The Stork's Assistants: Long Delayed Update

BT (Before Tyke) I had compiled a list of 2008 babies, due in March end, I was 9/10th in the list. The Tyke will be four months in a week's time, InshaAllah and I haven't posted a single update since my last the update IV. In fact, I should've been pushed down the expecting list as A, my SiL's bro and SiL had a son early March, but Z, blogger had her baby take her due time in her arrival so I retained my no. 9 spot. Anyways. After update IV:
N has had her twins, a boy and a girl, all fine, hale and hearty...her husband sent me their pics, with their elder son and the new arrivals.
S, my cousin has had a baby daughter early this month, sis sent me an sms also informing me of the impending mommyhood of two more cousins...that takes up the 2008 babies count to 15!
A, SiL, had a baby boy yesterday so hoooray there too. :))
The Tyke is neatly wedged amidst all these arrivals and will have loads of playmates his age...now only if we would make sure that he's around one time or another, with these kids in the list!
Our move to Canuck-land is all set now. We go there mid-August and get some paperwork done by end of September, then return to base and head home to Pakistan (KHI-LHR-KHI) in October/November...finally returning here to see the end of the year. Next year when we fly to Canada, it would be a permanent move, InshaAllah, sometimes in May.
Also I've been thinking up loads of Tyke posts all these months, I just have to make time one of tehse days and commit them all here.

BabyD is getting bigger and bigger day by day... when we first bought his activity center (walker cum rocker cum bouncer with an activity tray) last month, the smallest height was too high for his little feet. We thought it appropriate because we didn't want him to walk just then. We expected him to bounce and rock himself and be involved in his activity tray but we soon found that he thought that we were confining him. He was learning to crawl and getting under almost everything. I found him pulling out my crochet basket (filled with my incomplete shawls and doilies and colorfu balls of thread) one day. He tugged at his tidy bag another day and he got under my dresser, the dinning table and then one evening, rolled off the bed ( I had moved for less than ten seconds). He learned to get out of his rocker and out of his stroller and was getting restless in his crib. That is when we realized, we needed something else to keep him busy. After a little search around town we found the perfect walker. It was an activity center and it had lots of little things to keep him busy. But after the first day, BabyD understood that his mum and dad were confining him. He was literally stuck there... he had teethers and rings that he could pull at but he didn't want too. He had a rubber ducky and a little blue elephant but that only made him blue and anything he touched made a sound. It irritated him and made both his parents and him, anxious. We decided to place him in his walker for only a few minutes everyday so that he could get a hang of it. It worked to the extent that he sat in it for 15minutes. And then, two weeks after we bought it, I removed the pad from under his feet just so that he could feel that he had a little more control. I converted it to a rocker and let him rock... it didn't work and so, one day while working in the kitchen I converted it to walker again and pushed and pulled at him around me. He stopped wailing and looked around. From then on, everywhere that mummy went, BabyD took her there! I would put him in his walker and we would play choo choo train. I would push on his walker and he would coo and babble and enjoy the ride around.

Last week, I placed BabyD in his walker when I came online and after a little 'quiet' time, I hear D exclaim, "Umm... aye..". I looked around to see that he was excited because he was moving. He was pushing at the ground with his little toes and that was sending the walker moving in the opposite direction. He was moving... he was mobile and he had discovered that! For once I had my camera ready and on hand to capture my sons first steps. He could only move in reverse for the first two days but now he moves around the room in all directions. It is not actually walking but he moves and that is beautiful. To me BabyD being mobile means that he now pulls on drawers and tugs on table covers and bedsheets and picks stuff off tables... it means that I have more reasons to not come online because I need my eyes on my son then on a screen and a keyboard. It means loads of work and lots of careful planning around the house. It means moving furniture and babyproofing the house but... it's OK. I don't think I ever want to stop my son from discovering stuff. More on discovery later.

BabyD took his first steps in his walker yesterday. Coincidently, it was his 6month birthday. Alhamdulillah he is six months old... walking... talking (if only a few words)... eating(almost all vegies and fruits) ... crawling and curious about the world around him. Alhamdulillah he isn't anxious around strangers... infact he loves people and going out. more later

I came online to blog... and then BabyD throughs a tantrum... it's been on for.... 3hrs now!!

There is a fun in blogging from bloggar that I had been missing. The last time I used it... blogger had updated to new blogger and I was having problems publishing. The new version is out and downloaded on to my laptop....Now... I blog nonstop! (hopefully)

Oh btw, babyD turns 6months next week... he is progressing to active crawling and has become quite naughty!


err... where's the title field? never mind...

BabyD at almost 5months

If there is one thing that I can really say that I have learned from pregnancy and after the birth of BabyD ,then it is that I have learned to love and respect my parents even more than I have ever loved them before. It is really amazing how they managed to bring us up so well! I realise this every day, every hour of the day that I spend with BabyD. I pray I raise him well but as the days pass by and D learns new things I find myself really wondering...

BabyD is learning many new things. He now turns over more easily and is practising his pre-crawling and he is getting curious about the world around him. I know that moving forward on his tummy doesn't make him 'mobile' but I am already facing trouble. I can't leave him on the bed or on the carpet or even his rocker. He has learned to get out of his rocker and roll off the bed and when he is on the carpet, although he still doesn't have a pincer grip, he still manages to grab something or the other. Everything edible or otherwise goes into his mouth. He doesn't care if it fits into his mouth or not, he just has to try and have a taste. Sometimes I find it funny to watch him so desperately trying to put his beach ball into his mouth but most of the time, I am the one who is desperately trying to keep everything out of his reach.

BabyD has learned to laugh out loud too and believe me it is by far the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. I can keep on tickling him or making faces all day just so that I can hear his laughter. More recently he has learned to be more social, he now knows when I am joking or trying to make him laugh and what's more is that he sometimes tries to make me laugh too. Especially during feeding times, he looks up at me with a grin and a naughty look in his eyes and when I smile back, he laughs and then quickly gets back to having his milk. After a few seconds he again looks up and laughs and when I laugh back... he resumes. This continues for as long as I have the time or he has the moods. He has learned to reach up and touch my face and when I am sitting with him in my lap talking to him or someone else, he reaches up to put his fingers on my mouth as if trying to see how I talk. If he is standing in my lap, he puts his fingers in my mouth and starts to laugh which in turn makes me laugh and we both keep giggling together.

But more recently, BabyD has learned to shout and scream and that is what alarms me. At first, we didn't mind him screaming because he had only just discovered that he could scream. In a way it was like he had discovered his voice. We kept him going and encouraged him to shout or call someone. BabyD would often scream and make noise while with his dad and I didn't mind it because I thought it to be 'father and son' time and well, I didn't think it right to tell Z how to play with his son. But now, we are both alarmed because we have found BabyD to be screaming when he is angry or irritated. D wants us to carry him around or hold him into a standing position all the time. Yesterday, I was busy in the kitchen and had to put him in his rocker or on his tummy. At first I thought he was playfully shouting but then after sometime I realised that he was angry and was actually screaming to ask me to pick him up. I picked him up and calmed him down. I had to carry him around the rest of the afternoon. He did the same thing again in the evening and even Z agrees now that BabyD is throwing a temper tantrum. I hope that it is just this once that he did that and that he doesn't do it often. How do you tell a baby to not scream? He is still too young to understand 'no' and there is no reasoning with him. I am just so scared that it may become a habit. Last night at dinner I put D in his seat and he started to scream. Z came in just then and told D in as stern a way as he could to stop that. D thought it funny and started laugh as though Z was playing with him! We both stared at him before bursting into laughter ourselves. Clearly, it is not going to be easy. There is no reasoning with a baby.

BabyD has learned to play on his own too. That is, when and if he is in the mood. He now looks at his toys more closely and turns them over and feels them and of course, puts them in his mouth to taste them too. He can now differentiate between colours and I have found him many a times putting his hands on colours that match. He looks at them to and fro patting on them. Last week, I found him putting his hand on the bed sheet. The bed sheet has alternating boxes of patterns of different colour and D would keep on putting his hand on one pattern and then looking for the match and then putting his hand on the exact same pattern. At first I thought it was a coincident but when he kept looking at both the patterns and putting his hands on them and continuing to search for others that looked like it, I was sure that he was matching them. I haven't read any where that babies at his age can do that and I have been too busy to ask Joey about it.

I sometimes think that BabyD is hyperactive. But then again, I am sure most mothers of toddlers think that way about their children. D cannot sit still at all. I wonder how it will be after he starts to actively crawl or when he starts walking... Uh OH!! I am disturbed by the thought already!

D loves to go out. He has learned to say Vroom Vroom and Zoom Zoom and it is just the mention of the word 'car' and he starts. He sits in his rocker ( which by the way doubles up as his car seat also) and goes Vroom Vroom for so long that he drools and spits all over his shirt. No matter how many times we tell him to stop it... his car just doesn't run out of gas!

While there are babies who bring their parents to tears over bath time, my son loves to take a bath. We have just to mention 'bath time' before he starts going boo boo. D bathes at night before going to bed. It is a part of his bedtime routine. Sometimes Z and I get so tired that we want to skip out the bathing but D remembers and as soon as we mention that it is 'sleepy time', he reminds us to boo boo him. He bounces and gets so excited that we forget how tired we are.

Z was asking me a few days ago as to what it is that I really taught BabyD so far that I can count as really teaching him something. I think, I taught my son to get up in the morning with a smile. :)

9months to BabyD

Today I have the time to sit and write. Where was I the past few days? Uncle2D had come over and we were all very busy trying to update each other on what's new in our lives and then play with D too. D is crazy about his uncle… when I say crazy, I mean really crazy! D doesn't remember his bedtime or his nap time or that he is hungry when he is around his uncle. He may suck on his hand if he is hungry, rub his eyes when sleepy but still continue to play with his uncle. Uncle2D bought BabyD another bear, Benny Bear, and he has bought him one big ball which we have named as Poo Ball and he has The Three Tennis Balls which we call Tibbs. D loves wrestling with Benny, carrying his big Poo ball around and holding Tibbs close like a doll. He is so crazy about his new toys that he even sleeps with them.

We were afraid that BabyD had developed stranger anxiety when we found him not taking too easily to his GrandmaT but now we know that he likes some people and dislikes a few others. I know that I need to teach him to love her but I am really not sure how to make him like her. The past two weeks I have been calling her to my place almost on a daily basis and the days when she can't come over, we go to her place. I want BabyD to like her and she is trying everything that she can to make D like her but we are still having trouble.

Here is the update on Nine months to babyD.

A week before Baby D was born, I had moved to my apartment to stay with Z. Z's office is closer to our place and he couldn't come and stay with me at my parent's house. Z was having trouble trying to juggle home and work and I thought that I could handle myself at my place but after only a few days I found that I was getting cramps and we worried about early labor. The day before BabyD was born, Z dropped me off at my parent's place while on his way to work and I stayed there chatting, joking and giggling with/at Joey. It was a normal day, nothing unusual. We discussed about how we wanted to arrange the nursery and what theme we'd keep; we argued about baby names all day with Joey bent on naming her nephew D and threatening us if we named him anything else and we packed my hospital bag. Z had asked me to take my hospital bag along with me when he left me at mom's that morning. He had asked me to finish packing it. That evening, I packed it up and put in all the 20 or so things my mom had asked me to put into the duffel bag that I had decided to take to the hospital. In the evening around 6pm my parents went out shopping. Mom wanted to make cloth nappies and jhablas for the baby. We weren't sure if we would ever use them but we wanted to do everything, traditional and modern, that could be done for the baby. My mother was becoming a grandma for the first time and she wanted to put in her two cents (they are worth way more than that!). Mom and Dad went out, Joey and I stayed at home watching Spacetoon. Z came home around 7pm and after he had dinner we decided to go back to my place. Mom and Dad had still not come in and it was 9pm then. It was getting late and I ached all over. I was too tired to even carry my purse and so I thought it better to give the hospital bag to Joey. At the door, I gave her the bag and told her to bring it along if I called to say that I was going to the hospital.

On our way home, I suddenly felt too tired to even sit in my seat. We reached home a few minutes later and I sat there waiting for Z to come over to my side to open the door. It was a ridiculous idea to wait for him… desi guys don't like opening doors for their women! Once home, I took off my abaya and decided to go to bed but then changed my mind and decided to look at the symptoms for labour in the What To Expect When You Are Expecting book. Z came in and found me flipping through the book. I told him that I was getting cramps and that I was looking to see if that was normal. He asked me to call the doctor just to be sure and although I didn't want to call her (it was anything serious), I called her up. I told her that I was having cramps and described to her exactly what I was feeling. She asked me if I had counted the baby kicking and I told her that I hadn't. She asked me to come over just to have a routine check. I was too tired and didn't want to go but Z was adamant and he called up my mother to ask what we should do. She wanted me to go to and after a few minutes of arguing, Z convinced me that we should go. I called up Joey to tell her that we were going to the hospital. My mother had still not gotten home and when Joey heard that I was going to the hospital she naturally assumed it was 'time'.

On the way to the doctors clinic, in the car, I noticed that the baby wasn't kicking or moving. It always kicked around furiously whenever we went for a drive and I was surprised that I could sit so comfortably this time. I then remembered that I had eaten chocolates two to three hours ago and even that jolt of sugar hadn't energized him to get active. That is when I started to panic… I hadn't felt my baby move for four hours!! At the clinic, I told Dr. A what I was feeling and she proceeded for a USG. After half an hour of trying to get the baby to move, she gave up and said that it was no use wasting time. She said that if I didn't deliver my baby in four hours, I could lose him. I had a low lying placenta, the amniotic fluid was low and the baby was under stress. She said that I needed an emergency C-section. We were asked to check into the hospital right away. I tried making excuses to not have the baby that early. I was sure the baby would move and that everything would be well. It was 11pm then and I hadn't even had my dinner. I was too disturbed and had decided to eat later. All that I had had was two sticks of Twix. Once outside the doctors clinic, I told my mother that I didn't have the hospital bag ( as if I needed it right then!) and so we couldn't go that day. Joey quickly responded with 'I didn't forget to bring it. It is the car'. I had never been so annoyed at my sister my entire life as I was that day. I couldn't believe it; these people were really going to get me to have my baby that night.

At the hospital, we checked into OB-GYN emergency and had three different doctors and two nurses take my BP and ask me about my allergies and medical and family history. I was then taken to the delivery room where I changed into the hospital gown and was then strapped to the foetal monitor. The anesthesiologist came in then to ask me the same questions that I had already answered two to three times earlier. He asked me when and what I had eaten and if I had any questions. I asked him some questions and I must say he knew his work well. We waited for two hours to see if there was any change in the foetal movements. I felt only four movements in two hours. The chief of OB-GYN came in with my doctor to discuss if I really needed the c-section. Then another doctor came in and they argued and debated for sometime. It was then decided that we'd wait till morning.

I was moved to a room then but still strapped to a foetal monitor but this one was counting the baby's heart beat too. Dad and Joey were sent home to have dinner and some sleep so that they could come in the morning. There was no point in worrying. Z and mom stayed with me. Z had been up quite early that day and he had dark circles under his eyes. We asked him to sleep on the adjacent bed in my room and mom and I stayed up talking. It was 2am when I was wheeled into the room and the doctor had said she would come at Fajr. Fajr was at 5.30am. Mom and I chatted trying hard to cheer each other up but it was clear that we were both worried. We both kept praying. She for her daughter and I for my unborn son. The foetal monitor showed that the baby was not moving the first hour but the after 3am the baby suddenly started kicking and moving quite vigorously and his heart beat was too high. When the doctor came in at 6am, she said that the baby was excited by the foetal monitor as this sometimes happened and has thus moved but it hadn't stirred after the foetal monitor had been shut down. She said that she would perform the operation at 10am. She went out of the room and Z followed her to ask her a few questions. A few seconds later, Z came back and said that I would be having the operation right away. He said that the doctor had changed her mind and as the operating room staff had informed her that they were ready, she had decided to do the operation right away and not risk taking a chance. It was 6.50am when I was wheeled in to the OR. I am surprised that I wasn't scared. I saw my mother and Z as I was wheeled out and they looked quite worried. Z had nervously smiled at me and given me the 'I am praying for you' look. I didn't know what to say to him so I just smiled back. In the OR, they moved me on to another table and then wheeled me somewhere else and then moved me to on to the operating table. I was pretty excited. I had never been in an operating room before or seen the inside of the operating theater. It was cool, really cool! Such big round white lights that changed to a pinkish greenish tinge. They reminded me of jelly fish. :D I was so excited I had wished I had my camera with me so that I could snap pictures to show to Joey. The nurses in the meanwhile strapped me to the ECG machine and they inserted an IV syringe in my left arm and I saw the anesthesiologist walk in in his green dress holding up his hands. I saw my doctor walk in too and she came up to me to reassure me that everything would be alright. Right then I was given something in my IV that really, really sting… I had started to say the ayatul kursi when I passed out. When I came to I was finishing saying the ayatul kursi, the difference being that when I had passed out it was so quiet but when I came too, I was hearing too many voices ( all speaking in Filipino and Arabic) and I was in too much pain. I was in pain, I was throwing up and I wanted to see my baby. I was told I had given birth to boy and that I couldn't see him for four hours. I was sick, in too much pain and add to that that they wouldn't let me see my baby... they were getting me angry. D was born at 7am. They wheeled me out at 9.30am and when they opened the door, Z was standing right in front. He came to my side asking me how I was doing and I told him I was in pain. Mom was also there and so was Joey and Dad. Soon Dad and Joey disappeared and Mom and Z came with me to the recovery room. Once in my room, I threw up there too and was given pain killers. I was also feeling very cold and shaky. Amidst throwing up and in my drowsy state, I remember asking Z if he had seen the baby. He smiled and said 'yes' and I asked him if he looked like him and he said 'yes' to that too. Joey came in then and showed me a picture of the baby on her cell and he looked quite a scene with his hair plastered to his head, eyes puffed, reddish complexion and wrapped in a blue shawl. I remember crying because he was so ajeeb looking. Mom scolded Joey for showing me the pic, dad said something and comforted me saying that the pic was bad and Z kept saying, "he is really cute. He is beautiful…" Sometimes during that the nurse came in informed us that the Director General had come to see me. We were all puzzled when a very good looking tall and handsome Saudi in his twenties walked in and asked me how I was doing and if he could do something for me. I told him I was sleepy and that I wanted to sleep… Everybody burst into laughter and (thankfully) left me to myself. Round 12pm, I woke up to find Joey taking pictures of me and my room and singing, "Joey bunny Aunny" . I would have thrown a pillow at her if it wasn't for the fact that I was quite comfortable with a pillow under me and that the throwing would have hurt me. I asked her if she had seen the baby and she proceeded to tell me everything about what all had happened since she got there that morning.

We called up the nursery to ask them to send the baby but they only said that they would be sending the baby after 2hrs. We waited and while we waited I worried and thought out loud:

'Joey, what if I don't like my baby?'

'I'll take it', she said.

'What if I don't make a good mom?'

'I'll adopt him.'

'What if he doesn't like me?'

'All babies love their moms. Besides, you are a lovable creature.'

Thank God for giving me a shrink for a sis. I wonder how I would have survived without her.
Dad came in around noon and they bought the baby in soon after him. Joey bought him to my side and dad picked up the baby and then put him in my lap. Z came in right at that moment and he stood there at the door with a smile on his face.

My first look at my son? He was beautiful! All I could say was… 'Assalamalaikum baby. I am your mom' and just then… he opened his eyes to look at me.

What's the feeling like? I don't know… I can't describe it. It is a memory.. A feeling that just cannot be described. A feeling that A will be experiencing very soon. A feeling that, I pray, is as beautiful for her as it was for me... InshaAllah, all will be well.

Tyke's Arrival: The Waiting Game

The Tyke’s arrival is getting closer and it seems like we actually get to chose a date to pick it up. As we sat out the weekend in uncertainty and a wait that seems to drag on and on, Z asked me what had happened to the old fashioned stork-delivery-of-baby-days. It was a far more efficient system and cut out on the parent’s wait and a state of preparedness that just but unnerves them completely. I was massaging my Momzilla feet at the time and once again thinking how Mom’s have temporary amnesia. Before I hold the Tyke in my hands and forget all about what I went through to get to the little bundle all my own (and a quart Z’s) I thought I should record it. For most parts, I seem to have forgotten what hell the first trimester was. Somehow I’ve actually, really forgotten what it was like to be nauseated at the mere mention of food…how just passing by a cafeteria made me sick. I just remember that I did not want to eat, but somehow the days passed with the aid of a nausea medication. But was that all to the first trimester? I can’t remember anymore, isn’t it strange? Oh and the tear-fest that I was prone to some of the time, that was Z’s bane and all he remembers!
Then came the second trimester with its back and feet aches. I remember my lower back and feet, particularly the heels killing me, even at rest, the nausea had subsided but oh the pains and aches that I’d put up with, and what else can I say but SubhanAllah…the second and longest gestational trimester also passed and with it all the pains and pangs. I bought the Tyke’s first outfits sometimes nearing the end of the second trimester.

One fine dish washing mid-November evening, I felt it’s first kick. We had company so I could not jump all over the place (I was not yet the plus plus size being I am now and could, with soime effort, jumo around with joy) and inform Z of what the kid was upto. All of a sudden it seemed so real and close, an actual being. So far it was just a nauseating, aching thing we could, if lucky, catch waving it’s limbs (I suspect it was the hand) during the U/S sessions. With its first jab it announced that its limbs were ready, hardening as it became more and more human, more and more our kid, the Tyke who’d take over our lives completely, wholly. I actually felt more closer to it after the kicks and jabs, it felt like I was the inside of a goal post most of the times when it was active, but SubhanAllah, it was beautiful. And the best of it all, it stopped moving the moment it’s father neared. All Z had to do was step in the room and the Tyke would’ve been kicking, head butting, jabbing, poking around Amma’s innards and be at complete peace! Seriously, I mean I know how kids are completely their Abba’s pets (I’d favor Pa over Ma any given day and time) but such blatant favoritism already, before arrival, was unkind. One moment a tantrum and the second it was an angel waiting for Abba’s approval with perfect behavior; it was amusing and annoying at the same time. These active sessions were spaced out through the day of course and I lived for them. That is all I remember of the second trimester. All the reading I’d done, online and offline, all the information I’d gathered distilled into those moments. Nothing else mattered. I’ve all the monthly U/S pics up to this stage as I changed doctors in the last trimester.
The third trimester, when things start getting real, a bit too real. On Eid Day, the Tyke waked me up by poking a limb out of me, really… a rounded thing protruding from the left side of my bump…just a bit, but enough to be felt. It was also the stage when I was eating or thinking about what to eat most of the time. My weight shot up drastically so much so that Z tried to enforce a chocolate ban on me and get me to eat healthy; eggs, milk, fish, fruits and vegetables, the kind of stuff I don’t even think classifies as food essential. I managed to get past the embargo some times and got my chocolates and as he saw that I was eating properly or at least making an effort to, the embargo was relaxed and we could get chocolates when doing grocery. In the meanwhile, I’d lost my crazy craving for brown bars, I still can't get all that excited about chocolates and merely think of them as an item in the fridge that has to be finished, that’s all. Not the anticipation and excitement that was once a part of the choc-binge. I blame the Tyke and its obedience to its Abba, what else can explain this sudden loss of appetite for chocolates?
Third trimester also meant more activity for the Tyke, more amusement for Amma and shape-shifting of her bump. And then the U/S session, the first indication of what a worrier Tyke’s going to be…it was breech. Also the radiologist threw a tub full of water on my Tyke shopping so far by announcing that the gender was not what the previous doctor had confirmed. I was advised to walk every day and let gravity direct the Tyke into a proper position, of the gender, we had to wait till the next U/S session when it would co-operate with the doctor and let us know if the shopping had to be more blue or pink. It was week 29, I believe, when the U/S was done and the next two weeks I walked despite feet that refused to carry me, a back that declined to support my weight…and a fatigue that threatened to collapse me 24/7. I was showing now, though I did not realize how much obvious the Tyke’s presence inside me was till I stepped into the lift one day and saw a woman I could not recognize as myself. Bloated beyond belief, nose the size and shape of New Zealand and the rest of me like Russia, inflated and all over the place! My hands and feet were a splotchy purplish-red color by now and twice their size. All footwear I once had was already languishing in the shoe rack, now I was running out of space in the functional flip-flops I’d bought. I could get in them with some difficulty, see my feet flesh up on both sides of the straps, my toes like fat sausages complaining of their inability to live with their neighbors as they ran out of space on my feet. One of my fears is that one day I’d look down (while seated of course, I can no longer see my feet while standing) and see a couple of toes stacked on top of each other, sheepishly telling me they had no other way to go!
Just last week the Tyke gave us a new scare altogether, it had gotten into the right head-down position, but in doing so and dancing around and exploring in the cramped space it has, it got a knot in it cord and sported it proudly, like a medal round its neck. Of course it sounds not that bad now, but when the doctor told me of it, I felt all blood drain out of me seeing her make a knot out of my dupatta to demonstrate what the situation was. I didn’t help that I’d gone for my visit alone for the first time in all those months and the time I’d wanted Z most by my side he was not there. I was put on CTG and everything recorded fine on it. The Tyke was up to its usual dancing and prodding antics. I was to be monitored more closely then on. I remember returning home in a cab totally spaced out and crying, worrying, searching on the internet for the ominous words and then not reading any further as none of it was any heartening or even sympathizing read for a mom-to-be. Z returned from work and it was a silent evening, we did not talk about it. The doctor had already told me that instead of waiting for my EDD at the end of the month or the show to begin on its own, she’d not risk and induce me as the Tyke was full -term (37 weeks) weighed respectable enough…and that I should be ready for a c-section if God Forbid its heartbeat dropped. I was worrying that I did not want any epidurals and here was a new scare…that I was to be knocked out flat for the grand ‘arrival’. Z went with me for the second CTG and learnt for himself of the situation, so far a part of me was wishing that I’d heard wrong, how can there be a knotted cord around the neck, either one of the things on its own was worry enough for there to be a double dose of it. The prognosis was the same. Another CTG scheduled for Monday, March 17 and then the doctor said, let’s not wait anymore, we’ll induce you on Tuesday. So the bags are packed and ready, Ma’s being flown over on short notice, Ma-in-Law is packing her bags. The house is clean, all things dusted and properly placed, the wardrobe neatly stacked with freshly laundered, sweet smelling soft new clothes (I wasted one weekend evening sorting through Z’s clothes and dumping more than half of them above and away from sight and reach to make space for Tyke’s things, it already has my side of the cupboard taken over with small hangers). All set and the wait…we’re just waiting for Monday and what the doctor says of the Tyke’s arrival then. So back to Z’s question, why did the stork retire?

Stork's Assistants: Update IV, MomZilla's and The Tyke

A has broken the daughter run for this year and had a baby boy on February 20th, three days after W had her daughter. We went to see BabySh the other day and he is MashaAllah adorable. His elder sis, L was taking quite well to the new arrival, L is two and a half year's old and A told me that her reaction to her bhai was cute, she rushes to him when he cries and actually tells him that L and Dadi are there with him, so he does not have to cry, they'll hit the genie for him! But like the little girl she is, she takes and exception to being called an aapa or baji...L doll, she says. And she really is a doll, Z was reminiscing sitting at their place how L was just like BabySh when he'd met her parents two years ago and now she was running all over the place making her preferences known to her guests. She liked me better than Z, for the record! Yay!

On March 1st I got an sms from A, my uni friend that they'd been blessed with a baby daughter. I think they knew of the gender all along and had a generic sms typed up to be sent the moment her child had arrived 'cuz I haven't heard from her since, not even a reply to my sms. I'll call her up or send her an email soonest I think she's returned to Earth. The baby, I assume hogs mom's time all the time so I don't feel like disturbing new mommies. Update on it later.

Some time earlier W had told me that her cousin W I'd met at my friend W's wedding also had a daughter, MashaAllah. I include her in my list and I kind of know W's cousin W who already has a cutie-pie handsome little son.

My SiL's bro and SiL also were blessed with a son over the weekend, so I think this is not going to be a year of the girls anymore...when I was sharing my theory with W she doubted it strongly saying that so far she'd heard an equal number of boys and girls joining the baby ranks this year. So. But babies galore, MashaAllah. Or perhaps you start noticing such things more when you are in the expectant parent list yourself...

I was watching Godzilla on MBC2 today and as I came to the scene where Mommy Godzilla sees her babies scorched to death as Madison Square Garden is bombed, I wanted to cry…for Mommy Godzilla…and I was livid with rage with her as she chased the pesky humans!
Tyke’s arrival, it seems would be sooner than we thought (or it’s Abba wished for; April 1st). Every time I go for an U/S scan there is something new for us to worry about; the tyke is an attention seeker and mommy worrier already. Last time it was in the wrong position and now it has itself in a knot; the result, consultations, constant monitoring and torment for Amma. Asides not being able to attend a function I was long looking forward to and had got a new dress all stitched up for, it pushes our whole schedule forward by a good two weeks. Before I went for the U/S the doctor was telling me that I might uneventfully go past my EDD of March 26/27 as it was the first baby for me. But the Tyke had other ideas, it had already kicked up a storm inside me, making my bump look like an alien shape-shifter the nights before and during the U/S session. By the time I returned to the doctor with my U/S report with the ominous words ‘Evidence of cord around the neck’ the doctor had changed her tune. So basically we’re now on constant monitoring and instead of having to wait out till the EDD, I’ll have to go for a CTG Wednesday and see what the doc advises…she’s ruled out the EDD wait as a risk, suggesting an induction some times next week and God forbid even a C-section if it does not work. I'm nearing full term of 37 weeks and the Tyke might be a tad teeny for it's impatient arrival into the world, so all should be well. I need prayers, loads and loads of them all the same.

What To Buy When You Are Expecting

The part 2 to 9months to BabyD is taking too much time and so I guess I'll post the list of what all I brought before D was born.

It is not as if we are superstitious but we just didn't want to shop for the baby before the last trimester. We did go window shopping as and when I had the strength to but the only thing that we managed to buy in the first trimester was a receiving blanket that both Z and I had fallen in love with. It was orange and white knit with a white jersey type border. We couldn't find a matching cap with it but I had crochet cotton that matched and in the second trimester while I was on bed rest, I managed to crochet a cap for my baby. I did try to make matching booties but since I had never crocheted booties my entire life, I made something quite ajeeb out of it. (We later decided that we could use the single bootie that I made as a beret for a french doll that I could buy and dress up. That was never to be.)

Z came back in my last term and when I was given the green signal to go 'walking', we went shopping. By then we knew we were expecting a boy but what we didn't know was what size to buy. Anyway, we bought two white T-shirts, two sleep suits, a romper, a pair of booties, a pair of mittens and a cap. Before we could go shopping again, D was born.

The evening that BabyD was born, DaddyZ, Nanu, Nani and Aunnie Joey went shopping on my behalf with a list in hand of stuff I had asked them to bring. We now knew what size clothes to buy and so they came back with two more blankets (which I didn't think we needed but later found that they came handy. One to wrap, one for hospital trips and one for bas yunhi), three pair of really cute socks, three bodysuits, a gift box which had a shawl, romper, baby suit, cap, booties, mittens and a T-shirt ( gift boxes can sometimes be really great with all the stuff you need and they are money savers too but you have to make sure you like and need each and every item in it). We also bought a set which had a cap with matching booties and scratch mitts.

Most people don't think that scratch mitts are necessary because you keep a newborn all wrapped in a blanket but I have personally found that they really make a world of difference. Almost all newborns have long nails and they scratch themselves a lot. BabyD kept pulling his hand out of the blanket and kept scratching himself on his face. He looked quite funny when we put the mitts on him because his hands looked like paws! Another reason why mitts are useful is because babies tend to put their hands in their mouths. D was, literally speaking, born sucking his fist and keeping him wrapped up in a blanket meant that he collected lint on his hands and feet. Everytime he pulled his hand out to put his fist in his mouth we found that he had lint on them and tying them in mitts kept him from putting his fist in his mouth too. When buying mitts, I found that it was better to buy ones that came with lace that could be tied around the hands instead of the ones with elastic. BabyD was too smart for the elastic ones. Even at age 4 days, he could remove his mitts!

Along with clothes for him we also bought him a towel, a wash mitt, sleeping bag, a head support pillow, bedding and a baby carrybag. We had decided against buying a crib or a stroller that early and had decided that D would be sharing our bed and that we would be carrying him if we went out. Z and I wanted to go shopping for a crib together and since I was unable to even walk properly we decided to wait a month. One of our friends gifted BabyD a rocker and although I thought then that I couldn't use it right away, I was wrong. I am so thankful to them for bringing us such a thoughtful gift. It really made my life so easier. Even now that D is almost 4months old, I find that everytime D is sleepy I just have to put him in his rocker and he rocks himself to sleep.

The day we brought BabyD home, that night was the most difficult night of my life. D was hungry and we had only brought him two ready to feed bottles of formula. I was planning on BFing him and I didn't think we needed to buy bottles. Oh, how wrong I was! My advice to all women expecting a baby and shopping for their babies is that please, please don't make this mistake! Buy at the least 3 5ounce bottles, a thermos for hot water, ask your pediatrician what formula to give your baby and when you bring the baby home, bring the formula with him. Along with the bottles, you will also need a brush to wash bottles with, a steriliser or whatever you plan to use to sterilise the baby bottles and if you are planning on BFing your baby then you need a BF pump to express. The first few weeks the milk will be too less and although it gradually increases, it won't be enough. Expressing or pumping helps a lot and it is very handy if you plan on resting a while. Just pump and store to give to whoever is babysitting or keep it to feed at night.

That was about all that we bought. When I was packing my hospital bag, I had already bought baby powder, shampoo, lotion, oil, hair brush and nail clippers to keep him looking and smelling nice and clean.

Hmm... what did I forget? I'll update if I remember anything.:)

What Changes When You Become a Mom

Here is link from Babycenter.Com about stuff that changes when you have a baby. I agree, it is so true. Read it to know what I mean.

Here are a couple of things I'd like to add:

1. You actually want to do household chores in your free time.
2. You don't mind if your baby naps for only five minutes. In fact, you pray he sleeps for at least five minutes so that you can use the toilet!
3. You finally get your priorities right and you remember them 24/7.
4. Being unemployed doesn't bother you anymore. ( At least, I am not juggling a baby, a marriage, a home and work!!)
5. You become a pro at time management. ( Or at least I have, Alhamdulillah!!)
6. You no longer think of moms with big hand bags or baby bags as LS or NS ( LS: Low Standard, NS: No Standard)
7. Flat heels, jogging shoes, flip flops and the likes are in fashion all season. And so is a wash cloth or a towel on a shoulder.
8. You are forever on the look out for cool baby stuff or toys that can bring that toothless smile.
9. You now know what gift you can buy for your friend or her baby.
10. You don't mind sleeping for only four hours every night. In fact, you realize that even four hours of sleep is enough to keep you in 'working' order.

Update III: The Stork's assistants

Z's friend S (not included in the list, as we did not know of their enceinte status) had a baby girl yesterday. So the list of babies of 2008 that I know is now 14. I can also enlist Z's colleague who recently had a daughter too but since I've not met him, he's not included.

Z's a real fan of S, who was born on February 29, he actually wants his kid to be as intellectually gifted as his friend S, I just reply that the child would not have to go that far for intelligence, Mommy is intelligent enough for a whole continent inhabited and ruled by herself, so it just has to take after Mommy

Back to S and his daughter, our first reaction on receiving the sms was...what date is it? Turns out the baby girl decided against sharing her b'day with her Dad and came in five days earlier to avoid the leap.

Also I went for my bi-monthly check up yesterday. Last time I'd gone there, I'd seen a full term Filipina pottering around the corridors...and I'd wondered when she'd be having her baby...and yesterday I saw her in the hospital again, holding a blue bundle...I sooo wanted to go to her and congratulate and gush over the li'l one but then a nurse pulled up the curtains in the lab to give some 'alone' time to mom and son. But the lady who was getting her CTG done with me also looked to be due quite soon. My next visit is in another 14 days time, perhaps I'd get to see her baby and go ga-ga over it?

Update II: The Stork's assistants

A and her husband K had a son a day after W and A had a daughter BabyZ. That's MashaAllah four baby girls and a boy so far. New baby on the block already has an elder sis L...two and a half years old and very much the apple of her parents' and grandma's eyes. I've yet to see the new arrival and ask new mommy how her first is reacting to everyone going ga-ga over the li'l one.

On the other hand, BabyZ is a real doll, MashaAllah, with tiny perfect feminine features, a straight little nose, longish baby eye lashes and delicately shaped eye brows...she's petite and perfect with her fingers and toes...we spent the entire time working out who she'd taken after and then her grandma decided that she'd taken the best features from everyone and come in a tidy little perfect bundle. Her brother A was slightly less himself, especially as he saw his Mom W holding and nursing BabyZ...but he has his aunt A's undivided attention...and he knows how to get attention. How much can you play with a three day old? So while we gushed over BabyZ as she slept all the while we were there, we still played with A, and I think it's going to be that way till BabyZ grows up and starts doing interesting things...A is in that totally adorable, look-at-me phase.

Babyland News

The news from baby land are as follows.

On 18.2.08, I wrote:

1. D has finally found his hands and he now knows that he can pull, push, hit and suck with/at them. That means mommy has to be as alert as her sleepy self can be.

2. D made a trip to Madina the previous week and believe it or not he actually said his own salam... yes, DaddyZ and Nanu were as surprised as anyone around when he started his aghoon aghoon as soon as he reached the place. And this time too, he did not cry at the mosque.


3. D has also learned to clap and clasp his hands and ... he finds it funny.


4. D likes to sit in mum's lap while she blogs... and kick, bang and push at the table (with all force )while she types so that she keeps moving to and fro from the table.

On 03.03.08, I write:

1. D has learned to roll over on both his sides and also learned to roll back on to his back again. Which means, he rolls around and can roll over or off anything.
2. D has learned to move forward on his tummy too.
3. He grabs his toys, kicks Lalu Bear and Bholo Bear and loves to wrestle with Mickey in his akhaada (wrestling ring) which happens to be his crib too.
4. He now makes conversation and shows interest and curiosity in his surrounding.
5. He now understands when I am funny and doesn't smile or laugh bas yunhi.
6. He shows signs of anxiety when away from me or his father and this we realised when Z was away for two days. D wouldn't even smile and he showed lack of interest in sleep or food.
7. D has begun to wean. I can't actually say that he has begun to take solids 'cause what he is eating is quite watery. I have started him on Rice cereal as his first real meal and I gave him 1spoon of cereal in 4ounce of water which I am gradually increasing to make it to 5spoons of rice in 4ounce of water. The first week I gave him 1:4 on alternate days to make sure that he doesn't develop any allergy to it or get constipated. This is week two and we are having 2 spoons in 4ounce everyday followed by a drink of water. I am still worried that he could get constipated due to high iron content of rice cereal and lack of much fibre.

That is about it.

Update: The Stork's assistants

The count of babies of 2008 has to be revised to 13 now, A, my SiL's bro and SiL are also expecting their first child mid-March this year.

In the meantime glad tidings from W, she's had a baby daughter, Z last evening...and I am a brand new Khala again! AH, MA. I have yet to see my niece, but Aunty says she's an absolute janoo, W says she's a neat, tiny little bundle... and the cutesy little mews I heard from babyZ on the phone while talking to her mother were...easy-to-miss but hard-to-resist.

I'm also excited about how BabyZ's elder bro, A would react to a little child...he's used to attention all the time...how would he see the tiny one as a permanent fixture at his place and domain.

Once when Z and I stayed over at W's place over the weekend, A gawped and glared and watched us constantly wondering if these two new faces were to stay at his place for long...how'd he see his baby sister? Waise to the child is AH a complete ladies' man, charm itself in the presence of female company...but BabyZ is hardly company and we all know how men have double standards when it comes to dealing with their womenfolk and women in general. Let's see how he shapes up.

9 months to BabyD- 1

I agree with A… pregnancy stories are really the best kept secrets. Nobody ever tell you anything before you get pregnant and then everyone open up to you and come up with all sort of advises, stories and stuff that you wonder if you ever knew these women. Right from my mum to all my SILs, best friends, aunts and believe it or not even my grandma enjoyed telling me about 'what to expect when your expecting'. And I wonder if you noticed too but they'll tell you only that what you are supposed to know at that stage of pregnancy. For example, if you are in your first trimester they'll only tell you what to expect during your first trimester or how their first trimesters had been. They may mention the second and the third or the delivery but not as much as they tell you about the stage that you are in. It is as if you'll tax them for telling you a little more.

Okay here is my pregnancy story.

When Z and I first got married we didn't think about children. We were just too much in love to be wanting to share each other with anyone else. Not that we didn't want children, we did. 'It would happen when the time is right', we thought and right then the time wasn't right. We didn't even know each other, we had said and there was so much to settle into. A year passed, we celebrated our first anniversary but were still busy travelling and still trying to build a nest. We were travelling to and from RUH, had been to almost all the cities in the eastern region and had travelled to Bahrain and Qatar and were making plans to drive to Kuwait or the UAE when one fine morning I got up feeling funny. Funny, in the sense that I had hiccups and was burping. Knowing that I don't hiccup at all and having heard of a friend having hiccups during her pregnancy, I got curious. That evening when Z and I went shopping, I bought myself an HPT so much to Z's dismay that we ended up having an argument over it. Z didn't think I could be pregnant. He didn't want me buying an HPT because he was afraid a negative would upset me. I was so sure I could be that I felt that he didn't want children. We argued the night away, woke up late, hurried at breakfast so that Z wouldn't be late for work and in all that forgot about the HPT. It was 11am when I woke up from my morning nap to make lunch. Luckily, I remembered and decided to take the test then. It was positive and I could neither believe it nor could I contain my excitement. I thought I was dreaming and so called up my mother, who was in India then, to ask if I was. She was as excited as I was. I don't remember what I made for lunch that day or how the hour passed because when Z came home I was ecstatic. I told him the good news as soon as he stepped in and he listened quietly as I narrated everything that I had been through in the past one hour and when I finally finished, he asked to see the test kit. After staring at it for a full 5 minutes he looked at me and asked, "How reliable is it?" I was shocked by this guy. Oh yeah, I lost my fuse, cried, screamed at him and then went and slept. No amount of 'sorry' worked and when Z came home that evening we didn't talk. He didn't talk because he didn't want to get me started again. I didn't talk 'cause I wanted the news to sink in to him. When Z and I fight, it is like children fighting. We consider each other as foe till we cool down. We did become friends again that night and decided to take the 'wait and watch what happens' approach but the next evening we had to go see the doc. I had suddenly become too sick the next day. We thought it was emotional but anyway… She didn't even ask for a retest. We just proceeded as though I was pregnant but she did a USG and confirmed that I was expecting indeed. We were overjoyed and suddenly Z was all too caring, too responsible, too loving and too understanding. So much so that he got on my nerves.

What was my first trimester like? I have been told I was the luckiest because I hardly had nausea. What I had was food aversions, fatigue and hyperacidity. I was hungry all the time and if I didn't eat for more that two hours I would have acidity and eating after that would make me throw up. There were too many things that I just didn't like and even the mere mention of them would make me throw up. Shepherd's pie for instance. Three days after we found out that I was pregnant we had shepherd's pie for dinner and for some strange reason, I didn't like it. My nausea and vomiting started the very next day after that and through out my pregnancy I threw up every time I heard/read/said the name of that dish. Another funny thing about my first trimester nausea was that I threw up only on Saturdays, Sundays and Tuesdays. The rest of the week I would be fine. Fatigue was so bad, I didn't have the energy to even grab a packet of chips from my bedside table. But then when I had the energy, I would exhaust myself trying to be a super women.

The second trimester was spent house hunting because by then I had moved and I was too busy worrying about Z and setting up my home to notice how it went. Oh yes, I did eat too much chocolate and laughed too much because by then I had my sis clowning around me making sure I didn't stress out. Inspite of that I did end up on a bed rest because that is when I found out I had a low lying placenta.

The third trimester was spent waddling and watching my weight. I was too fat and too heavy. I couldn't see my feet and was too tired to do anything. I was clumsy and everything and everything dropped from my hands. I spilled hot tea on my hands and cried for three days blaming Z for letting me make tea for him. The last trimester was spent worrying about moving my furniture and stuff because the movers were giving us trouble and when it did arrive, I fretted and cried even more because most of my favorite stuff had been either lost or broken. I guess that is what tensed me enough to go into labor 24 days before my due date!

The delivery? What delivery? I didn't deliver my baby at all… they cut open my tummy(grossly speaking)! I guess I'll need to write another post if I want to say anything at all about the delivery.

Later.

Shame on me!

I am a bad bad mom! A really bad bad mom. :(

D has a rash all over his face and neck and the poor little baby looks so flushed red and all because his mom didn't know that chocolates could cause allergy! My father calls me the inexperienced mom and for good reason. Okay, so my defense is that you only learn through experience but... it looks like this experience isn't healthy.

D looked at me with such a longing, 'my mouth is watering' look when I held up that chocolate bar that I just had to give him some.... :( BAD idea! Anyway, the rash has been around for a week now and it is only now after I fed him chocolate for the third time this week that I realise that it is a rash and not prickly heat. Hmm... I have antihistamines for him.. but I guess I'll take the safe approach this time and go see the doc. On second thought... Since, he has a cold too, (Yes, I fed him the Cookie and Cream Icecream that I was eating too... * guilty*... ), I'll just make the excuse for that to see the doc. I know Daddy2D will be extremely ... er... how should I put it?... not pleased .

But I tell you, I learned a lesson from this and that lesson is: I guess this means D isn't ready for weaning yet.

Waise, for the record, the inexperienced mom has so far fed D with Ice cream ( on numerous occasions), given him a carrot to munch on, let him play with her glass bangles, wrapped a plastic bag around him when she found that nappies leaked... but.... it was all fun! :D

This was all written for the record. New moms please learn a lesson or two from me: DON'T EVER DO THIS!!

P.S: But I gotta tell you D looks so cute with red cheeks and he looked so cute with chocolate all around his mouth and on his nose.

The Stork had better have some assistants

This year is going to be a busy one for the Stork, with so many deliveries it has to make.

Here's a count of babies delivered or expected this year. And these are babies I would see, whose parents I know and have met...friends who are expecting also know other people who are in the same league, but I'm not including them in the list. So here's a list:

1. M, sis in law: She's had baby girl H in December last year, I always start the count at her.
2. F, sis: She's had baby girl D in January this year
3. N, Z's colleague's wife: had a baby girl R in January
4. A, a friend: expecting in February
5. W, friend : expecting in February
6. Z, blogger I've met and know: expecting February/March
7. A, uni friend: expecting in March
8. N, uni friend: expecting twins in March
9. A, yours bloatedly: expecting in March/April
10. S, cousin: expecting in May
11. A, other sis in law: expecting in July/August

With N's twins, that's a neat dozen babies to pray for, shop for, cuddle and hug and go ga-ga over.

That's a cricket team complete with an extra player.

The year's only started and with what it's been like so far, there would be some more expected babies that I might learn of in the coming days/weeks. So the count is still open.

It's going to be one busy year for the Stork with all those deliveries, it had better have some assistants...

To be or not to be concerned

Some days after I started on the journey to motherhood, I declared to all Moms in my circle that mothers, all mothers, have amnesia; they phase out all the pains and pangs they'd endured to become a mommy. All they remember is the feeling of absolute bliss when they first held their precious little one and later it becomes a poop-time tale telling match between Moms. Have you ever noticed how moms always gather together and exchange stories of their kids latest antics? No one thinks to include non-moms into the group, no one thinks it noble to warn other females of what they went through in their nine months of gestation. Then again, they say all pregnancies are different, each has its own trials and perhaps moms, when they gather together, share these knowing that they'd get the sympathy they seek. Before I forget or choose to wipe out what I went through to become a mom, I think it would be better if I record it.

Pregnancy, I thought earlier, was only nausea and throwing up (filmi style), cravings for certain foods, weight gain, a bump and a whole world of pain at the time of birth to bring the baby into this world. Any stories I'd heard from friends, cousin, sister or even my MiL were the same, all told of nausea, a complete loss of apetite in the first trimester and then food cravings later down the pregnancy. Any mention of labor pains (and only two women came forward with that) was sketchy, just that yes, it hurt like hell, but the moment they held their child in hands, all was forgotten. U went to the extent of saying that after all that pain and suffering, she saw her daughter and felt that was the sole purpose of her life, to give birth to the wonderful being that she'd nurtured within her for nine months. It was such a rosy, hunky dory picture. That and the fact that there are so many kids around us, our siblings etc. How difficult can it all be when out mothers and theirs before them had kids...women have been having kids and going through all this since Hazrat Adam and Hawwa (AS).

There is a world of information out there on the internet on pregnancy and related issues, chunkloads of money are made on books about pregnancy, child care and the likes. All this and you're still oblivious of this facet of life, completely unaware that such literature exists, or perhaps you'd always ignored it altogether. I did not know what I did, all I know is that I sought information when I entered the ring...and information came pouring in from all sides as well. I was, all of a sudden included 'in' the sanctum of mommies...then my eyes opened up to what I had in store for me. The best part is, no one would vouch forward with what lay ahead, but the moment you mentioned a trying time, stories would pour forth. It's amazing how closely guarded such incidents are, only when you are in the midst of it all and experiencing it would you learn more or similar tales of woe.

I'd gone to the doctor for a routine visit, when the nurse congratulated me before I stepped in the doctor's room and when the doctor confirmed it, I went numb. That's what I felt, complete numbness...and perhaps helplessness. I know other women who'd been ecstatic at their 'news' irrespective of how many times they'd gone through it earlier already. I came home and cried and for better part of the coming week, I was weepy and crying. Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I did not want it, the news was just overwhelming and I felt helpless, forlorn, trapped, I did not know who to turn to. I mean how can you douse the spirits of a jubilant dad-to-be? A major reason behind this, I guess was the fact that I was here on my own. Back home this news would have travelled as fast as telephone lines could relay it, everyone would've been happy. Here, every thing was muted, subdued. I've lived a life cocooned in love and care, being cherished every breathing moment just for being me. My comings and goings, in my immediate and extended family, were news of joy...all that unconditional love and attention is spoiling. I know it spoiled me for anything any less than that...imagine having a bucket full of cold reality and loneliness thrown in your face when you learn of the most momentous thing in your life…that those who love you most are not there with you. So I cried. I cried at having cried. I cried fearing that I would not make a good mother, I cried fearing I would not be able to love the child as much as it deserved, that I was such an undeserving mother, such a thankless candidate for the honor. And most of all I cried knowing that it would not get the kind of attention and love that I was lucky to get from my family. It's all so unfair for the life within me, it hadn't even got a heartbeat at the time it's mother was crying.

It's been six months since and the heart beats have become movements, kicks, jabs and squirms within me and each day I love it more...and fear more and cry more for it...it's scary, to love a child you haven't even seen or held in your hands and cry for it. I don't think I've cried as much in my entire life as I've cried in these past months. And honestly, I don't care much for the physical pains and sufferings I've been through so far, the nausea, wooziness, persistent aches...not even the thought of labor scares me, I'm ready to take on anything for the baby. Emotionally it's been hell. There are days when I feel I'm on top of the world, when I feel utterly blessed and then there are days when I'm totally down in the dumps, deep in despair. If someone were to ask me what I felt like, I'd say I feel like an apple that's been put through a juicer...all that remains of me is the dry, brittle pulp, every bit of joy drained out.

All reading that I've done so far encourages moms to talk to their bumps, I feel silly so I don't do that. I fear the baby would be more familiar with my sniffles than my voice...as it is it hears more from the TV than from its parents! Also I noticed, since movement became noticeable, that it seems to be more active when I'm upset. I've lain awake at nights, wallowing in self-pity, stressing myself out and the baby kicks its support inside me...it gets restless when I cry. Its at peace when I am. And this worries me too. What kind of a mother would I make if I keep the baby through such an emotional turmoil? What influence would get from my dark moods. I try to stay positive and upbeat, just for the baby...but I fail. It doesn't help that the baby's decided to not get into a proper position and give me more cause for concern. And all that stressing and worrying on my part may affect it as the chemicals released in the brain to my emotional upheavals reach the baby. There's little that can be done to prevent this. I can perhaps stress myself out to be happy and stay positive, force optimism...or binge on chocolate.

Growing up is fun...

How to compensate for no updates? Pictures... let them do the talking. Okay so in my case, I do most of the talking ... I like to talk and interrupt... :D

Baby D is growing up and out of most his clothes and I hadn't given it much thought until I came across his first pair of socks while tidying up his stuff. Compare it with what he is using these days and I am really shocked that this has been in just two months. When I first put socks on him two days after he was born... they didn't even fit him. He was too tiny to wear socks then. MashaAllah, he is growing up well! Now... as soon as I can find that perfect pair of shoes...

In the other news, Baby D performed his first Umrah on Friday. It was something we had been waiting and planning for quite sometime and believe it or not, all the stuff I had worried about, D could get scared of crowds, he'd cry during prayer time, he'll catch a cold, he'll be exhausted, I can't do Sa'ee..., nothing like that happened. It was really cold that evening and while there were children all around dressed in sweaters, jackets and hoodies, my two and half month old baby was bravely wearing an ahram or to put it more precisely, he was wearing a little more than a diaper. He looked such a darling in his crisp white cotton cloth of an ahram. Yes, we did take pictures and yes, he did like being dressed like the way he was. D kept waving his left arm up in the air and looking at the cloth being raised in the air with his arm. Alhamdulillah, not once did he cry during the whole of Umrah that lasted about three hours with Isha'a in between. Nanu and Aunnie had come along... they get separation anxiety every time D goes out for more than 3hrs. After the Umrah, we went around the streets of Makkah for a full hour trying to find one barber who could shave off D's hair. The ones we met were too scared and uncomfortable working on a baby that 'tiny'. (Oh yeah, we removed his hair the first time when he was four weeks old!) Anyway, we did find a badhe miyan who was very happy to do it. Yes, D did befriend him and Dad and Z told me later that D kept babbling trying to talk to them. Wow, what a kid!

We finally found toys for D. Okay they are not stuffed toys anymore... they are rattles and teethers. More on that some other day. D is awake... gotta run

Moms to-be about town

Alhamdulillah for girl friends, what would you do without them? I have so much to be thankful for when it comes to Waj, asides the fact that she was the one who match-made for me and Z, she's also my senior in the maternity hierarchy - she has an adorable tyrant-in-the-making son AA and another baby due next month InshaAllah. Some weeks my gestational senior, she's one good ear to turn to when it comes to sharing pregnancy woes, aches, concerns and joys. Also the perfect partner when it comes to catharsis and a general unburdening of the oft ungrateful species we agreed to for life - our husbands. But this is just about two moms to-be and their adventures about town.

Waj kind of cheated on me, she tempted me into marrying Z, suggesting how great it would be for us two to be house-wives and have fun in town once I was here, just like the good old days excepts we'd be mistresses of our time...Bliss. But then she shifted a whole hour's drive away to RAK and now her visits to town are when she's due for her routine ante-natal visits and our meetings are limited to the time I usually accompany her to the hospital. It was fine early one but now I have a whole lot of reservations about her driving when nearing full term but that's her choice and it's difficult to reason with the woman.

Last time Waj came over, we took a cab, went to the doctor, she'd left AA with her mom in RAK and was in no mood to waste the visit, so to speak...we decided to have a nice girlie-time and went to a salon for haircuts and facials, had lunch, window-shopped and came home for a heart to heart on husband behaviorisms (Her husband and mine are friends and have so many 'husbandly' traits in common they might as well be twins, but then all men are similar husbands). Good day.

Yesterday was more fun than last time. We did not have an assasination unfolding before our eyes on TV to end the fun-filled day.

Waj is nearing her full-term and I've just started my last trimester, we both look like waddling aunties, quite a sight. We started our day with a visit to the doctor, then had nice aloo parathas for brunch - the weather is so rainy these days - then went over to Mr. Bakers for desserts, all before noon. If people did a double take seeing us both cavorting as best as our conditions would allow, I didn't notice. I would later in teh day.

She hadn't slept a wink all night and I'd gotten up before dawn after being kicked awake by the footballer-wannabe inside me, we were both weary and tired to our bones, in fact we've stopped sharing our aches and pains, it's a given we'd be aching all over any and all the time. We only talk about it when it gets worse than usual, achey has become a permanent condition of being. We should have headed home and rested but Waj had a better idea, we'd go to Mega Mall and get a nice massage. We'd tried it once earlier, Waj and I, and liked it so much that in a fit of magnanimity we called over our husbands and sent them in for half an hour's bliss.

The massage place was full and we had to wait 40 minutes for teh next slots to be available, we were in a mall and earlier the wait would've been nothing, but no amount of imagination can descibe the crest-fallen look two weary, tired, aching-all-over moms to-be sported on their faces. So we thought we'd while away the time visiting the numerous baby clothes shops near-by, some of them having sales signs. How is it that all shops have the cutest girl outfits and so limited options for girls? And whoever said you had to dress up boys in blue and girls in pink all the time? And how come a teensy weensy bit of clothing costs the same as a grown up's outfit? But nothing beats the excitement of shopping for baby clothes, I should know. By the time our li'l one arrives, I think I'd have gotten something from all baby shops around town...and that's when I'm being practical about buying for the kid! How can you NOT buy that cute little tee and polo shirt and matching socks? But I digress. Waj and I were trudging along shops, commenting how the shops wares were not that great a catch and lamenting that the mall had taken away all benches where we could rest awhile. There were still 25 minutes to kill and we had not the slightest energy to do any part of the mall. We entered a cafe thinking to buy a bottle of water and then theinking what next to do. The cashier had one look at us, did a double take and was all flustered...and concerned...please be seated, he urged us, then...'you'd be more comfortable on the couch.' Waj said he looked at her bump when suggesting the couch. She found it embarassing, I thought it was hilarious, how quickly he jumped to our side and made sure we were seated comfortably before asking for our order...just a bottle of water! It was fun, taking such blatant advantage of our conditions, in fact the advantage was given to us. People all over, I think find it fascinating to see a 'bump' and start speculating over when the baby would be due and it's gender. It's also strange how you start noticing all those pregnant women around you, and li'l babes being carried around, and prams and push-chairs...things you never noticed earlier.

We rested on the couch, drank water and laughed over the incident. I think the cashier had one look at us both and thought there'd be one of those TV/movie moments where he'd have to call a cab to rush us to the hospital. The problem was, I, Waj's companion, was myself in not much of a position to assist her should her time come. It was funny.

Some moments later we got a call from the massage place and went over. At first we thought we'd get the head and neck massage we'd got earlier, but once seated in the soothing environ I wasn't keen to get out any time soon, we changed to the Divine massage lasting a whole blissful one hour! The masseuse touched our spines and we were ready to crash...I think they both saw our states and felt our knotted muscles because they touched us and asked if it pained in the back...'oh, it aches all over,' we replied in unison. One absolutely relaxing hour of being attended to...all aches and pains kneaded away, starting from the back to shoulders and neck and head, ending on the feet...absolute bliss...I'd have slept if I didn't fear I'd miss out on experiencing the massage. We were all set to sleep on their recliners after our time ended...but all good things come to and end, so we readied to head home amidst chatters from both the masseuse on our conditions, guess-work on our terms and gender of the baby. Earlier I'd have thought it too prying, now I realise that people just enjoy talking about new life. I know I like sharing movement news and what new thing AA learnt the day...

We rushed home, not wanting to waste the massage. It became a mantra, let's not waste the massage, go home and rest. Even the weather in its wet, wintry glory could not tempt us to drive around and enjoy it. Home, home, home, rest, rest, rest...Fit end to a day about town. Husbands and their familiar refrains...that we are fresh and all active when we're with our girl friends, was to be addressed later. But first, the rest, the two Moms to-be had had a great day about town.

Mommy says...

The best way to avoid PPD ( Post Partum Depression) is to find friends that you can talk to and learn that they actually understand what you're talking about!

Guess what? I realise, I already have friends who are in the same boat as me. I am blessed, Alhamdulillah.

Hmm.... I need to go bathe Baby D. Hey..... I haven't used the word 'bathe' in writing for ages... What a discovery?!!! ( Please observe and learn: This is what I call 'Postpartum Brain or simply PPB) See what a great therapy this blog is? I am already unwinding and feeling great about myself.