In my ten days of motherhood, I have learnt:
1. A normal delivery is just a delivery with fewer complications but no less sweat.
2. Pain gets redefined once you go into labour.
3. The real work starts when the baby arrives.
4. Rest when you can because the rest can wait.
5. If you initially feel no love for the little being, it is alright. You are human and you need time to adjust to the big change.
6. The bonding will happen. It always does!
7. In the end you are on your own, so stop feeling sorry for yourself. But if you cannot, go ahead and cry, and then tighten your belt, and get some work done.
8. There is always a first time, so never shy from asking for help.
9. A lot of people will claim to be ready and to be in the process of doing a lot for you but when the time comes, it all goes poof!
10. Free advice should always be treated as free and readily dispensed with.
11. Some people get more credit than they deserve, and often, those who do the dirty work do not.
12. No one can be frailer and in need of more attention and love than women who have delivered a baby.
13. Expectations are a two-way street.
14. Time flies, so know what to do with it.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Sweet indulgences!
I have been shopping like there is no tomorrow – jewellery, sarees, suits, home stuff, utensils, baby clothes, gifts, make up. And, I am yet not quenched. I have always bought the essentials on my India trips, stocked up on what was not available; but with SG taking care of masalas, and other basic stuff needed in an Indian household, I am free to direct my energy and attention elsewhere. And what a ball it has been! Tough on the purse but energising for me and my frayed spirits!
I have not been able to venture far but been happy shopping in the little shops that dot the bazaar near my home. There is no fun like sitting in a shop, watching fabric after fabric falling in a heap in front of you. The variety available is a treat. Brocade and chanderi prints are the rage here, and just feasting on the blazing and antique finish colourful fabrics is enough to bring a smile on a woman’s face. Add to this, shopping for chikan suits and kurtis. There is something about this form of embroidery, full of nazaakat, that you can never have enough of it. The heavier and the brighter, the better!
I have walked down narrow lanes into dirt-wracked pooja bhandaars selling deepams and all stuff brass and its copy. It is not like walking into a fancy home store but the treasure hunt and prices are worth it. I visited a street market, going berserk buying spools of fancy lace at ludicrously cheap prices. They are bit shiny and gaudy, but then doesn't every thing find its place some day. Another great buy on this day out was a traditional wooden bangle stand. It has four horizontal wooden rods, with dome-shaped edges painted golden, balanced on roughly cut vertical, wooden blocks. It is not an excellent piece of artisanship but its crudity is what makes it pretty.
When I could and had the appetite, I jostled with crowds, with my pattal stretched, waiting for my turn for yummy golguppas. There is nothing like biting into a jalebi or samosa fresh out of the wok on a cold day.
Sadly, much of this has slowed down as the countdown to the d-day has officially begun. I am excited but slowly losing enthusiasm. The big day is no more months away and can no longer be postponed to the future. Bodily signs in preparation of the big day are slowly and silently making their appearance. It gets uncomfortable, not to mention the frequent mood swings, but the thought of all that I have bought and would buy in the future keeps me warm and happy. I may appear funny that way but that is how I am.
I have not been able to venture far but been happy shopping in the little shops that dot the bazaar near my home. There is no fun like sitting in a shop, watching fabric after fabric falling in a heap in front of you. The variety available is a treat. Brocade and chanderi prints are the rage here, and just feasting on the blazing and antique finish colourful fabrics is enough to bring a smile on a woman’s face. Add to this, shopping for chikan suits and kurtis. There is something about this form of embroidery, full of nazaakat, that you can never have enough of it. The heavier and the brighter, the better!
I have walked down narrow lanes into dirt-wracked pooja bhandaars selling deepams and all stuff brass and its copy. It is not like walking into a fancy home store but the treasure hunt and prices are worth it. I visited a street market, going berserk buying spools of fancy lace at ludicrously cheap prices. They are bit shiny and gaudy, but then doesn't every thing find its place some day. Another great buy on this day out was a traditional wooden bangle stand. It has four horizontal wooden rods, with dome-shaped edges painted golden, balanced on roughly cut vertical, wooden blocks. It is not an excellent piece of artisanship but its crudity is what makes it pretty.
When I could and had the appetite, I jostled with crowds, with my pattal stretched, waiting for my turn for yummy golguppas. There is nothing like biting into a jalebi or samosa fresh out of the wok on a cold day.
Sadly, much of this has slowed down as the countdown to the d-day has officially begun. I am excited but slowly losing enthusiasm. The big day is no more months away and can no longer be postponed to the future. Bodily signs in preparation of the big day are slowly and silently making their appearance. It gets uncomfortable, not to mention the frequent mood swings, but the thought of all that I have bought and would buy in the future keeps me warm and happy. I may appear funny that way but that is how I am.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Self gloating
Pregnancy has done wonders to my self image. I have never revelled in the sight of my cleavage, a bit of flesh on display and overall the way I look, as I have over the past months. Part of it could be a result of being unable to do much about the way I have begun to look. The baby needed my thighs to be sturdier, the waist to accumulate more layers of fat and my breasts to fill up. Side effects such as glowing skin and a healthier mane have been helpful in dealing with the not-so-welcome changes. Anyway, the point is that impending motherhood has brought out a new love in me for myself, warts and imperfections included. I feel good despite the toll being a human incubator has taken. I think I can handle myself better. I am more at peace with myself although this could be a smugness induced by the feeling that everything at this point is justified and excusable. Still, I am looking forward to get into shape, do yoga, run, cycle, dress up more, laugh more, and be more active, once my baby is here. Not for its sake but for mine.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
B-217
In this household, an alarm clock is not needed to usher in the day. The light streaming in from innumerable windows; the chatter of people out on morning walk; the sweeper ringing door bells, shaking housewives out of sweet dreams; and the stillness of foggy mornings broken by chiming temple bells, all mingle together to welcome you to yet another day.
I pull the blanket a little higher, hoping to block out the distractions. The fragrance of my parents' early morning tea tickles my drowsy mind but fails to rouse my body tired from endless tossing through the night. I take my time to begin my day. And by the time I have woken up, the wheels of my mother’s domestic routine are already turning full steam. It is a pleasure to wake up to a familiar world - the smell of spices, mom’s voice nearing a crescendo as our helper fails to understand the urgency in her voice and dad talking loudly on the cell phone. It means all is well with my world. It means I am safe. It means I am home.
I pull the blanket a little higher, hoping to block out the distractions. The fragrance of my parents' early morning tea tickles my drowsy mind but fails to rouse my body tired from endless tossing through the night. I take my time to begin my day. And by the time I have woken up, the wheels of my mother’s domestic routine are already turning full steam. It is a pleasure to wake up to a familiar world - the smell of spices, mom’s voice nearing a crescendo as our helper fails to understand the urgency in her voice and dad talking loudly on the cell phone. It means all is well with my world. It means I am safe. It means I am home.
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