by Zarreen Khan
Ramit
Mona is even more irritated than usual about Mummy being in town.
Told her to concentrate on the lovely brunch she can look forward to.
Wrong thing to say, apparently. Yes, have been sent to sleep in Mummy’s room tonight.
Mona
I wore my maternity pants and my best maternity top and wore make-up and earrings, and, I swear, it looked like I was going on a date, but still, Laila Haider managed to outshine me in her yellow chiffon dress, her golden headband and her pregnancy glow. I probably looked like an old-fashioned shoe compared to her.
She met me very warmly at the restaurant and we got lots of amused looks by onlookers as we tried to hug each other despite our massive bellies. I squeezed into my chair and took 120 seconds to adjust my butt, while Laila glided in like she was right out of some finishing school.
We ordered from the buffet menu; thankfully Laila did not order wine, and I patted some loose hair into my bun as she stroked her silky brown hair.
‘I’m so glad you could make it,’ she said cheerfully.
‘Why aren’t you at work?’ I asked her pointedly.
‘Oh I just finished my last leg of travel so I thought I’d take a couple of days off,’ she sing-songed. ‘They don’t allow you to travel after the twenty-eighth week on most domestic flights and Shashi is quite particular about us being careful, so I thought I’d finish it all off by the sixth month itself. Shimauli can easily issue me a letter that I’m fit to travel for another month or so, but Shashi, well no point arguing. Anyway, how are you keeping?’
I could have told her about the terrible nerve pain in my butt that makes me feel like I’m sitting on a hedgehog, but decide we were not ‘close’ enough.
‘I’m doing totally fine,’ I lied, taking a deep breath so that she wouldn’t notice my breathlessness.
‘That’s great. I saw you’ve already got your bags ready. Exciting, isn’t it, to be in the final leg?’
I don’t know what she meant by exciting. I was scared and uncomfortable, but that was it. I nodded nonetheless.
‘How is Shania? Will she be coming down anytime soon?’
I wanted to tell her that she would perhaps know that better than me since she is the sister Shania never had, as per my very own mother, but I made some vague comments and switched to even more random conversation about her job and Shania’s fashion course. Our food arrived shortly and I was pleased to find an excuse to not talk.
It was only at dessert that she looked me in the eye and pursed her lips.
‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Mona, about the other day.’
I felt so uncomfortable. She was now going to talk down at me for being nosy and interfering and old-fashioned. I debated whether to be on the offensive, or defensive. I’m no good with offensive so I tried to think of an excuse for my behaviour. Hormones. That’s what Ramit keeps going on about.
‘I’m really touched by your concern,’ she said gently.
I looked at her for a hint of sarcasm but she looked, well, genuine.
‘You know, a lot of people do assume Shashi and I are married and well, with the baby it’s all the more uncomfortable admitting that we’re not and that’s why, I overreacted the other day.’
‘Well, it wasn’t my place…’
‘Oh but it was,’ she said squeezing my hands. I was definitely not expecting this.
‘I feel so touched that you were concerned about me. You didn’t judge me or my choices but actually came to lend me a helping hand. That hasn’t happened with me in … years.’
She leaned back against her chair with a faraway look in her eyes. ‘I have a lot of friends, Mona. Many of them I can count on; many of them are, well, just acquaintances. But I keep myself busy by having them around because, well, I don’t have any family.’ She looked at me with … envy?
‘Gosh, I’m so jealous of you. You have your husband and in-laws and parents and sister … they all dote on you and they’re always there for you and the baby. I have … well, Shashi.’ Her eyes looked sad.
‘I’m not used to people offering help. I’ve lived alone for so many years, dealt with so much shit, that I hate accepting help. I don’t even like to acknowledge to myself that I need help. But you came by the other day and…’
‘Where is your family?’ Stupid thing to ask and be all nosy, but my tongue has a mind of its own.
‘Well, I haven’t seen my father since I was twelve. He’s lived in the States, mostly. He moved after the divorce. My mother visits every now and then. But she’s mostly in Australia now. I don’t hear from her very often. The only family I have is my friends. Tina, to start with. Though it’s only been a few years since I’ve known her, she really looks out for me. And there’s Shashi…’
She bit her lip and I genuinely felt sorry for her. ‘Well, I didn’t think Shashi would take the baby thing so badly. I mean, it’s not badly, really, but he’s not very involved at all. He tried to reason with me on whether we should have this baby. After all, we were very clear about not getting married – he’s had a bad experience. And he wondered if things would change and whether I’d want to get married now. But I’m okay. I am, really. As long as he, well, as long as he wants the child too. I know, of course, there are lots of upsides to being married, for the sake of your baby, but I don’t want us to marry just because of a baby. And I’m really excited, you know. My very own family. For you, you have so much family. For me, my baby will be my own. For the first time. Mine.’ She flashed me the warmest of smiles, cuddling her hands under her chin.
‘And yes, I currently do feel a bit lonely. I mean, loneliness has never saddened me before and I like my space and, honestly, if my mum really does turn up, I wouldn’t know what to do with her beyond an hour! But, you know, pregnancy hormones. They make you feel so happy and so sad all at the same time. So fulfilled yet so lonely. Sometimes I wonder whether I’ll be able to do justice as a single parent. I mean, I know I’m not a single parent and that Shashi is there … or will be there, once he sees how sweet the baby is.’ A hint of doubt crossed her face but she shook her head and smiled at me.
‘Anyway, I never had anyone offering me help. And so I wanted to thank you. Thank you for offering and thank you for not judging.’
I squirmed in my seat. I had judged her. I’ve judged her since the moment we’d met.
All I could think of now was how lonely Laila Sach … Haider really must be to make these confessions to me, a total stranger. Almost a total stranger.
I reached out and squeezed her hand.
Ramit
I don’t know what happened at lunch but the wife and the neighbour are suddenly best friends!
Crazy pregnant women!
Week 31
Rhinitis of pregnancy, or a widening of the nose
in the second and third trimester, is caused
by higher estrogen levels
Mona
Shania sent me a rude text about the picture I’d WhatsApped her from my lunch with Laila. ‘What’s going on with your nose? It looks like a trunk.’
‘A tree trunk?’
‘Like an elephant’s trunk.’
I spent the entire morning checking myself out in the mirror. I always thought my nose was short and stubby but she’s right. It does look rather odd now. Like it’s growing.
Ramit
Mona has officially lost it. She wants to meet Dr Mehak to find out if it’s okay for her nose to grow bigger.
Took me a minute to figure out whether she was talking about her own nose or the baby’s.
Mona
Ramit was no help. Kept staring into his phone as usual.
So the next day, I asked Mummy if she could notice a difference in my nose to which she said, ‘Yes, beta. You will have more mucus now, so you should keep it clean. Keep a tissue with you. Glad you noticed.’
Apparently I’ve been walking around like a snotty toddler and no one had bothered to tell me.
I should have got my nose pierced in college.
Ramit
Found Mona in front of the mirror when I got home, holding a ruler to her face.
Exited the room.
Mona
That insensitive twerp.
Spent the night mostly awake, wondering if I was actually going to become Pinocchio.
Heard Ramit sigh loudly and pull out his phone from under his pillow. He Googled nose expansion + pregnancy. Apparently it is a real thing. Some sort of nose growth during pregnancy. He first consoled me, then called me crazy and asked me to go to sleep.
Ramit
Mummy wanted to know whether Mona had been counting the baby’s movement. Told her I didn’t know. She snapped at me for not being an involved dad. I snapped at her and asked her whether Papa knew about my movements when she was expecting me. Then she snapped at me for snapping at her.
And in the midst of it Mona arrived with a red pen mark across her nose.
‘If this mark moves in the next couple of days, I’ll know it’s not just my imagination and that my nose really is growing.’
‘Are you not planning to wash your face for the next few days then?’ I asked her.
Mona looked like she was about to cry – she had obviously not thought this through. Mummy hugged her and then snapped at me for being rude to her pregnant daughter-in-law and said Mona would make a gorgeous mother.
So that’s basically what I should have said rather than bringing up her pregnancy brain.
Mona
Ramit looked all sheepish when he came into bed, apologising for not complimenting me enough, but the baby had started kicking again, so I put his hand on my stomach and he grinned at me.
It’s magical!
Ramit
Still can’t feel a damn thing.
Week 32
There will be another scan to check the position
of the baby
Mona
The final scan before the delivery is scheduled for this morning. We first went to see Dr Ram Rathore and then headed out to meet Dr Mehak in the afternoon. She’s unavailable for the rest of the week as she has a wedding to attend in Thailand.
What if I go into labour! I started palpitating.
Ramit
Change of guards happened this morning. Mummy left for Amritsar. Mom arrived from Dehradun. Their paths did not cross. All is good in the world.
Mona
Shocked beyond words to see Mom in a grey pant suit. Shocked!
Everything matched. The cream shirt, the grey pants, the cream loafers, the cream hand bag.
Apparently Shania has completed two courses on fashion designing online and is experimenting on Mom .
I have never been more delighted.
Ramit
If any of the earlier ultrasounds had seemed miraculous, they paled in comparison to this one.
Dr Ram Rathore switched to the 3D mode today. And today, that alien-looking child of ours with Skeletor-like sockets and bony structure suddenly had flesh everywhere. He had chubby cheeks and Mona’s tiny nose, and he was sucking his little thumb.
I could not believe the clarity with which technology now allowed us to see inside the body.
The only glitch was the, um, boy parts – well, they could have been the umbilical cord, after all. Because everything was all loose and floaty and long today.
So maybe, there still is a chance that it’s a girl. With a large foot.
Mona
After a magical morning and Dr Mehak’s positive comments on my progress and me feeling like a star pupil, she asked us whether we’d booked the hospital she delivers at.
So Ramit being all dutiful husband-like, spoke up in her clinic for the first time and asked her the name of the hospital she practises in.
Ramit
WHAT!
Mona
Ramit’s jaw dropped to his knees. How embarrassing!
Ramit
I cannot believe I heard that! I cannot believe it. She can’t be serious. I glanced at Mona who gave me a tight smile. She knew. Obviously she knew. What kind of dimwit doesn’t bother asking which hospital they’ll be having the baby at? But she can’t be serious about that name!
Finally, I cleared my throat.
‘I’m sorry, Dr Mehak, I didn’t get the name of the hospital,’ I managed to say.
She looked up at me with a deadpan expression and said, matter-of-factly, ‘Tits and Tots.’
Mona
Ramit threw a fit when we got home and said there was no way we were having our baby at a hospital called ‘Tits and Tots’. It sounds obscene, he said.
I have to admit that I had never bothered asking what the full name of T&T Hospital was, and this I was not prepared for, but Ramit is overreacting, really. There’s no need to be pacing up and down like that.
Ramit
How can we even consider this hospital! Why are we even going to this doctor? What will we tell our child all his life? How can we embarrass him like this? How will we tell people where to come visit us?
Mona
So I told Ramit it was all the better because I don’t want people visiting us at the hospital, only close family. To which he had the gall to say that the bheed is family and they will all want to be there.
That’s what I heard.
That they will all want to be there.
They. Will. All. Want. To. Be. There.
All.
ALL!
Ramit
Crazy pregnant woman is now huffing and puffing about how I could even dare to consider calling the entire bheed over. She tells me I’m crazy about going crazy over just the hospital name when I’m clearly the one doing the craziest thing of all.
I decide to storm out of the room and sulk in the drawing room and start looking for other doctors and hospitals we could go to. I know changing the doctor at such a crucial stage is terrible but Tits and Tots? No!
Mona
ALL!
He thinks we’re calling ALL the relatives to view my labour.
He wants us to split up right before our first child comes into this world. That’s what he wants.
Ramit
Googled all the maternity hospitals and doctors in the city. There’s some La Enfante or something. Laila’s going there. Decided we should just get Mona to switch to that too.
And there’s some T&T which is very well known … Oh.
Mona
Ramit is calmer, now that he’s found out that the hospital is actually called Teats and Tots and while honestly, it still sounds like Tits and Tots to me, I’m not walking down that path. I don’t want to change my doctor at this stage. Not after fighting with the mothers over it and winning! He is now Googling the meaning of teat.
I find Mom tutting away at the 3D scan, turning it left to right, up to down.
‘It just looks like a giant orange mess. What face are you even talking about?’
So when I send the image to Mummy and Shania and Laila, I include comments and arrows to title the parts of the face.
The younger women coo at it. The mothers just don’t get it.
‘Can’t wait for my scan!’ Laila texts me.
I know I’m being competitive, but can’t help feeling smug about being four weeks ahead of her. Or three. Or whatever.
Then just before we get into bed, I have an emotional meltdown and make Ramit promise that none of his relatives will turn up to see me till I am back home, wearing nice clothes and till my hair has been blow-dried.
Week 33
Start making preparations for the new baby
Ramit
Top secret agenda underway. At 10 a.m. on Saturday I announced that we needed to finish off the baby shopping. Mona, who looked exhausted after being awake for thirty whole minutes today, tried to postpone it. I was insistent. Mona’s Mom kept looking at the watch.
After plenty of complaints and drama, we left the house at noon.
Mona
My mother is the quee
n of emotional drama. When I had gone shopping with Ramit’s mother she had created such a hue and cry about not being included in the experience and preparation. But today when we finally decided to go shopping, she wanted to stay home and relax.
‘Enjoy your time alone!’ she said, cheerfully bidding us good-bye.
‘But you wanted to be a part of this,’ I hissed at her.
‘Oh well, next time,’ she said dismissively.
‘There won’t be a next time! I only have three items left on the list.’
‘Four, actually. Here, Ramit, beta. Mona’s Dad has sent this money for her. Buy her a lovely maternity dress!’
‘I’m thirty-three weeks pregnant! Why will I need a maternity dress now!’
‘Doesn’t hurt to be well dressed,’ she reasoned.
‘This is ridiculous! I’m not taking this money!’ I complained.
‘Take it!’
‘No!’
‘Take it!’
‘No!’
‘Mona!’
‘Mom!’
‘It’s from your father!’
‘I’ll take it but not for me. I’ll buy something for the baby!’
Then randomly Ramit snatched the money from us and walked off to the car.
Then, later, something got into him. He wanted us to have lunch out. I told him I had too much acidity and didn’t want to eat at all but he insisted we grab a salad. A salad! I turned my nose up at it and ate a loaded cheese taco instead.
Then we walked at snail’s pace through the stores. Ramit even stopped at a book store. He who does not read anything beyond his phone! And anyway, did he not realize how terribly uncomfortable I was?
And then he took me to this uber-expensive store and asked me to buy a dress. I refused but he insisted. And then when I finally dressed in a lovely red, chiffon knee-length kind of dream, he said we were buying it. Without looking at the price tag. And what’s worse, he insisted I keep it on. He created such a scene by snatching up my maternity slacks and shirt and shoving them into the bag that I had to leave the store in embarrassment. Now I’m walking around the mall dressed like I’m off to prom night.
By 4 p.m., I wanted to kill him.