by Zarreen Khan
My husband wants me to move to the South Pole while there are other husbands like Milind-Shashi who take their pregnant wives on a ‘babymoon’ to Paris.
What the hell is a babymoon?
Ramit
The Sachdevs have gone to Paris on a ‘babymoon’. What the hell is a babymoon? Anyway, they should have taken Mona with them. Would have given me a few days to thaw. It’s freezing in here.
Our only weekend alone in weeks, and we’re sleeping in separate rooms.
Mona
I cannot believe how normal I’m feeling! When Mom told me I’ll feel much better after the first trimester I hadn’t believed her. But look at me now!
I even went for a walk and found Mrs Kapoor and Asha in the park.
‘Achha, good news hai?’ she said, eyeing my bulge.
Then she enquired after my stylish neighbour and I told her Laila was expecting too. I swear to God she looked jealous. Mr Kapoor may be in for some action!
When I got home, I switched on my laptop and scrolled through Facebook and imagined how I would announce the arrival of our baby. Maybe with a picture of me in the hospital with a bundle in my arms. It gave me goosebumps.
Then I thought, now that Laila Sachdev and I are friends, kind of, I should add her on Facebook. But I couldn’t find her. Which was strange. Surely someone as stylish as Laila Sachdev had a Facebook account?
So I looked for her on LinkedIn. No trace.
So I searched for ‘Sparq cosmetics + Laila’.
And there it was. Laila Haider, Marketing Head, Sparq Cosmetics.
Oh. Laila Haider. I found her on Facebook too. She had a stunning profile picture of herself on a cruise ship with the sunset in the background. And here Mom would never let me take a picture against the sunset as it brings bad luck as per Qayamat se Qayamat tak the movie. That’s where my mom gets her superstition from!
Anyway, looks like Laila Haider hasn’t changed her maiden name.
And I’m a bloody Deol!
Ramit
What on earth is she sulking about now?
Week 17
Pregnant women often have to deal with unwanted belly touching
Ramit
I have to fetch my sister-in-law from the station. Does no one use Uber any more?
It’s Shania’s turn to babysit my wife and I can imagine the destruction she’ll leave behind.
Mona wanted to come with, but she was taking too long with her shower.
Mona
I was exhausted just holding the hand shower.
I’ve got myself a little plastic chair to sit on while washing my knees.
I also go through the daily ritual of discovering new things on my body everyday. The darkening line in the middle of my stomach. Bra marks and panty lines thanks to my expanding girth. The little red rash which I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise but I hope now it isn’t a reason to panic. Stretch marks.
And then after that exhausting shower, I reached out for the various vitamin E oils and creams I’m supposed to apply. Mummy sent me a carton full of them from Amritsar. Mom immediately got competitive and sent me some natural oils from her friend’s farm in Dehradun.
Obviously, both mums also gave full-on instructions on applying the smelly oils on my stomach, thighs, hips, butt, behind her knees, breasts and ‘even the, you know, nipple area,’ Ramit’s Mummy had said in hushed tones. Good God! There have to be some boundaries, please!
And as I apply the oil in circular motions on my butt, as instructed, I break into – ‘Main Jhandu balm hui Darling tere liye.’
Ramit
Mona has been smelling like a parantha nowadays, so for once, I’m thankful for my sister-in-law. She turned up with some cocoa butter thing to replace Mona’s disgusting oils.
She also did a great job pretending to gag and puke before handing it over.
Mona
I must admit it is better-smelling but … you know when it gets hot, and it gets hot a lot, I feel like the butter is melting and trickling down my back and my cleavage! It’s yuck! Better-smelling yuck, but yuck indeed.
Ramit
Shania calls me at 8.00 p.m., asking to be picked up from some ashram in Kapashera. I was on my way back with two of my associates after a meeting.
After I picked her up, Vinay and Karanveer decided they didn’t want to be dropped off at their drop-off points. Said they would just call a cab to my place and make things easier.
There was non-stop conversation in the car with Shania giggling and them turning pink with pleasure at all the attention. She was telling them all about ashram life and they mentioned quitting their ‘dull’ work to pursue that spiritual stuff. Yes, they said that in front of me, their boss. I made a mental note to mention this during their appraisals.
Then Shania asked them to stay for dinner.
Mona
My sister walked in wearing her see-through black chiffon sari and tube-top blouse, followed by two puppy-faced boys from Ramit’s office. And one of them I’m sure is engaged. Doesn’t she know I’m too pregnant to play hostess?
Ramit rolled his eyes at Shania and washed his hands off any blame for the unexpected guests. Shania was raiding Ramit’s bar and ordering Lakshmibai to make extra rotis. I wondered about ordering something from Kadhai Mirch Ki, our local dhaba, but what did it matter? These boys were so taken by her, I could’ve fed them grass from our garden.
I’m asking Mom to call Shania back. If she’s such a yogi, she should be meditating. All she does is check herself out in her saris before galloping off to ashram meetings and flirting with unsuspecting men.
At ten, when we finally opened the door to say goodbye to the boys, we found Laila Sachdev – sorry, Haider – standing at the door in a lovely pink dress, not looking pregnant at all.
It was the boys’ lucky evening.
Week 18
Not all the weight you’re gaining is your baby. Your breasts may be growing bigger and your blood volume is still increasing
Mona
Shania accompanied me to Dr Khan’s clinic since Ramit had some investor meeting. We were in the waiting room when Shania pulled down her sunglasses to ogle at all the pregnant women.
‘They’re bloody stylish, this lot!’ she whispered to me. ‘Why can’t you be like them?’
‘For starters, they’re a whole lot thinner.’ I ran through a series of expletives in my head, but answered calmly. I was the dignified older sister, after all.
They made me stand on the weighing machine and Shania gasped. I made a mental note to book her on the earliest train back to Doon.
‘Eight kgs up!’ the assistant said, making a note.
I wanted to tell her that each of my breasts probably weighed four kgs. Plus, I’m supposed to have a lot more blood in my body now. It’s not all fat!
Ramit
Cousin Swaroop landed in Delhi. Received a WhatsApp message on the group saying he wanted to meet all the bheed tomorrow night. Just as I was typing out a message about it being too short a notice and Mona and I would be busy, Mona promptly responded with a ‘looking forward’ text and went on to actively suggest places we could meet at.
She’s that desperate for food.
Mona
I mean, why not. Everyone tells me I should eat guilt-free!
Except Dr Mehak, who said I have exceeded my weight-gain quota. But my next appointment is after four weeks and I’m going to be more regular with my walks and lose some of that water retention by then.
Ramit
So we went to this place which serves thaalis and typically Mona and I would share one. But today she wolfed down not one or two but five of their lachha paranthas and was the last one to finish eating.
And people were egging her on!
‘Achhe se kha, Mona. Yahi toh time hai.’
I wanted to say that there were twenty weeks more to go, but Mona looked so happy with the bheed for a change. I couldn’t ruin it.
I’m just glad it was fixed-price
thaali.
Mona
Such great food! What a wonderful evening! I say as much to Ramit.
Ramit
Lovely evening with the bheed? Crazy pregnant woman…
Mona
Can you believe that? Laila Sachdev came over to say hello and ask how I was doing and then asked me if I had any of the caramel cake left over from when Mom was here. And when I laughed and said obviously not, she asked me if I could make her some or get her the recipe. Just look at her! Shamelessly asking me for food!
Says she’s craving it.
Laila and her cravings! All attention-seeking behaviour, if you ask me. There’s no such thing as cravings!
Ramit
Big fight. I suggested we ask Mona’s mom to send us some caramel cake with Rani next week to pass on to Laila. She is pregnant, after all. But Mona burst into a string of expletives about how I’m so naïve I can’t see through skinny Laila Sachdev’s drama.
Mona
I found Shania curled up on the couch with Laila Sachdev. They’re bonding big time. Laila is perpetually in our living room or Shania is perpetually there.
And listen to Shania’s audacity! She was telling Laila, ‘I’ve spoken to Mom. She’ll send you the caramel cake next week, Laila.’
This Laila has the world wrapped around her little finger! She’s just like my sister!
Ramit
Shania called me and asked to be picked up from some store in Greater Kailash. I was worried because Vinay and Karanveer were with me again. They stuck their head out of the car window as I went into the store and it was exactly like travelling with pet dogs.
Shania had the sales attendant tailing her, all red-faced and delighted to be spoken to. She had also charmed him into giving her a discount.
‘Thank you,’ she batted her lashes at the poor man. ‘What did you say your name was?’
‘Vik … Vik …’ We never found out whether he was Vikram or Vikas or what.
Back in the car, she sent off my highly qualified premier institute MBA graduates scrambling over each other to fetch her a packet of cigarettes. I told her it was unbecoming of her ashram life, to which she gave me a pitiful look and said, ‘Oh jeejs, how conservative of you! We at the ashram are a liberal lot, you know. Loosen up!’
Made me feel ancient and narrow-minded. From now on, I’m only minding my own business.
Mona
Shania is wearing this bright orange bikini blouse with her green chiffon sari, and going partying with some ‘ashram’ friends. Who is buying her these things? Ramit has nothing to say to her. He just shrugs and says, ‘She’s an adult, Mona. We can’t be so conservative about her life choices. Loosen up!’
Loosen up? My sister has to get back to Doon at the earliest.
Week 19
The scan around the 18–20th week shows you an almost fully formed baby
Ramit
We went back to Dr Ram Rathore’s ultrasound room. Still not completely comfortable with his hand on her stomach.
‘There you go. That’s your baby. I’ll now take you through all the measurements we’ll be recording for this level-two scan.’
There was a face, a nose, somewhat creepy eye sockets, hands that flipped right from the head to below the bum in seconds, a really big foot, stomach and kidneys and bladder and lungs and heart and…
I think it’s a boy.
Mona
So tiny! Minus the big foot.
But so pretty. Minus the eye sockets. Those were scary. Alien-like.
So delicate! Except the way it kept flipping.
It’s a boy. It’s definitely a boy. I wish there was some way I could ask.
Ramit
I asked. Told the doc I could see the … er, you know.
That was when he laughed and said it was just the umbilical cord and not the penis.
Mona
Obviously our man’s ears turned red at the P-word.
Ramit
Minus that bit, it was quite a morning. Wish we could see the baby every week.
Mona
Ramit got so excited by the ultrasound he took the day off and we went to the mall for lunch.
He insisted Dr Ram Rathore was trying to cover up for not being discreet about the body part and that it’s actually a boy. I hope he’s right; our daughter will never find shoes given the size of that foot we saw today.
Anyway, all was well till I stepped out of the mall and suddenly there were children pouring out of every corner. It’s a weekday and there are still so many kids around.
And when we were at Big Chill, one poor mother was holding her baby on one hip and rocking him, and eating her food standing up. That’s when the realization hit me. I’ll never get to eat in peace again.
Ramit
For Mona, everything comes down to eating.
I decided to check my email and tune her out.
Mona
Ramit had nothing to say to me, as always, when I shared my feelings with him, so I turned back to the scene at the mall.
I watched mothers chase their children from one corner to another, bribe them with iPads, mobile phones. I saw mothers sighing loudly as their child threw a tantrum in the middle of the shop. I saw an embarrassed mother quickly stacking the clothes her child had pulled off the rack. I saw one woman, clearly in pain as her child pulled her hair while she tried to make a payment at the counter. What is with kids nowadays!
It’s so disturbing, I decided to make a list of the things my child would definitely NOT do!
First, no tantrums. My child will be calm and I’ll be calm, and she or he will never even interact with kids who throw tantrums.
I’m not going to coochie-coo with my kid either. No funny baby noises. How do they expect children to pick up a real language if they keep talking gibberish to them!
I’ll just calmly talk to my baby and establish some sort of non-verbal code with it for when it’s hungry. I’m pretty sure that’s possible. I’ve read books on how one can decipher what each type of cry stands for. Mothers and babies are supposed to have that type of bond, you know.
I will not take my child to the movies till it learns to sit straight in the seat without kicking the saamne wali seat out of excitement. I hate that! Otherwise I’ll just leave him/her behind with the nanny. Because of course, we’ll have a nanny. A reliable, good nanny. Not a maid.
I will not carry my child everywhere. And I’ll have the pram. Why do these parents pull a wailing child out of the pram and rock them and carry them around the mall? They’re spoiling them. They just need to train their kid from the start.
I will also not have a snotty child. He will learn to wipe his own nose just as soon as his toilet training is done, which will be when he’s four months old. They say you should toilet train your baby the moment they starts sitting.
My child will be multilingual and have a polished accent. They say babies can pick up multiple languages very early on. I’ll just buy those French- and Spanish-teaching CDs and that should be enough. ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’ in French.
My child will not mispronounce. It’s not cute! I’m very particular about language, you see.
My child will be super-cheerful and not hide behind me in front of strangers. I don’t want my baby to become clingy.
And I won’t be cleaning up all the time after my child is done playing. We Indians pamper our children too much. They don’t do this abroad. I’ve never seen it in the movies.
And my kid will never cry on flights. Neither Ramit nor I have any issues with flying so why should our kid?
Ramit
I don’t know what Mona is writing down in her little notepad but she suddenly turns to me and says, ‘Next time you fly, I want you to pick up as many air sickness bags from the flight as you can.’
Mona
That should sort it out. A puke bag in the car, one in my purse, one in the baby bag, one in each room of the house. No messes that way. It’s sensible to start collecting these thing
s early, no?
And diapers. I will always have tons of disposable diapers.
I wonder how much space they take? Can’t be too much. I mean, sometimes I carry two Whisper Ultras in my bag, and that’s fine. We won’t need more than two diapers, right? All these companies advertise all-night-dry diapers, so they should last twelve hours, right?
By way of conversation, I discuss my aspirations for my child with my mom over the phone. She guffaws like she has never guffawed before. Between fits of laughter, she says, ‘If it were only that easy, Mona.’ Then she tells me they used cloth nappies for us, so that’s what I’ll need. Not diapers promising twelve-hour protection.
‘And no baby language? Do you know you couldn’t say doggy till you were five? You would say dojjie. And you couldn’t pronounce ‘th’. You said ‘dh’. So you would walk around saying ‘dhat dojjie is dhere, dhat dhojjie does dhat.’ It was so cute! It’s so cute when kids mispronounce stuff! Why would you not want that in your child?’
Well, dojjie does sound cute.
Week 20
By now, you might feel the baby moving, though the senstation is so slight, it can be written off as gas
Mona
Ran into Laila Sachdev sporting her baby belly and wearing these stylish yoga pants and a ganji top. She announced she was off to yoga. Yoga! I asked her if it’s safe and she said, of course. It’s prenatal yoga, it’s amazing, had I not heard of it? I laughed a little too loudly to cover up and said, of course I knew, and I’d thought she meant regular yoga and that wouldn’t be safe, would it? To which she studied me curiously for a moment and asked if I’d like to join. Said there’s some lady who holds classes just around the corner and it would be so nice to do something together. Next thing you know she’ll ask us to sign up for antenatal classes together! I told her I’ll give it a think and that I’m pretty active with my walks. She doesn’t need to know it’s only once a fortnight.
Then she asked me how everything was coming along.
I told her all about my scan and she said she had had it done yesterday too. Show off!
But then she asked if the baby has been kicking. Hers apparently has.
Now I know she’s just an exaggerator. How can she, a good four weeks behind me, feel the kicks when I can’t!