Project Pregnancy: My Story

So I have been wanting to write about my Pregnancy story for a while now. But just didn't have the courage or time. this draft has been lying with me incomplete for over 2 years. Today is the day I thought. Anyway here goes..

4 years back around the month of March..  a little bean was conceived.. First child for us, first grandchild for both our families.. everyone was elated.... wishes poured in... blessings were sent.... temples were visited and advices were given in abundance.  The little bean went to survive in me and the big bad world for no longer that 4 -5 weeks..which is my best guess.. at week 6 she was nowhere to be seen.. it broke us.. shattered me.. only wanting it more...We didn't know the reason why, whether it was something I did or it was completely natural (which is what I've been told a million times after)

Many things happened in the coming 2 years.. we moved cities.. left part of our lives back in Mumbai.. built a new world in the Gurgaon... were lucky to find old friends who became our extended family and support in this concrete jungle..

While time to time we would worry and think about our angel baby and how there was no sign of it.. did research.. visited doctors.. spent a lot of money and blood (literally) in inane amount of tests and treatments.. monthly visit to our OB/GYN.. rituals of ultrasounds had become as much a part of our lives and had taken over the lazy weekends and mad parties with friends... while the hospital visits had driven me up the wall.. I was going or a follicular study every month. Which is literally an ultrasound 4 days of every month to monitor the follicles and eggs in my ovaries so we could Nail it (literally) when the conditions were ripe. This went on for  about 6 months. I was sick of the ultrasound machine, the gel, the ceiling that I would stare at blankly the hospital smell. everything!!! We even considered IVF at one point. But as you can already imagine this wasn't going anywhere. and there was actually NOTHING wrong with my body. but it was just not meant to be I guess.
C was keeping calm as he usually is and was a strong backbone throughout.. My families were a true gem.. didn't put any pressure on us.. were only concerned about our health..

I decided to take a break.. Had enough of going through tests and treatments and not finding anything wrong with either of us.. everyone would just say.. keep calm.. give it time.. don't stress.. easier said than done I would think.. so March 2014 (exactly after 2 years the last time I conceived) I stopped all my medication and hormonal support... told my Doc I wont be visiting her for a month.. needed a break.. she was more than supportive. and life went as usual..  It was Saturday and I had invited a few friends over for dinner. All preps were done, C was out for some work and I was home alone. Guests would arrive any minute.  So I went to the bathroom to get ready. I realized my period was delayed by a few days. The pregnancy test kit was right in front of me in my drawer. "No Vani you have done this a million times and it only leaves you disappointed. Don't even think about it." I told myself. But Hope got the better of me. so what if its negative for the 100th time, I'm used to it. Atleast I'll know and I wont think about it anymore. Then I did it. Braced myself. Are those two pink lines? Am I hallucinating? But I didn't even take my medication this month. this cant be happening. Let me do it again. Did another one. Again the two pink lines gleamed. I literally froze.. my hands and legs were shaking from excitement, nervousness, fear and wtf .. theres noone here..

 I called up C the next second and told him that I just did the test.. and he could guess from my voice.. this time I was not crying from disappointment.. this time I was crying with pure joy. Told him to get his ass back home immediately.. next I called up my best friend P who literally was jumping on the other side of the phone, drove at breakneck speed and arrived even before C did.. She immediately rushed to my bathroom to first confirm the tests.. as any best friend would who thought I probably hallucinating... deep in my heart even I wanted someone else to confirm this for me as I wasn't sure about anything anymore.. She beamed with joy and we literally hugged like never before..

The rest of the evening went on with me behaving completely calm and composed and noone could guess the emotional roller coaster going on inside of me.. they were only a bit amused that I wasn't having my usual wine.. the looks C and I were exchanging coz we still couldn't believe it..
What 2 years of tests, injections and pills couldn't do... it happened only when I decided to give my body a break and my brain some peace..

Only if I hadn't abused my body mentally and physically and kept calm he would have been in our lives sooner.. Hope my story can bring some respite or relief to some woman somewhere reading this and going through the same.. I would like you to remember that:
IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT
IT CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE
ITS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD

Our bodies are amazing, we heal fast and are blessed with the miraculous ability to create and bring humans into this world.

Today, I have a healthy 2 year old chatterbox of a son... and even if I try really hard I just cannot remember how I truly felt in all those trying times and the 2 years we spent in despair and frustration. I guess everyone was right after all .. " Keep Calm and Give it time"

Freedom with a pinch of salt - Mom of a Preschooler

Wow. its been 6 months since I last ranted here.  The only place where I can rave and rant about what I want without anticipating or witnessing reactions of the people reading it.

So a lot has changed in the last 6 months. of course the topmost & probably only important topic of my life right now will always be my son. He is now 2. He has become somewhat independent. A parrot who literally repeats everything we say. He speaks in a language only the inhabitants of my house will understand. A mix of Hindi & Marathi. And even as I type this my mothers nagging voice plays in my head how he doesn't know my mother tongue Telugu at all and how our relatives will never be able to talk to him.

But I digress. This post is about how once your toddler is finally a toddler and enters his terrible twos, has become slightly independent, is able to communicate better, have their choices & opinions. its actually a bitter sweet feeling. 

You are elated that he lets you be and doesn't physically stick to you the whole day and has more than 30 seconds of attention span towards his toys or books.  He now knows who is a friend and who he doesn't want to be around. He started playschool. At first it was a nightmare. Felt like I was a heartless stone of a mom who left her child in a cage for a whole 2 hours. while he cried and cried until he no longer had the energy and sat quietly through the rest of the class. This lasted for about a month. Then it was 'Christmas & New Year holidays' 'Lag gayi', I thought. it will be the same drama all over again on Jan 2nd where he would have forgotten all about playschool. 

Come Jan 2nd, its D-Day, from the moment I woke him up, I started singing the rhymes he hears at school, preparing to say 'good morning teacher' and how every morning all good babies go to school. Everyone at home followed suite and started building u school as the place to be for him. He was reaction less. Usually a chatterbox who had a reaction or quip to whatever is being spoken to him , this time he just IGNORED everything we were saying about school. Anyhow I managed to put him in uniform, and husband and I went to drop him at school.
We expected the usual crying and howling and braced ourselves to be heartless. we even made a strategy that we will first take him to the play area, distract him and then slyly leave him with the teacher. 

We get down from the car and start walking towards the school gate. He walks up to the security lady who rather loudly greets him ' GOooooooddd Morningggg agastyaaaaaaa''.... He goes.. 'Doo monin' in a volume that only an ant could have heard. but I did notice it and was slightly amused. Next up , the teacher while checking his tempertaure with the automatic laser thingy... goooddd morning agastyaaaaaa.. you are a healthy baby lets go to class" and then what happened next was to me close to a miracle. 
The teacher opens the door, he walks in cooly and calmly ignoring another teacher who had her arms already spread out to pick him as he would resist going in. 
He walked in without looking back at us or waving good bye. Removes his bag and head further in and the door closes. Me and husband look at each other and go 'what just happened" ... if this was a Bollywood film, we would  break into a celebratory Bhangra dance performance while Dhol players would magically appear around us. But it wasn't and this was real. 

What I felt that moment is exactly what is called a 'bitter sweet' emotion. While I was over the moon that our child has finally embraced the concept of school and is okay being on his own without one of us around him. What? He was OKAY without us being around for a whole two hours? He no longer cries his lungs out for Mamma? a small part of me was sad that all this was happening too soon. Cliched but this thought must be crossing a mother a zillion times any given day. 

Slowly and steadily he started enjoying school and used to look forward to wearing his uniform and bag and going to school everyday. He says the loudest BYEEEEE to his Ajji (grandmother) before leaving home. 

And one day I came back from work and the first thing he says while pointing at a wall where a small star sticker was stuck " Mamma woh dekho Starrrr.. teacher ne mere haath pe lagaya star.. Main Doo Boi (Good Boy) hoon" tsk tsk (my heart was crying and saying.. Mere beta bada ho gaya.) I hugged him like I would never let go and for the rest of the evening his proud Ajji was telling the neighbours, thier dogs, thier maids everyone on how Agastya got a star today at school. 

Play-school Milestone - CHECK

Why I think being a Mom is Awesomesauce!

Motherhood

I thought about writing on this for a long time. It’s not just a word.  It’s a way of life. A road that you take from where there is no returning back. It shapes your future which may or may not be what you had in mind.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s a dark place where no one should every head. Maybe, barring some parts. Its like a job you have always wanted and once you are in it for a long time frustration kicks in and you seek out for greener pastures. But in this life job of being a mother or a parent, there is no way out. You are in it for good.

Before a baby came out of me, life was good. Not just good, it was awesome. It was what I now see on the timelines of my single or married (but no kids) friends. Exciting lives. No deadlines to get back home, be it weekends or weekdays. All weekends would be pre-booked with party plans or trips. We were free birds.

The major issues in my life were such that I now find extremely trivial. I would get super hassled if I didn’t make it for my monthly pedicure or didn’t end up taking that road trip that was on my list. Or I didn’t find that one dress in my size which had to wear for a party that very weekend. I would get worked up if we were late by 10 minutes to a party or if I would sweat from the house to the car coz my make up or hair is getting spoilt and I would not get to make a ravishing entry when we reach the party. Now if you ask me, if I can make it for a party no matter how shabbily dressed or late, I am still elated coz I at least made it to a freaking gathering that doesn’t involve legos and minions.

But the point I’m trying to make is that its like life had no meaning or purpose before this. What would you rather remember, the fabulous entry you made at a party or the first time your baby held your finger and started walking and how he enjoyed being the star and that extremely animated cheer from you.

Would you rather worry about the size of the dress you didn’t fit into (well try one size bigger) or the fact that your baby didn’t poop all day and the things you have to do to make sure his bowel movements are intact.

Would you rather make it to your monthly pedicure with aroma oils on a Saturday afternoon or snuggle up in bed with next to your baby with a heavenly baby smell coming from his soft hair.

So Motherhood is about choices. Not LIFE choices per se. But small momentary choices. Its like every now and then you are asked a “what would you do if” type of question. Where you have to choose between what you want and what would you rather do. For me it’s about the latter. I rather have a random conversation with my son in a language only he and I can understand than to sit in a social gathering pretending to be interested in a conversation about bags & shoes.

I would rather sit and watch baby TV and lip sync all the baby songs over & over again than watching the latest episode of GOT. I get all my dope on FB anyway. Also after Agastya, I have developed a distaste for videos with blood and gore & least of all - incest.

All I’m trying to say is I would rather be a mother of beautiful loving adorable baby who loves me with all his heart. Discovering everyday that I have more strength than I ever thought and that I have the ability to shape an actual person into being a good human.

This tiny human, who looks at me like I’m the queen of this world even if I’m in baggy clothes with dried up food stains and messed up hair than having the perfect Instagram life with pictures of weekend brunches, cruises, tote bags and high heels.

I chose this Life. And I don’t regret this for even one second. I may crib and cry on some really bad and trying days. but those are the exact days that I look back upon with a sense of victory and accomplishment. If I can get through those times, then everything else is a cakewalk. Nothing in this world seems challenging or impossible anymore.  Armed with the baby on my side, I am ready to conquer each day. Bring it on bitches!

Want to leave you all with my fav videos on Motherhood ever... enjoy!