The ABC of W - Weight, during P - pregnancy and post partum

It goes without saying, that fat and weight are my number 1 enemies. I hate those bastards. But, like they say in good old Indian English style, what to do only, I am like this only.

I am glad to report that I have managed to knock off all of my pregnancy weight!  A LITTLE WHOOP WHOOP FOR ME, PLEASE!

Now, anything else that I manage to do, in terms of my weight, that is, and not my sanity (which, on a separate note, I should add, that I have already lost), will be a plus point. I've knocked off two whole dress sizes. But, I am still fat, if you go by my weight and my height combined together, that bitch of a lethal combination called BMI. ( In my dictionary, that stands for Bite My Innards).

Anyhoo, I've been thinking, my whole life has been about this fat and trying to get rid of it. Not once, can I recall that I've actually managed to sustain that weight loss. It's not because I stuff myself like a pig to bloat back again, but something happens that leads to the weight gain. Sigh... 

Sooooo, to put things down into perspective, here's the ABC of W - Weight, during P - pregnancy and post partum

A -ALMOST

You will manage to lose almost all of your pregnancy weight, one fine day. But that last sticky pound or two refuses to go, and it keeps getting you down. Bloody rascal, that last pound! Or, in my case, 10 kgs of non-pregnancy weight, because I was a fat person to begin with! Can't blame the baby for everything! sigh!

B - BOTHER

One fine day, you will also start to bother about the weight. If you are one of those, who started gymming in less than a month's time post partum, then, good on you! I would probably stay away from such folks, because they make me look lazy! 

C - CLEVER CUTS

They will become your best friends during your struggle with the weight loss, because nobody wants to dress in a tent when you yourself are a tent! Smart silhouettes, stuff that wraps around your jelly belly, those will be on your wishlist and shopping cart on all your shopping apps! TRUST ME! Nothing hides that wobbly fat better than a smartly cut shirt. And, boy, that tummy does wobble a lot in the early days! You will wonder why you still look 5 months pregnant, even though now that the baby is on the outside!

D - DREAMS

You will have two kinds of dreams. One, where you dream of becoming all slim and trim and sexy legs, strutting it like you know it.

Two, in case you have managed to become thin, you will dream of food. Because it takes a good goodbye to food that you gulped down during pregnancy, to knock that weight off!

In my case, please make that dreams of cheese!

ALSO, DIET

This gives me the jeepers creepers!

 

E - ELEPHANT or EXERCISE

Again, only two possibilities. If you knock the fat off, you are the latter. Else, join me in being an elephant, or at least, feeling like one. I don't mean to bruise your ego, but I had days where I really felt like one.

Otherwise, your life will be centered around exercising and maintaining that fabulous shape you've managed to get into! 

F - FAT, WHAT ELSE

Need I say more?

G - GREAT

Great! You've managed to knock off all your pregnancy weight. Now what? The tougher part is to maintain it. How long can we survive on tasteless food that has to be eaten before 7 pm?

Also, GUILT

Guilty about eating what you ain't supposed to. It will kill you!

H - ERMM, HELLO?!

Errm, okay, how did those 2 kgs suddenly show up again?! It's that cheese you ate, hoping that it wouldn't show up! Well, it did! bwhahahah! I hate cheese. I love cheese.

I - IF AT ALL...

...you do manage to stay in shape, firstly, pass me those tips. Secondly, your life will take on a new meaning, because nothing lifts your spirits like good old weight loss. The sun will shine brighter, the days will be more beautiful, you will generally be a happy person. Give yourself a hug! Now, go clean that poopy diaper from the poopy bum of your little miss sunshine!

J - JEALOUS

I am officially jealous of you. And all those fellow mommies who've got their figures back. I love my body and what a glorious thing it did by giving birth, but man, IT'S A SHIPWRECK!

K - KICK THAT WEIGHT

Honestly, it's all about how your mind takes to weight loss. No matter how hard we kick and squat in the gym, it's what on your plate that counts. It feels amazing when so many people ask me what I did, I feel so humbled. But, I do tell them I do have another 10 to knock off. More importantly, I have had to really train my mind about what to eat. And, that is one emotional journey, to say no to food that you could die for.

L - LOVE

Somewhere, during all this time, you will probably also manage to love the new you. You will happily embrace it, because you aren't so short sighted like I am. I have  my own issues to deal with, so I'll happily take that short sighted perspective and continue with my life. Good on you, though!

M - MANAGE

How do you manage to take out the time to exercise, that's the question. With the constant feeding, peeing, pooping, the sleepless nights and days. The last thing you want to do is take out your planner and figure out that at 18 hours you will go for a walk. The reality is, in all probability, your baby will wake up from his nap at 1759 and start howling just when you were about to tip toe out the door! Bye bye walk, have fun without me!

N - NONETHELESS...

...life will go on even though you are still fat. Your baby will grow up too quickly, you would have joined back office too quickly. Weight loss will come and go, but those precious moments with your little cherubs make it all worth the jelly belly and the big fat thighs!

O - OOPS!

You ate after 7pm yesterday. Or ate too much! Or, ate dessert yesterday. And the day before! You naughty momma!

P - PIZZA

Ahhh, the love of my life, my BFF! How do I say no to thee? How do I offend your love for me and send you packing out of my life? Does adding a lot of veggies on you justify the lust? Thin base is better? Whole wheat, then? sigh... no? 

 

Q - QUESTION 

Am I too fat? Am I fat? Am I fatter than her? What about her? Surely, I am not THAT FAT?! C'MON! BE HONEST! I won't say anything, I promise. Yes, we can have sex tonight. Now, be a buttercup, and tell me, how fat am I, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the fattest I cam be?

DID YOU JUST SAY 11? ELEVEN? E-L-E-V-E-N?! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?! *&^#(#$)($*@_$@&!!#

I AM GOING TO MY MOTHER'S AND I WILL SEE YOU ONLY WHEN I FEEL LIKE LOOKING AT YOUR FACE! 

Have fun tonight!

R - RESISTANCE POWER

The mind is a strange thing. I look at stuff I am not supposed to eat and I keep telling myself, NOOOO NOOOO NOOOO, OKAY? JUST PLAIN NO!

After a few seconds: What's one bite going to do? I will eat like those models, you know, just taste it and spit it right out!!!

A few more seconds, and post one bite: OH MY GOD! I COULD CRY! WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING TO MYSELF, SAYING NO TO YUMMY FOOD?!

NONONO, I MUST NOT. NO

THEN: It's just another bite! Surely, 2 bites won't add to my ass!

BEFORE I KNOW IT: What did I just do?! I ate the whole damn thing! God will curse me, my trainer will curse me, my conscience will curse me! You are a horrible looking fat woman who should die! Sigh...

S - SEXY MOMMA!

That's right! We can be sexy even with the weight! Round is a shape and we are in shape. So what if that shape comes in XXL size and 40DD lingerie?!

T - TOO TIGHT

Your clothes, that is. Pre pregnancy won't fit. Maternity ones make you look like a tent. New ones are too expensive to buy! Plus, you will get back in shape pronto! So why waste money on new clothes?!

U - UNDERMINE

Don't undermine the power of exercise, the size of your dinner and the resistance power and metabolism of that fellow mommy next door!

She did it because she exercised, ate too little and before 7 pm, and knew when to say no to food and what kinds to say no to.

V - VOLUPTUOUS

Refer 'L' - The new you will be voluptuous, of course! Pregnancy does make one a little wobbly and it expands your body structure, those bones and those muscles. Think of it as a free renovation you underwent. Because it's free, you obviously don't like it!

W - WEIGHT, OF COURSE

'NUFF SAID!

X - X-RAY

Weird X-ray reports will spook you, like mine did. Mine showed deposits of fat on certain organs. Apparently, it's okay at a certain level, but to me, it spelt death. Like I said, SPOOOOOOKY!

Y - YES, YOU CAN!

It is possible. It certainly is. Some find it really easy, others like me, really struggle. But, it can be done. Maybe the last 2 kgs will never go, but you have a baby to show for it. It's not that bad!

Z - ZEAL

It takes zeal, I tell ya! To hit the gym/track/pool, whatever regime you've got yourself going there, everyday. It's tough. Some days, you are tired! Heck, most days, you will be tired! You have a baby to take care of. And those cuddle monsters aren't easy to handle. You will probably have a yoga session without even realising it!

You must be making 7 course meals everyday! - Things you should never say to a Stay At Home Mom

Life has its own way of getting back at you. It bites you in the bum when you least expect it. Things that you thought of, plans that you made,  all of those go out the window when you least expect them.

Motherhood wasn't how I imagined it to be. I KNEW that it's not exactly a smooth journey, I knew that no two days are alike, and I certainly knew that it takes a lot of patience to be a mom.

If things were to go according to my plan, I would have been a hot yummy mummy right from the start. But, the reason this blog exists because, I AIN'T ONE! At this point, I have managed to knock off all of my pregnancy weight, but I am hoping to make the best of this spree and lose some more.

In my world, I would also have been a working mommy. But, here I am, changing my status on Facebook and other social networking sites and telling the world that I am a stay at home mom. To make it appear cooler, let's call me a SAHM.

As a SAHM, there's whole lot of things I COULD DO. HELL, I WANT TO DO! But, the 'M' in the SAHM means that I have no time for myself, because all of my living energy is spent running behind and taking care of little P. Of course, this is true of all moms, whether they work, or stay at home. Call me lazy, but I do like to use this as an excuse for a lot of things!

But, what gets my goat is the fact that a lot of people tend to think that just because I am a SAHM, I have all the time in the world to potter around and generally do things that I would like to do.

I've come across so many random and unwanted comments about my SAHM status, I am thinking, "let me tell everybody I've got a job that pays me shit loads of money and that from now on, I am going to work everyday and little P can grow up with me on the weekends!"

I would like to see how these very comments take on all judgy pants proportions and these same people would then talk about how well dressed I am and how my little boy is so royally ignored just because I spend all my time playing dress up!

Lesson learnt: THINGS YOU SHOULD NEVER SAY TO A SAHM

1) Oh wow! I am sure you get lots of time to make food from scratch, even 7-course meals everyday!

REALITY: I do have lots of time, although, I do wish I had some more. And then, some more. And more. 

REALITY: I do make food from scratch, where scratch means, 2 left over loaves of bread and leftover curry. 

REALITY: I could make 7-course meals, I probably even know how to. Except that it would take me SEVEN MONTHS to put that meal on the table for you to eat. Would you?

REALITY: The only meal(s) I do manage to make are the ones that little P eats, that too is possible with me trying to work with one free hand, the other trying to balance him on my hip, where he's glued all day everyday. Otherwise, I get him to sit on the kitchen floor and hand him an assortment of pots and pans, and then take 20 minutes to beg him to hand me something that I can use to cook.

2) Oh wow, you look fabulous! You are lucky you have so much time at home to look after yourself.

REALITY: Remember the hair?! It stays as a bun atop my head all day, in one place. It dare not budge, and I think that's because all the grease and the food that's thrown at me has decided to act as  glue for that bun of mine. Who wants hair mousse and hair spray?!

That wonderful smell I am giving out is also most probably stale food. Who needs YSL and Hugo Boss, eh?! There's little boss with his wiped off milk moustache on my tee to give off that nasal hair-burning stench.

3) At least you can sleep during the day...(while I work my butt off at work and get paid for it)

uhuh? Yathink?! So, here's what happened today: Managed to get little p to sleep at a time that I like, post lunch, you know, full tummy? Can't keep his eyes open anymore. I am actually smiling thinking of my award-winning achievement!

Anyhoo...

I had work to do, serious work, not the browsing kinds, on the phone, because I am too lazy to take out the laptop. zzzzz!

Before I realised, I had fallen asleep right next to him. 

Which is okay, but, the thing with breastfeeding babies/toddlers, is that they can smell you. Yup, which means, that when they wake up, for whatever reason, and if you are within breathing distance, they expect you to do your job of feeding them back to sleep, and not bother rocking them or singing a lullaby to get them back to sleep.

They are like, "Why are you even pretending that this is going to work and I will fall back asleep?! Just do your job, woman!"

Which is also fine, but, and here, breastfeeding mommies will agree, babies tend to wake up THE SECOND you fall asleep!

So, going back to your assumption, I would like to sleep during the day, and the night. But, I don't. Now, let's talk about how much money you make, poor you!

4) At least you don't have to buy expensive clothes!

Right. I do know lots of other people who would LOVE to be in PJs all day, and look like they haven't hit the shower in a million years. They are probably all me, in my gazillion avatars and are all called moms.

5) Your house must be so clean (I could see my face in those shiny floor tiles)

Yes, yes, yes. Everything shines at my place. The linen, the cutlery, the hardware, my face. Everything, okay? I am Cinderella and I have loads of time and inclination to go about scrubbing the floors and the china till you can see your face in it, all shiny, in your expensive clothes and lush perfume.

6) You should have gone back to your job when the time was right...

...because, now nobody will hire you.

Umm, because I would suck as a great employee?

Here's what today's in-house yoga session looked like!

Just like any other new mom, I barely have time to myself.

Having a shower that allows me to wash the soap off my body is a luxury, and so is having lunch, especially one that isn't interrupted by little P's poop time.

It's a thing with these babies, I tell ya! They can sense when their mommies sit down to eat, and POP, there you go! IT'S FUN TIME!

Cleaning a toddler is an amazing test of your patience. For some beautiful reason, they hate being cleaned. God only knows what they like about running around with a bottom that stinks and isn't washed. My god, the glee on their face is unmatched!

New moms, especially ones like me, also barely find the time to exercise. EXERCISE?! WASSAT YOU SAY?!

ME NO EXERCISE. ME ONLY EAT!

The fantastic thing about being a mom to a toddler is that you don't have to take out time to exercise! The constant running behind them sure burns a lot of calories. Not just that, there are a lot of other exercises you didn't know you could do, during your time running around like a screaming gorilla behind your little tyke.

Here's what my today's yoga session looked like. Pay attention, ladies, I got in some serious workout today!

1) CARDIO: ran behind little P post breakfast, all the way from the balcony to the washroom and back, just to clean his tush. Ours is a somewhat big place compared to the rest of Mumbai, and that's only because we live 15,000 kms away from downtown Mumbai and take 1 week to reach there. Or at least, that's what it feels like!

2) ARMS, WITH WEIGHTS: Lifted little P, who's a tad bit over 9 kgs, all the way to the bathroom to get him to bathe. Once done, lifted him out again, to a warm bedroom to wipe him. He has this habit of running out of the bathroom naked, all wet, and slippery and shedding water like a dog. Runs out all the way to the balcony, to show the world that he's had a shower and the 30 kgs of dirt that he had beneath his finger nails and under his neck is now clean. Only to get dirty 20 seconds later.

3) SIT UPS, IN TWO SETS OF 20: Giving a bath to little P is no mean task. He loves having one, only and only if the water is running, because, what do you know, he's a Bollywood heroine who loves splashing in water in a transparent chiffon saree!

So, the task involves setting up a pail full of water for him to play with, while I sit down and stand back up again pouring mugs full of water over his body and attempt to bathe him. I am not too sure how successful I am in doing this, because he does look clean for a couple of seconds.

4) AQUA AEROBICS: In the bath, it is a ritual of sorts to dance and shake to some weird nursery rhyme, because, apparently, I look entertaining while doing this, especially, in the bath!

So, while The Lord of the Bathroom, little P, attempts to himself pour water over himself, I have to shake my booty to "I am a little teapot, short and stout". The poor fellow doesn't know that I do look like a teapot dancing like this in the bathroom.

I am somewhere scared that I am ruining him for life and scarring him, but I can't help it, because it allows me to give him a bath every day. Else, it's like being a mommy to a little piggy OINK OINK!

5) LUNGES; Potty time is exercise time. That is, his potty time is my exercise time, just to be clear!

My one hand is on his bottom, other on him, trying to hold him and keep him in place. One leg is pushed backwards, trying to keep my balance, because we are doing this suspended mid air. The other leg, is somehow keeping a firm grip on a packet of wet wipes, lest the little monkey grab it out of my hands and run amok with a dirty bottom all around the face and plant his bottom on the sofa!

6) THIGH BUTTERFLY: Nap times remind me of the World War. Only the guns and cannons are missing, though their sound isn't. Because a tired, screaming toddler is capable of screaming louder than the combined sounds of those two!

So, in order to get him to sleep, that is, when he isn't being fed to sleep, he needs to be rocked whilst being cradled. Bless my thunder thighs, that can take his weight and constantly rock for an eternity. At the same time, I get in some quick exercise for my arms too, because juggling him when he fights his sleep is a scene you don't want to miss! He will throw himself backwards, arch his back, head butt you, kick the crap out of your sensitive body parts, but you have to hold onto him, in case he injures himself, or worst, falls off the bed.

7) SOME MORE THIGH STRETCHES: I don't let go of my habit to exercise while sleeping during the night, as well. My little P likes to rest his legs ON SOMEBODY, because, you know, he was a maharaja in his previous life and is used to such lavish luxuries. He has one person on night time duty sleep next to him in such a manner, so that The Lord of Night Time Kicks CAN REST BOTH HIS LEGS ON MINE.

Therefore, every night, all night, I sleep with my legs extended all the way to the moon and back, just so he can sleep peacefully. And, who said they pain in the morning?! Oh no, there isn't an iota of pain!

8) DESI-STYLE ZUMBA: We spend our post lunch time doing desi-style zumba. Yep, we have to burn those calories that we didn't consume you see! because, while mommy was trying to eat, I did some poop-poop. And, once she was done cleaning me, she said she was in no mood to go back to her boring lunch, because mine was such a sight! She is so sweet, I love her!!!

And, so, I make her dance, all bhangra and hiphop and bootyshake, either to some weird Punjabi song that she repeatedly plays for me, or my favorite nursery rhyme! It doesn't matter, she still looks so cute and so funny, trying to move with so much fat on her, just like a mamma elephant!

Sometimes, just to add to her workout, I cry and cry and make cute faces, just so that she can pick me up and dance WHILE CARRYING ME! It's so much fun, I tell you! I know it's fun, because she makes really tragic faces and sweats a lot.

MY MOMMY IS THE BEST!

Why are women their own worst enemies?

Seriously, why are we our own worst enemies?

What is it with women not being able to stand another's happiness and gloating in the latter's tragedy?

Your "best friend" put on some weight? Aaha, time to celebrate with some wine, eh? After all, wine isn't one known to add to the pounds!

I have always had a battle with the bulge. Partly, it is the genes, partly, it is me. Okay, fine, a large part is me!

Even as a child, I was known to be the fattest one amongst all the cousins, and the Bengali ones smugly blamed the Sindhi side of me. Whatever made them happy!

Ditto, as a teenager, and then a working professional in my early twenties. It wasn't until I got married and moved cities, and actually, finally started eating right, that the weight began to drop. but then I got pregnant! HA!

Any how...

Why do we women make such derogatory, frivolous comments about our friends and acquaintances when they pile on the pounds?

This habit takes on epic proportions once we give birth. Giving birth is a blessing, and only we women can enjoy this, and I don't mean this in a sexist way.

It's just how nature meant it to be, and there's nothing we can do about it. Our bodies carry another person for 3 months short of a year, so is it not acceptable that there will be extra kilos, even after the exit of this little person?

Post partum fat isn't easy to get rid of. Some have it very lucky, Others, like yours truly, continue with the battle.

For some, breast feeding helps knock off the kilos, for others, it doesn't. A lot of women, in fact, tend to add on whilst breast feeding.

Does my weight bother you? I wouldn't think so!

Does it bother you that I eat like a pig? Or that I look like one?

If it does, then I have a simple solution for you: DON'T BOTHER BEING FRIENDS WITH ME! IT'S THAT SIMPLE!

Nobody needs judgemental people in their lives, least of all a new mom, who has her own emotional baggage to deal with. Her post partum weight gain is nobody's concern, except maybe her doctor.

Here, I recall such some very beautiful comments I have received ever since I gave birth to little P.

For the sake of not wanting to hurt anybody, I will try and refrain from being too specific, even though, I was horribly hurt when these comments were thrown at me.

Acquaintance 1: It doesn't look like you've lost weight! I wouldn't know, if you hadn't told me!

Then, touching my breasts... YES, she actually did that... it's these boobs, I tell you. They are
too big!

Err, okay, thank you, "FRIEND", for touching me inappropriately and then calling me fat in a nice way.

Acquaintance 2 (In a text message): Hey, fatso! what's up? How's are fat mommsy and baby doing?

Umm, not much. Just thinking of how to appropriately get back at you without being a complete B**CH and ruining our "friendship".

Somebody from the In-laws: Oh wow! She's become SO FAT! WOW, I MEAN SO FAT!

Hey, thanks, you really really mean and nasty person with no feelings whatsoever! May you drown and die in coconut chutney!!!

Somebody from MY SIDE!: How come you've put on so much weight?! Is something wrong?!

Yes, something is indeed "wrong"! I just gave birth! To a baby. not a bag of chips, you moron!

Somebody from the extended family: Why did you allow yourself to be SO FAT?! Oh, c'mon! Don't blame the breastfeeding and cesarean!

Hey, aunty! Isn't your own daughter like really really fat?! I mean sooper, dooper, really really sooper dooper fat?! For, like a century, even though she didn't breastfeed?

Fat aunty in the neighborhood: OH MY GOD! In real aunty-who-watches-too-many-TV serials-style: you've become so fat!!!

Yes, aunty! It's a shame that even though you've been walking in this very park for a zillion years, you seemed to have not shed a single gram. DITTO, YOUR VERY OWN DAUGHTER!

Friend: Oh, don't worry. I was also fat after the baby. I mean, I wasn't THIS FAT! NONO! I was 60 kgs, you know! OMG!

Me: Do I know you, you nasty woman with great genes?!

Look, mommy! Instead of milk, there's blood coming out!

The last time I checked, it had been 3 HOURS since little P had started feeding. Oh yeah, those cluster feeds, when your little monster can literally feed for hours on end, can break the hardest of human beings.

I know a fellow-mom whose little one once fed for some 14 hours non stop!!!

Me, I was so ecstatic that little P was feeding from me, that 3 hours seemed nothing. My doctor had advised me to lock ourselves in a room, no disturbance, put on some music to ease my anxiety over feeding and just feed feed feed.

So, in true nerd style, the ipod was always at the bedside, the room was always comfortable, there was a water bottle and a straw, LOADS AND LOADS of pillows to support me and little P, and just us.

More importantly, I had three soldiers literally standing on one foot, ready to take orders from a screaming me, every time I wanted something. Mom, MIL and the husband were equally happy that things were finally working for us, and ready to provide me with a helping hand and leg!

There was a flip side to this, though. Our little P, it turned out, was quite a biter!

Only a nursing mother knows how painful it is to be bitten by a baby whilst feeding!

Man! Do no underestimate the power of those gums. Teeth are overrated! A little nip is all it takes for the blood to start oozing out instead of milk!

I sometimes think, maybe it's a good thing that nature provided women with two breasts! I would be retired hurt from one side for days on end. As soon as it would repair, bam! The other side would get seriously nipped, and I would have to suspend feeding from that side for at least 3 days for it to heal completely.

Here's another beautiful thing about breastfeeding. If you rest a injured side for too long, you end up getting either engorged, or with block milk ducts.

And when I say that getting spanked on your bottom is probably a lesser pain any either of these two bit***s, I am right!

Mother of god! The pain, and the shivering and the fever that follow these two beauties, oh wow!!!

This one time, I was feeding from the nipped side, I looked down, and he looked like a little vampire! His mouth was covered in MY BLOOD!

I hadn't realised, but I had seriously "broken a boob", as they say. There was blood gushing out like a waterfall, little P had no idea had he was guzzling on my blood, and his torso was also covered in blood!

The emotional trauma of getting bit was too much for me to handle. This was a recurring thing for me. Every few days, I was heard screaming my lungs out, crying hysterically, rushing to the washroom to see the damage and eventually roam around the house with a smelly Tee-shirt that would reek of milk, because I would leak to the moon and back, during those rest days.

Apart from the biting, things were going okay, I suppose. But, there was a weird part: Little P was refusing to sleep. This was one non-sleeper. He just wouldn't sleep. He would feed for 3 hours, but sleep for 10 minutes, and wake up for another feed.

So, we continued giving him his top-ups here and there, but he kept dropping weight, until one day, we got him weighed, and he had dropped roughly 1.5 kgs. Which is like some 20 kgs in adult weight.

My ego was satisfied that breastfeeding was working, but this wasn't how I wanted it to work. The doubts and the questions were back.

POO POO IN THE POTTY, POO POO IN THE POTTY!!!

I have no recollection of how night 2 passed, but Day 3 arrived, and lo and behold! It was the day that we had to...

...Yes, yes, yes!!! you guessed it!

This was D-Day. It was time for me to pass the stool test and I was pooping in my pants (NOT). I had slowly managed to get off the hospital bed and start walking. It was a bit weird at first, this feeling of suddenly feeling so light without the bump.

Pregnant women across the world will nod in agreement when I say we tend to waddle as soon the bump gets a bit bigger and tends to come in our way from all sides. You see a woman who walks like a duck, but there's no quack quack happening? Yep, pregnant woman on board! Beware of us waddlers!

Our hips don't lie, as well! They tend to balloon thanks to the hormones or the cheese, in my case. So, we have no choice, but to waddle with all that fat ruining our centre of gravity and making us look like fat little ducklings unsure of where our next step is going to land!

Of course, the fact that you can't see your own feet because your bump and those boobs get so darn big doesn't help! Dammit, I can't see my toes!

Any hoo... I waddled around the room, around the floor, me and my big bum going quackity quack. In case you've forgotten, I also had my watermelons to carry around me, adding to all that waddling.

Give way. give way! Here comes the lady from Room 1, her bosom leading the way, and her bum following suit!

This one time, I was standing, whilst talking to a visitor, and before I knew it, a pool of milk had formed around my feet! I kept thinking I was sweating, because honest to God, I do sweat like a pig, and the husband and mother dear will agree, sadly. But, I look down, and this "sweat" was whitish in colour and I looked a bit dumb wondering what happened. Goofy me!

So, yes,,, The BIG P.

I am trying not to go into gory details here, but I was so nervous, I kept having loads and loads of hot water. Don't ask me why. I have no idea. I was as nervous as a teenager before his first kiss!

But, the water did its job, and Voila! So did I!

YES YES YES!!!

POO POO IN THE POTTY, POO POO IN THE POTTY!!!

When the doctor came in, I was so excited, I think I may have peed in my pants. I don't recall her asking me if I had gone, but I do remember telling her "I did potty in the potty!"

Again, I only remember her smiling and saying good! But, I am sure she must have been thinking, "Good job!", like she would to a five-year-old, because obviously, I was acting like one. I was so thrilled!!!

It was now time to go home!

Goo Goo Dolls give way to Gita, Ganpati and Gyaan

So, there I was, pregnant, albeit along with the damn polyp taking a free ride inside my uterus and possibly squeezing the life out of our rapidly multiplying group of cells, whom we were fondly referring to as "baby".

We had no idea where we were headed. Sure, our strong-headed combination of Tamil (also lovingly referred to as Madrasi by our lovely North Indian citizens of this country) spermatozoa and psuedo-intellectual Bengali ovum had managed to scare the crap out of the darn tiger.  But, the fact remained, that the polyp was weighing heavy on our minds.

The lovely specialised doctors we had earlier met suggested the big A word, but this was our moment, and we weren't ready to let some money-making knife-yielding coat-wearing robot take that away from us.

Phone calls were made to some friends and family alike, and we were nudged in the direction of a doctor who was to become our BFF for the next 9 months.

This new doctor was the miracle we were looking for and her words were the answers to our stream of questions and worried looks. To say that she was God-send remains an understatement.

Any how, mush and sob stories aside! Pregnancy completely changed me, or rather my personality. At this point in time, only our parents knew and 1 colleague and my boss knew.

Gone was the cool, suave girl/woman that I knew myself to be. I took to superstition like a moth to a flame. I started believing in jinxes, started covering up my stomach because I was scared evil looks would harm me and our baby.

Shocker of all shockers, gone was my itunes play list too!! bye bye Hoobastank and Goo Goo Dolls. Hello, devotional songs and audio podcasts of religious texts!

What was happening to me?! This was me, guzzler of tequila shots combined with pints and pints of beer! Driver of a super cool, green-coloured Chevrolet Spark, who only knew the 5th gear!

Coolness quotient be damned! I wasn't barren, I was pregnant, my husband would be mine till the divorce papers are not signed! Who cares about my  newly improved playlist. This was me, Version 2.0!

I should smugly add here that right before this point in time, I had managed to LOSE WEIGHT! Yes, me, whale of all whales, thanks to my adipose tissue-loving half-Sindhi genes, had lost 15 (IN WORDS, LEST THE IMPORTANCE BE LOST, FIFTEEN) kilos! chumbawumba! I was thin, you could finally see that I too had a waist and size 28 jeans could finally be bought!!! MOTHER OF GOD, I AM GETTING GOOSEBUMPS WRITING THIS!

Of course, good things and weight loss don't last forever. The Sindhi genomes were back with a vengeance and my bottom ( I won't say a**, since I am all chic and refined now :p) and other unmentionable body parts were growing at breakneck speed.

Gone were my days of eating frugally. My dear mother had moved base to our city then, and of course, in true Bollywood style, came to the rescue of her pregnant daughter's health. Rates of eggs and carrots were rapidly climbing in our neighborhood, thanks to the speed at which mother dear was buying them.

The baby seemed to be growing fine. Nothing untoward happened. How could it? Considering that I was walking at snail's pace and covering myself up like I was living in a bloody igloo, even though it was sweating hot here.

But knowing my passion for weird luck, there was some pretty scary news in store for us...