The Motherhood Chronicles - VI

People say being a mother is a full time job – I beg to differ, it’s not just a full time job, it’s a full life job. Never has this been more evident to me than during the last stages of my pregnancy and now – after my delivery.

My mom has not been a person in the best of her health. Suffering from asthma, any work load greater than her normal day to day activities takes a severe toll on her. Of the few things she cherished in her life were her morning and evening walks, her afternoon nap and her freedom to do minimal cooking for dinner.

Then came along Nandu and the best laid plans went awry. Now 24 hours is too less for my mom. She get up at around 5 a.m., or lets put it another way, she doesn’t sleep at night – taking care of the baby – feeding her, rocking her to sleep, changing her…..she makes breakfast and lunch and is off to work by 7 am. She comes back and somehow there is always work to be done at home, which she does. The only luxury she has now is a 3-4 hour sleep (which is all she has in 24 hours) in the afternoon, which is also normally disturbed by the baby-related happenings in the house.

For someone who falls sick at a slight increase in activities, my mom seems to be in good health. But I know that it’s all appearances. She is reaching into the innermost recesses of her will power and gaining strength to carry, literally bringing up my kid in a way that inconveniences me the least and gives me time and strength to get on with my life.

For someone who kept saying that “people should take care of their own kids themselves and not let the grandparents do the caring”, her actions completely belie her beliefs. The amount of love, affection and care she has for the kid, I’m afraid even I won’t be able to compete.

Then there is the man behind the woman. My dad is like the silent unsung hero of a war. The amount of work my dad does behind the curtains is unbelievable. In fact it is only because of this unwavering wall of support that my mom can lean on, is she able to carry on. He cooks, runs all the errands for the house, takes care of the kid when mom & I are resting and then some, things that he was unable to do for me, he does for my kid.

When I see how I and my husband deal with each other and generally with life, I feel sorry for Nandu, for she will never experience the love and support that I have.

The Motherhood Chronicles - V

Now that the kid is almost 3 months old, she has grown onto us. Everything is about her, every decision is taken after checking its effect on her, every body's comfort is sacrificed for hers and everyones life is kept aside for hers. Inspite of all this, when she looks at you with those round eyes full of innocence and maybe even unadulterated love - not knowing who you are, how you look, not judging you - simply delighted that you exist and she is with you - all is forgotten. The sleepless nights, the petty inconveniences, the fact that you suddenly lost out your spot as the family's favourite child. All that remains embedded in your conscience is that look and the fact that you could do anything to keep that look as it is today.

When parents tell their children that you will realise what it is to be a parent only when you become one, believe me, no child is ever prepared for what is going to hit them - both the good and the bad. The fact that you lose all of your freedom, the fact that a small travel requires a trainload of the kid's stuff to be lugged around, the fact that you are perpetually covered in pee and vomit and the fact that this human life totally depends on you for its existence - the responsibility, the power of it all.... its overwhelming like no other experience.

But when I sit back and think, I really wonder, why we have kids? A couple of days back there was a blast in Mumbai - some 25 people lost their lives, a hundred or so were injured. Its not about Mumbai, it happens everywhere. Then there is the everyday occurance of rape, child molestation which you hope and pray and do everything in your power to ensure doesn't befall your loved ones. Somewhere down the line you yourself crush your childs dreams and turn her into a machine who is supposed to top in everything, earn the best living (even if she forgets to live a life while trying to earn one), toe the line that society has drawn and generally "do well" as per general norms. To top it as the kid grows, there are certain qualities - good and bad that they pick up. You can do the best you can to get all the good stuff in, but the bad always seeps in unnoticed. Before you know your kid is lying to you or not as empathatic as you hoped she will be or is as greedy as the relatives you used to bitch about in family gatherings. Then there comes the time when she accuses you of not being able to bridge the generation gap - she drinks, maybe smokes, has live-in relations with a guy (or a girl) and basically there is not much you can do about. You can just hope that you die with a clear conscience that you did your best and maybe that just was not enough.

Inspite of knowing all this I wonder why I had Nandu. I consider it to be an extremely selfish act on my part. In my quest to fit into society and to do as is expected of me, I have created a human life, which I have no skills or means of protecting from all that I know exists both out in the world and in one's self.

The motherhood chronicles - IV

Some people surprise you even after long years of your association with them. In my case, I can’t claim to have a long association with him, though we’ve been married for more than 3 years now. Having spent the better part of the 3 years travelling, we do reconnect with each other on the occasions that our employers allow us to be in the same country. I have pegged him with a lot of not so desirable adjectives and was thoroughly convinced that he is just an over grown kid – completely lazy with not too overt a sense of responsibility.

So it came as a surprise, no, that’s putting it too mildly, a pleasant shock is a better term, when I saw him after my delivery. If you are a guy who sees his wife immediately after a gap of 4 months after a C-section you will understand what I mean. At around 85Kg with a bunch of stitches and acute pain with every movement, I repelled even myself. Pregnancy and delivery, contrary to common myth, is not a very enjoyable experience, at least in the early stages. So I was amazed when he was all full of affection for me. I was convinced, I was going through some kind of post partum depression and he was there by my side convincing that everything that I felt – right from the guilt at putting everyone around me to inconvenience to the feeling of desperation that life as I know it has come to end; was completely irrational and that we would get through everything just fine.

Maybe after he saw what I was going through to have given him the most precious gift that I could ever give him, he felt it was necessary to do so – maybe he was trying to do right by me.

But then it didn’t have to continue. So my amazement continued when he was always by my side when I would feed, trying to support me in whatever way he could, which was mainly by looking up the internet on his new iphone for all and sundry topics ranging from how to breast feed to what is colic & what could be done about it. He was also completely in support of using supplemental feed for the kid when I was unable to breastfeed. There were times when he would take the kid from the room where I slept in just so that I could get a few extra minutes of sleep. For a guy who wouldn’t wake up from a deep sleep even if there was an earthquake, he would come running when the kid would bawl at night. For a guy who couldn’t be bothered to move his butt off the couch to help in household chores, he would spent long hours carrying the kid, comforting her, putting her to sleep.

The kind of family structure we have in India leads to the would be mother going to her maternal house for delivery and normally staying abck there for the first few months. I haven’t heard of too many guys who keep visiting the kid in this period due to multiple reasons – one – they would have to face their mom in law too often and that is not a pleasant prospect for any guy and second – there is nothing exciting happening in a kids life in the 1st 3 months – they don’t recognize you, spend most of their time sleeping, feeding and pooping. So your presence or absence as a father really doesn’t make much of a difference. But he was determined to be around for every stage of the kids growth. For a guy for whom coming to Mumbai and living here for any extended period of time constituted the worst nightmare, the kid turned him around. He actually sought a project in Mumbai or Pune or thereabouts so that he could be closer to the kid.

His laziness in his personal life continues that he still doesn’t cook when he is alone in Bangalore and hates doing the dishes. God knows when the house was last cleaned and laundry done. Nothing else seems to have changed, but he seems to be a transformed person when he is around the kid. I have always known that there are other family members of his who take precedence over me in his life and I was cool with that – I don’t expect him to forsake his family of 30 years for his wife of 3 years. But now I guess everyone takes a back seat – only his kid takes precedence – I guess that is how it is supposed to be.

The motherhood chronicles - III

It all started with an important occasion – mom’s 56th birthday on 21st April. I had a Doc’s appointment scheduled for the same day. We planned to go lunching and shopping after the appointment. I was still contemplating on what gift I could get her and had frozen on a portable music system which I could get from Chembur market. It was all planned out when fate decided to intervene. The day finally ended in tears with my mom getting her most prized gift of all – a grandchild.

All occasions since then have been blurred.

A few days after Nandu was born, I got a call from my Mom’s best friend wishing me Happy Mother’s day and for a few seconds I didn’t know how to react. Mother’s day was reserved for me wishing my mom and getting her a card or something – not that I actually remembered it ever. Thanks for TOI for reminding us of such mindless occasions promptly, as if I needed a day to tell my mom that I loved and respected her.

Then came my birthday on 13th May. It was my 1st birthday since I gained memory that I didn’t receive a gift on. No new clothes, no surprise gifts, no eating out – nothing. A bunch of well wishers did call to wish me and I enjoyed the attention shifting back on me, albeit for just a day. I guess all birthdays for a long time will be a replica of this one. And to top it all, it was my 30th. The one where I’m supposed to go over the hill. Anyway, I was more under the hill than over it.

18th May was Nandu’s big day. She turned 28 days old on 18th. As per our traditions, it was her 1st birthday. And we celebrated it in style. Our closest relatives, all of mom’s dear friends, neighbours from our society, a few old family friends – all turned up. Nandu was not in her best form on the day. She was a bit sick and spend her time partly puking and partly sleeping. I was happy to be among so many people again and though there were more enquiries about Nandu than me, it still felt good to be back among people and not encaged at home with no other thoughts than about Nandu and her feeds and her health and her sleep. It may be because of this attitude of mine that I over heard someone say, “What a mother, utterly no concern for the child.” Did it hurt to hear that - of course it did. Did I contest the comment – no I didn’t. The child had been puking and as I am generally considered incapable of handling the child, she was not brought to me for anything other than feeding. She was in the safe hands of my aunt and I trusting my aunt more than myself, saw no reason to be concerned or fawing over Nandu and basically not to be enjoying myself. I guess, you lose the right to enjoy yourself or think of yourself once you have a child. If you have any such selfish thought, you are branded an unfit mother. Anyway, the lowest point of the day came a couple of days later when we got the photos of the occasion and I realized that there was not a single photo of me with Nandu. There were photos with my parents, my aunt, my inlaws and even photos with my hubby. None with me – other than a consolation prize kind of photo where I was standing next to my hubby who was holding her with my hand strategically place beneath her as if to justify my existence in the photo.

The month ended with my parents 31st wedding anniversary on 24th May. A day as ordinary as it gets. It was exactly like 23rd and 25th May.

The only occasions that would dominate our lives for the next 15-20 years will have something or the other to do with Nandu. I guess all I can do is to hope and pray that all those occasions be happy ones.

Motherhood Chronicles - II

“Are you enjoying your motherhood?”, the doctor asked me. It was a loaded question and I couldn’t truthfully say “Yes – It’s a joy. It’s completed my life. It’s what I had been waiting for. It’s given new meaning to my life. I couldn’t say any of these things truthfully. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a mother. Everyone around me including my husband and my father seem to be enjoying her presence and existence. The only person who seems to be aloof from the merriment is me. For me it’s as if I’m seeing someone else’s life from outside. I still don’t feel a part of my own life. Having a child is said to be a life altering experience, but for me it’s been an event which has made me forget my own life.

I’ve always been someone without too much attachment to children. So when time came for me to have my own, I was skeptical as to how I would deal with it. There were no surprises. I didn’t have any sudden surge of maternal instinct or feeling. When she cries, I’m the last one in the house to get affected. My mother and mother in law come rushing in to pacify her. When she throws up, everyone at home gets psyched. I browse the internet, find that throwing up is normal in infants and decide that there is nothing to be worried about. I’ve never stayed and watched my bai give her a bath. I’ve never dressed her up after a bath. I’ve never put her to sleep. I’ve practically done nothing. Then you may ask “What do I do as a mother?” – practically nothing. I feed her and that too not too effectively. Most of the time she is still hungry after I feed her. I sometimes feel tired to do this only thing that I’m required to do and my mother uncomplainingly feeds her Lactogen. I’ve changed her diaper a couple of times and helped my mom or mom in law clean her up after her potty or vomit sessions. That’s about it. My role in my child’s life can be easily substituted by a tin can of Lactogen.

Everyone seems to find enough reason to hold her, talk to her, play with her i.e. everyone except me. Somehow everyone in the house seem to think of me only when it is time to feed her. Otherwise, if she is crying in my arms, no one thinks I’m capable of sushing her, if she is drowsy, no one thinks I’m capable of putting her to sleep, if she is awake – well there are so many people fawning over her that I feel out of place. She is my child – amn’t I supposed to be the one closest to her? I feel as though I’m the only person who she has no connect with. My dad reads her the newspaper and she seemingly enjoys it. My husband narrates events of the day to her and she listens aptly to him. My mom is constantly playing with her. My mother in law is always on the look out to take her from my arms to either put her to sleep or to play with her. The only person who has spent an equally less or maybe lesser time with her than me is my grandmom and that is mainly because she is 76 and is very skeptical of holding the baby.

Then there are these comments which people say to soothe the kid when crying – mainly “Didn’t mommy feed you enough?”, “Didn’t mommy feed you on time?” which may be totally innocent but make me not want to be in the same room as the child when her mouth is not stuffed with my teats. There are also theories – interesting ones which again have to point fingers at me – “It’s my breast milk dripping on her face which has caused all the heat rashes on her face” – I guess the sweltering heat of Mumbai has nothing to do with it. “It must be the foul smell that you emit which makes the kid stop feeding early leading to her stomach not getting filled” – what do you expect me to smell like when I’m covered in dripping sticky milk, vomit, urine, stool and my own blood from the eternal bleeding which I’m to suffer for at least 40 days after I give birth.

But maybe I’m being too unfair by blaming only others for this situation. I’ve seen my husband just sit and look at her when she is sleeping – unconditional love written large on his face. I’ve seen my mom – almost half dead after all the house work and sleepless for days together staying up all night ensuring that the kid is sleeping well and doesn’t vomit. I’ve seen my dad pick her up and walk for long periods of time and enjoying talking to her. And what do I do – I normally watch TV or stare into emptiness or fall asleep while feeding her. The fact that I take absolutely no initiative to bond with the kid really doesn’t help my cause. And the saddest part is that I don’t feel like taking that initiative. There are so many others doing everything – why should I bother?

Anyway, I’m not sure how things will pan out – but being the die hard pessimist that I am, I don’t have much hope.

The Motherhood Chronicles - I

15 days back my life as I had known it for 30 odd years changed – whether for better or for worse needs to be seen. The change though gargantuan in nature came in a pretty small package, all of 2.75kgs and red – no I’m not talking of fresh ripe tomatoes… I’m talking about the stork visiting me with a lovely daughter as a gift. It’s one of those changes that nature gives you nine months to prepare for – both mentally and physically and still when the time comes you feel like an engineering student on the eve of his final exams – totally clueless with a new found faith in God.

It all started way back in August of 2010 when I discovered that I had conceived. Now, I don’t know what an ideal reaction to an incident like that should be, but I tried to act all pumped up and excited. Frankly, I was shitting bricks. What does this mean – and my mind was conjuring up all the extreme negative side effects of parenthood – total loss of freedom, additional responsibilities which I was not ready for, stretching my already stretched body to its maximum, additional expenses, maybe sacrifices required on the career front… was I ready for all that? Nope I wasn’t – and I didn’t think I ever would be. So I decided that as a matter of “social obligation” which is what my husband calls marriage (and it is one of the few things that I agree with him on) and family; a child had to be had and the timing was as good as any. I was just about to cross 30 and apparently my biological clock would be ticking away to glory and getting pregnant and delivering would only become an uphill task going forward. If the misery had to be undergone, better do it when the body is capable of doing it with the least amount of trouble.

Then came the months of uneventful checkups with a gynec. Even the selection of a gynec was a totally lackluster event. We looked for a hospital / nursing home close to our residence, called them up and asked them if they had a gynec – no references, no hi-fi hospitals, no second opinions. I had a pretty mundane pregnancy. No complications (touchwood), no excitements, no hiccups. Life was so ordinary that if an expectant mother were to ask me what are the symptoms of morning sickness, I would have to give an answer from one of the myriad pregnancy books as I have no practical experience of the same. My tummy didn’t even show till about the 7^th month. The highpoint in my life was the 1^st scan we took of the kid where I heard the kids heart beat. I was a weird feeling and the 1^st time that the feeling sunk in that there was life inside of me and I was responsible for it.

I was working from home practically for the whole duration of my term and though the work was hectic, I didn’t have to travel at all and that was a big relief. There was so much work that I didn’t have time to mull over the details of pregnancy like “is the baby kicking”, “do you have cravings”, “do you feel tired” etc. I was on phone all the time with no time even for the mandatory “walk”. Everyone at home and work decided that the kid was going to be an expert in the field of internal controls and anti corruption regulations around the world when it came out because that’s all what I spoke for around 7 months out of the 9 months of pregnancy. Then as usual at a crucial junction of my pregnancy when something had to happen, my hubby decided to go for a short stint to Singapore. The only thing we as a couple have an unspoken agreement about is the importance of our respective careers - I didn’t want to stop him. So with him out of the way, the path was clear for me to leave the dreaded city of Bangalore and come home to Mumbai.

In Mumbai, my parents smothered me with affection to an extent that I felt guilty being pregnant and turning their life upside down – little did I know what was in store after the baby came. Their actions also scared the living day lights out of me – these were big shoes to fill and these actions were too tough to equal. I could not for the life of me visualize myself or my husband being so selfless and doing all the same things for our child that my parents were doing for me.

And then the big day arrived – I was due to go for a checkup on 21^st April – it was mom’s birthday and we had the whole afternoon planned. As usual, the best laid plans are the ones which go totally haywire. My water broke at the stroke of midnight on 21^st – when the rest of the world was sleeping and I was contemplating waking my Mom and wishing her a very happy birthday – here I was waking her and telling her – Its time. It was a week early than we expected, but then the kid had other plans I guess. There was no mad rush to the hospital – I sure that if I wrote a detailed book on the days and months of my pregnancy, it would turn out to be one of the most boring books ever written as nothing exciting happened.

We were at the hospital at half past midnight and the doc was there. No, I didn’t feel any pains and the doc expected no action till morning. Sleep well – its going to be a tough day tomorrow. The day came, many well wishers, mostly mom’s colleagues and friends who were almost like my surrogate mom’s were at the hospital more to provide moral support than for anything else. Between 6 am and 6 pm, the doc tried inducing labour pains some 4 times and finally gave me an epidural when she was convinced that I wasn’t going to deliver normally. She thought that if I wasn’t going to deliver normally I might as well be spared the pain. Finally at 6.50pm or so, nearly 19 hours after my water broke, I went under the knife and in 10 minutes the kid was out.

There was new life on planet E and I was responsible for it. I didn’t know what to feel, I drifted off into a fitful sleep aided by the anesthesia……Little did I know that for a very long time to come, all my sleeps would be fitful and an 8 hour sleep would be a luxury that I couldn’t afford – very much like a BMW or Audi.