The rebellious teenager

Mommy(singing): Where is Ninni? Where is Ninni? Here I am! Here I am! How are you today Ninni? Fine thank you! Fine thank you!

Ninni(grumpily): NO fine thankyou!!

We are all the same

Outside M's daycare:

I saw a hunky dad in long hair, with a car seat in his hand, coming out of the daycare and I went "Oooooooooooooooh!!" *wolf whistle* (the wolf whistle was inside my mind)

Inside the daycare (as I walked in with M):

One of the daycare providers came out of a room with an infant in her arms and asked another "Did you SEE his dad??!!" and the other one went "Oh yeah!!" *wolf whistle* (The wolf whistle, I am sure, was inside their minds. It was definitely on their faces :P)

LOL!!

Note: J, I still love you and ONLY you. This was just one incident where my inner, primitive woman came out :P:P:P

I think...

...it is time I stopped blaming various elements from my past for ruining my chances at having a decent career and took charge of my future. What say?

But how?

I know I need more certifications (due to the lack of professional experience) to beef up my resume. I even attended a training in mid-august after which I could have easily cleared the certification for that technology but right around that time I got a job offer and had to join that job in quite a haste. I just got one week to put my affairs in order - finding childcare being the main one. Now my routine is hectic and I barely get enough time to cook, clean (some) and do some exercise. The exercise, I feel, is the most important and most required part of my routine. I need to get back in shape if I don't want to land with various ailments as I get older. My biggest fear is that I will develop diabetes if I don't lose some weight fast.

This is my general routine:

6.30 am - wake up. Get ready for work. Pack lunches etc.

7.55 am - Out the door. Drop S off at her school then drop M off at her daycare.

8.30 am - Arrive at work.

8.30 am - 5.30 pm - Work, work, work (and exchange a few emails with some friends)

5.30 pm - Leave for home.

6.15 pm - Get home. Start cooking dinner. Make and pack lunches for the next day.

8.00 pm - Go to the gym. This is an iffy part. Some days I can't manage to go.

9.15 pm - Get back from gym. Eat dinner. Watch a TV program (or half). Clean up the kitchen. Make list for the next day - what to pack in whose lunch bag etc.

10.30 pm - Take a shower. Check email. Blog. Clean up a little around the house if I am feeling up to it.

11.30 pm - Get in bed.

Repeat Monday to Friday.

Now the only time I can take out to study is the hour long lunch break that I get at work. Will try that. It is like a vicious circle - I can't get work if I don't study and I can't study if I work. And I can study only if I am earning something to be able to pay the tuition. What a mess!!

Privacy shrivacy

When I hear parents of young (even VERY young) kids talking about their kids' privacy, I choke on my own spit. I get the concept of privacy for certain things - like privacy when they use the bathroom. But there ARE situations when a parent might have to invade his/her kid's privacy. If I were afraid my daughter were falling in with the wrong crowd or were using drugs, I wouldn't hesitate in snooping around. To me, it is more important to have her well and alive on this earth somewhere, than to have her living with me and/or on talking terms with me. If I invaded her privacy for a valid reason, she found out and got upset with me, I'd live with that. But to suspect, not do anything and then to find out she made a huge mistake - I wouldn't be able to live with that. And of course, I am going to resort to snooping only when I have exhausted all other avenues of talking with her or having some other trusted adult talk to her. To me, that is love. Tough love.

So, what would you do?

What is the point..

... of keeping the treadmill at full incline and then walking as you literally hang on to the handrails? And of almost doubling over with effort because the weights you are training with are too heavy for you to lift?

The mistaken assumption of "more is better" I suppose.

Priorities

Edited to add J's comments at the end

Gas for driving 220 miles @ $2.27/gal (10 gallons): $22.70

Grocery for the next 4 months: $286.58

Bags carried from car to kitchen: 17

Hours spent driving from and to home: 3.75

Friends met: 2

Getting a haircut you will love to live with for the next 4 months: Priceless!!

Here is what J had to say about this post-

Gas price @2:79/gal (10 gallons): $27.90

Haircut : Looks good J

When you can't think of anything at all

Post Pictures!!

He he! Couldn't resist this one! She is pushing a weighing scale in front of her.

Off to middle school we go! S' first day of middle school.

Ninja! M wearing her sister's swimming cap.

In lehenga on Ganesh Chaturthi, pretty soon after her mundan.

Same dress, same day, different pose.

Simple suggestions

You tell your wife you like long hair?

Grow yours, by all means!

You want you and your wife to have the same last name?

Sure, take up her name!

You like pierced noses?

Get your own done.

Just some simple suggestions!

A fleeting moment

...etched in her mind. 

They are walking back from the restaurant, after having had lunch together. She shivers. There is a cold breeze. She has her coat in her hands, but was too lazy to put it on. He chides her for not putting it on, then extends his arm around her shoulder and shields her as best as he can. Who'll say it is soon going to be 14 years?

A fleeting, tender moment.

From "I lolue" to "GO AWAY!!"

We have come a long way. Now not-a-baby-anymore-M wants only her dad. Mom is under the "go away" status. Didi, who used to be under that status is now exempt from it because, frankly, what do you do when you want to avoid mom at all costs and dad is, say, in the bathroom? You go to didi, that's what!!

I don't know whether to be sad or upset at this. So I choose to laugh at it!

A recipe for disaster

I went to a women's clothing two nights ago. While I was standing at the counter to pay for my purchases, a sales associate returned with a driver's license and "returned" it to me. It belonged to the woman who paid for her purchases before me - she must have applied for their store credit card because that is when they ask for your social security number and driver's license (to complete the application). She had drifted away to look at some other things. Now, if I had even a little bit of criminal tendencies, this was a great chance for me to make away with that driver's license. Instead I refused to take the card saying it didn't belong to me. The woman whom the card belonged to probably didn't realize how lucky she was that I wasn't someone looking for easy money/credit. I could have simply walked away with the card and used it to apply for new credit cards or open new bank accounts or possibly empty out her current ones. I would have been at least one step closer to doing all that.

I always follow one rule when handing out a credit card or an ID card to someone - I keep my wallet open in my hands until I get my card back. It has become a habit now. If I have my wallet open in my hands (while waiting for someone to finish processing some transaction), it means they have my card. Recently this habit saved me from losing my older daughter's Insurance card. I had given it to the receptionist at a doctor's office to copy for their records. She got caught up with other work while I waited and only after I reminded her did she remember to return it to me.

So a little bit of gyaan in today's world full of identity theft risk - never leave your ID card unattended in another person's hands. DO NOT drift away while someone else is taking down your information from it.

To elaborate on my last post

No, I am not turning my blog into a Quotable Quotes repository. One - I was testing the post by email functionality of blogger. Two - I really had that thought in my mind for the last few days.

I have been through some emotionally tough times recently. Nothing drastic, just something that was a culmination of the medicines I am taking for various conditions and events that have happened in the last year. I had been feeling very down in the dumps, felt like something was pulling me down deep and keeping me there. Please notice the past tense in the previous sentences. I don't feel that way any more. Not all the time anyway. And THAT makes all the difference in my outlook on my life.

A few months ago, I was so blue I could find NOTHING in my life that was worth living for. I was, even in my darkest times, thankful for what I have - a wonderful husband, two beautiful miracles of kids, a great family including my mom and brother who care a lot about me. But even these positives couldn't overcome the shadows on my mind.

About three months ago, I stopped taking one medication that was adding to the depression - the progesterone. Slowly my emotional condition started to improve. Now I am at a point where I still sometimes get blue but those times are far and few between. And not as intense. While earlier I would get all engulfed into the darkness, now I skillfully tread the waters until the darkness dissolves. I had begun thinking of myself as a complete and utter loser. Now I think I will be a loser only if I give up. I won't. And that makes for the previous random thought.

The BIG difference between winners and losers is

that winners don't give up.

When the face is calm

the mind is in BIG turmoil.

One thing that bugs me about cooking shows

is that the cooks/chefs featured in them don't think twice about tasting a dish they are cooking and then dipping the spoon back in it. Ugh!! There is this concept of food getting "jootha" in India that I cannot explain properly in English. I don't know if there is an equivalent word in English. When someone eats from a plate, or tastes with a spoon, it is considered "jootha". Now if you dip that spoon back into the pan/pot, the entire pot is considered jootha. Makes sense to me too - when you put a spoon in your mouth, you transfer germs from your mouth/saliva to the spoon and when that spoon is dipped back into the pot, the germs are then transferred to the entire contents. I just don't think it is very hygienic.

Another thing I have noticed in some shows is that the chefs don't wash their hands properly even after handling meat. Another hygiene alarm. I don't think I'd be able to eat in their kitchen with a carefree mind!

Living it up...

..at the Great Wolf Lodge in Pocono Mountains, Pennsylvania. This trip is a birthday present for S but much needed for the entire family. Baby M (who isn't a baby any more, by the way) can't stop skipping. S gets her own room den. We have rented the Wolf Den Suite. What fun!! Photos to follow.

Happy Halloween everyone!!

Happy Birthday mah dahlin'

11 years ago, at this moment (in India) I was in the labor room. Eagerly straining waiting to see if I'll get my wish - a baby girl. I did!

Happy birthday darling. May you live to be... a hundred and three... and many more, many more....

I still miss you...

It's been a year, but is there a limit on mourning? Or a way of doing it? I have been quite easy on the mourning rituals. Celebrated some occasions (S' birthday, J's 40th birthday, M's birthday) and didn't celebrate others. I went with what my gut told me - if I felt sad upon thinking of celebrating an occasion, I didn't. Mostly because it was connected to you somehow. Like Diwali and Holi. You enjoyed celebrating them. I didn't feel like celebrating them with you gone. Even now, when the year is up, I am ambiguous about celebrating them. They probably won't be the same now. When you were alive, even with you thousands of miles away, festivals felt like festivals. I have often wondered how, when a loved one leaves us, the whole world seems empty. It didn't matter that you lived thousands of miles away and I got to see you only once every two years. You were here. Now you aren't. And the world seems empty.

On the positive side, I am not so afraid of dying anymore. I believe I will meet you when I do. And any place that you are in, couldn't be scary, right?? So I am not afraid of the other side any more.

I miss you.

You say to-may-to, I say....

po-to-to! No matter how hard mommy tries to get me to say to-may-to, I still call it po-to-to. We'll see who gives up first. Don't tell mom, but I think she is secretly enjoying this mispronunciation because I don't see her making that much of an effort to correct me either. Ah, but I take after her in stubborn-ness too. Maybe that is why she has kinda sorta given up on teaching me such things. Or maybe she thinks I am too little to be burdened with formal learning. I'll show her!! I already went ahead and learned to count from 1 to 8 all on my own. That should teach her not to underestimate me!

I know she stopped typing updates on me. Lazy bum!! Nothing gets done around here if I am not around to do it. That reminds me - mom and dad have been on my case recently. They just don't get it that I need to do everything by myself. Even if I can't actually do it. Like, opening a door. I haven't quite mastered the act of twisting the door knob to open the door but who wants to worry about silly details anyway?? I want to open the door myself and that is final!! Now, if you try to be helpful and open the door for me, I am NOT going to be responsible for your eardrums. OKAY? Okay!

By the way, don't you say anything about my hair - or lack thereof. Mom and dad are into things like mundan-shundan. Sigh!! I do miss my silken curly locks and that is why I used to pester nani to make my "choti". She was the only one who could get it done. Mom dad keep telling me I need longer hair for a choti but nani never made a fuss. She would strategically place a rubber band on my head and if I walked carefully, the rubber band stayed on my head and I looked really pretty. Once nani even put two rubber bands around my ears and boy, did I look pretty!!!!

Speaking of nani - she is THE BEST PLAYMATE ever!! And the best copy-catter! We played in the backyard together and I will forever cherish those times. I usually took the lead (you see, nani is a little shy) and showed her what to do and how to do it. She would promptly follow me. She is a quick learner for sure! We made up this game... well, actually I did. See, there is a rock in the far corner of our backyard. I made up a game - I would climb that rock and make weird faces and sing incomprehensible songs. The rule was that nani had to copy me exactly. She usually did, and even if she didn't who cared!! We had fun and that was all we cared about. Now nani has gone back to "Indie" :(( I miss her terribly even though I don't exactly know that that is what's happening to me. All I know is I feel weird and kinda cranky. I do sometimes ask about her but generally I busy myself with other things. She is back in Indie, I hear, and keeps asking about me. But so far I have refused to talk to her because I am mad at her for leaving. I suggested so many alternatives to her but she didn't listen. Every time the topic of her going back to Indie came up I helpfully told her "Roti banao" (make roti) or "neechey jao" (go downstairs - to play on the computer) - but she didn't listen to me :( Anyway - I understand. I just choose to be cranky about it.

Uh-oh!! Gotta go! The phone was ringing and mom picked it up without waiting for me to bring it to her. Gotta go throw a tantrum! Toodles!!

(Guess who? ?)

Are we teaching our kids only half the lesson?

Scene from about 10 years ago:

A little boy, about 4 years old, is sitting in the kitchen with a glass of milk in front of him on the dining table. His young aunt is sitting there too, with her glass of milk in front of her. They are about to see who can drink their milk fastest. Aunt picks up her glass and starts sipping her milk. The little boy protests "You can't drink faster than me! I want to be first". Aunt replies "So why don't you start drinking your milk?" The boy doesn't want to. Aunt says "You have to drink faster to be first. I am not going to slow down just so you can win." The little boy doesn't get this logic. Till now everyone he has competed with, has lost to him. They have even pretended to cry upon losing. The aunt would have none of that. You either drink fast or you lose. If you sit with your glass of milk in front of you, I'm not going to sit with mine waiting for you to begin! The boy cries. His mom is fuming and eventually tells him "Okay you can defeat me in milk-drinking competition. Let kaki (aunt) drink her milk". Matter ends.

I was that heartless aunt. J's nephew, the little boy. I was trying to teach him that in order to win at something we have to put in our best efforts. Maybe my timing was wrong, or the method needed improvement. I know for sure that I needed more support from the rest of the family in teaching him these things.

Even today, 10 years later, I see parents rushing in trying to make sure their kids excel at everything. Not too long ago, I wrote about a dad's valiant efforts to prevent boys facing defeat from a girl. I saw a parent fretting over their kid's presentation on the school's stage and watch them mouth the kid's lines in a play (isn't it amazing that they took the time to learn ALL the lines? I couldn't be arsed!) to prompt her to do better. What's wrong with that, you say? Well, teaching your kid to say her lines properly is one thing. Sitting in her face, prompting her for every effing line, with actions, while the play is in progress? I am sorry but this is stretching things a bit too far. Let her screw up a few lines for goodness' sake! Let her taste failure, disappointment. Because only then will she get the determination to do better the next time. And who knows? She might surprise you by remembering exactly how to say the lines. She won't gain confidence until she does it all on her own. Be there to help her. Teach her. Learn with her. But when the time comes, let her do what she has to do. Sit back and enjoy the show. Literally. If she messes up, fine! Make note of her mistakes and discuss them later. At home. NON accusingly.

It raises my hackles to see parents and teachers trying to make every kid feel special at any given event. "We all are winners for participating in this event". "There are no losers. Only winners". "You all are winners for making the effort". WTH??? I get it, I do, that kids should be encouraged for merely participating in an event. Winning ain't everything. But what about the poor winner (never thought I'd use the words "poor" and "winner" together) who put in extra efforts, who perhaps practised his/her butt off before the event? Don't put the losers down but at least show some appreciation for the winner(s)! It is this mentality of making everyone special that gets my goat. Yeah everyone is special. I am not denying that. But if someone made an ounce of extra effort and stood out among those special kids, please do make a little bit of song and dance about it. The poor sucker spent time and effort at getting better than other kids at something!

What I am afraid of is that these very kids, whom we are trying to help develop a healthy self esteem, will grow up to be over-confident brats with ginormous, inflated egos who think they can never lose because... well because they are specail! And when life serves them one of its lessons? When they lose out to someone a bit more deserving? Or even someone less deserving? (because that does happen) They will be devastated because failure will be an unkonwn territory for them. They wouldn't know how to overcome something they have never experienced or even dreamt about! THAT is why I think we parents owe it to our kids to let them taste a little bit of failure. We need to make our kids realize that life isn't always fair. Not everyone gets candy and a certificate at the end. And even if failure beats you down, you HAVE to get up. brush off your clothes and get back in the frigging fight!

And it isn't about only winning. It is also about learning from your mistakes. Improvement. If I step in and correct every mistake my child makes, how will she ever learn to check her own work and correct it if needed? At the event I wrote about in the beginning (play, parent mouthing lines), S forgot to bring along a printout of her lines for the play. I told her to figure out what to do. She said she'd ask her teacher if she could take another printout. They did have some time. I thought even if the teacher got upset at S for forgetting her lines, it would be a good lesson for her to learn. The teacher didn't get upset and just printed out the lines for her again (I guess she is more used to such things, being a fifth grade teacher). I think S did learn a little lesson. Two, maybe. One - to remember such things, and two - to figure out a solution instead of panicking.

All around me I see efforts being made to help kids succeed at everything. Nothing's wrong with that. My only grouse is that nobody is teaching them to lose gracefully. Unless you fail at something, you cannot learn to be graceful in the face of defeat. And unless you do so, you can't learn the WHOLE lesson that life has in store for you. If they fail, we rush in to heal their broken ego with kind words, telling them they are a winner for even trying. That winning or losing doesn't matter. All that matters is that one tried. All valid lessons in themselves, really. But not once do we tell them gently "Next time try a little harder and I am sure you'll get better at this thing." We are selling mediocricy so kids' feelings don't get hurt when they are 2nd or 3rd or 15th in the race. What is worse, we are not teaching them that more important than winning or trying is improving oneself. Doesn't matter that you were 12th in the race this time. If you practice, you might be 10th the next time. That will be an improvement. THAT is what matters.

God must be five years old

Only a five year old thinks seeing people get hurt is fun.

Only a five year old thinks seeing people fall and stumble is fun.

Only a five year old thinks piling muck on someone is fun.

Only a five year old thinks piling more muck on a mucky person is fun.

Only a five year old pokes you in the ribs and laughs when you grimace.

Only a five year old can repeatedly forgive you for hurting him/her.

Only a five year old doesn't demand respect and still helps you when you ask for help.

Only a five year old can love you unconditionally.

Yep. I think God IS a five year old!

This is for you, bro!

I am SO VERY proud of you!

With friends like this...

I got the much needed haircut this past weekend (yay!!!) I go all the way to New Jersey to get the darned haircut. I told GND my plans for the weekend in an email exchange on Friday. She asked me not to tell her if I decide to eat at Khaasiyat or Saravana Bhavan while I am in NJ. I did eat at Saravana Bhavan. Idli, Dosa and yummy Philter Kaapi. Well, since I am such a considerate friend, I won't tell her. 

I'll blog about it here instead.

And leave her a link.

Mwahahahahahaha!!!!!

Happieee... deeey

as you say it, my not-so-little-anymore little one! Or, in our words, Happy Birthday. 

You are two today. You are fun. You are active. You are headstrong. You are a pleasure to have around except when you decide to be utterly disagreeable to anything and everything. Then you want to have nothing to do with us, and we are only too happy to oblige. Then, when you have had some time to yourself, you revert to your happy, sunny self. Or maybe not. I can't believe how chilled out we have become as parents! Your tantrums in public places don't embarrass us, your screaming fests don't faze us and your occasional hunger strikes don't send us into panic mode. We know you will eat when you want to eat and that is fine by us. You go to sleep without any fuss (most of the days) by yourself and that is the best habit we think you have. And of course, we proudly accept all credits for that! You wake up happy and sometimes let us  grab some extra shuteye on weekends by playing quietly in your crib until one of us stirs. That consideration itself is a reward enough for all the tantrums you throw otherwise.

You have suddenly started speaking in 2-3 word sentences. You have started speaking clearly too, though I am trying my best to have you keep your baby language. Kakkay sure sounds way better than Thankyou, you know. And that reminds me - you are such a well mannered child at least when it comes to thanking people. You even say "kakkay" in your sleep when we cover you with your blanket on chilly nights. You just recently started saying "owwy" (sorry) when urged to do so, dropping all your reluctance and overcoming your ego, you little diva! And about 4 months ago you put my fears to rest when you stopped being in a constant competition with your sister. I used to worry that you two will grow apart emotionally due to the brattiness you constantly showed to and against your older sister. Now you seem to have accepted her as a part of the entire package :P

You like being independent and who are we to resist a blessing in disguise? Yes, it means you insist on buckling yourself into your highchair while we tap our feet impatiently. But it also means you clean up after yourself most of the times. Or help with the cleanup. And that you drink most of your milk without parental supervision and eat most of your food without us having to shovel it in your mouth. "Most" being the keyword here. I wouldn't mind feeding you the entire meal because, truth be told, that would be infinitely faster but I firmly believe in preparing my kids to be progressively independent. It is a good thing for both of us that you agree.

I loved the days when you started calling me "Mai". And I love how sweet "Didi" sounds coming from your mouth. I feel blessed when didi (older sister) replies in an equally sweet voice to your calls, no matter how busy, rushed or upset she is. I hope this love and bond between you two grows each day and stays long after we are gone.

You find it funny to run away when we are trying to take your picture. Or when we are trying to change your diaper. Or when you need a bath. In short - running away is GREAT FUN to you :) And you love gardening with us. It is another matter that gardening, to you, means picking up soil from one place and dumping at another, or poking fingers into leaves. Well, at least you don't make appetizers of the earthworms :P You love sneaking into your sister's room when she is away at school. I love how you pick one of her stuffed toys out of her ample stash and run out of the room waving it victoriously over your head. I also love how you put things back where you picked them up from if we ask you to "put it back". Even super-tempting knick-knacks you find in your sister's room.

There are way too many things you do, say and enjoy for me to list here. I'll just say that I am enjoying life with you. I am living in the moment. All of us are. We can't even begin to imagine what we did to pass our time before you came along. We can't remember who what we laughed at or spoke about. You have filled our lives with fun and laughter to the brim. We all love you darling. Happiee deeeey!

All it takes is a few words

She brought up an interesting point in this post. I have been meaning to write along similar lines ever since I lost my dad. This just brought that need to blog about my observations and feelings to the surface.

When Pa died, many friends and family rallied around us to provide support. Even strangers wrote to offer condolences. For that I will be eternally grateful. But many others chose to stay quiet. Many friends and relatives chose not to call me or my mom. Maybe it didn't occur to them, or they didn't know what to say. A childhood friend didn't visit me or mom for days. He came just a couple of days before I was to leave. Only one of J's cousins took the trouble to find my number and call me to offer his condolences. The rest, even though they knew my dad had expired suddenly, kept away. Even some close (so-called) family members haven't said even two words to me about it. Yet. That hurt me deeply. Still does. I have always maintained - don't keep in touch with me during good times, I'll still remember you and be your friend. Avoid calling me during tough times, when you KNOW I am going through them, you lose me. On the other hand - I will forget every wrong you have done me if you extend that helping hand or lend that listening ear in times of need. Selfish, I know. But that is how I am.

I have observed that we Indians (in particular) are experts at avoiding discussions about our loss. I needed to vent my feelings of loss. I needed someone to talk to. I desperately needed to cry and let it all out. But no one would let me. Anyway, thank God for J. He let me do all of the above. When I came back, I noticed that friends always paused for a second if I mentioned anything funny about my dad or the fun times we had when we were little, or even anything about his sudden demise. Maybe they took the time to figure out how to respond - laugh when it is certainly time to grieve?? Will I take an offence? Would they say something inappropriate by mistake? I did appreciate this thoughtfulness on their part but a part of me wanted for someone to come up and share their memories of my father. I wanted to feel that connection. I know it was too much ask of friends who probably had never dealt with this situation ( a friend losing a parent suddenly and tragically).

In the days following immediately after Pa's death, we (Ma, my brother, cousin, assorted uncles and aunts and visiting friends) would frequently bring up fond memories of Pa and laugh about them. Somehow it felt cathartic. It felt like we had lost him but the memories will be ours forever. 

This is something I have noticed - humor makes you heal faster (after a loss). In Jan 2006, when I had to undergo an MTP, I was devastated. I would cry all the way on my drive to office and back. I would cry all day IN office. I would cry myself to sleep oftentimes. I still feel a twinge on or around September 3rd - the would-have-been due date. Even after I have had another baby, I cannot forget the one I lost. I don't think any mother can. But slowly I started making occasional light comments. e.g. I told one friend what a total waste of labor pains it had been when the Tylenol I took didn't work and I could feel every contraction that was being brought on by the drugs given to induce a miscarriage. [Really - the contractions felt like labor pain. The only difference was that they were limited to a very small area compared to a full-term pregnant belly] It is then that I realized that I was getting over that loss a little bit. 

Now, even before MM wrote her post, I had figured out why people behaved the way they did. Loss makes them uncomfortable. It brings them face-to-face with their own possible loss. Or maybe they don't know how to comfort the grieving party. Or they are afraid they'd say or do something to hurt the feelings of the person suffering the loss. I don't always know what to say to the near and dear ones of someone who has passed away. But that doesn't stop me from picking up the phone. I recently lost my Bua. It was tough finding the words to talk to my phupha about it so I just cried with him over the phone. What I mean to say is - if someone you know has lost someone or suffered a misfortune, don't stay away even if you don't know what to say. Just be there. That will be enough. Or say how sorry you are for their loss. Or, if words fail you, send a card or an email. I know emails are considered rude but when I wrote about Pa's death, I received a number of emails from people I didn't even know. They just read my blog and took out the time to write a few lines. That gave me comfort and strength. Made me feel I was not alone. In tough times, I would take an email from you any day over your silence. Anything that shows me that you care.

MM wrote about miscarriages in particular. But her commenters added death of children to that list. And I am adding ANY kind of loss or misfortune. Because I have seen that people do hesitate in discussing loss. The day I announced my pregnancy (at another friend's baby shower - I was showing already) and mentioned that I conceived through IVF, a hush fell over the table. I don't blame anyone for that. People just aren't used to sharing such details. Infertility treatments, I assume, carry a stigma with them (from the way I have seen people react to the mention of them back home). I don't know why. Why anyone would object to, or turn their nose up at, a means of getting that sweet, cuddly baby when all else has failed, is beyond me. Maybe, going through the process has given me the required shamelessness. I still remember the silence at the other end of the line when I told a friend about my pregnancy over the phone and mentioned that the IVF procedure had taken a toll at me mentally and physically. Thankfully no one was insensitive enough to suggest that I hadn't done enough (like stand on my head?) to conceive or that I couldn't conceive because I had delayed getting pregnant. I would have bashed their head in.

When, after the first round of IUI, I conceived we rejoiced. And told our family. And then during the first ultrasound we found no heartbeat. We actually found nothing. There was a black void where the fetus should have been. The gestational sac was a black, disintegrating emptiness instead of being a round gray/black/white image of a peanut pounding away like a horse running on a wooden deck. I remember I had subconsciously realized that things were not right a day before. I woke up and realized, with a start, that I hadn't gotten up even once during the night time to go to the bathroom and that I hadn't been feeling dead tired for the last 2-3 days. My heart sank and then the fears were confirmed in the cold ultrasound room the next day. 

All I remember from those days now is the people who rallied around me. Who provided comfort through their words or actions. The HR Director of the company I used to work for, poked her head into my office one day and said "I admire your courage" (I was trying to work through the labor-like contractions that were induced by the drug for MTP. I took it on a Thursday, expected it to start working on Friday and be done with everything by Sunday. Didn't happen that way - I had to take another dose on Monday). What I mean to say is, the littlest of gestures during some one's tough times goes a long way. So, don't hesitate. Pick up the phone or reach out with that hug. 

When I finally conceived after the second IVF and we had confirmed that the fetus was viable at the 8 week ultrasound, we were still scared to celebrate. We didn't tell anyone for almost three months. But then I realized that even if this pregnancy failed, I would like to have celebrated it while it lasted. Because I WILL mourn it for the rest of my life if it failed. So J and I went out for  a movie and dinner. I wanted to shout out from the rooftops, but I was too superstitious after my previous loss. If I had to do it all over again, I'd tell close friends from the beginning. Because a hard-earned pregnancy, however short lived, deserves to be celebrated.

And remember humor? I used it throughout this pregnancy. It helped keep me sane otherwise I would have died of worry. I told people I had to undergo IVF because we had been diagnosed with idiopathic infertility - that is when idiots (like us) who already have a child, can't conceive (because they forgot what to do!) I demonstrated how I used to take my IVF shots (Close eyes, Point, JAB!) because, even after 300+ IVF shots I gave myself during two IVF cycles, I was (and am) still scared of needles. I used to joke that I would make a lousy junkie. All this (and J and support of friends and family) did help me get through all that. But most of all, through ALL my losses and misfortunes, the thing that has carried me is my friends and their support, J and HIS support and love and support from my family. 

So don't hesitate - do call and say "I am SO sorry for your loss" if a friend needs to hear it. I know, I still hold a grudge against some people who didn't, and then (4 months) later tried to cover it up by saying something lame like "oh yes - I heard about your dad. Sorry, huh?!" in the middle of some other conversation. Or "I would have called you but I didn't have your number". The same person magically found our number two weeks ago when she needed us and called us at midnight. DUDE!! At least show some compassion by either saying it sincerely or keep your trap shut! Oh well. At least they are better than people who didn't call me, not even on Diwali which was SUPER tough for me emotionally, and then complained that I didn't call them on Diwali or Hindu New Year. Yeah riiiiiight!! I am SO sorry for being so rude. NOT! Why am I writing all this here? Because it is my blog? To finally get rid of the hurt that comment caused.

I know I have rambled. I won't apologize for it. I needed all this to come out. I would have loved it if I could make a coherent and sensible post out of it but oh well!!