The Him-Her Blur

When you start making a baby, you come across several questions that need to be answered. One type of those questions are about "When in which stage should I reveal it to who". I have written about it earlier in my blog. I have spoken with several Europeans, Indians, Africans, and Americans and majority of cultures and countries have this 3 month watch period. Ob-gyns differ in their opinion about whether the first 3 months are critical. One of them said to me long back, "It is about as risky and safe as during the rest of the pregnancy." The logicians say, "Well, the first three months you learn the behaviour to keep yourself and your baby safe. Then, you learn and thus, you will, as with other skills, become more at ease with handling your pregnancy." Before I forget, I came to know of yet another strange phenomenon. Yes! I came to know that the first trimester is not counted as three months - it is a strange thing but the first trimester actually is 14 weeks.

My story begins after the critical 3 months or 14 weeks are over.

This is the time when you are no longer battling the urge to talk about your baby. You have been told that it is now OK to talk. You are talking. You are talking to everyone who would listen. Naturally, when people listen to the news the first time they are very sweet to you. Only one of my friends put his hand on my shoulder and in a very grim voice said, "I can understand, man." I don't know who is being honest - him or them!

The big problem that I face during these conversations is the gender of the baby. I have no clue what to call him...er... her...the baby. English language screws me over again and again. "The child", "My child" and "the baby" either don't always make for the best sentences, and used repeatedly will get eyebrows raised. I mean, they invented pronouns so that we don't have to do "My child" again and again.

Every time I wanna talk about how I felt when I saw _ _ _ kicking in the ultrasound, I struggle between him and her. When my wife is ignoring her health and not eating for a long time, I go, "Hey, the baby wants something to eat, why don't we give _ _ _ some grapes (him/her) and so on.

The problem get aggravated when you are speaking with a group of people and you have just made a joke, and as men often do, you are laughing heartily at your joke and hoping everyone else will follow. In this moment, when you are worrying about your skills as a joke-teller or social conversation maker, a woman in the group would get annoyed. She would go grim-faced, squint her eyes and squirt back, "Don't mind dear! Men are so hard-coded to want a boy. Did you notice how you said you will clean HIS potty? Well, your baby could be a girl child. Grow up!" This leaves you oscillating between being stupid enough to want to protest and explain your point of view, and being pragmatic enough to eat shit and let go. I put these kinds on my "to be killed later" list.

Nonetheless, HE is on HIS way and I would love it equally if HE turns out to be a SHE, or SHE turns out to be a HE. I refuse to give up pronouns, have no will to write English 2.0, and I know saying "My child" is not cool.

In protest,
Papa Soon!

A week is a long time.

When she is pregnant, she is never really asleep. She has a continuous task. She keeps making the baby. It has been just about three weeks since my last post and so much water has passed under the bridge. For a starter, the baby has doubled in size. So, a small lemon has now grown into a peach - from 1.5 inches to 3 inches. Think of it this way. If you were 6 feet on the new year eve, by the 15th of January you would be the size of a baby elephant. Now that is called growth! Presidents! Economists! Pay Heed!

So much has happened in the past few week that this post is more a diary and sharing exercise than anything else. Let me recall what all happened around pregnancy and around issues around pregnancy and stuff around those issues that are issues around pregnancy. We will begin with the most exciting things first! 

We.. ahem.. SAW .. the baby for the first time. I was excited. My reaction was purely physical - tremors in body, heartbeat rate up, and a muffled shriek of joy. Soon, the technician in me kicked in, and started fiddling with the ultrasound controls, which wasn't met with appreciation by the Doctor. I could see two tiny hands, something around legs, and the right hand of the baby was going up and down in a swimming-dancing combined mix. I declared that the baby is a dance lover. We kept watching the baby. My wife did nothing for a while. She was mesmerized, and then, she did what she did. She cried. This is that moment when I struggle hard. 

We had a lot of samples taken for further tests and stuff. Tonnes of infections to rule out are being listed out. She is taking it all in her stride or they are taking it all in their stride. Life is good and God is in heaven. We were excited that only a couple of days later, we would have the high resolution ultrasound. The remaining part of the day was declared a holiday, a nice lunch was had in an amazing restaurant, and she and I kept dancing just as our baby did when being pictured.

I am already so emotional that I have to wait before writing further. Signing off, dancing!