7th Month

Women feel so emotional at times, feel like crying for no obvious reasons, especially during pregnancy. Men just don't get it, do they? 

I have explained to Sathya, like a nursery teacher explains ABCD to a kindergartner, that all you have to do, when I am emotional, is HUG me. No, nothing else is required. Your smart-ass comments - NO. Your 'be practical' advice - NO. Your problem solving tips and suggestions – NO. Preferably, just don’t open your mouth to drop any of your male-ego satisfying, 'I know it all' gyan. Just hug me. If you still must open your mouth, open it to make sounds like ‘ummm’ ‘haan’ ‘hmm’ I know you think it's not good enough but trust me, a hug with these sounds for company, does it for most women, when we are crying our heart out. The hug reassures us that, you are with us and the sounds that, you have not zoned out or dozed off and are actually really listening to us. Quite simple, isn’t it? 12 years of marriage and 2 pregnancies later, I still have not succeeded in making my otherwise socially-intelligent and emotionally-sound husband to implement this.

Here's what happened this week. As of 28^th November, I am 29 weeks pregnant, 7 months, start of the third trimester. The baby is in a posterior position which means the head is  down and legs up, his back pressing hard against mine. His jabs are stronger, more frequent and all three of us have felt and seen the kicks – the skin bouncing up, the hard kicks, the movement of the limb from one point to another, the hardening of the stomach walls. 7th month also means frequent urination,so frequent that not able to hold in even a drop. 7th month also means there is no position comfortable enough to sleep. I am constantly struggling to place the tummy and find it really hard to sleep; which last night pushed me into a desperate purchase of a body pillow from Amazon. Two months to go before the baby comes and I want to sleep as much as I can through my third trimester. I didn’t use a body pillow during Tanvi’s pregnancy but back then, I didn’t have a smartphone, didn't use the internet much and didn’t even know such a thing existed.

On 24th Nov, completed a 5-day training for Lakme and the very next day fell sick. By Sunday morning, I ran a temperature. My arms and legs were weak, eyes burning. At the hospital, they took a urine test for possibility of a urinary tract infection (UTI) and put me on drips to bring down the temperature. Went home, took the prescribed tablets Dolo 650 (yuck) and Tracfree Cranberry Extract (yum). By Wednesday, felt much better. But that afternoon, I woke up from my nap with severe chills. My body was shivering like a leaf caught in a storm. Sathya was worried and rushed me to the hospital. The physician asked us to do a urine culture and prescribed monocef. 

While waiting in the hospital, I held Satty’s hand, showed him the women who had come with their mothers and, with tears in my eyes, told him how most women take their mothers' presence and help during their pregnancy for granted. They pour out their frustration, anger and irritation at their mother. They never think that they should not speak rudely or in a harsh tone to their mother. Would they do it to their mother-in-law? No. Never. Not even in their dreams. That woman would never understand. But mothers are understanding and bear your wrath. If I had my mother with me, perhaps I too would behave similarly. But for me mother, husband and friend all three are one person only - he. I told him please don't be angry with me if behaved with him how other women behave with their mothers. And then I folded my fingers and planted a 'pappi' (kiss) on his cheek. He was, of course, very embarrassed by this public display of affection in the hospital.

When we came home, my state of mind was still tipsy. I was imagining, how it would be, had my parents been alive, how Sathya was father, mother, husband and friend to me. I started weeping and called out to him - thrice. I called out to him thrice! He was chatting with Tanvi and her friends in the hall, and kept asking 'what-what-what' but didn't come. Finally,
I screamed "COME and sit next to me".
He came and asked, "What?" 
I said, "Sit here." 
He complained, "No place to sit."
I shouted “Make place and sit". I asked for his hand, told him I wanted to hold it for a while. 
He asked, "Which hand?" Seriously man?????! 
Anyways, I had held it for a while when he said, "I can't sit in this position for long time" and came and slept next to me. 
My tears had just started pouring out, when he said the dreaded words, "Don't cry. There is nothing to cry."
I wanted to cry, I wanted to unburden the weight of my emotions, I wanted to feel light. 
I replied, calmly, "Yeah right. Thanks. You can go now."

Men and their 'flat like a tyre', 'detached like a monk', completely unemotional response to a totally emotional situation!!!!!! Speechless!

6 Months Completed

Completed 6 months, the second trimester. 

I can't see the tiny side bone on my ankle anymore. It's buried under all the new fat. Toes are visibly plump. I had to remove my toe-rings. I have already given away a big bag of clothes that I can't fit into anymore. And ordered my first 'nighty' from Amazon. I have not worn one since ... forever!

Strangely, I have never felt to eat raw mango even once during these 6 months. In fact, I did not feel so even in the earlier pregnancy. A pregnant woman craving for raw mango must be one of those over-rated movie cliches.

I remember my dreams were full of food last time. I was underfed and feeling hungry and craved for food during my waking hours. This time, I have not dreamed of food even once. I enjoy every little morsel that I eat even if it is something as simple as a boiled egg. Everything is tasty and I have not said no to anything. I am thankful for this. I truly am. Most pregnant women don’t realize the value of food because they are pampered silly during all their pregnancies. They do not know what not having means. They do not know what longing for and thinking about food all the time means. And I hope it stays that way. But I know! I have been through it. And today, it makes me so grateful for every plate that I have relished and polished off.

I am 64 kilos now. I was 58 at 3 months. That makes it a 6 kilo jump. I gained the max between the 5th and 6th month, that is, Oct to Nov. A friend remarked on FB: if I am 60 at 6 months, does that mean I will be 80 at 8 months?!! OMG! Scary thought.

3 months and 6 months

I had not observed and reacted with glee to the movements of the baby in the earlier pregnancy. This time I am observant of every little change, every twitch, every kick, every pain, every progress. I am eating well. I am sleeping well. I am happy. This is how I wanted my pregnancy to be. I had wished for it after Tanvi and I can’t believe God actually made my wish come true. I can’t believe I too am actually experiencing a pleasant and happy pregnancy.  I thought I was not fortunate enough for that and had made my peace with it.

God sometimes has the best plans laid out for you. Actually, not sometimes, - always. If I had not known the darkness of my first pregnancy, I would not have been able to enjoy the light of this one. Everything is in comparison to it. Everything is better too in comparison to it. Not just my own daily routine or health - both mental and physical - but also the relationship that I share with Sathya today. There is a sea change. Earlier, there was love but there was more pain, stress, distrust, doubt, anxiety, uncertainty. Now, there is a quiet assurance in everything we do. I am content because I am relaxed in the comfort of his care.

At 7 months last time, I remember telling one of his friends, I think it was Babu, that I will abort the baby. Things were SO bad! I am onto my 7th month now and I can’t wait to hold my baby in my arms. But most importantly, I can’t wait to hold him along with Tan and Satty. I can’t wait to see their faces. I can’t wait to show them the little one hiding inside me all these months.

Pregnancy is a wonderful phase in a woman’s life and only when one actually goes through it does one realize its full impact. 

Recovery

One thing Tanvi repeatedly says is that she has not been able to see the baby on the monitor like we have. She has not heard its loud heartbeat. Every time there is a check-up date, she begs to tag along. But so far, all the check-up dates have fallen on a weekday. And since we don’t want her to miss her school, we don't take her. Also, we don’t know if children are allowed into the room where the scanning happens. The 6^th month check-up due on Nov 11th is a regular one. Maybe the 7^th or 8^th month when there will be another scan we should take her too. She also can feel and see the baby inside the womb and “see” it on the monitor and listen to the doctor who explains stuff.

Oh yeah! This is true. When kids are really little, their every movement feels great especially the awkward, funny, clumsy dance movements they do. With Tan, I loved the way she danced to the rhyme “I am a little tea pot”. It was Sathya’s and my favorite. 

I remember one incident that pained me a lot at the time. I was in office. Sathya had picked up Tanvi from her babysitter and taken her to his house and dropped her back at the babysitter right around the time I went to pick her up and take her home. I didn’t know all this until a year later when his youngest brother accidentally said, “Sathya brought Tanvi home and we made her dance and she danced to this and this song”. I was shocked! When was this!  And why was this! None of them – grandparents, two uncles – had ever even turned around to be with Tanvi or take care of her or buy her anything or even come and play with her, the godly grandmother had not even given old, used/torn clothes to be used as diaper for the baby - NOTHING AT ALL – that was the level to which their non-commitment was to this new relationship and her growing up years and here was Sathya who had taken the little girl to dance in front of them and entertain them!

One full year for recovery! Who knew that! Most of us plunge right back into the routine of life. We have to. I don’t think most mothers, the world over, have the luxury to take it easy after the delivery, that too for a whole year. 

My neighbor, whose house is bang opposite ours, had a baby last year. We never saw her pregnant, and she is really aged, so it must be through surrogacy. He is over a year old now. She has a full time 18 year old girl to look after the baby plus an elderly woman who comes and works as a nanny during the entire day plus a house-help who does the regular chores around the house plus her two siblings plus her husband and one more woman who is a relative. So many people to look after the baby!!!!  That is what I call luxury. 

Musings

This is so funny. Look at his expression!

Luckily, Tanvi doesn’t have to hear any of it because hers was one of the shortest labor. At least that is what I have heard from many other mothers. 

Her due date was 23^rd of June. On the 1^st of June, her head was fixed. On the 6^th, the water broke. From the time I was taken to the operation theater to the actual delivery, it was all over in 2 hours. 

I have heard of labors that have lasted almost a day.

  

Don’t know what is going to be my fate this time around?

Hope Tanvi’s little brother or sister is going to be as sweet and as much in a hurry to come out as she was!









Right now, this is how my nights feel like. The image on the right puts it well.

Every time I roll over, I have to lift the weight of the new package in me to the other side, place it gently there and try to sleep again. Have read that sleeping on the left side is the best position to sleep in.

Most of my old clothes are tight now. I have already kept aside a big bag with clothes that I cannot fit into anymore.


This pic was taken last month when I had already completed 5 months and was rushing towards the 6th month. On that particular evening, the jerks were more pronounced. We could even "see" the skin on the tummy moving. Tanvi was constantly talking to the baby, tapping and tickling to elicit more kicks. 

This and That

I loved this part. 

I still do. 

Now, I chase 11 year old Tanvi around the house, sometimes pleading with her, sometimes threatening her, sometimes begging her, sometimes forcing her, sometimes blackmailing her – basically doing everything or whatever I can to get her to let me cut her nails. 

Till she was almost 5 years old, she was totally under my “nail-cutter control”. I used to bend over her, every week and cut her nails – fingers and toes. 

I miss those days of pure bliss now.  Ever since she has become strong and able to run away from me, cutting her nails has been a weekly ‘fight of the fittest’.  

Some mothers chew the nails off the fingers of their new born baby. I could never do that. That I find scary. But cutting with nail cutter is a much-looked forward to activity for me. One more round of nail-cutting with the new baby. Yippee!

Oh this is so true!!! I was on tenterhooks all the time. I don’t remember taking a shower in peace throughout the period of Tanvi’s infancy. It was horrible actually.  I would keep the door slightly open, keep peering out in between and constantly try to hear her sound – of weeping or sobbing or gurgling or waking up or moving – whatever. The tough part was when you would be covered in soap and at that very instant you would hear the baby crying. A hurried throw of the remaining water in the bucket and out you are to attend to her.

This time I am hoping to let Tanvi watch over the baby while I finally bathe peacefully at least once during two of my kids’ growing up years.