Choosing Baby Over NZ

"I love Spring! Can you see how happy I am? Don't I look happier than I have all Winter? It's the Spring, I tell you", I squealed. That was two years ago.

When I said those words, I had no clue that my life was about to change. Scratch that. The clues were all there, heaps of them buzzing in front of my eyes every day. My life was about to take an overhaul but I had failed to recognize the signs. I complained about ageing and took a little pleasure in the weight loss. If someone had said to me that I may be having a baby, I would have laughed (maybe they did and maybe I did).

The only change I foresaw in my life was a career change. I could totally see THAT happening. New job. Excitement. More money. I had a list of places on my place-to-visit board that I could see being ticked off. My biggest question was whether I could afford that big Europe trip, especially as I was travelling to New Zealand the following February. Maybe I could swing it because DH would find a job by then. Surely, with his high IQ and superior skill-sets, he wasn't going to be without a job for long!

Five days after I said those words, I was sitting at the GP's office. I won't go into the details of that argument but it could be roughly summarized like this:

You're pregnant.

No, I'm not!

A blood test should confirm it.

A week later, he was writing me a referral to see an obstetrician. 

Ross was a funny guy. One of the first things he told me was that he offered no refunds or returns. He also informed me that RSPCA would not help me either. Then he warned me not to get overweight or I'd be hard-pressed to lose the extra weight. Truer words have never been spoken.

Fast-forward to the following February. New Zealand was the last thing on my mind, as I lay there telling the annoying mid-wife to go away. No, I did not want to sit on a ball in the shower. I just needed some sleep. Yeah, like that was happening!

Five days later, we bundled the wee little thing into the car seat, buckled her up and drove home. I kept wondering how they could trust that life in my hands. Hospitals should not be allowed to do that! There had to be some rules against it, in the interest of the baby. When we got home and realized that the car seat buckle hadn't been done up properly, I knew I was right!

In spite of the crazy year that at times dragged on and other times flew past, the New Zealand dream was still there. If I managed to keep her alive till then, we would celebrate her 1st birthday in NZ. Just us surrounded by beautiful scenery and unfamiliar faces. 

Let's just say the stars refuse to align for New Zealand to happen as yet. Maybe I should plan Europe. In the meanwhile, I continue to grapple with the changes this new lifestyle has brought for me. 

Stress Is My First Name, Panic My Middle Name

In a chat with a friend of mine, back in my pre-university days, we discussed how sometimes our intuition warned us of upcoming events and we ended up feeling guilty for not having understood the signs when it was something bad. It's a little freaky but we took it in our stride. We said, "It's a woman's instinct. That's how it is meant to be." 

I grew up, almost forgetting that conversation. Yet it lurked in my mind, ready to spring out at (in)appropriate times. 

In the last couple of years, there were two instances where I nagged a dear one to do something and when they did, they ended up in accidents. It is hard not to feel guilty when such things happen. So, how do you get over the nagging feeling that if you had not demanded it, things might have turned out differently?

I've spent most part of my life, never having to visit a hospital (well, almost). My brother and I were too young to realize when dad broke his leg. As far as we were concerned, we visited him at the hospital after school and he would be in a really good mood, amusing us with stories. At home, we got a share of the chicken leg soup that dad was prescribed. Yumm. Mum spent all these years, without ever having to stay in bed (touchwood), so did bro and I, until recently. 

Bro was in the hospital recently, when his wife's dog took a chewy bite off his lower lip. It was a gory sight. While I nearly fainted as I watched the nurses handle the wounds and the needles, I chose to stay because it was better than the alternative. The alternative was to stay away and not know what was happening. I hate uncertainty, I hate not knowing. I just cannot deal with it. It stresses me to no end. 

The only time I have ever been able to handle hospitals, operations, etc were with my Sonu. He wouldn't co-operate with anyone else when he was sick and I loved him enough to overcome my weak feelings regarding hospitals, doctors and everything around them. 

This morning started off with a grumpy me. I checked my email thrice and ended up restless. Something was wrong. It was not so much instinct as it was a conclusion drawn out of a series of un-natural events. When I made a phone call to check, my worst fears were realized! The next few hours were spent in numerous SMS-es, emails, phone calls and tears. The stress of not knowing and the tension of waiting for an update made me dizzy. The news seemed to get worse with each update. Google didn't help, only managed to freak me further. 

The much-awaited call happened but all it did was bring me to tears. Yeah, I guess I'm a sook! "Don't be a cry baby", the message said. Yeah right, easier said than done! Panic should have been my middle name. I was swinging between feeling silly but unable to stop worrying. The final update came at the 7PM call I had waited all day, to make. The friend said, "It's just a girl thing", so he didn't mind me bothering him all day. Thank God for wonderful friends, what would the world be without them!!

A couple of hours later, another call and depression set in again. It was lovely to talk and find out it wasn't so bad. It was awful to hear those groans and feel the weakness in the voice. It hurt. It looks like a long weekend ahead. A really long one! More uncertainty, no updates and lots of wondering. Not fun.

In the meanwhile, CSK is playing a 'super' match against Deccan Chargers. Chennai Super Kings they are. There's a good chance the game will turn around and DC will win but I am hoping it will be CSK that takes home the goodies. Another DC wicket down. 48-4.

The Process Of Healing

I'm not a great fan of shows or sessions that talk about God and religion. I have nothing against them, it is just that I find those things very personal. I would get very uncomfortable if I had to be part of a discussion around these topics, unless on a light note. If I read something related that might have touched me, I would never post it on my blog or anywhere else. It amazes me how many people can unabashedly preach and write about that stuff. 

I found The Process Of Healing by Jessica, who is in the process of healing from a run-related injury, when I went over to read Ameena's guest post on her blog. A note in her blog from earlier this week, struck me. It's something that I've believed in, although I might have worded it differently, if I had to do it myself. She heard this on a Joyce Meyer show on TV

"God will bring trials into our lives but only trials that are going to work out for the good, that are going to lift us up, and make us stronger in the end. He is not going to bring something into our lives that we can’t handle."

Although it doesn't stop me from stressing (I pretty much thrive on it), I always promise myself, when things go wrong, that I will grow out of this a stronger person because there has got to be something better waiting for me. It is almost impossible to look at things that way when you're really down. Fortunately for me, I've always had someone reinforcing the faith in me. 

When I hit a crisis situation in office late last year, my boss had called me up and said, "I'm sure you'll emerge a stronger woman at the end of this, Sangeetha, don't give up. Keep your head down, ignore the things around you and keep doing the good work you always do". It had made a difference to me at so many levels. The sentence rang in my head every time I thought it was going to be hard to move forward. I had received a lot of support and some very well-meant advice, which helped me get where I am today, but that sentence rung in my head whenever I found it hard to say it to myself. Then there was the faith constantly instilled by my own very angel, who said so often that things had to get better that I believed in that belief!

This is the year of change for me. The year of making things happen for me. My year. 2010. The year of loosening up about closeted feelings, opening up to uncomfortable situations and taking risks. As I slowly unravel myself, I find that it is not all as hard as I thought it might be. It has been and continues to be unnerving often-times but the effort is worthwhile. I have found a whole new meaning in the world of friendships. I have  been able to make decisions that could make some of my dreams reality. 

This blog is one such attempt. Loosening up. It was hard but do-able. Earlier this week, I resigned from my current job without another one at hand. A risk but I took it. 

In a couple of months, I will embark upon an event that could change my life in many ways - another big chance with my life - I'm anxious and excited. In eight months, another event - more excitement than anxiety. 

Through all this, I'm uncovering bits of myself I had never known existed and loving every day of discovery!

Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart by Dr. Gordon Livingston

One of my Christmas presents this year was a book called 'Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart: Thirty True Things You Need to Know Now', by Gordon Livingston, with a foreword by Elizabeth Edwards. Dr. Livingston is a physician, psychiatrist and writer. Edwards is one of those he met on an online bereaved parents forums and has drawn strength from him to reclaim her life. 

It's one of the best books I have ever read. I'm still reading it but I wanted to write about it. Dr. Livingston gives a fresh perspective to so many things. Some of the things he said were new to me, some simply surprised me by the obvious nature of it and how I'd failed to see. The chapters are named such that you only need to read the contents page for a host of quotes to think about. Edwards' foreword makes good reading, makes you wonder if you will get the same benefits out of this book that she did. 

You don't need to be suffering to read Dr. Livingston's book, he just steers you to look in another direction. Each person could get something else to take away from each chapter, often not what the title says. I tweeted one such, from each chapter of the book and am reproducing it here. I've copied from Twitter, so you need to read backwards (starting from the last occurrence of 'bumblebee' to the first, which is from chapter 18).

bumblebee Ch18. There is nothing more pointless, or common, than doing the same things and expecting different results! bumblebee ...hope, chance, intuition, and a willingness to be surprised.  


bumblebee (contd) Often it is the dalliances and the detours that define us. There are no maps to guide our most important searches; we must rely on...  


bumblebee  Ch16. Though a straight line appears to be the shortest distance between two points, life has a way of confounding geometry. (contd)  


bumblebee Ch15. The process of building has always been slower and more complicated (i.e. less immediately satisfying) than that of destruction.  


bumblebee (contd)... people fall out of love, the demands for explanation are insistent.  


bumblebee  Ch14. It seems ironic that when people fall in love, no justification for their attachment is necessary. When, on the other hand... (contd)  


bumblebee Instead I ask them to examine what it is that has so far dissuaded them from killing themselves.  


bumblebee Ch13 Suicide is the ultimate expression of preoccupation with self. When confronted with a suicidal person I dont try to talk them out of it...  


bumblebee ... of inestimable value to those who survive us.  


bumblebee Ch12. (Old age) If we can retain our good humor and interest in others even as the curtain closes, we'll have contributed something...  


bumblebee Ch11. We simply pay too much attention to words - ours and others' - and not enough to the actions that actually define us.  


bumblebee ...our different roles demand different attitudes.  


bumblebee ...worker, partner, parent, friend, is a challenge. We think of ourselves as the same person whatever we may be doing at the moment. But...  


bumblebee Ch10. A certain amt of compartmentalization in necessary to succeed in different areas of our lives. Juggling our mutual responsibilities...  


bumblebee Ch9. Life is a gamble in which we don't get to deal the cards, but are nevertheless obligated to play them to the best of our ability.  


bumblebee The best hope is to introduce them to the paradox of perfection: in some settings (relationships), we gain control only by relinquishing it.  


bumblebee ... can render them insufferable in their personal lives. To be less controlling in their jobs would render them ineffective.  


bumblebee Ch8. The problem with perfectionists and their pre-occupation with control is that the qualities that make them effective in their work...  


bumblebee Ch7. I did my best to fit in. I just got tired of it.  


bumblebee (contd)... to alter their behaviour in ways that allow them to exert greater control over their lives.  


bumblebee Ch6. While medication can provide crucial, sometimes live-saving relief, people also have an obligation... (contd)  


bumblebee Ch5. While it takes two people to create a relationship, it only takes one to end it.  


bumblebee Ch4 Finally, if a person I'm talking to appears wedded determinedly to the past and unwilling to contemplate a better future, I grow impatient.  


bumblebee Ch3. Many are the ways that parents instill a sense of obligation in their children. In fact, our children owe us nothing.  


bumblebee Ch2. He says, "Past behaviour is the most reliable predictor of future behaviour" What about when people change? How do we acknowledge that?  


bumblebee Ch2: We love someone when the importance of his or her needs and desires (to us) rises to the level of our own.  


bumblebee Ch1: If the map doesn't agree with the ground, the map is wrong.  


bumblebee 18 chapters. Want to write one best line from each. Let me try. It's gonna be harder when there are more than one lines...

Maybe when I'm done with the book, I'll pull out a line from the rest of the chapters. 

You can read this book as many times as you want and still be touched by it. The quotes above won't spoil the book for you, if you ever mean to read it, just like Dr. Livingston's titles didn't change what I would take away from his observations. 

I'll end this by quoting one of the reviewers/readers of Dr. Livingston's book(s). Mark Helprin, author of the books A Soldier Of The Great War and Winter's Tale says about Dr. Gordon Livingston, "To read him is to trust him and to learn, for his life has been touched by fire, and his motives are absolutely pure."

Think Of An Angel & Hear The Flutter Of Its Wings

The start of a long weekend. Saturday morning. Sleep in. Woke up at 8AM, wishing I could get a real hug!

Lucky comes, wagging her tail, when she hears me stir. My cutie-pie! I love her so much. Hugged her, rubbed her until she first sat down to enjoy the attention and finally lay down just below the bed.

The husband follows a few minutes later. First talks to Lucky. Then it's my turn. Plants a kiss on my forehead and goes out to make tea for me. Cute as it may be, I'm still wishing I could get a real hug. He suddenly turns around and flings my donkey pillow at me. "Hug this", he says. Surprised! I didn't ask for a hug, how did he know? If he knew, why didn't he hug me?

Sigh! Where is the angel whose wings flutter when you wish for...

No Photos Please!

The intelligence and behaviour of dogs has never failed to amaze me. Some of their actions are so common that they may be the most natural thing, yet excite me to a great extent.

I woke up this morning to two dog-stories. My friend tells me how his little one that takes up his side of the bed and there is a fight for territory. Go back a few years. It's Sonu and dad fighting every night, for the spot next to mum. Dogs, the world over, are so similar. The husband, during our morning tea together, tells me how the little black pup near our house got chased off by the bigger dogs and his dad went across to comfort him. In a flash, the little one had forgotten all about the bullies and was jumping about excitedly. I've always known the big dad dog as a quiet, inexpressive dog. To hear that he acknowledges his little baby in the absence of the mother is so heart-warming.

Last night, as Lucky, the husband and I did our routine walk, we passed by the wine store down the road. There's a pack of 3 dogs and 2 puppies that sleep there. The black pup is very territorial and goes 'yap, yap, yap' the moment we hit the spot. His sibling, the white one, stands and eyes us warily. Sometimes he yaps too. Yesterday was one of those times. The moment the little ones start yelping, three fawn dogs come running out of nowhere. If there were two, I'd say the parents. I never understood the story of 3 but there they are, always together, all equally protective of the puppies.

So, if you pass by that corner with a dog, you'll see 2 pups who raise an alarm (and then head off into the side lane to hide) and 3 dogs who take position at the turning of the main street and the side lane.

They looked so beautiful, watching each other's backs, that I had to have a picture. The ever-obliging husband pulled out his cell phone and started clicking. Immediately, the mother of the pups stood up and crossed the road, to hide behind a road-sign. She hates it. I wonder how she knows but she does and she hides if you're taking a picture. Just like my Lucky. Just like my Sonu. He used to love posing as a kid but turned camera-shy as he grew older. The little ones of my friend's, they seem to love it, staring right at the camera. Maybe, it's a universal thing. Pups love being photographed but the older ones don't. Maybe it's a natural instinct to grow cynical about the whims of humans as dogs grow older.

I guess I'll never know but things like these fascinate me to no end. How do they know so much, without being taught? How do they understand?

As we passed them by and the husband stopped taking pictures, the mother returned to her place with the other two. We turned around and took another shot at them. They had to go on my blog. The mother is the one in the centre, in the picture below.

10 Honest Things About Me

When I first started blogging, it was just about keeping myself in touch with writing - keeping my written English a tad cleaner than the spoken, to be more precise. So it has remained, until this day. I am not a regular follower of anyone's blogs nor have I attempted to invite visitors to my own or make new friends. The quiet privacy accorded by Blogger suits me just fine and I refuse to move out to a more open space, although I have considered it on one occasion.

A friend and fellow-blogger, who's very active on the blogging scene posted this yesterday and invited me to read it http://jeeney.wordpress.com/2010/01/16/i-have-received-so-i-give/ . Now I'm expected to come up with 10 honest things about myself. This is hard. As hard as writing up a self-assessment for that annual appraisal or putting together a resume for a new job. I was procrastinating on this activity until this morning, when someone pushed me to give it a shot. There are some people I just cannot refuse anything, so here I am.

• My name means music but as the husband puts it I "cannot sing a tune to save my life"

That reminds me of my earliest days at Engineering college. As fate would have it, I was one of those bakras (scapegoat) trapped by seniors to be 'ragged' and I was asked to sing songs in all the languages that I knew. Try as they may, they could not get me sing or even remember lines of any of the songs they wanted. Eventually, they settled for making me wear salwar to college for an entire week, with flowers in my hair. Those were the days when wearing a salwar was, for me, dressing up for a costume party

• I can speak 3 & 1/4 languages and understand another 3 (somewhat)

English is the language I speak best (uh umm) and think in. Kannada, I speak better than a lot of Bengaluru Kannadigas. Hindi, our national language and that which saved the day when I first moved to Mumbai. Malayalam is my mother-tongue. Whereas I can understand a fair bit of it, I barely manage to say much and even then it would be in a strong Kannadiga accent. Hence, qualifies as 1/4th of a language in the language count.

Every South Indian must (atleast every Bangalorean must) understand a smattering of Tamil and Telugu, and so I do. My Mumbai days has familiarized me with a few words in Marathi...

• Although I am mostly seen in trousers/jeans and shirts/tees, my wardrobe has more girly dresses/tops/salwars

I attribute this mainly to the fact that on days that I am wearing the 'girl' cap, I end up having shopping binges and buy clothes by the dozen. Considering that I hardly wear them, they last longer and the wardrobe just grows bigger.

• My best friends have always been boys

For a long time, I use to check out girls because that's what boys do and that's what I did with my best friends. Somewhere along the line, I fell in love with one cute guy, married him and never found anyone else cute ever again. How many cute guys have come and gone while I was busy checking out the same girls that they were?

I guess it's never too late to make up...

• I've only met one girl in my entire life who was anything like me and we shared some wonderful times together

My roommate and I stayed up late nights watching Tom Cruise movies or crying over 'Life Is Beautiful', allowed the boys to cook for us while we watched Just-For-Laughs on Pogo, spent hours at the beauty parlour, went shopping at Borivli the first week of every month to pick up cheap trousers for 50 bucks off the streets, slept late into the mornings until the boys went nuts knocking at our door to go out for breakfast and then there were some crazy stuff we did...

• I've been wanting to get back to yoga for some time now. It's been over 11 years and I'm still saying...

Need I say more? I wasted 250 bucks on a CD by Shilpa Shetty. Well, I played it once...

• I love pets

I used to be terrified of dogs until, one day, at the age of 15, I decided that I wanted one. After much persuasion, my parents let me get a pomeranian, the cheapest available at the vet, for 600 bucks. There's been no looking back. After Sonu, there's Lucky. I also have fish and some trying times managing them! I wouldn't change any of that for anything

• I am terrible with clothes

During my college days, I was really thin and I wore over-sized men's shirts and baggy trousers. Now, I'm fat and want to wear clothes that I cannot carry off!

• I love playing pranks

Right from the days of reading Mallory Towers, Chalet School books, I have loved the idea of playing pranks on people. While most children finish their quota during their school days and grow up once they start working, my pranks started only after I started working. I guess I'm growing backwards

• I change my hairstyle every year

I first cut my hair 7 years ago, when I started working and I have changed my hairstyle every year. Each time, I have managed to horrify people around me.

Phew! That took a lot of digging. I wish I had more blogger-friends. I'd like to do what my friend did. Jot down a few names and go 'Tag, you're it!'

By Your Side, Always!

BY YOUR SIDE by Ruwaida Van Doorsen

It hurts to know you’re hurting

Because you’re so special in my heart

The pain that you are feeling

Is tearing me apart

But know that love has a way

Of easing all that’s wrong

Together we can make it

If we hold on and just be strong

Know that you’re not alone

In all your adversity

For by your side through and through

Is where I’ll always be.

I've been a sucker for poems since my school days. My favourite books in school included poetry books. Yet you'd be surprised to know that I do not own a single poetry book in my library (yeah, I have a library at home, woohoo). I don't know why. I guess it's because I don't have enough time to sit back and enjoy a good poem anymore. I can't read poetry in a hurry, I need to savour it, bit by bit, trying to understand the various meanings hidden between lines, between words and let my imagination fly. I do sometimes get online and read a few when I can. At times, I even steal a few to send my friends (gone are the days I used to write my own... sigh!)

I went on one of my poetry reading sprees this evening, to ease my disturbed mind. Today's theme was friends. These are my dedication to the world's greatest friend - I am so lucky to have you in my life!

ALWAYS FRIENDS by Randall Beers (Mmm... beer!)

I accept you in confidence,
I listen and admire your wisdom.
We are one when we are together,
You and I will always be friends.

When you are angry,
I am there to sooth your aggression.
When you are sad,
I am there to cheer you up.
(Mmmm... ok, not always.. Mmmm... actually, you cheer me up)

We understand each others thoughts,
Words with us aren’t needed.
We have a trust that is very rare,
You and I will always be friends.

What we enjoy doing together comes natural,
We accept life and move ahead.
I am your shadow and you mine,
We are inseparable if only in mind.  

BEST FRIEND by Teri Martinez

We have been friends for so long
We have grown closer with every passing year
I have grown to love you more every day
If it wasn't for you I would be lost right now

Sure we may argue sometimes
But it helps us grow closer
You have been a really true friend to me

I thank God for you everyday
Nine years ago this friendship started
It has truly grown into something wonderful

I wish I could truly thank you for all that you have helped me with
And all the hard times you have helped me get through

But words just are not strong enough
I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here
Thank you so much
I love you dearly


TREE AT MY WINDOW by Robert Frost (one of my favourite poets)

Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you and me.

Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground,
And thing next most diffuse to cloud,
Not all your light tongues talking aloud
Could be profound.

But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seen me when I slept,
You have seen me when I was taken and swept
And all but lost.

That day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imagination about her,
Your head so much concerned with outer,
Mine with inner, weather.

Psst: There's more at http://www.netpoets.com/poems/.htm When you steal, it's good to acknowledge the source, to soothe any hard feelings ;)