8....7....

Weeks 31 & 32 were Bliss Central, but I was holding off on posting until we had our growth scan at 32 + 3 today *just in case*. A was super busy with work, and even had to go to Mumbai one day, with a day's notice. All of that just made the times that he WAS at home that much more valuable. There was a lot of lazing around, and, as the baby stuff we ordered online started coming in, nightly readings of The Very Hungry Caterpillar aimed at my belly. We ordered a lot of stuff online because the Great Online Shopping Festival had some amazing discounts, and some of it is still trickling in. We keep marvelling at how tiny the newborn sizes are. I look at those onesies and think - oh yeah, I think I can push out something THAT size! Far more comforting than the images of pumpkins and watermelons that Baby Center and the like keep projecting. 

My stomach's really come into its own lately... there are some baby positions that actually make me look unquestionably pregnant, for the first time. I'm still worried about pre-term labour just because everyone else I know had their babies early. I don't want an early baby! I think, anyway. I'm still not uncomfortable, or even doing the pregnant-waddle, but I hear it all starts to get painful four weeks from now, at 36 weeks. I attended a Lamaze class - A couldn't come, he had an investor meeting - and realized I needed to start putting together the highlights of birthing related material for him to look at when he's free. Maybe next week. This week I was busy working on his birthday surprises. It's his last one before he becomes a father, so I wanted to make it count. Among other things, I like the memory capsule I made for him - it has photos, dates, celebration details, songs, videos, love letters - all the stuff that's gone into making the two of us US. Life may change after the baby, so I thought it was helpful to store it all away for easy reference.

And now, coming to the scan. It's gotten me kind of annoyed, to be very honest. The last time we had a scan, about a month ago, the baby was measuring average overall, but in the lower percentiles for abdomen size & fetal length. I was told to eat more protein, and cut down on sugar, since it looked like I was gaining weight, but the baby wasn't. I was SPECIFICALLY asked to eat 6 Threptin biscuits a day, among other things. So I dutifully measured 80 grams of protein a day - not easy when you're a non-egg eating vegetarian - and forced it all down, despite never even being hungry. That much protein, every single day, is just vile, even when your stomach isn't the size of a pea. And I exercised, and I did yoga, and I was generally exemplary. 

I went in today, really nervous, because as I said, I'm worried about preterm labour. The baby's sizes have increased percentile wise, and it weighs almost 2kgs now, but I was told, "Can you start eating eggs, maybe? You've only put on 450 grams. The baby's gaining weight independent of your weight gain." And then, the statement that really annoyed me, "Don't eat Threptin, it has sugar in it." And also, "Your amniotic fluid levels are on the average side for this week of pregnancy, but if you continue at this rate, they'll be low by week 36, so you need to drink more water."

Goootcha. So to reiterate, every day, I'll now be eating: 2 idlis for breakfast, 10 almonds, a cup of legumes with sprouts, a glass of milk with protein shake in it, a protein pill, two servings of fruits, one serving of vegetables with 3 rotis, buttermilk with millet flour mixed in it, another helping of legumes, a carrot, another serving of vegetables with 3 rotis, curd, and somehow in between all that you want me to drink 3 liters of water? Not to mention iron pills twice a day, calcium once a day, and B12 once a day. 

It's bloody frustrating. Not to have the effort that I'm putting in acknowledged (A does, all the time, but I mean by my doctor). To see-saw back and forth on this, where if I put on weight, I'm at risk for gestational diabetes, and if I don't, then I'm not getting enough protein. Too many effing scans. I feel like we're constantly paranoid about what may happen. And I just want this baby out of me so that I don't have someone monitoring my diet to this crazy extent. 

Week 30 or T-9!

We're down to single-digit weekly countdowns and fortnightly doctors visits now!

Should I resent my five minute appointments? It's great that there's nothing to complain about, but it always feels like such a waste of time to go in and hear that nothing's changed. On the other hand, some people really enjoy that reassurance. My husband, for instance, loves our appointments though they've rarely lasted longer than 15 minutes. What I like about fortnightly appointments is that it gives me a greater incentive not to cheat on my diet or exercise. When my next appointment was a month away, I'd give in to temptation more often, but now I'm vigilant about treats.

I'm still eating like I'm on probation for gestational diabetes, though the test results came back and my glucose level is well within the normal level. More importantly, I'm trying to get in my 80gms of protein a day. That's more difficult, since I don't eat eggs or meat. So 80 grams of protein = 2 cups of yellow daal, 2 cups of green sprouts, 2 glasses of milk, 1 glass of buttermilk with 2 tablespoons of millet flour in it, and 6 Threptin biscuits... in addition to 3 regular meals, 5 helpings of fruits/veggies, and 8-10 glasses of water. 

I feel like I'm always eating, or prepping food to eat, or thinking about what to eat. Also, while I enjoy eating healthily, I hate sprouts, and millet flour triggers my gag instinct. Every time I look into a bowl of sprouts, I wince thinking nine weeks to go = more than 2 months to go. Soon may they fly by.

I'm staying awake till 11pm-12am again, although I have a hard time waking up before 7am. Mostly, I'm sleeping pretty well though. A woke up before me the other day, and said my belly was dancing all over the place - he had no idea how I slept through it all. I guess I've gotten used to the baby kicking by now, and getting in as much sleep as I can, while I can :) I enjoyed hearing about "his" moment feeling the baby kick while I was oblivious though - it feels like the reverse is so often true that this was a really special moment. Especially for A, who worries that the start-up takes up too much of his mind space.

What can I say? I'm low maintenance. It's a chicken-and-egg quandary - I'm not sure if I don't complain because I have nothing to complain about or vice versa, I just know that pregnancy so far has been really easy. One more week with no duck waddle, whoop! A and I had a lie-in yesterday. All day. It's the kind of thing we won't get to do with a kid, and which we really enjoy doing, just the two of us. We binge-watched The Good Wife, ate a lot of cheese, and were generally happy. This morning, A said, "It's not that the job's hard, or the work's repetitive or anything... it's just relative to being with you, everything sucks." D'aww :) That means a lot given how much he loves his company.

I started one DIY project for the nursery last week. I should really finish it up today/tomorrow. Not to mention start shopping for the baby. I think I'll put in my first order for baby books today.

My friend, who was due to have a baby at Christmas, had him three weeks early! Both of them are doing well. She was strong enough to be on Whatsapp for much of the super long labour, it was very impressive! As for me, I'm worrying about preterm labour now. I ideally want this baby to come slightly late, on Feb 17. That way, we'd have conceived the baby at our wedding anniversary, and had it at our engagement anniversary :) But honestly, any day after Feb 11 will do. 

I have a growth scan scheduled two weeks from now, which I'm anxious about. Part of the reason why I'm being diligent about protein is because our baby's slightly on the small side. Fingers crossed for an average sized baby at our next scan! 

Week 29: Pre-Launch Party for Baby A

A launched his website this week! The response has been overwhelming, especially considering it's still a pre-launch at this stage, that'll be fully ready in a fortnight. We also had a pre-launch party for Baby #2, as I refer to ours, since A's company's clearly the first born. My family threw us the South Indian version of the baby shower. This doesn't resemble any other shower, so here are some highlights of the valaikappu & seemantham function:

- Since we were combining some religious rituals (seemantham, homam) with the social shower (valaikappu), it had to be held in month six or eight. The social function alone is held in months five or seven. We held mine at the start of the eighth month, and I blessed my doctor for all the exercise she's been making me do, because all the sitting cross-legged on the floor & jumping up would have done me in otherwise. It's a workout like you wouldn't believe.

- The 'auspicious' time for the ritual was deemed to be before 6am. That is, we had to get started at around 5.15am. And, with breaks, we'd end at around 11.30am. Also, there were to be 4 outfit changes in that time; 3 of which I didn't know how to get on. In my defense, very few people do. These are special, long, nine-yards sarees that married women get to wear for religious functions in their own households, so the opportunities to wear them are somewhat limited. 

Since I had to rely on someone else to get my sari on, I had to wake up at... wait for it... 3am, and bathe. Then, apart from the sari, someone had to do my hair up the way it was at our wedding - a long plait down my back, with jewels and flowers all woven in. 

- The valaikappu, or social function, is a women's thing, where my mum kicked off the proceedings. She put three bangles, or kappus, on each hand - one made of a neem stick, one made of gold, and one made of silver. The gold & silver ones will be melted and made into jewellery for the baby once it's born. After this, several relatives took turns putting multicoloured glass bangles on my hands, until there were 43 glass bangles in all. These are technically not supposed to come off till the delivery, but there's no way I can manage that. I do have a nice DIY project planned for the nursery with them though, so it's not like they'll go to waste. 

- After breakfast and an outfit change, we had a homam, a ceremonial ritual where A & I had to do whatever the priest told us to - chiefly repeat a lot of prayers. A actually did most of what was required. After a while, I was even told to go sit on a chair leaving him alone in front of the prayer space. Interesting to note that even in pregnancy, patriarchy doesn't waver, and it's still the male who's responsible for the baby's wellbeing. The most memorable part of the homam was being led to a chair, and having A dunk a bucket full of water over my head. The Ice Bucket Challenge, Iyer style. Bangalore's about 16 degrees, so even with a bit of warm water mixed in, this is probably the reason I've been sniffling and sore-throaty since. A was super apologetic, poor thing.

- I had about ten minutes to change out of the wet sari and everything else, into yet another nine yards sari. About ten people worked on me, while I tried not to get my drippy hair on the silk sari. I assume this is a way to stave off any modesty you may have about showing your body to strangers pre-labour. Oddly enough, I didn't really care, as any strange bulges can happily be attributed to the baby. More chanting and so on followed, again mostly led by A. Then we had everyone shower akshatham and blessings on us - that's over fifty people throwing rice our way. And in yet another weird tradition unique to Tams, A was asked to squeeze milk into my nostril. The priest kept checking, "Did it go in? No, really?" We both quickly assured him it had.

- Everyone who came gifted us money, sweets, and fruits. The sweets trigger my diabetes alarm, though the fruits are much appreciated; especially as I'm going through three a day in an attempt to keep up my fiber (did I mention I had a hemorrhoid erupt when I woke up at 3am? I'm surprised I made it through the day). And arr, I have even more gold now. I did ask my parents to invest in bond certificates or something else instead, but they refused to listen and bought me a bracelet as well. Plus my maternal uncle gifted me a beautiful set of long gold earrings that look exactly like the fake jewellery I wear more frequently. 

- Although everything wrapped up by noon, there was another outfit change, some rituals from A's side of the family, a couple more hours of socializing, photo taking, and at least trying to help my parents as they took care of all the work that had to be done. And then it took an hour to undo my hair and pack all the clothes and jewellery up. Suffice to say everyone was in bed by 4pm in an attempt to recover!! 

I should have been more shattered, but was riding on adrenaline. And, honestly, though over fifty people showed up, I really did know and like everyone there - unlike at the wedding where faces started to blur into each other as over seven hundred people came. Knowing everyone and getting to talk to each of them made the whole day feel quite personal and relevant. A & I were in our best 'we're-a-team' mode and kept pulling faces to make each other laugh, apart from trading jokes and running interference if the other person looked like they needed rescuing. At the end of it all, seated in front of the priest and all, we shared a fist bump. I'm glad the videographer recorded that bit :D

Week 28: Hello, Baby!

I think I'm tired, but I just can't seem to (a) get to sleep, (b) stay asleep, (c) wake up, or (d) get out of bed. It's like a very weird episode of Rip Van Winkle here.

I can't help thinking that if I just pushed myself, I'd get out of bed despite the exhaustion. I put that hypothesis to test with a morning show of Interstellar - the early show was the only one which had tickets available on a special 4D screen. I managed the movie, but I draaaagged myself through the rest of the day. So ok, this staying in bed for an hour longer in the mornings (probably) isn't just me being lazy/self-indulgent then.

There was a bit more 4D in my week - our first ever non-2D scan! It was a freebie I snagged off an internet ad, in addition to getting 20% off on the scan. Remarketing is awesome. This was our 28 week growth scan, and our first one at the hospital where I'll deliver. It's the best scan I've ever done, and made me really glad we chose this hospital. First of all, they actually started the scan on time, instead of making me wait for an hour - that's a first. Second, they have a big flatscreen TV on which images are beamed, so that you & your partner see exactly what the doctor's seeing. And third, 4D! A & I chorused our amazement as Chubster 'smiled', waved, and rubbed its eyes.

The sonographer kept saying how cute & chubby the baby was (although it weighed the requisite 1.16kg), and that it seemed to love the camera. No idea where it got either of those traits from, certainly not either of us! We got some lovely snapshots to take home as well as a video CD - another first. God, I love The Birthplace. If you're in Hyderabad, I highly recommend it, pricey as it is.

I sent the pics to my parents and A's parents in the next five minutes. Mine were excited ('Ooh, it looks like a boy! It looks like YOU!' Not sure if there's an insult in there somewhere, but I'll take it!) while A's just didn't respond. Later that night, he called them, and they berated him for sharing them, since it could be bad luck. I'd had a busy evening catching up on work, but since they brought it up, I messaged my parents and announced my intention to send it to close relatives - and they emphatically vetoed the idea too.

How is this their reaction to seeing their grandchildren for the first time?? Indian superstitions are all well and good, but they inject an unnecessary amount of fear and just suck the joy out of everything. Neither of us takes our parents' reactions personally when it comes to this stuff, but man, you'd think they'd think twice before speaking. We certainly do. We tiptoe around their belief systems all the time, worried about offending them. It's a damn shame that no Indian parent returns the courtesy, or even considers doing so. 

The weird thing is they ignore the fears they SHOULD have. Such as the fact that eating 'for two' will result in an unhealthy pregnancy. Or that 'walking slowly' doesn't amount to exercise. While I haven't been eating more than I should be, I've been guilty of not eating my sprouts daily, or replacing my walk-for-exercise with my walk-to-work. So I'm currently freaking out about the blood sugar tests I need to take this week. While baby & I are both well within the accepted weight range, I put on more weight last month than I typically do - and the weight seems to have stayed on me, rather than making the baby fatter. So I need to take a LOT more protein to try to bulk it up, rather than myself. And meanwhile, there are the dreaded tests. Fingers crossed.

Weeks 26 & 27: FINALLY saying goodbye to the second trimester!

You know when you get married, or rather, right before you get married, everyone tells you the first year will be the hardest? Similarly with the first trimester. Everyone's chock-full of horror stories about the nausea and the exhaustion and the hormones and... 

I'm going to be the voice for the exceptions, and tell you that in my case, the first year of marriage was an absolute honeymoon-period-daze of awesomeness. The second year, that's when the gloves came off. Similarly, my first trimester was fiiiine. Which made the second trimester all the more surprising. Everyone assured me it would be all energy bursts and unicorn kisses. Yeah, right.

In the first half of this trimester, there was a doomsday-ish fear. In the first trimester, as long as I was still falling asleep by 9pm, I knew something else probably controlled my body. In the second, I was back to my usual self, my stomach was flat (well, flattish, let's be honest), and there was no sign of life from within. How do you know there's still a baby in there?? Answer: you don't, until the nerve wracking 20-week TIFFA scan when each of the baby's organs are measured for any problems. Longest 6 weeks of my life, especially as we'd just started telling people about the baby, and I kept worrying we'd jinx it.

I divide the second trimester into BT & AT - Before TIFFA & After TIFFA. The former period was Dazed Denial. The latter was Crazy Town. I recently found myself Googling 'divorces in the second trimester,' amongst other things. Not because I wanted one, but because I was convinced my husband would. I tear up even more than usual. And eeeeverything's grounds for a fight! Nor is it only me that's emotional. A's equally stressed about the baby, especially since he can't feel it kicking away. So he's just as quick to snap. And have I mentioned that we shifted countries and changed careers and are still setting up a new home? Both of us are in the right, and in the wrong, with pretty much anything we're ranting about. The whole Oprah act of dissecting the argument empathetically so we can forgive each other gets super emotionally draining super fast. And frankly, we just don't have the time for it. So it's a good thing we're chilled out people who like each other very much.

I can't begin to imagine the pressure on a relationship that hasn't had the time to form solid roots. Not to mention a relationship with other people thrown in, like in-laws, or other relatives. I've been watching my pregnancy forums & boards, and I've noticed more break-up stories, complaints, and hormonal attacks than ever before. So yes, the second trimester may not have you physically puking, but emotionally, it's a whole other story, at least for a couple of weeks. Which isn't to say that it doesn't have its moments. The baby kicking is all kinds of awesome. And if you experienced nausea etc in the first trimester, I'm told it finally lets up now, much to everyone's joy. But for me, following on the heels of an uneventful first trimester, the second one was a slap that proved I wasn't completely immune to hormonal changes.

The good news is that it ends. Moving into our third trimester, we're starting to invest our energy in the practical stuff. Over the last two weeks, A & I took four prenatal classes together. We find the same things helpful and outrageous (one doctor actually said, "They deliver breech babies naturally in the West because they don't care if the baby dies there. You couldn't pay me to deliver my baby in the US!"). We both acknowledge that despite this baby being very much planned and even more wanted, we'd really like some more time together, just the two of us. But we also know that that's what we'll always want. We're talking to each other, and, more importantly, listening to each other again. I think it's safe to say the second trimester suckiness has passed. I'm excited to see what the third brings!

Week 25: Blow-ups (The Belly Kind & Otherwise)

I was freaking out a little about my next weigh-in because I'd lost a tiny bit of weight at my last appointment... but I just noticed my belly button's now an outie!! I know this isn't the least attractive bodily quirk I'll go through during this whole pregnancy + labour thing, but it's freaking me out! On the bright side, I figure I must have put on weight if it ballooned itself out like that :) Almost in time for the last trimester, and about time too. 

As for how I put it on - well, it was my birthday. There was cake. Also, there was shifting to our own house (finally!). And as a result of that + shopping to set it up + running errands for it in general, there hasn't been any time to go for my daily walk. I walk plenty, just not in my trainers. Technically this house is big enough to do laps in by itself. We mostly use just one wing and ignore the other. That's got to come in handy when we have our parents over post-baby though. It's much quieter out here. The baby seems to move around a lot more when we're near A's parents' place, where there's more hustle and bustle.

This week's been a bit exhausting, and I've been very impressed with myself for not crashing. I've been working hard, staying up late, waking up early, doing a lot of cleaning up, and I even put aside pregnancy brain long enough to stay up till 2am, go out with friends the next day, and win at cards! (I don't even like cards, this is only the second time I've ever played - and the second time I won too! You'd think I'd like it more).

Mostly though, it's been exhausting because of the shifting thing. That always seems to come with drama; mostly because my husband and I have very different personality types. We had a bit of a blow-up, which pissed me off because it happened on my birthday. And not just any birthday, but my last one with just us. Not to mention my 28th, on the 28th, making it a silver or a gold birthday or whatever. Anyway, I don't usually hold out for big gifts or extravagant gestures, but I do kind of like my world to be nicer to me than usual. So it really annoyed me that he not just shouted at me, but stalked off in the middle of the road, saying I could take care of stuff on my own. Quite apart from it being my birthday etc, what happened to being protective because I'm pregnant?? Sometimes I think I'm too low maintenance about this being pregnant thing (last week, he asked if I wanted to go out for drinks... he'd literally forgotten I was carrying his child).

It wasn't the worst fight we've ever had, and it was stupid because we invariably have a bit of a grumpy shout whenever we move. Plus, objectively speaking, he was right to be mad because I had ditzed out. So it's not a big deal at all, except for the timing of it. It made it super awkward when people called up and asked what we were doing to celebrate, because typically, he whisks me away somewhere and does something really special, so they get a Nicholas Sparks worthy story when they ask. 

He did take me out for a really really nice dinner overlooking a lake, and that was lovely. But it was not the best birthday I've ever had, and it's not one I'm likely to forget, even if I do forgive him. Aaaand that's week 25. This week also marks four years since we officially got the go-ahead to get married from both our families :) Egos and yelling aside, I wouldn't change it for the world.

Weeks 23 & 24: Getting to V-Day

After a couple of months of taking it easy because my body refused to push itself, I'd forgotten what I was capable of. But now, my energy's back with a vengeance... long may it last.

I've been freelancing for about four clients at a time. I have to say, it's addictive. I didn't realize I missed work until I started doing it again. How weird is that? I'm the only person I know who goes off leave when I should be taking it. My contracts last until the end of the year, so we'll see how I feel then.

Additionally, I've been walking hard - enough to lose a bit of weight over the last month, despite eating so much over the festival season. This week, we took my mother in law to the clinic with us. I was due for a tetanus shot, and my parents + in-laws were oddly apprehensive. Even the nurse said, "This may hurt for a minute." 

I just looked at them incredulously, because, hello, labour pains coming up! I'm still not sure what the fuss was about, because the injection didn't hurt any more than usual (ie: not at all). As a bonus, I got it on my bum rather than on my arm, which is plentifully padded at the moment!

The best thing about my appointment was hearing that I most likely don't need to monitor my diet so carefully. We'll check again next month, but if my weight gain continues to be moderate with no sudden rushes, it seems unlikely that I'll be a candidate for gestational diabetes, despite the genetic disadvantage of my mum having Type II. 

The baby's kicking harder than ever - or maybe it's just bigger than ever. It adapted surprisingly well to Diwali - that's the festival in India with loud firecrackers going off pretty much non-stop for two to three days. I was expecting a lot of frenzied movement, but the baby serenely moved as much or as little as ever. I suppose it helps that we've been here since time its ear drums started to develop!

And somewhere in between all that, we got to Viability Week. People on the same due-date forums as me have started having babies already! While I certainly wouldn't want that for myself, it feels great to know that all of their babies are fighting hard, and looking good. Which just reinforces that technically, this baby's already as good as here. 

Despite that, my husband asked if I wanted to hang out over some beers last week, before realizing why that couldn't happen. So clearly this impending parenthood thing isn't really real yet :)

Week 22: Where Nothing Much Happens, So I Get All Poetic

I have an anterior placenta at the moment. They tell me it can shift, and often does, before the final trimester. But for now, it's like a thick cushion between my baby and my belly. No 'flutterings' or 'sucker-punches' for me. I feel other things instead.

Pacman-speed zip-zapping. Thunder-cloud rumbles. Fizz-bubbles dancing to the surface. A drumroll. The quick up & down swoop of planes taking off without warning. Thumps like my heart's shifted base to my stomach, and is beating at double-time (well, actually, that's exactly what pregnancy feels like in general). Muffled but persistent knocks as the baby rams against me. It wants out! 

I feel life already, and a personality. But maybe I'm reading too much into this. This week, A was able to feel the baby for the first time - but he's still not absolutely sure he didn't just imagine it. There's a heady glee at being the only one to feel the baby, and curiosity to see what it looks like on the other side.

I've known this baby for all its life, but I don't really know it at all. I'm eager to be introduced, to introduce it to the world, and to introduce my world to it. To find out if it's a boy or a girl, so I can stop calling it 'it,' and start doing some real shopping. For the baby and for me. 

Surely I can't stay this size forever? A couple of door-to-door people came over, and asked if I was a student, and if my parents were home. I've teetered on the edge of a recognizable bump for ages now. The shop assistant made my day when he gestured, 'S?' But only an 'L' fits over my stomach, not to mention my chest.  Even if I still need to tell people I'm pregnant because they don't notice, I feel slightly out of breath all the time, and much bigger than before. My belly itches constantly - do stretch marks lurk underneath? Like a blown-up balloon, I'll only be able to tell when I deflate.

We 'inaugurated' the new house with a traditional housewarming ritual this week, but won't actually move in till the end of the month. The Festival of Lights is coming up, so it won't make sense to shift before that. In the meanwhile, we've been furniture shopping, both offline and online, and it's all starting to come together. I'm excited to see how it all looks!

Baby Loss Awareness Week

I read about Matilda Mae two years ago. Ever since, when people talk about babies, her face pops into my head. She is everything you'd imagine a baby to be. Gurgling, chubby, smiling. Full of life. Plump arms outstretched to embrace the world.

Not. Dead.

Baby Loss Awareness Week breaks my heart.

I read about the infants who should be here. Each one is etched into the hearts of those who knew them, but so few people get the chance to. It's unfair. It's cruel. I can't understand it.

I first encountered child mortality in a poem. And I thought - it isn't just the baby that dies. Hope does, too.

Over time, this cloud has circled closer to me, bearing down on people I care about. Friends have mourned, and fought to keep their marriages intact. They have battled depression, and moved on as best as they could. And through it all, despite the pain, no one talks about it.

Common wisdom says, "It will only make it worse."

Will it? Will it really make it worse to let it all out? Or does it just make it worse for those around the bereaved who don't know how they can help?

I don't know what to say. I can't begin to imagine the pain. But I do know this: a baby comes alive to its parents the minute they see two lines on a stick. Two months, six months, nine months after conception; one week, three weeks, three months after it's born. Some babies may not live among us for long. But we weave dreams of an entire lifetime for them the minute we know they exist. They can never be forgotten. Each was a person, full to the brim with possibilities and potential.

Light a candle for the Wave of Light this Wednesday. And remember the babies who should be among us, in more than just our memories.

Week 21: Growing An Indian Baby

It's festival time in India! Though we're not celebrating this year as A's grandmother passed away recently, it still means holidays from work, and time to visit with the (extended) family. It's a sad time to have to watch my sugar intake, there are so many delicious sweets and fried things on offer. And... sigh, the festival of lights is coming up, not to mention my birthday. A birthday without cake? I suppose I'll just have to console myself with a slice of cheese. It's a good thing I'm easily pleased.

It's been a rollercoaster week, with the Hyderabad vs. Bangalore debate rearing its head again (it takes a lot of zen-like calmness to start up a company - or to be married to someone who is!). We had the debate, resolved it after much talk, went house hunting, found one, and even signed the lease. In. A. Week. The nice thing is, in between all this uncertainty, that we went right back to the lane where we used to live three years ago... and while there were no empty houses in our old building, there was a beautiful 1,650sft 3-bedroom apartment in the flat right next to it. Our old maid offered to come around, our old neighbours are still exactly where they were before, even the auto drivers on the street recognize us! (As I was telling A, this is quite an achievement given he was meant to be using corporate transport, rather than autos).

We had a very happy run on that road, even though we only lived there for a year, right after we were married. So I'm looking forward to some sort of stability as we move back there over the next couple of weeks. It doesn't look like we'll be there any sooner, because our parents need to pick a 'good date to move in', by which time the house needs to have a stove so I can boil some milk first thing, again, for good luck.

Quite honestly, I find all the start-up and pregnancy related changes come more naturally than the changes involved with being back in India. We've gotten used to being an individual unit, unbound by traditions, and familiarity with a ritual is a different ball game from actually following it, with an audience of our families.

For instance, there was a lunar eclipse on the last day of my 21st week. This brought on superstitions galore. From 2:30 till 8pm, I was to stay at home, and, preferably, lie still, as looking at the eclipse (not that that's even humanly possible with the naked eye) could result in a baby with a deformity. I was also not to touch my face, belly etc, since this could result in birthmarks, cleft lips, and the like. At 7:30pm, I was to have a bath before eating/drinking anything.

For those who aren't familiar with Indian mythology - all these precautions are in place because eclipses are believed to be caused by the evil influence of Rahu-Ketu. Rahu was a demon who stole the nectar of immortality from the Gods. However, as he started drinking it, Surya & Chandra (the sun and the moon) noticed him, and informed one of the super-Gods, Vishnu, who quickly flung a weapon at Rahu, severing his head from his body before the nectar could go past his throat. The severed head, now immortal, angrily swallowed the sun. The decapitated body, called Ketu, swallowed the moon. They continue to do so at regular intervals, causing eclipses. The sun & moon always manage to escape through the holes in Rahu's head & Ketu's body, but in the brief intervals of darkness, Rahu & Ketu's inauspicious forces are at large. Cue ominous music.

There's more to the story, and it's all fascinating, but, more importantly, how do I feel about all this? It's complicated. On the one hand, it's easy for me to indulge people who believe this stuff on one afternoon. On the other hand, I can't help thinking how insensitive beliefs like these are. An eclipse is in no way responsible for forming your baby, and to suggest that a woman born with a so-called less than perfect infant could have taken precautions to avoid 'defects' is ridiculously rude, apart from being credulous. 

Not drinking or eating for 5 hours, on the other hand, could very well lead to dizziness, at the very least. That is how lunar eclipses can harm pregnant women in India. And Rahu & Ketu aren't the ones responsible, either.

...But I'm a chicken, and I stayed in, although I used the time to write, rather than sleep. However, this was just another reminder that I need to figure out boundaries before our baby's born. It's all very well giving in myself when I don't have to be anyone's role model, but I don't want to raise another generation that pleases everyone else just because it's easier to do so.

Week 20: Half-way there!

Our first scan in India! As I've mentioned before, I was worried the doctor would say there wasn't a baby inside any more, and I'd just been putting on weight because of all the yummy food I was eating. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. All continues to look normal, with the baby now weighing 330 grams (give/take 40) which is perfect for late in the 20th week.

The baby was consistently 3 days behind on all my other scans to date, so while a growth spurt is great news, it also makes me slightly concerned about the possibility of gestational diabetes. My mum was diagnosed with Type II which means I'm more susceptible. I've been cutting back on rice/sweets and upping the ante on my exercising since. The good news is that I was never particularly fond of either when I was in Toronto, so it's really only the last month that I've been eating 'Indian-style.'

My blood glucose levels in the first trimester always came back normal - but those were non-stress tests as we weren't aware of my mum's history then. They'll have to check a bit more closely in the next 4-8 weeks, especially given my recent rapid weight gain in India - I now weigh 56 kilos! Fingers crossed GD will pass me over... I don't have any of the other risk factors, since I'm 27, Asian, and at a perfect BMI - far closer to under than overweight. 

The scan also showed an anterior placenta; not of concern in itself as it isn't low-lying, but it explains why the baby's movements haven't gotten much stronger/more consistent, despite my starting to feel them fairly early on. We watched a movie in the theatre last night, and the baby was SO confused. It kept ramming at my front trying to get to the source of the noise! 

In other happy news, I think we've narrowed down a doctor. We've decided to stay in Hyderabad for now, and so we were considering 2 hospitals in particular. We 'auditioned' the doctors we'd been recommended at each, and finally came to a decision we're happy with. So that feels like a step towards permanancy in India, when everything else is still a bit up in the air - we're going to try finding a house etc next week.

Meanwhile, with an all-clear signal at 20 weeks, I'm finally telling the last few people whom I wanted to tell in person! Good times all around.

Week 19: Home Alone(ish)

This has been a quiet week. A's in Bangalore, and I've stayed back in Hyderabad. Getting on a night train four times in three weeks just seemed like too much... especially with the anomaly scan coming up. We haven't had a scan since week 13, so I'm (irrationally) anxious not to jinx it. He went and visited my parents and reassured me that all's well with my mum - or as well as can be. Fingers crossed.

I've been staying with the in-laws, who really do pamper me. I roll out of bed and am greeted with nuts and milk. Three huge meals follow, interspersed with lots of lovely treats. They spoil their grandchild more than I would - chocolate and sweets galore are passed on through me! The baby loves it, of course. It shoots around my stomach like a character out of Pacman afterwards. Ah, sugar highs. Always amusing.

In some ways, their home's really familiar. We moved a lot of our furniture there when we shifted to Toronto, so we now get to use 'our' dining table, or sleep in 'our' bed, albeit in a different house. 

Every time I sit in their hall, I smile at a very unusual center table. A & I bought it when I wanted us to have floor-level seating in our living room, and it's the single most expensive piece of furniture I've ever invested in. It's not even particularly practical (well, unless you're playing poker), but my God, it looked gorgeous in our house. Needless to say, the in-laws use it as a coffee table and sit on sensible couches, but it reminds me of the first ever house A & I set up.

For the last couple of days, the in-laws have both stayed home from work so that I 'don't get bored.' This is really sweet of them. I've been feeling a bit guilty because I've been on a writing spree where the world kind of shuts down around me. Hurrah for the mythical second trimester burst of energy, it finally seems to have set in!

... Mind you, it usually only arrives midway through the day. I've been waking up rather reluctantly. I go to bed at 10 and wait optimistically. I'm usually awake at 1, 3, 5, and 6. When the alarm goes off at 7:30, I want to throttle it. I don't do afternoon naps, so it's a pain when I don't sleep well in the night. I think the frequent wake-ups are because I'm wary about sleeping on my back. I start off on my left side, as prescribed, and wake up every so often to check if I'm still on my side. Oh well, if I get used to this routine, I'm sure I'll find it easier to wake up and feed the baby when I have to!

I've started venturing out on walks this week. I used to walk at least 3-4km in Toronto every day, but I haven't gone out too much since I moved to Hyderabad. That's mostly because we've been staying at the in-laws' place - I don't know the area too well, there's a TON of traffic (even for India!), no pavements, and, I hear, sidey guys. I compromised by going out before the sun sets, and wearing very conservative clothes. I can't say I enjoy the walks very much, but I'm happy to be out and about. The leg cramps I occasionally woke up to have disappeared.  

Next week, we'll hit the half-way mark! I look down at my stomach and wonder if it will double by the time we're through. I can't wait :)

Is this real life?

If I were writing a novel based on my pregnancy so far, any sane editor would tell me not to have quite so much going on - it just isn't realistic.

First, I quit my job, and travelled around for four months - I was pregnant for three of them. Then, my husband quit his job because he wanted to start his own company. His grandmother died before we could tell her we were having a baby. We moved back to India, and are trying to get used to it all. My mother fell sick and had to be operated on. And lately, it seems like my in-laws are determined to have us stay with them until the baby's born - an idea that really doesn't fit in with our plans.

Yesterday, A discovered why they were pushing so hard. It turns out my mum's surgery had been more serious than they'd let on. My family and my in-laws had decided it was best not to worry us with the news - they had to remove a couple of her toes. 

They only told A yesterday, after she was well out of any danger. He tells me she's okay now. But how is losing two toes okay, really? Objectively, I know it's better than losing her entire foot. She can still walk, and she assures me that she's not in any pain. In fact, she's characteristically cheerful about it all. 

But she turned sixty this month. She still has a good thirty to forty years of healthy living in her. It's heartbreaking to think that she won't be able to run around as I'm used to seeing her doing. It's such an integral part of her personality.

For the most part, I'm okay. She is, so how could I not be? But I think of her playing 'ten little fingers' with my niece. I think of a wedding photo where my dad slid on her toe ring. I think of morning walks on the beach, and treks through bazaars doing ardent shopping. And I mourn those toes, despite never having spared them too much thought before this. 

On another note, much as I disagree with the families' decision to keep the surgery's outcome from me, I'm touched by how protective everyone is, and how eager to see that I'm taken care of. Despite it all, because of it, I'm reminded again how lucky I am.

Week 18: Limbo

This week, R and I are annoyed. We have been in limbo for too long, and not the peaceful kind we hope our baby's floating in, either. No, we've remained at my in-laws' place, not knowing which city we'll live in, not knowing which hospital we'll go with, not having a doctor to consult, not having a scan which shows us all is well. 

And all this in the most sweltering heat, where the dirt overflowing from the dustbins seems to smell ten times more potent! We miss Toronto even more than usual this week. It's a pain fighting to get anything done in India. You have to bargain with the auto driver... glare suspiciously at his meter, which is invariably faulty... and remind him not to go at full speed over various speed breakers. R has been worried about one particularly violent jostle that we experienced, and keeps asking me to tell him if I've felt the baby moving since.

We have been tense and easy to snap, mercifully not at each other. The bright side of all this, of course, is that things always seem better when it's just the two of us, laughing at whatever it was that annoyed us so greatly. The lines at the diagnostic clinic, where an old man was shoved out of the way by the most odious couple. The fact that you can't find a decent restroom even at a cafe that charges over $3 for a cup of coffee (the completely unjustified inflation of prices in India without any corresponding improvement in service levels or quality!) The bloody customer care people at any office who always want to ask their supervisor, and in turn THEIR supervisor before committing to any answer.

India does not bring out the best in us, perhaps because we know it too well. Even when we went to a premier hospital in Hyderabad to check it out, I wondered suspiciously if they'd quoted us a rather incredible fee of 2,50,000 for just the delivery, just because we'd said we recently moved back to India from Canada. If there were any pregnancy symptoms this week, they were overridden by all the symptoms of just being back in India.

To add to the tension, my mum's been in the hospital this week. She dropped me off at the train station earlier this month, and apparently got stuck in the rain for five minutes before finding a cab. As a result, her specially-made diabetic shoes frayed, and cut into her leg, and caused a bacterial infection that antibiotics didn't cure. The upshot of it was that it took a 2.5 hour surgery to clear the wound, and she's going to be in the hospital for five days. Rain water. I repeat, bloody India. I don't feel very patriotic this week.

The worst part? I can't believe it's 18 weeks, 2 weeks since the baby should theoretically be able to hear me, and I haven't started reading to it, or even spoken to it, especially. It's hearing honks and swearing, and all kinds of other nonsense. My mum hasn't had a chance to send out the revised family tree I made to include the baby, my DIY nursery projects haven't started up... it's all just wrong, and not what I'd planned at all. As I've said before, I believe any other babies we'll have will be adopted, so I've a tendency to take this stuff a bit more seriously than most.

This morning, I caught myself thinking, "But this time is supposed to be about me! The universe is supposed to kowtow to me!" Fortunately before I could get too drawn into my little cocoon of self-pity, I remembered that they say that about your wedding day, and the day you deliver your baby, and all kinds of other days besides, so I should probably just stuff the hussy fit. And I did. Perspective, perspective. Just a couple of weeks more and we'll know what's what.

I'd suspect all my moodiness was just down to pregnancy hormones if R didn't seem equally put out. We desperately need a house of our own, and our new normal. Next week, R goes to Bangalore again - after thinking it over, I decided I really didn't feel up to the journey - and will hopefully have an answer on which city we settle down in by the end of the week.  

And meanwhile, when things seem particularly depressing, we've taken to sneaking in a pakoda or a paneer puff, or whatever else reminds us that India is a very special place, where the food, at least, always tastes like heaven. 

Week 17: Maybe Baby

The underlying theme this week has been, "Is there really a baby in there?" I woke up one morning, panicking at the feel of the flat stomach under my hand (as if I ever had a flat stomach pre-pregnancy, but whatever), and started Googling to see if there were possibly others who were still not showing 17 weeks in. How could you NOT show something the size of an apple? And yes, I've felt the occasional flutter, but I'm now convinced that it's just gas. I then woke up my husband to check what he thought. He was remarkably patient for someone who was woken up at 5am.

On the bright side, later in the week, the maid asked my mother-in-law if I was pregnant, the first person to suspect it without being told! The maid in Chennai, on the other hand, asked my mum if I was home for college vacations, and a family friend asked if I was going to tuitions when I was out on a walk one morning. My friends and I recently had a good rant-fest about over-mothery mothers, after which I didn't feel that I could smoothly slip in that I was pregnant. So yes, all in all, I was thrilled to be at least questioned about a possible pregnancy.

The evening following my panic attack, I was changing into my pyjamas, and R gaped at how much bigger I was now. I suppose the hugeness is really not evident in the clever clothes I wear, but it's a bit harder to hide without the camouflage. Even then, it's my recurring worry that the doctors in India will just take a look at my scan and say there's no baby in there, and that I'm just getting fat/having leg cramps because of the copious amounts of rice and milk I've been force fed lately! I haven't been near a set of scales lately, but I estimate I weigh at least 53kgs by now (I was 49 pre-pregnancy) - the joys of never having had any morning sickness, and being more diligent about my milk intake :)

The joys of being back in India also continue - I get opinions and advice galore, most of which makes very little sense at all. Sit down more often. Don't walk so fast. You stand up too much. You're too thin. Don't wear jeans. This stuff stopped being amusing but I'm trying to channel R's patience, and also remembering not to bother with anyone's opinion other than my doctor's. 'You should eat for two,' in particular, usually makes me want to eat someone's head off - 230 extra calories a day! It's an extra sandwich, if that! Indians and their need to over-eat. And then we wonder why people don't lose their baby weight post pregnancy.

We were in Bangalore this week, so that R could get a sense of the VC scene/tech talent. When we first came to India, he wanted to spend a couple of weeks at his parents' place because then we'd definitely move to Bangalore. However, after coming here, he's not sure if Hyderabad's a better place - there are a couple of interesting leads on the incubator front, and he knows the landscape here a bit better. Plus, it's lots cheaper.

I'm usually pretty zen about uncertainty and change, but I am vaguely anxious about finding a doctor/hospital without knowing which city we'll be in. To cover our bases, I checked out a couple of hospitals in Bangalore. They charge between 80K & a little over a lakh for a normal delivery without epidurals etc - I miss my insurance more than ever. So those are the flip sides of the start-up dream so far - uncertainty and hospital prices. Subjectively, it may make me a bit emo at times, but objectively (which, thankfully, is more usually my state of mind), we can well afford it, and don't really have to make a decision right away as I can do a one-off anomaly scan at any hospital I want.

It was lovely having a place of our own in Bangalore for a week. The one real downside of not knowing where we're going to stay full time is that we're currently still at my in-laws' place. And while it's a really comfortable place, and they're super nice to me, it's weird staying with anyone other than R for very long when you're in your late twenties. Also, my friends are all on the other side of town, and trundling 20km one-way in an auto is not my idea of fun these days. Ah well. We'll have a decision one way or the other by the end of week 20.

Weeks 15 & 16: The Shift

Week 15 was our last week in Toronto, and the days following it were our first in India (in two different cities!) so it's little surprise that it's mid-way through week 17 before I found time to write about anything.

Our last week in Toronto was hard - I was running around, saying goodbye to my favourite places and people. It became ten times harder because I was so tired that I kept procrastinating on my plans, doing one or two things a day instead of the four or five I'd optimistically calendared in. No matter how many months pregnant I get, I can't seem to process that I will be slower and less capable of rushing around than I was previously. And so, even on my last morning in Toronto, I found myself rushing to the AGO and the Toronto Reference Library; shopping for farewell presents and for final burritos (Burrito Bandidos is the BOSS). 

There was a technical error on a certain airline provider's website, resulting in A & my seats not being together. I could have lived with that, but I could noooot have lived without an aisle seat with my need to visit the loo every hour or so. The woman at the Pearson airport was super helpful when she heard I was pregnant - she shifted things around so that we'd most likely be able to switch seats and sit together, and even waived our slightly excess baggage fare. Sadly, she assumed I would need my husband to be happy, when really, I'd also need the loo.

We explained to the gentleman sitting in the aisle that I'd need to get up a lot, so if he wanted to, he could switch to either window or middle. Out of a sense of chivalrousness, he insisted that he'd rather be disturbed himself, than have me getting up every time he needed the washroom. Fair enough. Sadly, he fell asleep, and stayed asleep for pretty much the entire flight. Twelve hours. I snuck past him a couple of times, because, much to my surprise, I managed to stick to my usual long-haul flight strategy. This is where I stay awake throughout the flight + the next day until I finally crash in the night. It combats jet lag, for sure, but staying awake for 36 hours plus isn't everyone's cup of tea.

I was just patting myself on the back when, without warning, I wiped out in India. I slept all afternoon, I slept all evening, and then, I slept through the night as well! If it had been just the first day, I would have understood it, but that's been the case all week. I wake up at 8am, start feeling sleepy by 2pm, sleep till 7pm, and am happy sleeping at 10pm again. I don't think this is jet lag, it's just lag. Welcome to week 16. Where's that mythical boost of energy I was promised in the second trimester?

Week 16's been fun, because it was the week when we finally told our parents, and some close relatives. At first, I wanted to take pictures of everyone's reactions and compile them into a collage for the nursery, but I soon realized that Indians' reactions aren't necessarily the most capturable on camera. Facial reactions may be subdued, but the hubbub of excitement that follows has been so genuine that it's had me beaming from ear to ear as if I just found out I was pregnant as well. (Side note: I finally got an answer to the question that's always plagued me. Will relatives always exclaim about how much weight you've lost, even if you know for a fact you've put it on, because there's an apple-sized baby inside of you? ...Yes. They will.)

Of course, being pregnant in India is very different from being pregnant in Toronto, to say the least. Everyone keeps telling me to sit down, and not to bend, and to eat fruits. Oh, and to stay at home, and maybe not wear jeans quite so often (like they even fit any more). On the bright side, everyone here seems to find it perfectly acceptable for me to sleep all day long. The other great piece of news is that kurtas have never looked better on me. I'm finally curvy enough for them to look the way the tailor probably intended. And they conveniently flow enough to hide the bump which is quite evident, at least to me, by now. 

I'm always surprised when people talk to me for hours and don't seem to notice that I've a bit of a kangaroo pouch situation on. I've eaten more rice in the last week than I probably eat in a month in Toronto, so that's also contributing. The heat + the rice are making me slightly breathless when I eat too fast. I'm not sure that's a pregnancy symptom though, I think it's just related to being South Indian!

The really exciting thing about week 16 though, is that I think I've felt the baby flutter a couple of times. Apparently he/she decided to move at the same time that we did :)

Week 14: Moving (Us, not the baby)

We had our last check-up with our family doctor in Toronto this week. She's seen us through a lot - way more than I thought she'd need to when we first got our health cards two years ago. I'm so happy we were in a country where sirens on ambulances mean something when we had an emergency last year. I'm happy I was proactively offered pap smears & breast cancer screenings. I'm elated to have seen our baby more often, already, than the clinics in India would have let us (and all for free). The OHIP system in Ontario is legendary. I'm going to miss it beyond belief.

That little ode aside, Santra (orange) is doing well. The last time we had a scan, Santra was measuring about a week behind - but he's now back on track and measuring nicely. I, on the other hand, haven't put on any weight in the last four weeks. This really surprised me because I feel a lot bigger. In certain clothes, you can see a blump - still more bloat than bump. Needless to say, I'm getting rid of those clothes :) 

We're packing to move to India at the moment. Despite all of R's protestations to the contrary, our luggage still fits in the bags we carried over when we came here - two suitcases and a carry on item + laptop bag each. I helped by giving away the bulk of my wardrobe. Hey, it's not like any of it will fit me for long anyway.

The doctor said most people don't put on much weight in their first trimester anyway, and that I'd gone from a respectable 48 last year to 51 so far, so she wasn't concerned. I don't think I weighed 48 for very long, but I can confidently say I went from juuust touching 50 to solidly 51 in the last 14 weeks. She also reassured me that I probably wouldn't feel uncomfortable on my front for a while yet because of my general size - which is great news as it's one of the few positions I can sleep in.

In pregnancy symptoms this week: 

* more ridiculous exhaustion - I sleep for 9 hours and wake up feeling like I just fell asleep

* a complete lack of appetite - but we were in a certain city where even the Subway didn't have spinach/olives, so it's not like there was anything to eat

* a couple of mild headaches - possibly because I haven't drunk enough water, which in turn is because I know it's the one thing guaranteed to make me throw up. I don't want to look at a glass of water before noon.
* an inability to get out of bed, which baffles me because I'm usually a morning person
* broken sleep and weird dreams; again, quite unusual
* continuing ditziness, ie: I need to really focus to remember things, and I've lost the ability to multi-task (but I still beat A at our first ever round of Scrabble)

In short, nothing worth complaining about, but quite a bit to be amused at. On the bright side, we've now started telling people the news, woot! I was super thrilled to tell my bestest over Hangouts.

[Tune: Here's what V bought me for Valentine's last year. 

Me: Aww! Ooh, ooh, here's what R's getting me for Valentine's next year!]

R doesn't do that kind of build-up, so he just told his friends outright. Sharing happiness really is the best feeling. 

Week 13: The NT Scan

This hasn't been a good week. R's paternal grandmother, the one who's been urging us to have children since the first time we met her three years ago, passed away. We feel lost, too far away, and so guilty about holding off from sharing the pregnancy news so far.

Pregnancy-wise as well, I think my body's keen to show me what the first trimester could have been like - nausea, throwing up, dizziness, crippling tiredness, major food aversion, back aches, restless sleep, frequent restroom visits and an even ditzier pregnancy brain than usual ('What's that? Oh, the stuff which connects to makes things be louder.' [I so wish that wasn't a direct quote. Also, the word I was looking for was 'speakers.'])

On the bright side, we're now officially in that range where only 2% of pregnancies end in miscarriage. 1 out of 50 aren't super-great odds, but compared to 1 out of 4, which was the case for much of the pregnancy, they sound fantastic. We confirmed this at an ultrasound on the last day of the 12th week - it was a NT scan, done to assess the probability of the baby having certain chromosomal irregularities, based on the thickness of the fluid at the back of its neck. 

As usual, I was told to drink 2 glasses of water an hour before my appointment, and as usual, I ignored this and drank 1 glass 20 minutes before the appointment. I won. There was a 45 minute wait at the clinic (!!!!) before I finally gave up doing the need-a-loo-need-a-loo dance and stormed off to the washroom. Of course, they were ready for me as soon as I came back with what I thought was an empty-ish bladder. Turns out there was still enough to get a clear shot of the baby. Ha. Pregnancy.

I was so glad I took that restroom break, because after fifteen minutes of prodding, belly dancing, fake-coughing and doing the hokey-pokey (no, really), the sonographer said, "Is it ok if I shake a little hard now?" Cue lots of fierce prodding which would have had me in a very embarrassing position if I hadn't just been to the restroom.

"Is there still a heartbeat?" I asked, heart in my mouth, thinking of all the travelling and hiking I'd been doing.

"Oh yeah yeah, 170bpm, all perfect. This baby's just sleeping," she said. Through all that?! Talk about an eerie resemblance to its father!

R was called in, and we both watched Pataani's (pea pod) butterfly brain, and yoga poses. Its fists curl up and out now. I asked if the sonographer had a best gender guess, with the caveat that I knew she couldn't actually tell at this point. She zoomed into a potty shot, since the baby wasn't cooperating with a nice side profile, and R's convinced it's a girl ever since. ("But it has a boy's head!" he adds.) This time, we got a nice shot of the baby's head, despite its unwillingness to pose for too long.

I snuck a peek at the lab technician's notes, saw 1.5mm, and combined with my age + family medical history, figured we're probably in the clear for the NT results (I estimate a 1 out of at least 50,000 risk, which is pretty good. I clearly read too many pregnancy forums given I know this stuff cold). Still, I had to go give a vial of blood for the IPS1 portion of the test. There was a mess-up with my paperwork; the clinic had lost the requisition forms we'd dropped off earlier, and they had to re-draw them. I think they messed up this part, actually, because they asked for a urine sample as well as blood. I'd been so sure only blood was required that I'd blissfully been to the restroom a couple more times by this time. The clinic and I just can't seem to get our bathroom breaks synced correctly!

I went down to the lab, sat down for the extraction, and was not particularly reassured by the technician saying, "Aiyi, your nerve is the size of the needle! Such thin veins, eh? Now we pray to God." To be fair, it made me clench my fist harder, and she didn't have any trouble putting the injection in. We got a couple of phone calls from the clinic & lab over the next couple of days - everything's in the clear. I've to appreciate their diligence calling people up to let them know so quickly, I know it must be really nerve wracking for couples with dicey family history/age. I took back some of the swearing I'd been doing over the bungled paperwork + long wait time.

R was planning to tell his brother our news on the last day of the 12th week... but we heard about their avva's hospitalization the same day, and it just doesn't feel right any more. I'd planned to tell my bestie the news today, but I'm not sure yet if I will. Either way, we're going to Newfoundland next week, so that gives everyone a couple of weeks to process all this.

Weeks 11 & 12: He, she, it

This isn't really a pregnancy update, because we're travelling at the moment - it's just a scheduled post about things we're thinking about.

After years of telling me how he wanted to be surprised post-delivery, R's first question when we found out I was pregnant was, "How soon can they tell if it's a boy or a girl?" So much for waiting to be surprised.

I've always wanted a daughter - blame it on Gilmore Girls, and the fact that I know R will absolutely be on tenterhooks for the rest of his life if we had a daughter. But throughout this pregnancy, I've had a feeling I'm carrying a boy, and ever since, I've really wanted one. I've been doodling little monsters and dinosaurs, and re-reading Tom Sawyer. Of course, now R wants a girl just as much. 

Let's be clear - even if this is a girl, she's going to be given an equal dose of Mark Twain and mythical creatures. I'm all for gender neutrality. I counted out the male & female characters in our nursery prints (I plan ahead, clearly) to make sure they were evenly balanced. Boy or girl, he or she will be wearing/looking at all the colours of the rainbow, not endless variations of pink or blue.

And yet, I've been pouring over the forums that say you can predict a baby's sex based on the angle of the dangle/skull shape and so on. Why is it suddenly important? Well, a couple of reasons. One, we're moving back to India, where it's illegal to find out, and that makes this a classic case of wanting what you can't have the minute you find out you can't have it. Two, gender neutrality can only be taken so far. What am I supposed to do, read 'She rocked *it* back & forth' instead of 'She rocked him back & forth' when I'm reading out Robert Munsch's Love You Forever? Obviously, it's a moot question, because we're leaving Canada at the end of week 15, which is still too soon to tell conclusively, but that doesn't stop me from wondering. 

I'm also considering Bump's first lullabies and books. R accuses me of trying to sneak in 'all that Tamil culture,' in vitro. Won't deny it, heh. We've discussed theism a fair bit - neither of us is particularly religious, but I think it's idyllic to imagine we can bring the baby up in a bubble. For one, we're not really in bubbles ourselves, being from fairly orthodox families. We always have a puja room in our house, and invariably head over there before we do anything important or leave on a journey. We know all the rituals and mythology, and I think it'd be a shame not to at least talk about all of that, particularly for the 'story' value of it all. We are not bringing our child up on Aesop's Fables & Mother Goose alone. And finally, Carnatic music! There's no way I'm not occasionally playing M.S., and I can't help it if she's invariably singing about God. 

I suspect we'll be having lovely hypothetical discussions like this while we're travelling. When we get back, it'll be time for the Nuchal Scan at 13 weeks, to check for Down's and a few other genetic deviations. That'll be our official go-ahead to tell the world - except that we still won't, because we want to do it in person when we go to India next month! Ah, the wait. Too much.

Week 10: Make way for the bump

Kumquat, grape fruit, prune. All options which I've never bought, or even paid much attention to, so I've no idea what the desi equivalent is. Bigger than a grape, smaller than a lime: Bump's officially a fetus now, and just over an inch long. R's calling it Akrut (walnut) this week! To go from urad daal size to that in 10 weeks is mind boggling. And when you add in the fact that there are the beginnings of little teeth and kidneys and all kinds of other things - I'm already in awe of this baby. I weigh just under a kilo more than I did two weeks ago, which is roughly what Akrut is supposed to weigh now. 

This is R's last week at work, and he's been focusing on the homestretch of big presentations. By the time he's home, I've invariably given up the struggle, and loosened the top button of my shorts. My jeans are still okay, but that's because they're all low waist. There's a slight but definite bloat here, and it's not (just) my usual cheese-fed potbelly. I wonder how long it'll be before I really start to show?

I weigh around 50kg pre-pregnancy, which is a healthy BMI for my height... but R reminded me that given the average weight of babies + amniotic fluids etc, I can expect to be carrying at least 15kg around the stomach area by the end of this. That was a nice visual. It was a good reminder that I should really exercise more, though. I've been taking it easy and that's not the best idea if I'll be doing that kind of weight lifting.

We went to see the doctor to go over the results of the dating scan, and we have an official due date: Feb 11, 2015. Now that we're two weeks away from the conventional 'safe date,' I've re-drawn our family tree to include Akrut, and Akrut's two fairly-new cousins (one of whom is due in November!). I'm going to use it to tell my parents/close relatives the news when we get to India.  

Before that, we're travelling for a while... we're both very relaxed about this, because Akrut's already been to Austria, Paris, London, Scotland, New York, and all around Toronto - by the end of the first trimester, he/she will have visited Vancouver and the Rockies too! Oddly enough, I'm less prone to motion sickness when I'm pregnant. A baby after our own hearts. Akrut's definitely getting a copy of Oh Baby, The Places You'll Go.

Moment of shame: I meant 'not now' but R thought I meant 'no thanks,' and ate the last of the chocolate. R once again proved that he's the best husband in the world by unquestioningly buying me replacements straight away, despite being mid-dinner. ("I like it when I can be the awesome one in the relationship.")

Moment of glory: I made myself a spinach & cheese melt on whole grain toast, and not only did I taste every mouthful, but I've also been longing for it since. This baby's finally starting to resemble me a little, instead of being all R with his Zen-like calmness and his sweet tooth! Cheese ftw!

*You'll have to excuse me if these posts seem overly detailed and unnecessary. I'm determined to chronicle every step of this as I think it's the only pregnancy we'll have. We want one more child - but we've always wanted to adopt. And you can bet I'm going to be writing all about that, not least because I don't think there's enough info on the Indian system yet. I thought Bump deserved equal coverage.*

Week 9: Not your usual pregnancy update

People we've told so far: 3.

The eye doctor, the eye doctor's receptionist, the dental hygienist.

Awkward conversations where everyone tells us how great it is that we don't have kids and can do whatever we want: too many to count.

R & I are finding it difficult not to scream the news from the mountaintops. It doesn't help that I don't look, feel, or act pregnant, so no one has any reason to guess. This week, we started telling people that we were moving back to India & that R would be starting his own business. So, of course, they told us how great it was not to have any 'responsibilities.' I predict we're going to have that elephant-in-the-room question when we tell them about the baby a month from now: was it planned?

Not that it's anyone's business, but it was; just as much as the entrepreneurship move was planned. We didn't necessarily expect both to culminate simultaneously though. We found out I was pregnant two days after R put down his papers. Does that change anything? I say no.

I'm not suggesting that we'll always put our lives before our kids', but in this case, I think it's warranted. We can't put our lives on hold to have a baby. R's business idea is time sensitive, and I really do think it'll work. As for Angur (the baby's grape sized this week) - having no insurance will be a bit of a pain, but even if we pay for everything ourselves, we still have the savings to get through a couple of years comfortably. I think it's far better to do this than to take the safe option and risk a slightly martyred resentfulness deep deep deep deep deeeeeeep down. 

I read a quote somewhere which goes roughly like this: 'Take the leap, a net will emerge.' This all still seems like a fairly well-hedged bet to me. There are moments when I start wondering if I should find a job, just to have a steady income - but that's the emotional side talking, not the rational. The rational knows that we'll be fine. 

This week, I'm proving Newton's law - a body in rest will stay in rest unless an outside force acts on it. Other than that, I'm still absurdly loving sugar with a passion (this is clearly R's child) and not able to taste much. I feel a little blind without my palate, but if that's the most I have to complain about, I still feel very lucky. In my mum's side of the family, legend has it that a difficult first trimester leads to a girl child. I guess that makes Angur a boy. 

It's a date!

First scan! I was very pleased to be told precisely how much water to drink beforehand. (I hate showing up at the doctor's/lab and being told to produce a sample - why not tell me before? Since I now visit the loo ten times a day, I rarely leave home without making sure there are NO samples left in me. At our first doctor's appointment, R & I hung out by the water cooler, giggling over how long it was taking. Happy times.)

In Toronto, it seems the policy is to do a dating scan as soon as possible, even if you've a fairly predictable body schedule. I wasn't in the same country as R for more than a month before I got pregnant, so I'd say I can date this pretty accurately... but I wasn't going to turn down a chance to see Rajhma - which is what we're calling the nugget in week 8, as it's the approximate size and shape of a kidney bean.

Either the scanning equipment's great, or Rajhma is one of those page 3 types, because we didn't need an internal scan to get some great photos - a trans-abdominal one showed the sonographer everything she needed to see right away. Unlike the movies where they say it's all blurry and indistinct, we could clearly make out a head, a body, and little arms & legs - we could even see the heartbeat pumping away. A huge beam split R's face - he's so excited, it's the cutest. I think it all seems more real to him now, he's started keeping closer tabs of my folic acid pills all of a sudden.

This week's symptoms (and I hear this is atypical): I'm still very rarely nauseous, and have managed not to throw up at all (that one time I drank my water too fast probably doesn't count). I haven't been dizzy. I can still comfortably do 2km a day. So all in all, this pregnancy's still been an absolute charmer. My only complaints are:

* Not being able to taste anything. R assures me I'm cooking fantastic stuff, so this is kind of sad.

* Craving sweets, chocolate cake in particular. This is the one thing I seem to be able to taste. I tried staving Rajhma off with blueberries & mangos, but caved and made a one-serving cake immediately afterwards.

* Complete inability to concentrate on any book. This is bumming me out, because I tear through at least 5 a week.  

Don't hate me yet. I'll probably have to pay for this in the third trimester, or in labour, or with impossible sleep training or something.

Weeks 5 & 6: That's what the pregnant woman said

Tearing through two sticky toffee puddings and eyeing the husband's ice cream: "I don't even like desserts."

After falling asleep at 10:30am, waking up to eat a whole bag of carrots & then falling asleep again: "Oh nooo, I've become one of those unemployed people!"

Trying to walk to the library nearby: "This used to be way easier! I think they moved it." 

Watching the World Pride Parade: "Doesn't this make you cry? Ok, whatever, this is just really emotional for me."

Looking in the mirror: "Woah, I look great! ...No, just look from there, don't come near me."

Watching Masterchef: "Wait, why are they all running around? What did they have to make? ...I've forgotten."

This was all before I confirmed the pregnancy. I put off taking the test for a really long time, because I was worried it'd be negative.

Obviously when I put all the evidence together like this, it seems a bit silly not to realize it... but in my defense, I'd be quite capable of saying any of that stuff on a regular day too :)

Buckle Up

R,

I've to give our parents/families/friends some serious props. In the last year or so, whenever we've said, "We've some news!" they've been expecting to hear what an average married couple may consider news. And instead, we've told them that.... I've quit my job.  I'm going to try writing a book. We've announced that I'm travelling for two months... solo.

And as of last week, we told them that we're moving back to India; that you're quitting your cushy day job (that makes two of us now!) to start your own business. You could audibly hear the sputters, and I understand why people may be confused, but I believe, from the bottom of my heart, that this is the best thing for you.

I've told you this before, but I'll say it again. You believe in me to the extent where I've no choice but to believe in myself. I hope you realize I'm similarly confident about your abilities. I'm excited to watch this leg play out. It's going to be a fun ride!

And in a couple of months, after we've finished travelling around Canada (because we can't just start a new job without a vacation!), we'll call them, and say, again, "We've some news."

They'll probably think we've decided to move to Nepal or something, at the rate at which we've been going. Little do they know... being predictable is the new being unpredictable :)

- A.

The Trip So Far: India

R,

I've no idea where the last month went. Seeing four-five cities and about a hundred people in twenty days will do that to you. It's been so amazing!

I tried to think of highlights for the blog, but the truth is, nothing will capture the melty-butter I'm-HOME!-ness of India. As much fun as I had gossiping with relatives, arranging family reunions, gabbing with school friends, staying over with ex-colleagues, checking out Orissa (which is beautiful!), eating the most amazing food, and attending a very pretty wedding; I'll take away the feeling of happy timelessness over any specific memory.

I'm incredibly lucky to have people and places in my life that don't, in essence, change. It makes it very easy to know where I belong.

The Euro trip kind of snuck up on me while I was distracted by India. My brother was switching channels on the TV, and the Sound of Music came on, reminding me all of a sudden that I'm leaving tomorrow. Not the Annie brand of someday toooomorrow, but the very real, less-than-24-hours-away kind. I would freak out a little, but it seems like a pity to waste any of my time here thinking about anything else. I'll save the anxious excitement for the flight :)

-A.

Angrez chale gaye...

R,

Pro travel tip - fly on a Tuesday night and you'll have a near-empty flight. I'd three free seats to my right (with an aisle), and one free to my left. Oho. So great. I sat down comfortably and watched ten movies back to back, only occasionally interrupted by a screaming baby. Every flight has at least one, even the ones that leave on a Tuesday night.

Here's the weird thing - I didn't hear a single Indian parent on the flight talk to their kid in any language other than English. How did that happen? I get that the kid lives in Canada/Britain since it was a Toronto-London flight, but can English really be the language you talk to them and your spouse in ALL the time? It's kind of depressing, and all kinds of limiting. English doesn't have plum descriptions like 'tu baingain hai ki anda hai re' or 'podaaaanga' or 'plum,' for that matter. How can you ever fully express yourself?

It just feels like you'd instinctively respond in your mother tongue when surprised/angry... like in that Birbal story where the priest who speaks 14 languages with the fluency of a native screams out in Telugu when woken suddenly in the night with thorns (it may have been a Tenali Raman story, and it may have been some other language, but the point's the same)... but nope, even when a kid threw his spoon of food at his mum, she just said, "We don't do that, sweetie." 

!!!

Whaaaaat?

She didn't say it with the distinctive twang of someone who'd grown up abroad either. Is it just more socially acceptable to talk English in public, especially when you're outside India? Should that even matter one way or the other? 

I worry that could be us - not because we don't speak our mother tongues without caring who's listening, but because we have different native languages. Maybe I'll talk to our kid in Tamil, and you can talk to him in Kannada, and we'll both toss in some Hindi and some Telugu and a bucketload of English. It may confuse the poor thing (especially given my Telugu sucks), but I think it'd be preferable to only speaking English.

A.