Just when I thought I was "THE" parent and "I" would "MAKE THE RULES" :P. Sigh!

Seeking cute babies

That was the subject line of an email I received. The body of the mail content began with 'Do you have a cute kid?'

If you haven't guessed as yet, it was a photo contest invite. The winners are promised modelling opportunities, city trips and stardom tours (whatever that implies) apart from other goodies, that in my mind, would be typically useless to a baby really.

So, what's the big fuss about, you ask. 

Well it is this. Ofcourse I have a cute kid and just in case you didn't know I also find her the cutest. And I say it unabashedly because I know every mother feels that way about her baby. My problem is how will you judge which kid is cuter than the other. Even before motherhood happened, I found all children equally adorable. I couldn't ever compare and sorry you big-baby products-corporate, I refuse to let you judge my baby.

Actually, most baby photo contests put me off completely, and what irritates me even more is when parents rush in to send pictures of their baby, making such contests a huge roaring success for the advertising companies. The final nail in the coffin - when you get that mail or FB message saying, "please vote for my baby". Since, a personal response befitting my true feelings would be downright rude, here's a general message for all parents and parents-to-be:

"Dear mommy/daddy, Your little munchkin is absolutely gorgeous. There are no ifs and buts to that statement. If I could, I'd "like" the picture a trillion times and more (because apparently unique likes are not what counts) so that your baby wins the contest, but you know what I am thinking? I am thinking why would you want to make your apple-pie "compete" for a victory that's already under his/her belt. You look at your babe and tell me if he/she is not the sweetest cherub ever? That modelling contract, that hollywood tour, and that personal website - all will happen when they have to. As of now, keep your camera busy and capture the fleeting childhood the best you can - they will be a constant source of joy now and forever for you and all your near and dear ones - why let advertisers make hay at your expense?"