Candid, not Candied

Monday, 28 January 2013

Motherhood - The Beginning

Previously written Pregnancy - Finding outPregnancy - Middle GroundPregnancy - The Last Leg and The Awaited Childbirth

It took me few hours to come out of the heavily induced sleep. That day, I did not get to hold my baby at all. Anyway she was asleep for most of the day.

That night I got the shock of my life. My girl decided to turn on her lung power. The screeching was only too loud for the small room. Her cry seemed to resonate throughout the hospital. I was worried and a bit embarrassed too. My mother was with me and she called in the nurse. It was time for her night feed. It was just an hour and a half, when we experienced another wail. This time it was soiled diaper. The nurse came up again and gave a refreshers course to my mom on how to hold, handle, change and wrap the baby. The cries continued at an interval of 30 minutes to an hour, depending upon the situation. I still had all the pipes and IVs in me; hence I was only an immobile observer of this night scene.

I was getting frustrated being so tied down. I could hardly move. And in spite of the IV, I was feeling hungry. The nurses said it was impossible, but truly I could feel my stomach growling and I wanted something solid to keep it in. Not to mention the added irritation of not being able to hold my little one being unable to sit up.

On the third day, I was made to sit up and walk around. Thankfully, I did not pass out. Maybe it was my keenness to be able to be mobile again, but I didn't feel faint or didn't stagger my steps. I had a lot of heaviness where I was cut and stitched up. Though there was no pain. I walked over to my baby and took her in my arms. The moment was surreal. Till then, anytime I wanted to be near her, my mom would bring her and let me see her from close quarters.

I was, however, given strict instructions not to sit for too long and strain myself. It was also the day I would begin breast feeding. I was looking forward to it and all that famous "special bond" thing. What I encountered was excruciating pain, soreness and heaviness. All this while I was thinking, rather made to believe that breast milk starts coming in as soon as you deliver. But things seem to be different with the C section cases. It is said that the contractions trigger the milk glands and hence your body gets a clue to supply milk. In my case, I never felt a single contraction.

The nurses came in to aide in the feeding. While one was teaching me how to hold the baby so that she latches on the right way, the other one was educating me on how to massage the chest in order to effectively express milk. Although the entire thing seemed to go the wrong way, the nurses insisted that I keep doing it till the baby latches on properly. They were sure that it would get easier with every feed.

My baby had no problem latching on. It was the lack of milk supply that made her scream. It was an equal nightmare for me (and for many days to follow) that I was getting bruised each time she latched on and tried to suckle.

I was still not flexible or fast and wasn't even allowed to be. That night when my mother cleaned her up again after a potty episode, I cried. I was much too obligated and felt like a burden to my mother. There she was, doing everything for me and the baby and I was hardly even helping. I stood there and cried as I watched my mother do what she did so swiftly.

You feel bad when you can't do what you would have given anything to do. Like holding the baby, rocking her to sleep and even changing potty diapers for numerous times. It felt like I am missing on some precious moments. And from being so lean and bouncy to suddenly feeling tied down and heavy, emotions were on the loose!

The fourth day was as good as the previous ones. We both howled during the breastfeeding sessions; each one louder than the other! There was no pain, either the stitches or the cut, but a lot of heaviness. It felt like my bottom half had suddenly transformed into lead. I needed assistance to get up and down from the bed.

The whole day the baby slept and being alone, I would be worried. How can this girl sleep so soundlessly during the day when at night time she is a banshee? Isn't she hungry? I used to get scared that something has happened to her and would summon the nurses citing one reason or the other to check up on her.

As the clock struck 11 PM, she would start all over again, which is when I would wonder why she couldn't save the drama for during daytime when there was ample background noise to mask her screeches and everyone was wide awake and had the energy to deal with her!

Formula feeding was left to the nurses as they were used to feeding babies as small as she. They would always come by sleepy eyed and we would worry constantly if she was feeding correctly. My mother kept them awake by chatting about sundry details of their life.

I was supposed to be discharged on the sixth day. I was already getting bored staring the walls and being confined in such a small space. I wondered if they would let me go any sooner.

The next day, when my gyn came for the routine visit, I placed my humble request before her and she gave me a thumbs up. She said everything looked fine and I could be going home that evening. I was elated. I called up my mom and told her that I was ready to be home. She panicked as she was not expecting me until the next day. She was planning to cleaning our room, take out some old baby stuff and get the room baby friendly.

... will be continued

Saturday, 26 January 2013

The Awaited Childbirth

The 9th month took a toll on me. Not only did I have aches all over, I had an outbreak of pimples too. That seemed to convince everyone around me that I'd be having a baby boy. They say if you look beautiful and your skin is glowing then you have a baby girl. Well, not true!

I was done with the pregnancy thing and all I wanted was the extra weight off me. Hence, more than being scared for the C-section, I was looking forward to it. That said I was a wee bit disappointed too since I have had not a scar on me. Somewhere in me I didn't want the C-section to happen. 

I got admitted the night before. I demanded Kiran be with me for that and chose him over my mother. That was the night we would get to spend "only the two of us". God only knows when we'll be able to do that again. Anyway, my parents left me and my husband and promised to be there at 6 AM. (My operation was scheduled at 7 AM) 

The nurse took me away for a quick check of my blood pressure, weight and baby's heart beat. For the record, I weighed 68 kgs, and my blood pressure was normal. I asked her if the OT was ready for tomorrow and would I be able to take a look at it. She took me in with a firm warning not to touch anything as everything was sterilized. She gave me a nice little tour. "This is the operating table where you'll be tomorrow. These are the instruments which they are gonna use on you." I loved the display, just like a chef would, there was a variety of scissors and knifes and blades. Sorry for the lack of correct medical terms for them. And there was a shelf full of small vials which were medicines supposed to be used in case anything went wrong. I hoped they didn't have to use it during my procedure!

Before I turned in for the night, the nurse reminded me that I could not eat anything after 12 AM; not even water. 

Despite the calm environment, I almost did not sleep the whole night. It was the first time that I was ever sleeping in a hospital as a patient. The bed was also creaking. And the anxiety of being face to face with my baby was overwhelming.

On the D-day, the nurse came in to wake us up and got some hot water for my bath. The nurse started to get me ready for the OT. Again, my weight, BP and baby's heartbeat was checked. Everything was within the normal range. I was to wear the hospital gown, get an enema and head to the OT soon after. That was the plan. 

After the enema, I came to know that the anesthesiologist was not in yet. I was made to sit in my room. My parents came along with another family friends. It was past 7 AM by then. Everyone tried to make this small awkward talk, which made me want to throw up. Everyone was deliberately trying to take my mind off the impending operation thinking I was scared. If only they knew that I would be racing to the OT! I wanted them to keep mum but they continued. It was almost 8 AM when they decided to escort me in. It was in that moment that my mom remembered something numerological and told me to write 24 on my palm. She believes that it helps in the task getting done successfully. Don't ask me. 

The moment was unreal. All those 9 months flashed before me. That journey which in theory seemed long had suddenly shrunk. I was assisted to the operating table. One nurse velcro-ed my right arm and attached a pin on my index finger and informed me that would be monitoring my BP through out. The anesthesiologist came in, introduced herself and asked me if I was scared of needles. She inserted the IV in my left wrist. I was all wired up. 

Meanwhile, my gyn and her husband came in. While my gyn was getting in her scrubs, her husband started chatting with me. With the help of some nurses they made me sit up again and asked me to bend forward as much as I could manage. 

"Are you scared?", he asked.

"No. I just want this to get over."

"I thought so. Your face says it all."

I jerked suddenly as the nurse applied the cold spirit on my back. Sadly for that reaction of mine, the nurse had to bear the wrath of the doctor. "You should always let the patient know what you are doing to them. Do not ever catch them unawares." He turns to me and says "Our everyday routine. Don't mind!"

He saw the number 24 written on my left palm and asked me about it. He was amused that my mom believed in it!

I was to get 2 needles in my back. He told me that the needle was small and I shouldn't feel more than like an ant bite. Truly, it didn't feel much - the first one that is. The second one was a bit rough. 

The moment they pricked me, everything started to gain momentum. I could feel my legs going numb. I was covered from stomach down. The anesthesiologist inserted the urinary catherter. Another nurse held the oxygen mask above my mouth and told me to breath normally. The doctor patted my legs and asked me if I felt anything. By now, I was a little foggy. I was awake but not clear minded. I could hear the doctors making their conversation. My gyn told the pediatrician about the non-kicking incident.

I could see them passing the instrument and working on my bump. I hardly felt anything, hence I imagined their procedure. I was too scared to talk. I didn't want them cutting some other internal organ of mine due to distraction. 

Within minutes, I felt pressure in my stomach. I couldn't really feel anything, but I could feel a lot of moving and shaking. I saw the nurse take away my baby. She did not cry as soon as she was out.

I asked, "Is it done?"

"Yes it is, dear."


"So what did you want?"

"I wanted a girl and husband wanted a boy."

"Well, congratulations. You won." 

Just at that moment, we all heard her first cry ever. 

In a few minutes, a nurse brought my baby to me all wrapped up. She was chubby, pink and was fluttering her eyes at me. I kissed her and they took her to her dad. 

You should sleep now, said the anesthesiologist. "Do you think I can, after seeing my baby?"

"Oh, of course you will. Right after this shot." And I was given the sleep inducing shot. I was quickly drifting off to sleep. For the fear of embarrassment, I was trying to pull my hand free from the doctor who was now explaining the 24 number logic to everyone present in the OT. 

After that I have no recollection of how I was wheeled into my room or shifted on to the bed. I have a faint memory of my parents telling me that everything went well. When I came to again, Kiran was with me. My right foot was paining by being in the same position. I needed help in repositioning it. I did not trust my husband at that moment. I demanded him to call my mother, who had gone home to fix lunch. I was adamant to see her.

From that night, began my journey of true motherhood - sleepless nights, screaming infant, painful feeding time and lots and lots of frustration.

... will be continued.

Friday, 25 January 2013

Pregnancy - The Last Leg

Previously written Pregnancy - Finding out and Pregnancy - Middle Ground

After what seemed like ages, the day finally dawned when I had my near and dear ones beside me. The baby shower was fun with nearly a hundred people attending. I know, too many people for a baby shower, but that's how it is with my FIL. The very next day we were supposed to come to Pune. As much as I felt bad leaving my in-laws place, I was excited to be at my hometown after a year and half. Who isn't?

We were to see my final gyn the next day of arrival. The visit was as expected full of do's and don'ts. This time however, I had to undergo an internal examination. Everything went well, specially the part where she told me I could eat whatever I wished to and if anything went wrong she'd be there to straighten me out. Yes, she ok-ed my cravings for roadside chats and stall chinese.

I also had a USG, where the doctor said that the baby is already head down position which is a good sign. The baby had a boost in her growth and development and my EDD jumped up to 9th January 2012.

My next visit to the doc as well as the USG wasn't until December first week. I used this time to gorge upon wonderful Pune food and mom made stuff. I did not mind getting fat, which I wasn't. People would comment on how small my bump is considering that I was already in my 8th month. I could easily pass off as non-pregnant if I wore a fairly loose fitting tee.

This month, I had to undergo the Indirect Coombs Test when I mentioned about the conflicting Rh factors. Thankfully, the results were not scary.

The 9th month was a twister. There were so many sudden changes in me. All those easy earlier months were now a fantasy.

This trip to ultrasound said that my baby had two loops of umbilical cord around the neck. It also stated that the baby is in an oblique position. Thirdly, the baby's head was bigger than what they usually encounter, which could make natural birth difficult for me, given the small size of my pelvis. But my EDD has jumped again to 5th January 2012.

As soon as I saw my gyn knit her eyebrows, I knew she had some bad news. She did say that we had a whole month to go and sometimes babies tumble and free themselves of the cord. However, she still reminded me about the baby's head and my relatively small pelvis frame. Here she hinted at a possibility of C-section delivery, which I wasn't too happy to hear.

Henceforth, I was supposed to see her on weekly basis.

The next week's appointment was a disaster. My weight had not increased and I was shouted at. I have no clue how that happened, since I was merrily gulping away anything in sight, even at the dead of the night. The baby was still oblique, and I was sent off for another ultrasound. This time the results revealed that the loops were tighter around the baby's neck and I was constricted to bed rest for the remaining of my pregnant days. I was advised to get out of the bed only for bathroom visits, so strict was it! That was such a bad news for me since my best friend's wedding reception was round the corner and I could never have missed it for anything. Not when I was in the same town.

Babies kick harder and more  frequently soon after you've had something to eat. This particular night, mine was silent. Usually she'd wreck a havoc in there. I assumed she was sleeping. The next morning when I had my breakfast, again there were no kicks or motion. I still gave it some time.(Kiran was getting ready to go for his office picnic that day). When there was still no hearing from the baby after half an hour, I started to panic and called my gyn at 7 AM. She asked me to give it some time, eat some more and if I still don't feel the baby moving, I should see her. I realised that there were no baby kicks even when I was up for my midnight snack.

None of that seemed to work. Kiran cancelled his picnic plans and we raced to the hospital. He was panic stricken. Although my mother was trying to bring calm to both of us, I could see that she was distraught too.

As soon as we reached there, the doc checked for baby's heart beat. At first, all they got was my heart beats, and baby's were no where to be found. The doc ordered for another machine to be brought instantly. Still none.

Then she held my bump and gave it a firm shake. She started pushing from the four corners vigorously and I felt that familiar kick. I almost shouted "Doc, the baby kicked!" I had tears in my eyes when the kicking began all over again. I didn't mind the knock on my sides nor the thump in my ribs.

She said that the baby probably was having a long siesta and if  I were to experience that again, I should rush to her immediately.

Even though I was on complete bed rest, I had to suffer aches and pains every now and the. I had sciatic nerve ache in my left side, which would shoot down my left leg. And since the baby was oblique (head resting on my right side) I had nerve pain in my right leg too. Night times were difficult, as I was not supposed to sleep on my back and I couldn't sleep on my left or the right because of the nerve pinches.

It was tough to get through the day. How much can one lie down? Not to mention the scary night times. By now, the doctor had convinced me that I had 90% chances of getting a C-section delivery. I was told that if my water broke, or if I felt any contractions, I was to head to the hospital for an emergency C-section.

I was at the end of my 9th month, when I had a last ultrasound - colour doppler test, which determines the blood flow to the fetus. There was now one loop around the baby's neck and she was still oblique. Thanks to my bed rest, she had not descended into the pelvic cavity. My EDD jumped yet again to 2nd January 2012.

This gyn visit confirmed the C section and she asked me to give her a date anytime after the 28th December, because I'd have then completed 9 months. I wanted my baby born in the new year and hence I said 1st January would be it. Since 1st fell on a Sunday, she said I might be operated post noon. Staying empty stomach till noon is not my cup of tea, and hence I shifted the date to the 2nd, early morning.

*P.S. I was able to attend my best friend's reception. I got an ok from the gyn to scurry away for a few hours.
... to be continued

Thursday, 24 January 2013

Pregnancy - The Middle ground

Previously written Pregnancy - Finding out

After having gone through the mad hormonal days, I expected normal days where I wouldn't be so fragile - emotionally as well as physically. What I did not see coming was a huge blow by the jet lag. When I'd previously flown from India to US, I'd gotten used to the time change within 2-3 days. However, this time around, we used to be wide awake at night and sleep through the day. Kiran was supposed to resume his office here in 7 days, which meant he did not necessarily have to battle out the lag. We would scurry into the kitchen and find something for us to eat at 2 AM. However discreet we were, my mother in law was always up. She was kind enough to fix us something to eat at that hour. The rest of the night would be spent watching NatGeo channel. We would drift off to sleep at 7 AM, wake up briefly for lunch, gulp down everything sleepily and then hit the sack again.

I had a very bad time with my jet lag which lasted a whole month long.

We scheduled an appointment with a gyn there who suggested that I get an USG done as I had flown quite a distance. This time at the ultrasound, we saw our baby. A miniature human figure, moving its hands, legs and tiny head. This week we were to have the Nuchal Test to test for any abnormalities. The doc who was performing the USG was quiet for some time. Then he began clicking his tongue, then he said something to his helper in Kannada which I obviously did not understand. I began to worry if anything was wrong with the baby. Even after asking him 2-3 times he did not say anything.

Finally when I pressed him, he said, he is waiting for the baby to change position so that he could get a good view of her nape! I breathed a sigh of relief when I understood the cause for his worry lines.

My second trimester was a happy place. My wonderful in-laws were taking good care of me. I got to enjoy the feasts and festivals of our native place which I had always missed due to one reason or the other. The baby and my weight was growing as was necessary. I also got a chance to live with my aunt (who is close by) for a few days.

On the down side, I was missing Kiran a lot. To add to it, our timing to call each other was always wrong. Either that or we didn't have enough privacy for a nice cozy chat. We had a few mis-communication problems, of which arose some misunderstandings and fights. Those were some trying days. *It is not a good idea to stay apart during pregnancy.*

In a few days, my in laws started discussing about having my baby shower. I was least interested in the beginning. But when I heard that Kiran could come earlier than expected and be there for my function, I was on cloud nine.

... will be continued tomorrow

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

Pregnancy - The finding out


Like Namratha says, this is not for the faint hearted. Or even those who are not yet ready to be mothers - especially mentally.

This post doesn't mean to scare anyone off pregnancy or child birth. I just hope this helps and provides directions to those who might feel a bit overwhelmed or lost in the whole process. 

In no way is this post, and the series of them following soon after, are meant to serve as prescription for your pregnancy related symptoms/ problems. I might include some techniques or solutions that worked for me. It doesn't mean they will help you. 

Each and every thing that I have mentioned here is what I went through. It may not be up to the pregnancy-industry standard, but this exactly what happened to me.

I have mentioned bits and pieces of my pregnancy every now and then in this blog. So you may find somethings repetitive. 


The point where a pregnancy begins is a euphoric one. It was for me when I could so much as gather my thoughts and let the feeling sink in that I am now going to be a mother.

When two blue lines confirmed my pregnancy, that was all I had to remind myself that I was not one now. I had no other symptoms other than a missed period. I wasn't feeling nauseated, I wasn't puking at the sight of food, nor did I see any significant change in my weight. These are the basic things you hear of a pregnant woman. I was elated at how easy my pregnancy would turn out to be with no signs.

I must say at this point that I had a lot of misconceptions and myths about pregnancy and a pregnant All of which were busted.

As soon as I got the positive test result, we decided to go for a gynecologist visit, which is scheduled when one is 9 weeks pregnant. Accordingly, an appointment was scheduled that included an ultrasound too.

After we filled a form that seemed endlessly listing histories of any genetic disease or mutations and allergies and sundry, I was sent for the USG. I had googled up on the images of a 9 weeks old fetus. I was expecting to see a small form of a human body. The USG technician squinted at the screen and said, "You are no more than 6 weeks pregnant. There is nothing to see. Your baby is smaller than a grain of rice" I was shocked, for according to my calculations, I should have been 9 weeks already.

When we saw the doctor, and she heard my case, she said it might be due to delayed ovulation, which is pretty common and nothing to be worried about. Hence, my Estimated Due Date (EDD) which was initially January 5th, 2012, was pushed to January 17th, 2012.

Then after that we again discussed if we had any health issues or any other concerns. I did have some. My blood group is Rh negative and Kiran's is Rh positive. Now, I was told earlier by my sis-in-law that a positive-negative combination could be something that needs to be looked into. It was indeed the case. The doctor said that in some cases, the mother's blood can mix with that of the fetus', and having two different Rh factors could cause a problem. I was advised to call the doctor immediately if I bled anytime during the pregnancy. Having that in mind, every time that I would go to the bathroom, I had chills.

The gynec then inquired if I had any morning sickness. When I answered in negative, she congratulated me saying I may be one of the few ones who sail through the 9 months. We came out of the doctors office with smiling faces.

Soon after that, we were to attend a send off party for one of our close friends who were leaving for India. It was a potluck dinner and we had offered to bring in some chicken curry. That day, since morning, I'd been feeling queasy. Thus, Kiran took the responsibility of preparing the dish. It was around 6 PM when he was done with the cooking. He asked me how it smelt. And I said "It is yuck!" Literally. Kiran felt offended and I was not sure why because I was telling the absolute truth.

By now, I was also feeling a bit feverish. And I wanted that offensive stench out of my house. I could sense something had gone wrong in me. I wanted Kiran to skip the dinner and stay with me. However, the dinner couldn't be missed as they were one of our close friends.

When he stepped out, I started feeling anxious for no reason. I am pretty used to being home alone. This time, however, I was ill at ease. Not knowing how to deal with this funny feeling, I called up my mother who was in Singapore at that time to be with N, my sister in law, who was expecting her second child. The moment I heard her voice, my tears started to flow. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not cry, I found myself blubbering on the phone saying "Something is happening to me. I don't know what and no one is here with me." Hearing me collapse in such a way, my mother got emotional for not being here with me. N took over and told me in firm voice that all this is bound to happen and that I have to get myself together, walk over to the fridge and pour myself some cold orange juice. She heard me out, empathized and scolded a bit. That seemed to bring back some courage in me. Only, I hardly knew that was just a mark of a beginning of a whole new innings of suffering.

From that day on, I started feeling tired. From the moment I woke up to the time I went to bed, I was tired. It began with that consistent pain in the whole body that you experience when you have flu. As the days progressed, that exhaustion just grew and grew and grew to the extent that I couldn't get out of my bed. I lay in my bed the whole day, not eating, not showering, because I had no strength nor the courage to pull myself up on my feet for any activity. I could barely even gather enough energy to speak to my mom. I lied about the net and our phone lines being down, just to avoid confrontation with her. I did not want to worry her further.

 The days I did find my feet walking toward the kitchen to fix some lunch, they retracted at the myriad combination of smells around the house. My nose could sense every damn smell all the same time - the incense stick, the deo, the curry, the garbage!

I was surviving on a cup of milk, almonds and banana. I couldn't tolerate anything else.

Every evening, correctly at 5 PM, I would start to feel uncomfortable in my stomach. That feeling would last throughout the evening. Each day Kiran came home to a pitiful me. Seeing him, I would burst into tears. I used to feel relieved that at least he was there for me. Call it my lack of senses to be thankful to him for all his help; all my tantrums were thrown at him. He had no clue either on how to manage me. He would cook for me. He took care of me like a mother would. But none of those efforts seemed enough to put my miseries away.

The discomfort kept getting worse till the point that I would have a strong urge to throw up. I would retch and retch but since I'd had nothing to eat throughout the day, I couldn't even puke! Again, my husband would be there with me, every step of the way - patting me in the back, soothing me, getting cold water for me to feel better.

It is said that for some women these symptoms last for all the nine months. It was already a month and a half of suffering with no signs of mellowing down. It was getting more and more difficult for us to cope with my hormonal changes. Moreover, there were few other reasons why we couldn't stay here. Initially we'd decided to go back home in August. However, given the current state of my health, we had to reschedule our journey to July.

I was terrified at the idea of having to live without Kiran for six months. I was looking forward to a pregnancy which would be equally participated by my husband. I wanted him to be there with me to USG and see our baby take shape. He promised me that he would definitely be by my side when I was nearing my due date.

Our tickets were booked within a few days. By now, I had started to feel better. All those overwhelming waves of nausea and tiredness started to wear off as the days went by. I was completely alright by the time we boarded our flight to India.

... will be continued tomorrow.

Tuesday, 22 January 2013

We, the non-sharers

Disclaimer : A post meant for women, but you may read too

How many of us like to share? I don't mean a meal, or clothes and shoes. I certainly do not mean FB sharing. How many of us share our stories? By stories I mean those ones which we may not necessarily be proud of. It may be a small incident, like being shouted at by a superior at the office, or it could be a life-shattering one, like being a victim of sexual harassment and all those remaining ones that lie in between. We believe in zipping our mouths and going about our daily lives as if nothing ever has gone awry. 

The problem with non-sharing is that we never realize if we have been right or wrong. We assume and accept that the fault lies within us; while showing the world that we are perfect, strong women with no dents whatsoever. Why do we consider opening up as a shameful act? Why does it feel so negative? 

To take off the ambiguity of this post, let me say that I went through a lot of revelations during and after my pregnancy. They changed a little bit in me for good; for now I believe that speaking up and sharing not only eases your mind but also helps another person who is in dire need for directions. 

The whole mother hood thing is a lot more than it looks. It causes permanent changes in the physical and emotional you. To cope with those changes, a woman needs a lot more comforting and boosts of confidence. 

I had some tough times while going through all this. And I believed in shutting up too. I did not want to look like a loser mom when everyone else was battling it out so fiercely. And then came along a blog post from a fellow mommy that seemed to open up the Pandora's box of mommy emotions. And that is how the emails and chats of mommydom all began with my friends. 

Over the course of next few days, I have decided to share my story of pregnancy and child birth. Stick to me if you are interested. 


And so I begin my first mini-a-thon of the year. This one is a theme based one "Pregnancy & Child birth".

Friday, 18 January 2013

My Circle of Mommy Friends

Being a mommy to a kid is perhaps not as difficult as holding up your image as one to the world. There is so much pressure and breaking down is seriously not an option. Even though women have been there and done that, when it comes to being a third person and watching others take up the mothering duty, they get a lot judgmental... a lot more critical and always have something wrong to pick with the way you do something (to/with/for the kid).

As this is the case, we, the newly blessed mothers, have no one but our friends who are sailing in the same boat to pour our hearts to. Earlier I was skeptical and uncomfortable sharing my mommy-woe stories. But as and how my friends decided to come out of the closet and open their minds and share stories, I knew I was not the only one. And to say that it is therapeutic is the least. 

It first began with timid and shy questions and when we realised that all of us are battling similar situations, we decided to stick with our routine. I have friends with whom I exchange emails, have night chats (during the night feeds for them or me), write blogs, call up and skype with. We talk, bitch, rant, laugh at our miseries, exchange information etc. The best part is no one gets judged. You can complain all you want to, and nothing changes. Nothing is right or wrong. It's just you and your mommy woes. 

We may not really be complaining. We love our babies. We really do. Trust us. But there comes a time when we get tired of one way communication; we want to talk about other things than sterilizing bottles and changing diapers, we crave for some adult conversation that does not necessarily involve or revolve around our kids. It's not about getting fed up of our kid, or that we hate our full time mommydom, it's just a need for a breather. It refreshes and rejuvenates in so many ways that we look forward to going back to being a mommy to our kids. 

Sacrifice? Yes, that is the word. But for some reason when you are past your kids childhood, everything that the younger mommies do is viewed wrong and "not sacrificial enough". It is crass to even think of enjoying at a cinema, let alone actually going there. If you feel like pursuing your hobby, you are likely to be asked "Oh and where is your poor kid gonna be?". If you think it is too warm for a sweater today, you will be berated for not thinking of your kid's well being. No matter what you do it will never be a good match for what they did. Well, a modest reminder that we sacrifice too. Maybe not the same things or in the same manner, but we let go of many things that we liked to do. 

All in all, I love my circle of mommies who are all into it. We love being what we are and we also like to complain about myriad stages of mommydom. But in the end, we hope to turn out good mommies to kids. Face it, for our kids to have sane mommies, we have to let out some steam. 

Thursday, 17 January 2013

Taste Of Peru

I am a big fan of shows where there are road trips, food and guys involved. Particularly that show where there is this Guy involved. If you do not know already, Diners, Drive-Ins' and Dives is a very popular show on the Food Network where Guy Fieri takes a road trip all through the 50 states of America in search for some authentic, mouth watering, lip smacking food; much like our Highway On My Plate

Every time this show is aired, I am praying for Chicago to be in his list. My prayers were answered the day I saw

We decided to check that place out as soon as possible. Hence, we seized the opportunity when V had come over.

Taste of Peru is a quaint little cozy place. One may not easily notice this place when in the neighbourhood. It is nothing fancy or glittery. I loved that the whole set up makes you feel instantly warm and at home. It is a small place but with lots of picture collection of Peru and the owner's family and friends. You know at once that the owner prides in his roots and family. That is what appealed to me the most.

The food was incredible and nothing that I have tasted so far.

We wanted to taste exactly what Guy had had and so we ordered the "Guy Fieri's Combo". That included


Anticuchos de Carne O Pollo

Lomo Saltado

The combo also included a drink called Inka Kola, which was a canned drink much like our pineapple sherbat. And so was included a desert, Arroz Con Leche. Sorry for no snaps, but we were too shot after that heavy dinner and my kid has started to fuss a bit. Nevertheless, the desert complemented our dinner. It wasn't too sweet or too overpowering to ruin our taste buds.

Sudado de Camerones
I ordered this one, which was not a part of the combo. It was tangy shrimp curry served with rice. 

You can see the Inka Kola poured in my glass there, right?

Here is a snap of a wall full of photos that I absolutely loved and the owner standing right in the middle.  There is also a map of Peru. :)

You can see a lot of nick-knacks in this snap. Another element that I am a fan of.

Another thing that I should mention here, is that the owner is very interactive. He welcomed us in, shook hands, chatted for good 5 minutes. I mean how many owners get to do that with their customers? He even called Aarnavi "Khoobsurat". Can you imagine how much this person is involved into his business and making everyone feel great? Neither did he let us go without a word. He wished each one of us a Happy New Year. Why wouldn't I wanna go there again?

It is a BYOB establishment. (BYOB = Bring Your Own Booze) If you are looking for a nice, romantic, quiet experience, seek elsewhere because here you'll find families and friends having a nice time, being loud, boisterous and cheeky. It's a lively place where you'll enjoy the experience.

... and here is my happy little one on being called "Khoobsurat"!

Monday, 7 January 2013

First Post of the Year

Happy New Year to all! May this year bring peace, love and warmth of family and friends to us!

I have a good news right at the beginning of the year. My baby turned a year old! :D Isn't that fabulous? We had a nice little birthday party for her... complete with family and very close to heart friends. It was fun and heartening to have good people come and join us in this happy occasion. :) 

Although I have wished I could and would update my blog frequently, I have not done so. I am very bad at keeping promises made to self. I hardly feel bad about dishonouring myself. I know I sound like a stuck record, harping on forever about how I do not do anything about not being regular here. Hence, I found myself some solution. Instead of doing a whole month long blog marathon, I will do many mini-a-thons. That means, I will commit to write a certain number of posts for a certain number of days and stick to it. Does it sound like a plan?

I may start as early as this month! :) How happy am I making this announcement! :)

Look out! This page is soon gonna be updated!


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