I am not a mom- I am a supermom genetically

It is 9.03 pm  and my kiddo just dozed off ( yep its a phenomenological, narrative :) ). I just loaded my washing machine so that I could switch it on tomorrow at 5 am. We have a power shortage here in our apartment after 7 am so I like to prep ahead. I made my pork stir fry for tonight and mango curry for tomorrow so I can dash to my daughter's pediatrician for her shots tomorrow. I made my upma for breakfast to avoid early morning panic attacks when kiddo demands her feed and my time. I have made a mental note of things I need to buy tomorrow before I start work on Thursday also the stuff I need to buy for my next order. Oops my baby just wailed its milk time. It's over she is fast asleep again and I am back to my desktop. I am a mother of a 10 month old and  wife of a man who works from 11 am to 11 pm. This is my life. Life of an IIT ian who defended her thesis a month ago. I am not a monster mom. Yes I blog at night, my hair has greyed, I have no time for exercise, I have not touched a book after 30th of Jan (that was when I defended my thesis). I am right now bargaining the rates for chapathi for wholesale for my office, talking to a colleague as I write this. But my kid just had her apple and oat cereal, she is well fed for tonight. At times I forget to eat, but I don't forget that evening snack for my hubby, he has his fruits in a box pre - packed the night before. My body aches right not but I remember I have to dust that shelf in the corner of my living room. 

Is it possible to be like me, I think so, because some things are genetic. My mom was just like me. She skipped her sleep after night shift to make us kids gulab jamuns when we woke up. She knew the difference between shrubs and leguminous plants despite not having a B.ed in botany and admonished our science teacher who taught us these terms wrongly. I am the daughter a woman who survived her deceased husband and carried her head high, got her kids educated and married. I am the daughter of a woman who creates a havoc at the electricity  office for misreading her bills, the daughter of a woman who goes for a hysterectomy surgery telling us kids to do our homework and she will be back.

 I am the wife of a man who calls me and tells me to ask those women to shut up and go do their job,and that he married me because I was different. A man who makes me not want to curse the men folk entirely, who tells me he will take care of our kid not because he thinks I will mint money, but because he knows I would never be happy being tied down, and that I deserve to do what I want from life.

Today I was told by few that my mom had no option so she worked and now that I have an option I should not work. What is my option here, I ask? the fact that my husband toils for 12 hours risking his sanity? For once I feel pity on the poor men. Why should men bear all the burden while many of them would like to take the back seat once in a while? I can vouch for this, that my hubby is very caring towards Sarah and milder than me.I know a lot of men who are technically the mothers in their household, who cook, take care of kids lot better than their wives. While I don't undermine women who stay back home, I think they should definitely not state their husband earning sufficiently as an excuse. I firmly believe even when a man asks his wife to stay at home he is exerting the manliness imposed on him by the society. Given a chance if the society sanctioned, many men would have loved to stay back. So why can't some women want to work?

Having grown up in a state like Kerala where we have shunned such stereotypes, I can say for sure, there are men who have no qualms regarding their wives being employed. But I see a lot of people criticizing Kerala for this attitude. I often here many telling me "You Keralites never take care of your children, you are money minded and leave your children to maids".  Let me assure you I grew up under a maid and I have no hang ups.

While I love the sociological explanation ok Kerala and their women, I would want to tell the upset parties that, because our women work we have a better sex ratio than the national average. We don't kill our daughters because we don't consider them a burden, we know they can do much more than the men and therefore our women are independent.

And in the end dear Sarah, mamma wants to work for herself because some day you would want to do that for yourself too, explore, discover and be alive. I know you understand it more than anyone, you were within me when we both wrote the thesis, you traveled with me when I submitted and defended this thesis and you are my true supporter in all my kitchen adventures. I let this post stay here for you to know some day what I went through.

So please let people decide their priorities and don't impose your battle field and insecurities onto someone who wants the best of both worlds.

I dedicate this post to all those friends who have told me over and over that I am a selfish monster mom, if not for you adulation I would not churn out this post in 10 minutes.

Quest

Knowing what wants from life is a mission in itself. I think our efforts at every point in life be it through journal wiring, mulling, quitting a job, taking up a hobby, breaking off a relationship, entering into debates with our loved ones, becoming  a rebel to the family- essentially they are all different paths we choose to understand what we want from life. My hubby makes this an existential crisis altogether. He goes into what is the purpose of life- mode once in a while. And this phase comes in when I challenge the philosophical being in him. And then when I ask him why don't you pursue this line of thought he says he has to earn a living so he would rather let this thought rest. Though this response irks me (because it has a subtle hint that I have the luxury to ponder while he toils), I know it is his defense because given an atmosphere to write and not do anything I see my hubby frantically pacing like a guinea pig. The poor soul hardly knows what to do when he is free. 

That brings me back to where I began do we actually know what we want from life. If not is it not adventurous to embrace every new turn on this untraveled road with the enthusiasm of a roadie? That is what keeps me motivated each day. Some ask me why did you struggle to complete a PhD and now you bake and cook. I wish I could tell them I don't mind taking new roads in this process of self discovery. The journey is more important than the roads or the destination. But how do I explain this to people who are fixated on reaching the destination and never exploring again?

Living with Carpal tunnel Syndrome- Part 1

When I was afflicted with Carpal tunnel syndrome, the first thing I did was google for forums and write ups from people who suffered from this syndrome. I was surprised to find none, which is not surprising considering the pain one goes through. Typing while one suffers is not something one would normally do ( I am not normal) and once healed maybe people are relieved to get back to life, they don't want to relive their days of misery. But many of my dear ones asked me if I could write about this phase, so that it would help people who don't understand what Carpal tunnel syndrome is and perhaps also highlight the treatments and help one could get while suffering from this condition. 
This series in parts will highlight my experiences living with carpal tunnel syndrome- They have been composed over 7 months with the help from my hubby because I cannot type with these hands anymore.



          Sometimes I wonder what’s worse. Living with a disability forever or living with a condition that will disappear soon ( like in a year and half). I have been living with Carpal tunnel syndrome ever since I got pregnant. Carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS) is a median entrapment neuropathy that causes paresthesia, pain, numbness, and other symptoms in the distribution of the median nerve due to its compression at the wrist in the carpal tunnel ( source- Wikipedia). In layman's term I have numbness in my palms, swelling and pain in my shoulder, neck and wrists.Frankly, I wish I never knew this syndrome existed because I was managing fine hoping the numbness and pain in my arms would disappear some day- I thought I had hurt my hand badly and it was some temporary  nerve problem. But after the diagnosis and the verdict from the Ortho ( which included a nerve conduction study where they pass electric current through your palms) that this would last throughout my pregnancy and perhaps three months after the baby is born I began hating myself for having ever met a doctor for this situation.

I did not give up my hopes, I soon met a few Ayurveda doctors but they all told me I could not take any oral medication in pregnancy and so all I could do was reduce working with my hands as in I should pamper myself by refusing to cook, clean, work and take complete rest. My mom perhaps having never encountered such a condition in her 25 years of  nursing career, did not realize the magnitude of my situation, and kept consoling me saying things would be fine ( she has always been a fighter so she could not let her daughter give up). I wondered how I would have coped with this had I been fully employed, would my employers ask me to take leave for a year or would I go on leave without pay? ( Nah ! they would perhaps fire me). Would I need to undergo series of  examinations from specialists to certify me an authentic Carpal tunnel patient? I frankly don't have answers to these questions but from the forums I have been a part of ( Yes there are forums for pregnant women suffering from Carpal tunnel syndrome) I understand there are many women around the world suffering from the same and still willingly they choose motherhood the second and third time.

Luckily I was not employed. But I was at the verge of completing my thesis. My supervisor was sympathetic to my condition but like an injured player forced to take a back seat and watch his team mates score on field, I had to watch my peers and colleagues submit and defend their thesis in this period. Did it upset me? Yes at times it did especially when people refused to believe or comprehend my suffering. Especially when they asked why do you get rare diseases? Why is it you always? As if I had planned on getting Carpal tunnel and skipping work. Seriously many did ask me these questions. 

A normal day for me starts with me pacifying myself that I am not disabled, neither is this a terminal illness, I will see light at the end of this tunnel some day. But the very next minute, I end up in despair when my hands go numb holding my tea cup. Tears stain my face when I realize I cannot move my toothbrush because my hand’s gone numb again. And it embarrasses me that I don’t take proper showers anymore because I can’t soap or towel myself without taking breaks or pauses. I cried last month when I traveled by public bus, I had no place to hold onto, and people who saw me with my sling conveniently ignored me, I lost confidence to travel all alone.

Carpal tunnel syndrome has attacked me at the most opportune moment, I conceived quite unexpectedly and I had a thesis pending all set to be submitted in 6 months. But today I struggle to edit it. I wish I could explain my helplessness to people who wonder what’s taking me so long. At times I become so frustrated wondering if people will fail understanding my pain and that’s when I wrote some pregnant thoughts - http://catharasisofaresearchscholar.blogspot.in/2014/02/some-pregnant-thoughts.html. I was mad at everyone who kept pestering me to have a kid, though deep within I knew they had no inkling that I would get Carpal tunnel syndrome.

Carpal tunnel syndrome has stolen away every pleasure of my life. Baking a cake seems a distant dream, reading a book a tedious task and sleeping an impossible feat. I have become a chronic insomniac (which is why I am typing this at 2 am on a Thursday morning). I thought I should put my time to better use than toss and turn in bed with numb hands. So aren't they numb now? Oh yes they are… but I have nothing else to do, so I torture them even more.

Would I have loved some support from dear ones? YES, but unfortunately crisis makes you realize who your true friends are. All my friends except 2 or 3 have assured me prayers. Now though I don’t undermine prayers they right now can’t type, cook, fold, clean and help me sleep so frankly they are of no help to me. I don’t intend being blasphemous but Carpal tunnel syndrome  has made me quite bitter and cynical. It has made me rethink on relationships, family, friendships, love and even parenthood. Unlike many adversities I have been through ( mostly emotional), this one has been hard on me. Because I had limited access to phone, mails and rendezvous, I soon realized the friendships that I boasted about were so feeble, to have withered away when I could not stay in touch ( and trust me everyone knew what I went through, I made sure everyone knew about it, I thought I could use the support). Sometimes life can be cruelly hilarious, I attribute my experiences with CTS to this phase.

I cannot stop admiring people using their hands to work, I can gaze at them for hours, watch them chop, clean, use their hands as if it was quite normal ( I keep staring at my maid when she sweeps and washes vessels, yep I am envious of her). I realize how many people in this world would feel the same like me. We often take our hands so much for granted. I can see my misery has not built me strong but made me bitter, I end up hurting others when I am in pain, though frankly it’s unintentional. At times all I want is physical help or silence, not some optimistic crap. It hurts me as I type this and all I want is to sleep peacefully for a night without numb hands. I don’t need to be reminded it will all be fine. It has been really difficult and I have been really brave ( Yep at times one needs to pat oneself). People tell me parenting is painful, but I thought they meant the child birth process but that is not true, there's more pain to this process than child birth alone.

Don’t ask me why I was inflicted with this, there are many out there just like me. Don’t boast about how you finished your thesis before me, don’t ask me why I got pregnant or why I get into rarest of rare situations. Don’t appreciate my spirits; I am too tired to register half your nonsense.  I may not be terminally ill, but I am in pain 24 hrs and I am sorry if I am not tolerant to your worries at the moment. It's been 7 months this way, some days are fine, some days are really bad. And that's how it feels living with Carpal tunnel syndrome. List of things you can't do outnumber the list of things you can do. I know this does not help, but next time you worry about the sky falling, ask yourself, if you have two hands to hold onto those falling pieces :)

                                         ( to be continued..... about treatments, miraculous healing and back to suffering)

Cat chronicles- Don Mathaikunju Geevarghese Samuel

Cats were never my favourite animals. But as I said in the previous post on ‘Cat Chronicles’, 5 years at IIT and my marriage to WHO made me love cats like never before. Candy’s (there’s been a post on her before) death made WHO stubborn and grumpy whenever the topic of getting a cat came up. But I did not wanted to give up. I thought if Candy died it meant we had a lesson to learn and maybe an irresistible kitten was waiting around the corner to join our family. And finally it all happened - One fine morning, when I was leaving from Chennai to Bangalore for the weekend. I came across a pet adoption blog and casually mailed the blogger with my details asking if she had a kitten to adopt.  I got a call in three hours, before I boarded the bus to Bangalore. I was told a cat was rescued and was at a home for the past few weeks. They described the kitten as an adorable little angel except for that he was possessive and drove their own house kitten away.  I spoke to WHO immediately and he was in no mood for a new cat. His points were valid- we would have to leave the kitten in the bathroom or balcony, when WHO was at office and he worked too late. But with my cousin brother’s entry into our family I thought I still had some chance of convincing WHO  and I suggested maybe for three months they could take care of the kitten together because my cousin worked night shifts and WHO would be back by night.

However, that was not the crux of the problem.  Men can be possessive, especially when they don’t learn to share their space with others in the early years of marriage. We had no kids and WHO thought getting a kitten was some trial of mine to check out if he was ready to be a parent (a message he got after watching Marley and Me). He would soon be fighting on this with me weeks later though I was oblivious about this at that moment.

And that’s how Don joined us on WHO’s 30^th birthday. We named him Don, after a day with him convinced us of his menacing nature. He was the naughtiest kitten I had ever seen. He would hide behind doors and pounce on you, he would fetch ball, apple, anklet, hair clip and loved football. He would scratch and bite sneaking under our blanket just to feel high and sometimes he gave you that weird look- the one we later realize was a precursor to his dangerous games. We named him Don Mathaikunju Geevarghese Samuel- the last two being WHO’s middle and surname but Don is the only name he responds to (and these days gundu which means ‘fatso’)

We have heard a lot of ifs and buts from people about cats. Cats are selfish, Cats are dirty, Cats are solitary and this is the best one – Cats can put an evil eye if you eat in front of them. The list is endless. Some of these came from relatives, some from friends and most from parents. I am surprised that many of these people had never come to be at a meters distance from any animal in their life but are always full of hearsay. Against all jibes and comments we made sure that Don stayed put in our house. Through him we learned new things about cats and also saw a lot of myths being broken. So with these posts we will try to break all myths associated with cats, with Don as a reference, one myth at a time.

Myth#1 - Cats are outdoor animals

Well, so are human beings. We were never meant to be inside. Even in the modern setting we spent most of our time outside; only difference being we move from one- inside to the other. But at the end of the day we all love to come home to roost. Given a choice cats love to be indoors. The only problems being once inside they get branded as thieves. So it was always convenient to label them as outdoor animals lest you have to setup a state of the art anti-theft system. Alternatively let’s not forget the real thieves for whom the anti-theft systems were setup in the first place; not for cats I am sure.    

Cats love to be indoors, unless they have to go look for food and water and also for doing the same things in the reverse order.  Once in a while they also like to sharpen their tools or sit on a branch of a tree and just watch the world go by. Logically, I think it’s a chore for cats to be outside because they have to always look out for predators, as they search for food. From a human perspective it would sound something like this – you are in the middle of an urban warfare, always looking out for snipers, as you move about in the neighborhood looking for milk and bread. If all their needs are met then cats will be more than happy to sit on your couch and watch Animal Planet or Nigella cook a delicious soufflé. And that’s exactly what Don does. His day starts with a sardine or a bowl of milk, which is provided to him in the balcony.  If he were to graciously finish his breakfast in one go or at one place and not insist on moving around with the dismembered fish, like how his wild cousins do, we would have let him have his fish indoors too. Once his hunger is satiated, he’s restless to come inside. And he’s so twitchy to get inside as if someone’s after his life. And that’s why I say cats like to be indoors too. At this moment, when his basic needs are met, given a choice between the green pastures outside and the four walls inside, Don would choose the latter. Once inside he gets down to his cat business. And those are proceedings which will break the next set of myths and I’ll detail them in the next post.  Once all is said and done, he’s ready for the longest chore of the day – to sleep. And even a cat knows that it’s best to sleep on the couch and not on the side of the road ( as you can see in the pic below , he loves the comfort of the washing machine too ).

 And then there's a lot more we have learned from Don on the feline nature- stay tuned for more on cats and their behaviour through the eyes of 'Don'.

Misanthrope

I think negative emotions are more passionate than positive ones, with age and time it intensifies like old wine. I have never heard revenge and anger wane but I have seen love dissipating. That's exactly why we see people in love separate with no qualms, the hatred defeats the love. And it's to counter these emotions  that religion was constituted. To give people hope ( false hope) - of an unconditional love, eternity that they would gain for  this unconditional love. And it's amazing how it works with the weak. The weak always believe their situations will change, while the strong are too busy to even worry about eternity. I wish I never got these weird epiphanies- it's making me a misanthrope :) I love that word. If a man is a sum total of his experiences then I am a bad case. I have been blessed with a rare combination or adversities and I am not saying this to be depressed, I have not been very lucky with the mundane- the things people take for granted and so I am a negative emotion binge eater- which obviously makes me look philosophical and intellectual but also makes me a poor companion. I have zero tolerance for frivolity and no wonder I have no friends. I was grateful till now for having a life partner and then I realized why we gel together- a misanthrope can only survive with another one ( or at least someone who identifies the misanthrope as one). Why do you think Watson understood Sherlock :)

Found this beautiful quote that sums these thoughts

“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.” 
― Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper

Sometimes we laugh at people for being loners or eccentrics, I assure you they are the best story tellers. 

For the sake of sanity, please don't send me condolences and comforting messages like 'will pray for you', 'god is merciful' and  ' be cheerful'- chances are that I might even contemplate killing you. I am not a fan of morals and humanity.

I cook with my hands- Sorry if that offends you

Last week I received a very unusual message on FB. I am deeply upset with myself for allowing myself to be upset by such incidents but it so happens that I am volatile ( even prior to my pregnancy). This message was from a so called distant relative of my dad residing in Italy. And it read 

Dear Teena,

Please take this message in the right sense, consider it like an advice from an elder brother ( building up tension). I saw some snaps on your food blog ( ok now he is getting to the point) and I see that you use bare hands to cook. This is unhygienic and will send wrong message to the world ( What the Fu###k ? ). I was supposed to show this link to some of my Italian friends and I was worried about what they would think? As it is they think we Indians are unhygienic ( I am bursting, seriously I am). So please use gloves henceforth.

love 

Mr X

I was appalled at what I was reading, and I decided to share it with my hubby after all he is the calm one among us. He read it patiently and asked in quite unparliamentary words ( something I will translate parliamentarily here) Wasn't this guy born here and did his mom not cook using her hands? It's amazing he survived with all the unhygienic background.And then began my battle of mails with this fellow where I had to shatter his colonized mind off the burden to appease his colonizer friends. Well all I wrote was this

Dear Mr X.

I hope you realize India got freedom in 1947 and we ate with hands before 1947 and we still do. In fact eating with hands requires us to wash it before and after unlike man of you friends who might forget to do so because they don't eat with hands. And in fact I have been to Italy and have seen Italians eat Pizzas, Panini and many other stuff ( Like pop corn, MC Donald hamburger, french fries) using hands. In fact I spent an afternoon watching them toss pizza dough with bare beefy hands. And guess what in Venice, Milan, Florence and Perugia, they used hands to make pizza dough. Now I don't know about Rome and since you are there, you should tell me how to knead the pizza dough wearing gloves. Morevoer I am checking cookery videos and I see Jamie Oliver, Anthony Bourdain, Gordon Ramsay and Nigella Lawson using bare hands I am sure they are outcasts and disgrace to your Italian friends. 

And if your friends think we are unhygienic please tell them despite eating with dirty bare hands, and cooking with the same, we could not even kill 1/10th of our population, I wish we could that could be the best population control strategy.

Please find out if Sonia Gandhi uses here hands to eat, I am sure if she does that should upset Italy even more.

love

Teena

This mail was met with an absurd  reply which made me want to hire a contract killer to kill this guy..

Dear Teena,

You treat me like an enemy. Your dad and my dad were second cousins and you wrote to me with such arrogance ( oh god, why can't this guy stick to the point). I did not want my friends to misunderstand you. (to hell with your friends). I am ashamed at the way you argued ( yep, coz you seem to be the loser). I will never advice you hereafter ( good for you and I am blocking you dear brother).

Mr X

I finally blocked this guy off FB. I am surprised I get to meet such people and that they exist. Shallow people who wag their tails to appease the foreigners and who belittle their own culture and upbringing for this. Just because you stay a couple of years abroad does not mean you get to look down on your own people Mr Smarty pants and  you are free to wear gloves to eat your idlis and dosas ( after all they are coated with germs) . May you live ten years more than me and be a burden to mother earth. 

Seriously, why is it so cool when a foreigner eats with his fingers and why is it messy when we lick our hands dripping of curd rice. We use chopsticks, fork and knife and eat every cuisine they way it's meant to be so why is using hands a disgrace? And then you tell me crap like get close to nature?

I know this is an absurd fight but coming from an Indian born here and residing in Italy after the first half of his life I find this hypocritical. I am not ethnocentric but I will not allow myself to be judged and moulded for someone else that's just not me. ( After going through my blog all he had to say was wear gloves ??? )

This post is not meant to offend any other culture but I don't think imitating another culture, another accent, another way of life to be accepted by someone else is cool. It just shows how uncomfortable you are with yourself and how low your self esteem is.

Some pregnant thoughts

People, who tell you pregnancy is all about the glow on your face and excitement about that miraculous life growing within you, are definitely men or sadist women, who are lying or perhaps even a woman in denial or playing a joke at you. Despite years of debates and discussion with my spouse, surviving societal expectations and pressures, things definitely don't seem rosy and romantic to me, now that I am pregnant. There are times you feel lonely and then you realize there is someone within you (like that someone is right now kicking me from within). But then you wonder will this mere realization suffice? or am I subjecting myself to the romantic notions of pregnancy my subconscious has gathered from books, movies and wisdom of elders. I guess some of us fall in love with the notion of motherhood that we believe it's gonna be a romantic phase. When you visualize yourself in a pink checkered frilly frock (with those rose buds and bow ties) with a bowl of strawberry and a bulging tummy it appears cute in your  photo shopped mind. This post has been in the draft mode for 6 long months. I have never found it so hard to verbalize something before.

Frankly I wanted all that glow and when I looked devastating I was told it's a boy by many (these 'many' are like oracles in demeanor but as competitive as stock brokers when it comes to speculating the gender of the baby), as if it would pacify my aching heart. During our daily morning tea time conversation I asked my hubby my greatest fear- " Are we ready?" " Are we ready to accept we will never expect anything in return for all these aches and pain I go through?" "Will I be able to resist myself when a rebellious teenager asks me someday why I gave birth to him/her?" Long time ago a couple visiting us were shocked that we harbored such thoughts even before conceiving a baby and they told me that people don't think so much. That's exactly my problem, that we don't think at all and hence that teenager someday is right to ask why the hell he/she was made in the first place. I have asked my parents too, in my teenage rage, and so if what goes around come back like a boomerang, I am expecting the same.

I also get pissed off when people tell me 'enjoy!!! it's the best phase of life'. I don't understand what they mean. I don't think peeing 20 times a day or sneezing and finding yourself leaking is exciting. Neither do I think struggling with a numb hand (Carpal tunnel syndrome- and now it's infected both hands) or bee hive kind of rashes all over our body (please google - PUPPP) is  exciting. I cannot whip, or fold, type, or lift an object with my right hand (and now the left hand too) so imagine me typing this post :) I don't expect graces from heaven for going through this phase it so happened and I am learning to cope with it. So next time you see that stupid Johnson's ad and feel all teary remind yourself it's a hoax. Chances are that you will throw stuff at your hubby in pregnancy rage rather than sit and knit purple booties :) and that's normal. You won't say gaining weight brought happiness, you would sigh at the swollen feet that does not fit into your pumps (I don't have such issues but have friends who suffer from swollen feet). You are going to hate yourself on those sleepless nights trying to restrict yourself sleeping to the left while your partner tosses and turns and even  lies on his tummy.Bliss!!! Let me tell you it's not easy. You definitely need a lot of contemplation before you decide to get pregnant and family and societal pressures should be the least of your reasons to conceive. Because if you are unprepared two souls bear the brunt the most- the hubby and the baby and that's just unfair.

I don't mean I regret this. I just hate people telling me to enjoy this. Despite all odds I have been surviving this all alone, I did not employ a helper. I still manage everything home with the help of my supportive hubby, I am still editing my thesis. Pregnancy has made me love and respect my man even more. Unlike many lazy men I see around me, he wakes up early enough to help me with chores around. He is away mostly compared to others who get back home by 6 and relax, and yet he chooses to support me in everything I do at home from cleaning, massaging, washing to cooking.  He makes me realize we are in this together and had he the option he would share the numbness, the itching and the labour pain. And that's love.... and that's why I believe it's worth to bring this kid into a world where he/she can see mutual respect, love and care right from home. But that does not lessen the aches and pains and mood swings and nausea and weakness.... it does not mean we should glorify them and wear them as jewels. It need not be recounted 100 times in future to tame our kids- because we did choose this on our own for whatever reasons we have.

Each experience is unique so I am all ears to mothers who have pleasant stories to share but I just want to remind them, that its just not the same for all, we do experience joy with those occasional  kicks and flutters but we hardly have any control over our emotions ranging from anger to depression. I think comparing one's pregnancy to somebody else's is the biggest sin ever, trust me pregnancy can get competitive too, I see women compare baby weight, length, circumference and what not? Personally I would stay away from such competitions.

Something that has soothed me throughout is maintaining a baby journal where I record my thoughts, my daily mood fluctuations and ailments. It helps one bond with one's baby and would make the best personalized gift you can give your kid some day. Many friends who heard this laughed at me. They believe nothing beats money and investment. But I disagree. Despite the numbness, I never quit the journal, and I even jot down my inhibitions about being a parent. And frankly I love being cathartic that gives me sanity.

The biggest lesson I learned from all this is that there would be a load of useless people who would ask you why you don't have kids but you won't find a single soul when you are at it. I don't remember a single person from this clout calling me up and asking me about my health but they were the most determined of souls to convince me on the bliss of motherhood. So if you want to take this bridge it's a long solitary journey and it's not the last phase that hurts- the whole thing hurts in bits and pieces. So next time someone asks me when I am gonna have the second one- I am gonna shove some Mississippi pie down their @###