My Lady of the Lantern

Well, quite unlike they show it in the movies, the sky does not rumble with thunder, winds do not blow and jackals do not howl at profound moments. In real life, without any gamma for special effects, words that come out in monotone are as powerful as any other words that had crackling associated with them. I walked into the room and took a nanosecond to register her tears. I told her what I had to. I asked her why she was crying. How did this all come to be? I have no answers to that. Not her faith or mine saved a baby that was so long in the making. Life does not tarry in black and white and is not a consort for Boolean Algebra. There are no absolute villains.

My mummy is here, I have gas, This is a stupid poem But that's what me has; Am meeting Dr. BS tomorrow, Craving a butt-smacking tetanus shot, and not even by a bow and arrow! I think you are still reading this: 'Why?', That's what I wonder, OK folks, I am walking off, Swimming to loony down under! ^WiseGuy^

Do you remember that one flipped out evening led me to a decision about which I said I would speak later? I guess now is a good time to say what it is - Where to give birth? Home Birth? I am not for it. So, it would definitely be a medical facility, right? The question is - where? The city that I am in right now, I cannot consider too many options as available for me. Dr. BS though has a better equipped private hospital than most others around here (and it has a NICU, huge plus). So hers was the place I wanted to give birth in, if I were staying back here for the D-day. The city(City X) where I now plan to be for the D-day is where my parents and in-laws are. I will go to stay with my mom for the delivery. And a few days post-birth, will visit my in-laws. And then return to my current abode. Oh joy! Why am I taking that longer path - the second alternative? My mother * would have come down even if I had decided to stay on here. But here she would be no more than an attendant. She has ...

Mum had been on my case (again)...for the past few days asking me to add curd to my daily diet. I being the free birdie, procrastinated. Sunday I sent an SOS : I suspected a fungal infection.... I have had it really. I would like the past fortnight to not repeat itself. Please! I am gearing up for tomorrow's appointment+ultrasound, and it better tell me 'improvement'. Grrrr... ^WiseGuy^ P.S. The infection has been taken care of already. Thank God for that.

It finally peaked last night. I have been making small mistakes here and there. Ouch, I said and got forward knowing that it was too minor for anything. A jerk here, a foot stuck in some wire there, getting up too fast or having to use the stairs more than often. Cutting a little slack in the resting time, passing on the milk and all that jazz, I did random things wrong. Again very minor random things. Yesterday, X had organized a small get-together at my home. Few of my relatives were to attend the lunch. First of all, I did not sleep too well. Plus there was some excitement about the event. I took a half-day off from work and reported in the office in the morning, then dashed back home around 1230 hrs. The lift was not working and I took the stairs. The excitement quotient stayed high. What I ate was heavier than what I was accustomed to. Part of the visitors left, and one aunt stayed back. I thought she had gone to rest, but she was in the mood for chatting. We talked and her family...

Dear K, There is a way mothers can get on your nerves like nobody can. And yes, there is not one thing you can do about it. I took several years to understand and acknowledge it, but you must know what you should now get ready for. When I saw you last time, you were sucking your thumb. That was so cute. Only that if that happens when you are out, that thumb would have to come out stat! I went shopping for greeting cards on Sunday, and I ended up looking for and identifying things I want to buy for you - a cute heart shape pillow, and a baby book cum picture album. Mummy was meditating and saw a young boy. She believes that she saw you. We will see about that. I want you to come out healthy and fine, and if you are a girl well, I will get to buy all the cute frocks that I only see and pass on. Oh by the way, if you want to take one thing from me, take my smiling face. That is so pleasant! Stay good baby! ^WiseGuy^

Went in for a check-up on Wednesday night. It went well. Mummy was with me. We had an ultrasound. Kaiser has me confused. The blog ticker bombed-tick-tocked at 13wk3days but Kaiser was measuring 14wk2days. As usual, I will keep holding to the conservative figure. This trip of Mummy was also subject to discussion on where I would finally want to have my delivery. Still very fluid on that. I have not been able to take a pic of the belly, and I will perhaps do it in a couple of days. You guys be good. ^WiseGuy^

I have too much to write and not enough time, so rather than posting separately and giving due honours to my ideas, I will just make a has-all kind of a post. I - Flashback We have a thing...mothers who drop something on their dress while eating sometimes quip that probably their kid is hungry. Before I say it, let's just say that I am not really Bella Swan in the eating department. But cleanliness? Yep, maybe. In August 2008, I was sharing some snack with a colleague and kind of dropped some tidbit on my dress. The fabric had a tidy splotch of oil from the drop. I quipped spontaneously, " Oh my child must be hungry ." My colleague rolled her eyes. She knew my stellar status. She asked, "Are you expecting?" I said ' No ' and laughed it off. Last Thursday, I and Birdman were enjoying ice-cream after our dinner, and I managed to have some chocolate drip onto my nightgown. I started smiling. I told him, " Oh Kaiser must be hungry ." I am so relie...

Dear Kaiser, You seem to be doing so good. I am somewhere between 11 and weeks pregnant with you. We saw you on July 26, and you were measuring 3 days ahead! I think it was watching you flail and flap your arms that really got to me. Tears slid off my cheeks. I like the nurse in the hospital. She noticed my tears. It makes so much difference, Kaiser. People can be so kind in their silent understanding too. Last week, your Papa wished you 'Good Night' one night, and kissed my belly too another night. I have to tell you, I just could not control my laughter on the latter because it feel so weird. I call you Kaiser, but between me and Papa, we call you Baku. It was a name we picked from a movie we saw - 10,000 B.C. Nothing too impressive about the movie per se, but there were two kids in the movie, Baku and Tudu, and we simultaneously swooped up Baku. I was acting you out Monday night. Just like the way I saw you on the ultrasound screen. My food tastes have changed monumentally. ...

Dear Baby Kaiser, The ticker tells me that I am 9wk0d today. I would be hopefully seeing Dr. BS tomorrow so that I can see you once again. I think the bump is starting to appear. You know your momma is not flat-tummied anyways, so she can't really make out if it is your presence or just her old bloated belly showing through right now. I tend to sleep lot lesser in the afternoon, but I make sure that I do lie down for about 10-15 minutes after I come back home from the office. Hope you appreciate that. :-) Your Dadi called me the past week to ask me how you were doing...and how well I was coping. Was so glad to tell her, "All is well". I started having almonds from July 7 (Wednesday). I had soaked four on Tuesday night. Your dad cleaned his hands on two. Yep! Anyways, next day onwards, I started soaking more because you know...bleh! With the way my food cravings have shifted gear, I am yet to decide what you really like. Or anything that I want to eat in particular now get...

I would like to really really really thank everyone who has commented on the past few posts of mine...especially beginning from the June 8th post. For those of you whose e-mail address comes associated with the comment to me, I did hit 'Reply'. However, there are quite a few of you (and several new bloggers for me), who don't have an associated mail id, and so I could not get back to you. But I hugely appreciate your cheering for me. I would also like to acknowledge that some of you who commented have had it very very rough yourself very recently, and yet you came out to chirp with me. I am humbled by that. -- Dr. BS has an assistant called Dr. M. This past week, every time I phoned up to possibly be able to meet Dr. BS, the receptionist would told me that I could just as well book myself for an appointment with Dr. M. The thing is I did not particularly like Dr. M. Anyways, after I was ladled with another 'She won't be available today' , I decided to call Dr. B...

Well he was definitely not saying: 'Respect My Authoritah!!!' I know that by now you must have lost track of all the loony paths I take you to...but hold my hand patiently while I walk you through another realm of irrationality. I dream. My mother dreams. My aunts dream. The street-dog in the next lane dreams. We dream different. Sometimes our dreams cross paths. At such times, we do stop by the picket fences in the moonlight-filled haze to wave at each other. There is a bit of information I withheld from you guys. The morning of 21st November 2008, when I woke from my dream, another aunt reported seeing something, and a second aunt reported something. We did not see the same thing, but it was all connected. My second aunt was not even aware of what I had been upto in my stellar reproductive quest. My mother did not see anything. I am not a dabbler in paranormal. I am not even recommending it. But my mother recently saw a dream and God apparently asked her for me to do a back-t...

I dreamt this in the night bridging 10th and 11th May. I woke up from it and it remained alive in my consciousness. Initially, I did not believe it to be a fertility related dream, but after I spoke to my mother about it, I understood that it could have connections to my fertility issues. I was standing in a rectangular backyard…actually it stretched quite a bit, because a common courtyard ran for all the houses. I do not remember about the house from which I emerged. The door was closed and I had come out to pluck flowers. Well, the courtyard on my right had been segregated by low fencing marking the different houses. On my left there was an open stretch. There were no plants in sight except one crepe jasmine tree that was on my left side and at the absolute end of the courtyard (diagonally). I check out by crossing to the end of the right side as well, and well there were no plants and hence no flowers. The crepe jasmine tree was round shaped and the branches, leaves and flowers were...

…continued from previous post… I think that I am so in-reined with battling infertility, that I do not know what I will do with being pregnant or the kid himself/herself. I do not dwell on this aspect too much, because I have an inkling that I would be *virtually* jumping with joy if I find that I am finally knocked up. But tell me, is pregnancy the same thing for an infertile as a fertile? Is the protruding belly of an infertile gazed at the same way as the qualified others? Would I be more nervous, more tight-knotted and more on the edge all the time? Frankly, I would love to live through pregnancy like her . She was an ideal because she tried to make it as normal as she could and I love that totally. But I am a different person, and my sides will reveal only when my IF-tainted body decides to enjoy the fruit of life. Secondly, my infertility would make my own family process my new status in different ways. The way I would be ‘looked after’ would be starkly different from the caring...

…continued from previous post… I was never a thin kid. I must have been, but those days are no longer in my memory. I preferred Library to Games period by a slightly higher margin, and could play Ludo endlessly. I loved video games and daydreaming. I have never considered myself a sick child per se. My infancy though does chronicle bouts of bronchitis, but that was that…I have never fractured a single bone till now. I have been knocked up by diseases, but I have always recuperated well. I hated injections, I hated tablets and capsules. I was okay with syrups, but they too went in with a lot of effort. My periods were very regular. We had been shown a video about menstrual cycle in school by a FMCG major, who had descended upon us-about-to-hit-puberty (to possibly develop a brand preference) . So when my periods arrived, I was not crying about how I was going to die. I just showed what was happening to my mother. They would arrive like clockwork….for a long long long set of years. Then...

I think I missed writing about this, but a few days back I wrote a 'difficult' mail to my mother. I put across eight questions, and most of them were about my IF struggle. I composed the mail, and I let it sit in the drafts for about two days before I actually pressed 'Send Mail'. I did get a reply. And I know that she tried to answer the questions the best she could. I am NOT convinced on some of the answers. But I was also mildly taken aback by her honest admissions on some of the questions. I do not want to make life difficult for people around me. But I am not at peace. I am struggling. I am struggling with myself, in my relationships, and I no longer look at God with the rose-tinted glasses anymore. I do not want things to be heaped on me. Before I figure out whether I would like to do W, I am burdened with the uh-latest X, Y and Z. And I am lost again. Anyways, I am now delving into finding out more about Pranayam. I do exercise. And as miserable as this may soun...

My cruddy self is out, so bear with me. I was feeling very licked after this last BFN. It should not be any different. After all, I have made it a habit to belt out BFN after BFN after BFN like clockwork. But then something happened. It is all in the mind, you see. I have been frolicking in a dark blue and green sea. It is shaded with lime and violet and red. It is pink and orange. It rises and heaves and grasps at everything. I am floating effortlessly. Wednesday night, I spoke to my mother....after a four day break (the break was not deliberate). I asked her to sing out the whole conversation she had with Dr. Bigshot. It is since that call that I am floating in the sea. I am not swimming, and I am not drowning. You see, the doctor wants to meet once before he can chart out some course of action. Any such hint would have me irate, but I don't know what broke in me, and I just was tempted to try it out. My stuckheadedness did not knuckle in at all. BabySmiling had asked how far wo...

Please Please Pretty Please do you remember the post where I told you my mother's plan to meet a bigshot doc in a big-ho city? And I pre-empted the responses I was planning to expect? Well the Grand Union happened today, and the doc pulled out Card #4 in a mutated form. He phoned me up, and told me that he had been through the papers, and he would like to please meet me personally ( I am so shocked not ) and preferably bring along with me the fellow who plans to father the brood ( that will be tough, doctor ). The doctor apparently discovered that nothing major seemed to be wrong and also said something like: "...I want to treat you, not the papers..." ( clapping and lewd noises... ) And it appeared that my mother had managed to tell him how stuckheaded I would be at the idea of me making the pilgrimage to his shrine. I just told him that I would consider it, of course and yes, as of now, I have had a very hard time reconciling with the results of my oh-that-cycle in 2008...

A particular doctor in my current city is on a publicity trail, with photos published of women in her clinic who reported pregnancies through IVF in her clinic. Now, this is a big deal because remember, that I live in a city, where I trust docs only uptil IUIs, and I need to travel to another city for anything above that. I was happy, that such (professional) practice had begun in this city. I had forgone a chance in September 2009 to undergo IVF in this city , at the same doctor's. What I was a little ticked about was that photographs of the women who had conceived through IVF were published, and I think that this compromises their privacy. Nobody publishes photographs saying: " Hey, this woman had crazy s#x and is now knocked up .", but it was a matter of curiosity and novelty to point out women upfront who chose another not-so-hot way of conception. Maybe I latched onto that transgression because I am slightly more sensitive than a common person about what phenomenon t...

Scene 1: Thursday Night Hello? Yes, what is your weight? What? Why? Oh, I was at ABC’s. I was writing down your history. What is your weight? Duh…PQ kgs. Ok! Bye! --Click-- Scene 2: Friday Morning …some topic… …some topic… You were sounding too rude last evening. And hey, BTW, when did you check your weight? I don’t really remember exactly when actually. Then how come you know it is PQ kgs? I don’t. I was approximating. The first scene starred yours truly and Mummy. The second scene starred yours truly and Prince Charming. I feel bad for my mother sometimes. She is cracking her head completely fretting over her daughter’s trouble. But I also not want to feel like being discussed with everybody in her allied community. I know the colleague she had been meeting up was also into IF busting arena, but still. I did not want to sound rude, but the realization hit me spontaneously, and my irritation crept in automatically. It feels like an awesome Cardiologist is aware of his child’s heart co...