“Oops sorry! I only rolled on to my sides very gently. You are a fussy kid! You can’t expect me to lay erect the whole night.”
“I’m not a fussy kid! YOU ARE A CARELESS MOM!”
“Careless? Me? I gave up coffee, I gave up wearing jeans, I gave up doing all the crazy things that I do and you call me careless? Now, you are a fussy UNGRATEFUL kid!”
“Oh yeah? Do responsible moms participate in badminton matches when their baby is one and a half month inside the womb? You have no idea how difficult it is to cling onto your slippery uterine wall!”
“Don’t start on that again! I wasn’t aware that I was pregnant then. I can’t be responsible for that.”
“Oh God! Why can’t I be blessed with a nice non-pestering peaceful baby?”
“Listen mom! We only have to put up with each other physically for another 6 months or so and then later we’ll part ways. So, let’s not make life difficult for each other.”
“What do you want me to do now?”
“Just roll on to your sides very very gently, okie.”
“Alright, alright and you better don’t wake me up again until dawn.”
As daylight filters itself through the dark curtains of our window, I lazily open my eyes and heave a longing sigh at my hubby who sleeps like a contented kid. Obviously, he isn’t the one carrying our kid.
“Wake up, wake up!” I was all enthused to disturb my husband just like I was disturbed in the night by our baby in my womb. After all, someone did call women jealous.
“Good Morning Archu!” (followed by a big yawn) “Its weekend…one more hour, pleaseeee.”
Look at that! He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet. “No grace hours today. Your baby didn’t let me sleep yesterday night. It’s only fair that you give up some sleep too.”
“Ha! Like mom, like kid!”
“What are you talking about? I was such a sweet well-behaved baby.”
“Really? Your mom wasn’t so sure about that when she talked about how you rushed out into the world 10 days before the expected due date…how you cried through the night soon after your mom’s C-section.”
“Err…well…your mom did tell about what a fatty you were at birth making her go thru intense labor. You are no better than me.”
“Certainly! That is why we cannot expect our baby to be calm and cool. Mischief is in its genes and considering that it is going to be born to a crazy couple like us, I’d disown the kid if it was any less naughty.”
“Whatever! Now you better wake up. WAKE UP!” I pull out his blankets, switch off the fan and walk out of the room, satisfied that his slumber is shaken. He will have to wake up now…haa haa haa hee hee hee (imagine a devilish grin on my face).
As I boiled milk in the kitchen, I felt my tummy and there was no tweeky feeling there. After having disturbed my sleep most devilishly as it does every night, there is my baby, all quiet and angelic in the morning. Like mom, like kid, uh? I was just about to acknowledge my hubby when he casually walked into the kitchen.
“Did you have your breakfast and pill? Care for some Horlicks?” My hubby was all caring and concerned. O’course he is usually of the caring type but my pregnancy makes him extra caring (I wonder if our kid would call him careless too).
“That’s okie, I am done. You go and get ready. We need to go for the ultrasound scan today.” My lips play a smile as I reply to him. Pregnancy has its advantages though, at least during the initial stages. You are properly pampered and all your cravings are made to be met. That is without mentioning the goodies specially prepared and packed for you from your family. You ask for juice and there is it. You try to do some work and someone rushes to your aid. I feel like a princess…a princess with a jumpy froggy baby inside my belly.
My husband and I waited at the hospital lobby for my turn to get scanned. My eyes though scanned the lot of expectant mothers at various stages of pregnancy. How many of them are first timers like me? Do they feel the way I do or do they feel different? Should I have a small talk with the mom-to-be next to me? As I sat wondering , with thoughts wandering around, I was called in into the sonology room.
The doctor, who with his spectacles and comp, looked like a programmer to me greeted us with a plastered pleasing smile. He wasted no time in pleasantries and got to his job, placing the ultrasound device over me. That must have been the moment when my hubby and I got so engrossed into the monitor. A blurry image beamed on the screen which got clearer with the doc’s explanation. A tiny little being almost the size of an orange was floating within a confined space, wriggling its very very tiny arms and feet. The doctor pointed out the miniscule heart and almost simultaneously our heart skipped a beat. To know that at the very moment, this little being was happening inside me was so exhilarating that I could feel goose pimples over my hands. Miracle! Surely, every little baby is a miracle!
My hubby and I talked about the baby all day and still didn’t feel enough. The one minute scan video was recorded and replayed in our minds over and over again that all we did all day was relish it and relish it again. That night, our junior started off at its usual time.
“Oh Mom! You don’t understand! It hurts!”
“My dear, I love you!”
“I said, I love you.”
“You see mom, you don’t want me to be the super-senti- serial types, do you? I wouldn’t be disturbing you every night and be craving for your attention if I didn’t love you. I love you too mom!”
FREEZE! The rest is silence. Anything said more would taint the charm. I am freezing this post here.