Chez Moi

Mind numbing though it is, it sure is true. 7 years ago today, S and I got hitched in front of friends and family. As we both are from different communities, we decided to have an Arya Samaj wedding. Well, I decided and he concurred! And it was a beautiful ceremony. Only snag was, as one of my cousins put it, we knew exactly what we were signing up for, with the priest explaining the mantras in Tamil and English.

It was funny sitting there and murmuring the unfamiliar words, followed by the explanations and to have married cousins and friends whisper ‘Shucks man! I never knew I agreed to do that!’ The venue was Sri Shirdi Baba Mandir in Injambakkam, ECR, Chennai and right beside the beach. So the previous evening, my folks had arranged for a get-together for my side of the family. It was a beautiful evening, peaceful, surrounded by the fragrant trees and the grand finale was sitting on the shores of the sea with my closest friends around me.

The food was a high point - the contractor was an old friend of the family and he took care of everything. From beautiful garlands for us to the seer bakshanams, mouth-watering grub for breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner. He made our wedding and reception food unforgettable. My parents heard for months afterward from friends: ‘Went to this wedding last week pa, the food was hardly a patch on your daughter’s wedding!’

Anyways, that was the day.

The past seven years have been eventful, to say the least. Many, many hiccups, some made by us, some contributed by others, as is the case with most families. But we have weathered them so far and hope we shall continue to do the same.

So let me finish by saying to the hubby, onwards and upwards!

So we had the first scan today, at 12 weeks. I was apprehensive about it for two reasons - any possible anamoly and more importantly, the requisite full bladder. Keeping a litre of water in for more than an hour, when I know my bladder is full is a feat I have never attempted before. My bladder generally works on a ’see water, will go’ principle. The time I had to sit in a half-day long training with the coffee machine going ‘drip drip drip’ less than two paces behind me was the most torturous thing, bladder-wise, till date.

I downed half litre an hour in advance and kept sipping from a 500 ml bottle the rest of the time in a move to take things easy. As S kept going around in circles (literally) in search of that elusive parking space, I had to hoof it to the Maternity Ultrasound unit. Having so much water sloshing inside me while I was pounding the pavement was painful, let me tell you.

For the first time in the history of my NHS experience, my name was called a mere five minutes after I sat down and wasn’t mangled, chewed and spat out in a way I did not recognise it - another first! Off I went, lay down on the bed and the nice lady with the doofus started prodding me.

‘Ooh a nice full bladder, very good’, was her opening statement.

As I was gritting my teeth tightly at that point, I couldn’t risk any pithy comments.

Next came the dreaded ‘uh oh!’

And I was like ‘what? what? Are there more than one? Wassamatter?’

‘No, no, dear, don’t panic. The baby is just upside down!’

Eh? Sure enough, there the little mite was, showing us her/his bottom. Nice!

So the nice lady tells me to pootle to the loo and do a ‘little wee to the count of 20′ and come back in. ‘No worry, dear, we have got all morning!’ was her parting shot.

I walked in to the loo. How the hell does one do a ‘little wee’ when you have so much liquid inside you that is threatening to do a Niagara if you so much as do a sneeze? It was bloody hard, I tell you, fighting nature.

Back in, take 2. Thankfully the baby had decided to play nice and lie down. But what a difference from Big Bro! P was such a sweetie - he just lay there and let the sonographer do his bit and take piccies. This one seems to be a bit of a drama queen. For the next ten mins, the nice lady kept going ‘ooh don’t you do that, you naughty baby’, ‘come back here!’, ‘oh no you don’t!’, all punctuated with nice deep prods too near my still full bladder.

Finally she got the baby where she wanted and she went out and bellowed for S to come in and join us. As she sat down to show us which is where, the drama queen tried to turn and swim away! Cue another prod. It was a scream to see the lady prodding and the baby posing with a hand on her (got to be a girl!) head, like a tired movie star! It was surreal to see the ickle baby form - with the tiny heart beating like a hammer. Brought back memories of the first time - with P, I was still in the denial stage then and seeing him on the screen was the first step towards accepting that there was a baby in there and he is mine. This time, it was ‘ooh I hope everything is fine’ kind of feeling but wonderful, nonetheless.

P’s opening statement to me at the school gates was ‘did you get the pic of the baby? Where is it?’

Apparently he thought I would be standing there waving the pic like a mad woman. He could hardly contain himself till we came home and I showed him. His face, when confronted with the vague, blurry squiggles was a picture!

‘Is THAT the baby? Really?’ he couldn’t believe it!

He has changed his mind about his choice of a sibling - after weeks of insisting that he wanted a brother only (’cos girls are slow, Mummy and they squeal!’), he has decided to plump for a sister. And that he is going to be the deciding authority when it comes to naming the baby and buying her stuff - baby cot, buggy, the works. He has even offered to do the nappy change, though I don’t think I will hold him to that!