Baby Story part2

The hospitalization continued for a few more days to ascertain that we were going to be fine and then was packed off by the doc, with meds(progesterone supplements, etc etc) and was told to take it easy for a few days….the first question I asked her then was when can I resume work…nd she said I would have to take it easy till she did the USG around 4 -5 weeks and she would then advise…So was advised loads of rest, drinking gallons of water (this was to take care of the hyperstimulation) and very little activity…Was a little crappy and nervous, plus was missing my parents badly (they weren’t expected back from the US for almost 5 months)…then my maasi (bless her) promptly packed her bags and came over to stay with us and took charge of hormonal me, harrowed hubby and home….the blood tests to monitor HCG levels continued every 3-4 days…till we did the USG….doc confirmed that all was well…it was a single pregnancy (ya..they actually use the word single, since there are huge chances of multiples…inspite of having extremely high HCG levels, which as per my own research were a sign of multiple pregnancy)…and that I could go back to work…and generally chill. So all was well….Maasi, on ensuring we would do fine, returned to her home and I got back to work and reading up on what to expect while expecting and more.

Less than 4-5 days of this bliss and one night, I woke up from sleep feeling uncomfortable, a min and I realized the sheets were wet…first thought was had I lost control of my bladder…didn’t know what was happening....a surge of fear engulfed the mind…..shook hubby awake…and asked him to switch the lights and my worst fears were confirmed….the sheets were stained…yes I was bleeding….emergency calls happened to the doc, who advised taking an injection and lying down with feet raised and not moving. Nurse was found in the middle of the night, injection hunted down, nerves were being calmed and a cluttered mind was being asked to rest. Few excruciatingly painful hours later, with no respite, doc asked me to immediately come to the hospital. I was extremely tensed, but put on a brave front and trudged to the hospital. One look at the doc and my composed self crashed and the tears just wouldn’t stop….Some gentle words later, doc did a USG and was shocked to find that I had conceived triplets and one of them was naturally disintegrating and hence the bleeding. I was immediately hospitalized and put on observation. All that I was feeling that time was a huge sense of gratitude that atleast I wasn’t going home empty-handed. And not to mention that my amateur research on HCG levels was not totally off-the-mark.

So another week of hospitalisation, ceasation of bleeding and a USG to confirm 2 healthy heartbeats later, I was home on complete bed rest. Parents flew back leaving my darling neice in the trusting hands of her daycare aunty (something for which I will never forgive myself...that bcoz of me, my neice didnt enjoy some more time with her daada - daadi), injections, medicines, routinue check-ups continued and the feeling of being preganant set in. Initial euphoria gave in to huge mood swings, anxiety, basically making life miserable for all around me...Some coped with it, some didnt. And so the next couple of months were spent with me lying sprawled on the bed staring at the ceiling, looking at the sky from my bedroom window and counting the planes that flew by..At one point I could even guess the airline from the miniscule logo that I could manage to strain my eyes and see...In hindsight it seems hilarious, but those days I would literally count the hours. I mean, ofcourse I was truly happy and all that but to lie confined to a bed day in and day out while the rest of the world would go about their business used to get lonely sometimes...how many books can u read after a point...

Oh yes, most times I would tell myself to enjoy this, coz once my little ones would be out, I would have no time to put my feet up, but to be true to my heart, there used to be those moments of self-doubt when i used to feel if i cud pull it off. To top it, for someone who had wheels on her feet, it was quite difficult getting used to it. Moreover all the images that i had built in my mind of pregnancy..food cravings, cute maternity wear, the pamperings (esp by the spouse)...had just remained that....images and my reality was slightly different...But then no pain no gain...and here I was set for a windfall, in the form of two angels. So it couldnt have been all bad.

There was one thing I was petrified of though and that was labour pains.Just the thought used to freak me out..My doc had told me that I will probably have a early delivery by a couple of weeks and there is a good chance that we go in for a c-sec, since typically for IVF twin pregnancies, they dont want any complications (being difficult and precious pregnancy and all that....ofcourse all babies are precious but thats another story). And to tell you the truth, I was pretty cool about the C-sec, much contrary to what most expectant mothers feel about the dreaded c-sec. I remember talking to a like -mined friend (who was also expecting IVF twins at the same time as me) and telling her that we have nothing to worry on the pain front, coz we would never have to go through hours and hours of labour pains... I guess I forgot never say never...Little did I know what was in store for me and my little ones.

Rock-a-my-baby!

If there is anyone who can truly put things in the right perspective for me, it has to be my lilP. Now, I have never claimed to be gifted with an exceptional voice, but then since the moral police hasnt yet put the clamps on bathroom singing, I am encouraged to give in to the whims of my vocal chords once in a while. Now of all the people, I do expect my daughter to appreciate that, considering all the lullabys, hymns, rhymes that i have belted out for her ....on-demand anytime day or night.

Just the other day, I was trying to coarce lilP to take a nap, obviously the hidden agenda being, I could put my feet up and relax too. But mademoiselle had better plans..so a series of dry runs over the obstacle course (my battered body and a couple of cushions served the purpose) and umpteen attempts at prying my eyes open with her chubby fingers later, I decided to take the tried and tested route of singing her favourite lullabys to put her to sleep...Cuddled her close to me and started humming, saw her slowly relaxing, eyes drooping and was mentally pleased with myself.

Well the joy was shortlived, coz a minute later, lilP opened her eyes wide, looked straight into my eyes and put her fingers in her ears. Shocked out of my wits on comprehending what she was suggesting, I abruptly stopped singing....the little mite sniggered and promptly removed her fingers out of her ears...and blissfully fell asleep. Now...Now...Children truly are a reality check:-)

A baby story- part1

Have been meaning to put this down…even before I considered blogging…Not for posterity or reliving it but because someday I want to share it with my lil one and don’t want age playing tricks on the mind then. Will do it in 2 parts…coz its really really long…..

For a long long time, I felt I wasn’t prepared to be a mother and then when I thought I was ready, destiny wasn’t. As they say man proposes…god disposes…Then started the relentless trips to doc, tests, blah blah…only to be told there was nothing wrong (if you discount having PCOD, since these days the whole world and their neighbors seem to have this)…well then what was…Anyway a couple of IUIs later, was recommended to a very good fertility specialist, who completely won me over with her honest feedback, cheerful disposition and warmth. So we decided to go the IVF way. By then, I had mentally decided that this was going to be my last medical effort…and if god was willing, I would be blessed, else life I guess would go on….

Started on the IVF cycle in August 2006, only to abort it midway due to high sugar levels which would reduce chances, so doc changed course, decided to get sugar levels under control and then restart the IVF cycle. Early December, we began the routine suppression cycle again, followed by stimulating meds and injections, scans etc…everything under control, egg retrieval was scheduled for Jan 6, 2006, which went off well, my lilP was conceptualized that very day….2 days later Jan 8, 2006, we had the embryo transfer done and since we had two good embryos, doc decided to do a second transfer the day after as well to increase our chances. Then began the excruciating wait, hoping, praying for our own miracle..Every little symptom of pregnancy on the internet was searched, read, reviewed…signing off with consolation that it was too early. Meanwhile all the ovarian hyper-stimulation was beginning to show its after effects, with a bloating belly (due to water retention apparently). I was in constant touch with doc who kept assuring me it was ok, but nonetheless telling me to call her if I felt differently.

On Jan 18, middle of a busy workday…I began to feel just that…called the doc, who asked me to see her at once…She had one look at me and asked me to get hospitalized…my face turned pale and instinctively she turned around and said that this was due to hyper-stimulation and that this was only so I would be monitored more carefully, especially since I stayed pretty far(almost 25kms) from the hospital and couldn’t rush there everynow and then. Wasn’t scheduled for the blood work to test HCG levels till Jan 23rd or so and was highly nervous with these turn of events. All that I could do was pray and pray and pray some more. The next day, Jan 19, doc decided there was no harm in testing for HCG, gave the blood sample and waited…tensed, cranky….hubby was out on work and I was sitting in my hospital bed…fidgeting with the TV remote and pushing away the tasteless food, all the while looking at the time and wishing for it to show 2pm (it was around that time, that normally all the bloodwork reports came in), the assistant doc came into my room….asked me how I was feeling…I guessed she had come for her routine check and just shrugged my shoulders …looking at her wistfully…She came close to me, held my hand and said that the results were out. i looked into her eyes questioningly and she said the HCG levels are good….which means u r pregnant….

For what seemed liked ages I am sure…I just didn’t react. So she repeated, as if not sure if I had heard it right. And then something in me gave away…and I just hugged her tight and cried my heart out……yes…somewhr at the back of my mind…I was preparing myself to be disappointed and this news was just so perfect…that I couldn’t hold back the storm…………Then ofcourse…hubby was called (who was more relieved than delighted, I think), parents were woken up (they were visiting my bro in US, so was way past midnight thr)…S-i-l was called, a close friend was spoken to and the joy was shared enthusiastically.

my lil wordsmith !!

Yes its official....LilP has taken after her momsy...and has just discovered the use of her vocal chords and every waking moment is spent excercising them like there is no tomorrow....When she is not bawling her lungs out for something that she absolutely must have, she is seen talking nineteen to the dozen in a language, most of which none of us follow, but all of us nod away to...lets call it lilPspeak...so whether it is reading her book aloud, or imitating momsy chatting on her mobile...we hear the sweet (and sometimes shrill too) strains of lilPspeak through the day....

In a bid to discourage her loud screams...I tried telling her that if she screams too loudly...then her throat will ache (a.k.a "bu" by lilP)...so everytime she yells, I very patiently ask her...if you shout, where will it ache...and she promptly...touches her throat and says "bu"....and quitens...But just the other day I had to eat my own words.....I was telling her off ina slightly high pitched tone..(Ok...might have been more than slight...but whatever)...and her highness....comes to me and looks straight in my eye, touches my throat and says "mumma bu ne"...Needless to add...it sealed my lips...for a long long time:-)

Heres leaving you with few gems from lilPs mouth!

• Mum-ee : favorite word. favorite person. Meeee!- baba : grandap
• Aa-ee : grandmom
• Puppaa : dad- Doji : dog
• deeeee : give- dada : cousin bro or any random boy
• didi : any random girl- kahka : anybody apart from the two constant men in her life
• Aaajji : grandmoms sister
• Pa-ee : for water
• haaaahh : for too cold/too hot
• Stahh Bite…Stahh Bite : Star bright..Star Light
• Geerouff : Giraffe
• Bay-bee : for Baby- Peeg : for Pig- bowl : for ball
• haathi : for elephant
• pain : pen
• plen : for airoplane
• baeee : for bye
• dudu : most fav milk
• Chi Chi : any dirt, poop and more
• Cum : as in “Come here”
• Bu : any scar, ache or pain
• mum mum : food
• Kaa : car
• Kao : Cow
• Ko : Crow or any bird
• Tee : means tree- gaee or nini : sleeping
• qack qack : quack quack for duck
• Eeya eeya : for the song "old mac donald had a farm....."

Predictably Unpredictable !

Ever since I managed to get lilP's paediatrician to resignedly give his nod for starting her on the bottle, I have been mentally fast forwarding to the hard times that are going to be instore for me to persuade her to wean her off it...

Since lilP was a preemie and severely underweight, the most important thing for me was to see that she fed properly, even if it was through the bottle..notwithstanding the absolute paranoia with which I would indulge in the laborious bottle sterilisation sessions, I used to get orgasmic joy at seeing her guzzle down a bottle of milk.:-) And so even though well-meaning docs, friends advised me to stop the bottle sooner than later, I steadfastly stood my ground and decided to turn a deaf ear to their pearls of wisdom....when even after the 18 months mark, she was still using the bottle, her doc gave me a dressing down, ordering me to stop giving her the bottle. The logic being since lilP was eating her solids well, if she wanted her quota of milk...she would use a sipper or glass. Not that I hadnt attempted to encourage her to drink her milk through a sipper/glass, etc but invariably she just managed to take in a sip or two and then would never be interested to drink the rest....not that she would miss it either, she would just carry on doing whatever she wanted...as if the milk drinking session never happened. And so I resisted...since I didnt want to deprive her of something she loved...milk that is.

19th month still had her enjoying her bottle of dudu...and so push coming to shove...I decided to take the plunge in the weaning process. I knew I would need to have nerves of steel to not give in to her tears for a meagre bottle...but had heard enough about how one just needs to be firm and that eventually they accept the change.Having bookmarked all the resourceful sites on the said subject, reading up on every chit of paper (read article) on the same, I felt I was truly armed to begin this much dreaded process with lilP....

Cut to Day 1 of task....dudutime and momsy very conscious about enthusing her voice with positive excitement brings out the glass of milk...lilP takes one look at it and goes away disinterested....repeated efforts at getting her to touch her lips around the glass bear no fruit...shoulders begin to sag...and then an Einstein moment happens...a straw is whipped out of thin air....lilP takes one look at it and like a tail wagging puppy immediately makes a bee for it...momsy does a small demo for her and viola...lilP takes to it as fish to water and before I could say WOW...has the milk down her throat....What an anti-climax !

Ofcourse...after that moment, never once did she ever ask for the bottle...it was as if it never existed...so much for transition theory and all my preparation. thats lilP for you...stumping you with her unpredictable behaviour!

An ode to 21!

My darling lilP turns 21 months today...soon we will outgrow the monthly milestones and make rapid strides into years...But we shall think of that later. Now is the time to revel in the moment.... So here's my wish for you sweetheart....."may you always remain healthy and happy.".......Also a snapshot of 21 things which are so "you"......

• The forcefulness in the way you say "de...." to anything you want.


• The tight pursing of your lips as you try to restrain a smile, while your eyes give it away.


• The complete adoration with which you look at yourself in the mirror....(sigh!...how i wish you looked at me like that)


• The fearless manner in which you try to feed the cat...while yours truly gapes in horror..(apologies to menaka gandhi....but we are like this only)


• Crispy banana wafers are devoured promptly, while grated apple is thrown out because you are too lazy to chew anything healthy...(who wants to be size zero after all!!)


• The cute way in which you blush...(reminds one of hindi film heroines of the black n white era), only to look furtively whether the subject you are trying to woo is still looking at you.


• The way you walk..."chhati tan ke"...


• The way you turndown your lower lip...and go and stand in a corner with your back towards us....took us a while to figure out that you were actually sulking:-)


• How you hate to be excluded out of any conversation....nd would do anything...from making noises...to pulling clothes...to if all else fails....sit on the persons lap and pull their face to make them look at you.


• The endearing manner in which you sing "tick....tock...tick tock" with both your hands moving...when asked where is the clock


• The compassion in your eyes, when you find me sad or with tears in my eyes....and the way you look at me silently from afar...before you come to me and tenderly say"Mumma..a"


• You love to mop the floor with any clean piece of cloth (and no dispute on that) and scrub it with every ounce of energy in your body.


• you love to doodle with pens called "pain" on any scrap of paper


• You stake ownership to your aai's (granmom) lap...forget other kids....not even your mama (maternal uncle) is allowed to so much as come within touching distance to her.


• You have made a slave out of your baba (granddad)...who excitedly runs to even clean you up after a potty session, just because you call out to him once you are done...


• The way you pompously smile when I say "Comeone everyone clap your hands for LilP" to encourage you on something well done and you look around to see if everyone is actually clapping.


• your insisitence on "dog" being pronounced as "Doji" and the firm nod of your head which accompanies it ...as if to say...comeone mumma...say it right.


• You wiggle into non-existent space between two people and slowly and steadily push them to make room for your ample butt:-)


• Not getting your way puts you in tantrum mode....first you kneel on the floor...with head touching the ground..(as if praying)...and get your act together....then start banging your head with your palms (a la...professional mourners)...all this while we struggle to keep a straight face and ignore you.


• You keep yourself abreast of the latest happenings in the world by reading newspapers...in exactly the same manner in which the others in the household do....imitating them to the last bit...in holding the paper in the correct manner to turning the pages...to moving your eyes across...its quite a sight.


• your killer moves on the dance floor are legendary in our house.....strains of music and you are up and about...moving to the beat!!

I could go on and on....but you are truly one-of-a-kind....and just a dimpled smile is all we require to be willing slaves to your highness "lilP"

Space

...in Relationships is very important....something I have heard advocated ever so often.
But what if SPACE for someone is DISTANCE for another?