Home Beckons

We are off to India in two days. I am so looking forward to it. I never realized how much I missed being in India until the days to go home drew near. The thought of meeting my family and feeling the comfort and warmth that only being with them can bring, is making my heart smile. There is lots to look forward to. A wedding, festivals and weather which doesn't make me check the temperature every time we step out.

I am terribly excited for D too. She is going to be spend time with people who think she is the most precious thing. Moreover, she is going meet her cousins. She is going to have a ball and return thoroughly pampered and spoilt.

Stepping beyond

We knew we would put D in a nursery setup soon. Living by ourselves, without the benefit of an army of cousins for D to interact with, we thought it would be good for her. The added benefit being a slow introduction to life with Mama out of sight for a few hours. Moving to London just made that decision easier. First the quality of nurseries here is quite good and very actively regulated. Moreover, with no help to manage the house, there was no way I could entertain her as much as she wanted me to.

A month after we moved to London, I found out about the various nurseries in the area, mainly over the internet. I had begun taking D to story-telling sessions in the local library as soon as we moved here. I got a few tips from mothers there. I shortlisted a few and began visiting them one by one with D in tow. I also considered home-based care (Known as child-minders in UK) where a much smaller number of children (maximum 8, generally 4-5) are looked after by a carer at her home. 

After much thought and discussion with H we opted with a new nursery a bit far off (about 2 kms) from our house. A few things I looked for as I visited the nurseries

• Did the kids look happy? Did D look happy?
  
• Did the employees look happy?
  
• Was it clean?
  
• Were they flexible enough to feed or rock the children if needed?
  
• How committed was the manager? How did D react to her? Did I feel comfortable with her? Are the adults in charge paying attention to D or only interested in talking to me?
  
• Did the nursery offer half-day session? Many established ones only offered full-day care.
  
• Were there enough checks and balances to see that kids would be well looked after. Child-minders were out due to this reason. With only one adult in the house, you never know what goes on. Taking care of children is exasperating. Sometimes I feel like giving D one tight one. It takes all my willpower not to act on this feeling. Also as I feel this, I look at her beautiful face and my heart melts.

In the end we opted for the present nursery as it had fewer children so we hoped D would get more attention and would feel less overwhelmed. It also mattered to us that the person who had set this nursery up was herself managing it. It wasn't a job for her. It was her passion. Having worked in an entrepreneurial setup, I know what a big difference that makes.

D was taking to each place we visited extremely well. She would refuse to return from these visits. When we began the settling in process at her present nursery (lets call it W) I stayed with her for an hour on the first day. She went headlong into playing with the toys and other kids. I sat there watching her and feeling so proud. She is such a confident child. It truly is a pleasure watching her interact with the world as if it was made to order for her. Anyways, she paid no attention to me there. The next day I sat in the room for half an hour and then said bye to her and left. She looked at me as if to say 'Don't disturb me'. I sat in a cafe close to her nursery, and I was so nervous, I could not read beyond two sentences of the book I was trying to read. I had never left her like this except with family, who D knows and loves. In the end I gave up and returned earlier than in I needed. I found her happily playing. Whew! What a relief. She had been happily playing all the while. The next day I left her there for a longer time so that she could have lunch with all the kids. I returned to find her eyes and nose red. She saw me and started sobbing. Apparently, one of the kids had been howling his lungs out throughout (he still was when I returned). D had been happily playing for an hour and a half. Then the howling got to her and she started crying.

Once we were out of the nursery, she wanted to return. Whenever we asked her at home if she wanted to go to the nursery, she would nod her head vigorously. But once we reached there she would cling and start crying "Mama, mama." Seeing her cry like that was like a little stab in the heart. I would hang around outside the door to see if she stopped crying. She always did in 2-3 minutes and then would be fine afterwards. When I returned to take her home, she would give a little sob and put her lips. 

After the first few days, H started dropping her. After 2-3 days, she stopped crying. We were ecstatic, but I think the adults she was getting used to in her room went on holiday and that upset her. So the crying began again. She would only cry when H dropped her. Her nursery nurses said that she would be absolutely fine in a few minutes. But her crying really upset me. Everytime H called to say that she howled 'Mama, mama' when he left her, my heart would sink and I wouldn't be able to do anything and run off to collect her earlier than required.

Anyways, ultimately the crying stopped. I think it took 8 days for the crying to stop completely. I think it would have stopped much earlier had she been going for more days per week (she was doing 2 mornings a week), and if there had been no changes in the adults in-charge in her room. Just before she stopped crying, I had spent a lot of time the previous evening talking to her about the nursery and explaining the whole process of Papa dropping her, and how she should say bye and blow kisses and then go off to hug her friends and play in the water tray. I also told her that I would come and bring her home after she had eaten her lunch. I repeated the same thing as I got her ready in the morning. It worked like magic! Maybe I just told her all this when she was ready to stop crying anyways. Whatever it is, it is such a relief to see her so happy in the nursery. She is raring to go everyday and doesn't like it when H leaves for office without taking her to the nursery. When I bring her back home, she is happily singing and talking to herself. It gives me the much needed break to get other things done, so that on days that she doesn't go to nursery I can just sit with her at the window and hear her point to 'boughoy' (boy), geel (girl) and beeya (bhaiya)!

Thoughts on work

Today I went for a meeting. A meeting that was about me. After nearly 2 years it was very refreshing. I guess that is why work is important. It is a place that is about you and what you bring to the table. All other places it is a lot about how you are related to the table :) What I am trying to say is family will like you not only because you are good for the family, but largely because you are family. So a large part of self-esteem comes from making a mark outside of home.

Family is a setup that is so important to identity formation in the initial years. But later in life do you need to be out there to assert your identity? I don't know how generations of women managed. What did they derive their sense of accomplishment day-to-day? For someone like me, it is difficult to do that only sitting at home taking care of children, husband and house. For women, who are used to going out to work, does elf-esteem always take a beating when they take a break to look after their children?  

I am unable to write coherently as I am very sleepy. I thought I should put it down before the thought escapes my mind.

The only way to be

Today I received an email from a friend how inspiring my decision to quit work to look after D fulltime had been for her. It was a very touching compliment and I am very thankful for it. Another friend had written sometime back, how looking at D's pictures the first thought that comes to his mind is that she is a happy child. ...daughter of a Milk and Honey mother (this concept was given by a psychoanalyst Erich Fromm. According to him, milk symbolises the first aspect of love, that of care and affirmation. Honey stands for the sweetness of life, the happiness in being alive. He goes on to say that most mothers are capable of giving 'milk', but only a minority give 'honey' too. Hence the term 'Milk and Honey Mother'). I was so touched by his email that I must have read it at least 20 times. 

You know, people like us are used to feedback in our experiences in life. You write an exam, make a project, participate in extra-curricular activities etc, you have the results to tell you have done something worthwhile or screwed up. You work, you have colleagues, bosses, appraisals etc that tell you if you are upto the mark. Motherhood, on the other hand, just goes on without a comment. An extensive, challenging project without evaluation.

I have never stopped to think that I am doing anything great by staying home to look after D. I did it because it felt the most natural thing to do. I am thankful that I could afford to do it because we feel (I guess feel is the keyword) financially secure. H took on the responsibility of providing for us without us even discussing finances. 

I do (and did off and on) miss working, the opportunity to interact with like-minded people, getting out to get things done. But when I worked before D was born, I sometimes missed being able to just sleep in late and laze around, read books all day or visit my family when I felt like. It didn't make me chuck up my work and sit at home. We are always missing something or the other because we have experienced so much. It is the predominant feeling and thought that stay with you day in and day out is what counts. That feeling has largely been contentment. Amen!

Its now that I feel the urge to return to work very strongly. D goes to nursery and loves it. She can't wait to get out of the house with her father every morning. She goes just 2 mornings but we are being forced to increase it, she enjoys it so much. So work will happen too. All in good time.

Trying to be better

I realize I have been a very poor blogger. I spend far too much time reading and too little writing anything. That would make me a parasite, as per what I had read about the act of reading. I have been just feeding off others and creating nothing new. So, I have decided that I will post something everyday, even if its just a line.

I am tempted to end this post here as I have already written 5 lines. I will actually end it as the only way to get over a temptation is to yield to it! Thats 7 lines. Actually now its 8. Oh this can go on.

Celebrating..

Written on 12th Sep 2008

We celebrate H's birthday today. I don't know if he will cringe at this public post when he sees this when he checks my blog once in the next six months ( he just checked it last month).  Even if he does, I think he will feel happy to read all the nice things written about him. Or when he sees that I am dedicating 'Thank You' by Dido to him yet again.

Here's wishing you a very happy birthday and a great year with loads of fantastic movies, great books, enchanting new places and huge deals! And yes, D and I tag along in all these wonderful times that you enjoy.

Happy Birthday H. Thank God you were born. You rock my world.

Edited to add: I can't figure out why the date says 11th September. I posted it on 13th September.

Weekend in Paris

I am still little dreamy-eyed. Paris is like a dream. We just returned after spending three days there. I have longed to go to Paris ever since I watched ‘Sabrina’. It looked very beautiful but what really got me intrigued was this ‘I found myself in Paris’ bit. Not that I needed to find myself but don't you feel like just immersing yourself in something different and beautiful knowing that it will leave you happier and better. That is why I want to travel.

I am rambling. We covered some major tourist spots in this trip – Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Arc De Triomphe, Champs- Elysees, Musee Rodin. All are must-dos in our list.

Eiffel Tower looks much better at night with the lights. During the day, I found it to be awe inspiring but ugly.



We loved Musee Rodin. It does not have the magnificence of Louvre but it is more intimate. It speaks to you. Also managed to take a short Boat Cruise across the Seine. It was a great way to get a glimpse into the Parisian life. They really know how to enjoy themselves!


We walked a great deal. The Metro (rail) is good and well connected but the stations are not very toddler-friendly. We had to carry the pushchair up and down the stairs at all stations. I would walk anywhere but more so in Paris. I felt liberated as we walked without a care, talking about general stuff (mostly nonsense), all the while drinking in the beautiful architecture, lively cafes and streets full of character. I, the fool that I am, did not carry my walking shoes. I was soaking my feet every night to pay for that.


D had great time. Running around in the various gardens, chasing birds and trying to feed them her food. She would walk up to random strangers and extend her hand to say hello. In the gardens at the Louvre, she walked up to a gang of 4 women, put out her hand to one of them, pointed to us and told them that we were her ‘Mama’ ‘Papa’. Not content with just introductions sat down with a ‘thud’ to join in some girly fun with them. Her naps were also very well timed. At both the Louvre and Musee Rodin, she dozed off just as we were about to enter the museum and woke up as we stepped off. Thank you D!


The French are a little more difficult to understand though. Scowling middle-aged waiters make you feel apologetic for ordering food with them. One of them scowled and snapped so much through my order that H refused to order his meal!

I would love to meet you again Paris, notwithstanding a full plate of French fries that you make me gulp down in the name of Lunch!

Caesarean story

When I was due to deliver, I remember, how frantically I would search for these stories looking for information and assurance. I have always wanted to put down the story of the birth of my daughter. I have not done so, partly due to laziness, and partly due to my feeling of it being too personal to be put on my blog, which is not really an intimate blog. Today I saw this and I decided I must put it down because I am sure it will be of use to someone.

I had a hassle free pregnancy and was all set for a normal delivery, because I had done everything I could and nothing ever goes wrong in my life! I had been fairly regular with walks, yoga and practicing Lamaze breathing techniques (I had dragged H along for a twelve hour session). By the 31st week of my pregnancy, fetus was head down and I was all set. Then on 15th January (I was over 37 weeks pregnant then) as I lay on the ultrasound table grinning at H without a care in the world, the doctor says, “Do you know that your baby’s head is up?” It took me a while to understand. Then she repeated, “Its breech.” I looked at H lost and said to the doc, “It was already head down.” As the realization sunk in I asked her, “What does this mean, caesarean?” She said yes. And tears started flowing down my cheeks. H tried to console, the doctor tried to explain that its not a big deal and it is the safe thing to do but I wouldn’t stop and kept feeling bad for being so out of control.

My gynecologist also confirmed that its too late in the pregnancy for breech to reverse but they will anyways try for normal delivery as far as possible. I was beyond disappointed. After doing everything I could, I felt a little betrayed. Having read so much on virtues of natural birth etc, I felt as if I would forego an essential experience of my life and start my child off on the wrong foot.

After crying some more on H’s shoulders and moping around, I went into an information collection overdrive. I read up as many caesarean stories as I could. I decided not to look at the anti-caesarean articles, stories etc. There was no point now. Reading up on the positive stories helped me like nothing else could. A friend told me that she had had both and much preferred the caesarean. I was soon over my disappointment and was preparing for the birth of my child. I was not the one to give up though. I tried all those tricks that I read to help the baby turn. Tricks like putting ear-phones to the stomach and playing music (there would be mad bout of kicks when I did that), or putting my feet up on a plank etc etc. H was an amused party to them when I needed his help.

On 24th January I went for a check-up. After checking me up the doctor told us that baby was still breech and there was little chance of that correcting. She also advised us that we should go in for a planned caesarean rather than waiting for labor as complications may arise then. To this day I don’t know what she saw while checking me up that made her say that. My father, a surgeon himself, was completely on her side. I tried saying that we can wait till my due date but really my heart was not in it. I had prepared myself for a caesarean. I still wept like a baby (!) in the doctor’s chamber with the doc, H and Papa trying to comfort me. The doc said something like, the scar will be so low down and light that I can even wear a bikini later. That was some comfort!

A date was set for 3 days later and I lost my sleep. No matter how prepared you are, the excitement of finally getting to meet the baby and the anxiety over an impending surgery unnerves you. In response my dear fetus, who is now my darling animal-sound making daughter, went to a kicking overdrive. Especially the night before the c-sec, she kicked all night long and I slept for maybe few minutes. We were already in the hospital as the c-sec was scheduled for 6 am. H who had planned to stay up all night and wake me up at 4 am when the nurses were to come in for preparations, slept soundly. I lay awake excitedly waiting to meet the baby in a few hours. Yes, by now, all fears of a surgery were gone; the baby was all I could think off.

The surgery was a breeze. My doctor came to see me in my room and accompany me to the OT. She is a really sunshiny kind of person and laughed and joked with me as I told her how I had dreamt that my baby was reading a book (which was quite a prediction I must say, that is all that she does now). Anyways it was quite a party with H, mummy, sis, in-laws, bro-in-law all accompanying me as I was being wheeled towards the OT. I went in and the anesthetist staff set to work before the main anesthetist and my doctor came in. The anesthetist was lovely. She stroked my hair and told me I how cute and baby-like I looked. A fully bloated overweight pregnant woman just needs to hear that to forget everything else. Neotany and all that! It was a spinal anesthesia. I didn’t feel anything, not that I remember any of it. And as the surgery went on I heard everything and knew what was happening as I had read up so much on it. I was completely at ease. I did feel nauseous in between and told the anesthetist. They adjusted the oxygen and I was fine.

Before I knew it, I heard “It’s a girl” and heard my baby cry. Then they brought her to me. As she gazed at me with her bright eyes, I felt that hers was the most perfect face I had ever seen. I stroked her cheeks and said, “Hi darling. You are so sweet.” Then they took her away. I was worried that they would feed her something, but H was right at his job (we have it on camera) telling anyone who would care to listen that they should not give the baby anything before I got a chance to feed her.

Anyways, after lying in the recovery area (uselessly I thought) for quite some time I was wheeled out near the entrance of the OT where I could see H peering in through the small opening in the door. I blew him kisses! Yes I was not feeling the pain yet. The pain came at about noon and man, it came like a flood. I refused the painkillers as often as they were advised. The pain was bad that day and eased the next day. By the third day I was only feeling it when I moved. I was also able to breastfeed from the word go. I feared that I would not be able to breastfeed, as I had heard that having a caesarean reduces the chances of successful breastfeeding. My daughter had nothing else, not even water, till she was 6 months old.

The point of saying all this is not to promote having a caesarean. I just want to reassure all those women who have to have it, that it is not a monster and does not blotch motherhood in any way. It is not natural but it is also a lifesaver. My conclusion at the end of my experience is that just like doctors are accused of being scissor-happy I feel the natural birth brigade (of which I am a part) goes on an overdrive extolling the virtues of a normal delivery and condemning caesareans. This leaves women who miss the chance of a natural birth process feeling miserable and inadequate. Acceptance and mental preparation add greatly to make a caesarean birth as happy and celebratory as the normal one.

Provoked

I had written this post on 16th January 2008. I don't even remember the post that triggered it.

It gets extreme posts like this and this and this to shake me out of slumber and write something on my blog. The basic premise of these posts is that children are nuisance to anyone who does not have children (and does not like them) and a child's presence (unless it is sitting silently or talking in whispers) is torturous to people-who-do-not-care-for-children. Equally irksome are parents who think the world of their children and can't stop fawning over them or talking about them. Among various remedies suggested are - keeping children out of public places unless they clearly specify that children are welcome, leaving them with babysitters (and working really hard and sincerely to find a babysitter; inability to find a good one is deemed a lame excuse) finding a group of like minded parents to hang out with and talk about their kids to heart's content etc. etc. You get the drift?

I feel disturbed reading these posts. Since when did this world become the property of adults with children becoming just a source of nuisance? They cannot voice, leave alone write clever English to, fight for their rights. Don't they have a right to venture out and experience all that there is to offer? Why should they be left with babysitters? To coexist in a society we have to develop a tolerance for many things. Don't children negotiate the dangers that the adults are continuously inflicting on them - poisonous air, vehicles that impede their free movement outside of home, buildings that have been built keeping only the adults in mind....the list could go on. And its not like these irksome creatures are in a minority. According to the 2001 census almost 30% of the Indian population is below the age of 14. They have a claim to this world too.

A child banging her spoon on a restaurant table is not doing it to irritate you or attract your attention. She is doing it as the sound and her ability to produce that sound not only fascinates her but is also teaching her many things about cause and effect, differences in sounds etc. Just like how the words you write in your post fascinate you and how.

I realize that I am unable to write a rational post on this. I have always likes children and now when I have a child of my own, such thinking just gets to me.