(From drafts..I wanted to put up pics with these but too lazy right now..)
It’s been a month of gifts and visitors (it continues to be. And since the first visitor set precedence by getting gifts the others have to follow suit so the stream of gifts shall also continue unabated).
First to arrive was pullissery, from the UK no less. And by royal mail. From Munch.
Lakshmi was here and she brought, among other things (CDs for me and glasses for Vin), a dress for youknowwho. This was before she fell into a Rocky mountain lake, lost her senses and some skin and gained the bluest bruise.
And then, we went over to Thushara’s place and collected my gift hamper that had come all the way from India. So much stuff. Books by Malayalam writers (to feed or fan nostalgia, we’ll see) from achan/amma, kuzhambu and thailam – just what the doctor ordered for the clumsiest pregnant person on earth, thamaravalyam (lotus stem fries) and a whole wardrobe of dresses from the sister.
I don’t think anyone’s experience of the pregnancy can be as special as the sister’s. Even beats the spouse’s feeling sometimes. That’s one of my biggest losses this time around, not being in the same place as her. Maybe the next time..Which brings us to siblings and why I want more than one kid..But that is another post altogether.
Or all the ‘ex’s. Thank you, whoever and wherever you are, for having been good with massages. And for training him thus. My back is much obliged to you.
PS: I’m told all he got were head massages for migraine or whatever. Frankly at this point it doesn’t matter.
The latest question plaguing the expectant household (or its single actively expecting member) is who’ll catch the baby. Of the many side effects of attending prenatal yoga with Boulder’s (homebirthing, yogadoing, hennatattoo_on_tummy_getting – yesyes remind me to write about that) hippie moms is the opportunity to ingest important and exciting questions as these into my fertile mind.
Not to make light of it, I’d like it if Vin’s hands were the first to touch the baby. He however is reluctant to step up (down actually :P) to the responsibility, mostly for fear of dropping said gooey slippery baby. I’ve been trying to tell him the baby won’t come flying at him like a projectile, that the doctor’s hands would be pretty close (2nd slip) and nobody’s going to stand around and watch him drop the baby – to no avail. We’ve finally decided to refer matters to the only person Vin trusts in these matters ..my doctor. (who has a reputation for dispensing advice that is always to Vin’s advantage..like the time he said it is okay for me to lift anything so long as I don’t try to lift a couch or something Nagavalli style, which means everytime I hand off a grocery bag to Vin he hands it right back saying its not a couch).
We’ve taken to talking to the baby, as if it were really listening to it all from the tummy. No, none of the sweet talking-to-the-tummy or playing classical music to it. Yet. This is more by way of conversation like she were in the room. And mostly it is about taking sides in Vin’s and mine fights. (Have to start working their loyalties early, although clearly, I’m at an advantage for now. What with total and complete dependence)
Anyway I sometimes say ‘Achan is like that, ignore him. He is mean, he doesn’t love you’ and all that. And Vin’s biggest retort is ‘She made you for her own selfish cause’. Now, this, I’m trying to make sense of. Of course I made a baby (I didn’t quite do it alone, like Kunti in the puranas, but I insisted we make one) because I wanted one. No doubt. Isn’t that how it works all the time. How could I have loved it even beyond it existed. And after all I made the baby coz I could give it all my love. That makes it selfless right? In fact this is the most selfless thing I have *ever* done. What do you guys think (if you can make any sense of all this)?
Not that it is a suspense anymore to most people who read the blog. It shall be a girl, the baby I conceived and even named in my mind before in real. One that will be sweet and will play with dolls and one I can play dress up with (until she grows a mind of her own and is convinced of mommy’s poor taste). Although I do sometimes think I should raise her to be a tomboy just to spite a certain spouse who wanted a girl only coz they are ‘nicer and sweeter and quieter and all that’.
Now this can go both ways. She can be a mummy’s girl like my cousin P, one who’s in grad school and still can’t pick a dress without her mom’s consent or like the sis and I she might become a Daddy’s girl. Prolly the latter coz I should pay for my sins. Paavam amma. Can’t wait for her to get here.
And Vibha it is. Well, hopefully. Coz the Vin who in drunken stupor admitted he likes the name is now objecting to it on ground of it being a name with meaning. Or threatening to object. Thing is, he’s the only person I have given even a semblance of veto power (only coz I was sure back then that he wouldn’t care. How mistaken was I)
PS: This post is dedicated to a certain reader who thought I should have a ‘It is a girl post’
PPS: If you readers, (yes, the 5 of you and that isn’t even an exaggeration) don’t comment and mouth words of encouragement at every post I’m going to lose steam and shut down the blog.