It just happened on a random day. No one had the slightest idea. Well, i was supposed to go attend a wedding. Lets not forget the crazy shopping spree that i had been on a couple of days back. And i was late by about 3 days. Its highly unlikely that i pay a visit to my doctor's office if i m just 3 days late. Heck! any woman can be three days late. She may be stressed. She may have eaten more. She may eaten less. She may have become anemic. She may have been anything. Anything but pregnant that is. I still don't know why i even thought of paying my very surly very brainy super intolerant gynaecologist ( here in after referred to as Mrs.G). When the husband and i actually decided that it was about time that we popped our heads into her office, it was Thursday. The clock was ticking and we had about a week left before our hair splitting travelling began.
So on that slightly chilly and breezy Thursday, we walked in all cheery and excited about the wedding into the clinic. We had no idea that that particular Thursday would become a legendary almost epic kind of Thursday to us.Unfortunately for us, Mrs. G was cheering a woman who was in labor to push. We could hear about a hundred chorus cries of " Push Push" in a very muddled Gujrati. And when she came out, it was our turn in the blink of an eye. After all the niceties ( read it never happened) and the usual round of questions, she simply declared that she had to examine me. In i went, following her like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. I exactly did not have a choice, did I? I surely didn't want to risk the wrath of Mrs.G.
After poking and prodding me in about a zillion ways for about 10 mins, my doctor struck up a conversation that was very weird for her surly self. She asked me if i cooked? Duh! And then she asked me what my signature dish was. Double duh moment there. I answered her in no fewer words that i cooked and i made almost every thing well. Imagine me having this conversation with an otherwise surly Mrs. G in a small dinghy room, my legs spread wide and a monitor blinking away next to me. Well after all this, she asked me to simply go cook my man a good dinner. As if! and then she added, " you are pregnant". That s it. Just that statement. And she walked out. And congratulated the husband. Hello, woman! No matter how surly you are, you could have congratulated me too. I could have surely used a nice word or two.
If you thought that Mrs.G decided to let me off the hook a bit after the discovery, you are so wrong. When i was decent enough to present myself outside, i stepped out of that little room and smiled widely at both - Mrs. G and the husband. She only launched herself in to a full fifteen minute lecture on why i should not get excited about the pregnancy and how i should not be doing a million odd things to which the husband, as usual, heartily concurred.
I wont say i was on cloud nine when i came out.That would be so cliched. It was impossible even after listening to that lecture to stop myself from dancing. But I had to contain my happiness. My heart was already fluttering as though it had sprouted new wings just when i began to think of that teeny tiny being that had begun to grow in me. Doctors say it takes at least 20 weeks to feel baby movements. To hell with science. Once you know you are pregnant, you begin to connect with your baby immediately. And from then on, there s no looking back and you feel the little heart fluttering deep down in yourself. I ll tell you more about how my belly grew in the next few posts. Until then,
Love,
A
So on that slightly chilly and breezy Thursday, we walked in all cheery and excited about the wedding into the clinic. We had no idea that that particular Thursday would become a legendary almost epic kind of Thursday to us.Unfortunately for us, Mrs. G was cheering a woman who was in labor to push. We could hear about a hundred chorus cries of " Push Push" in a very muddled Gujrati. And when she came out, it was our turn in the blink of an eye. After all the niceties ( read it never happened) and the usual round of questions, she simply declared that she had to examine me. In i went, following her like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. I exactly did not have a choice, did I? I surely didn't want to risk the wrath of Mrs.G.
After poking and prodding me in about a zillion ways for about 10 mins, my doctor struck up a conversation that was very weird for her surly self. She asked me if i cooked? Duh! And then she asked me what my signature dish was. Double duh moment there. I answered her in no fewer words that i cooked and i made almost every thing well. Imagine me having this conversation with an otherwise surly Mrs. G in a small dinghy room, my legs spread wide and a monitor blinking away next to me. Well after all this, she asked me to simply go cook my man a good dinner. As if! and then she added, " you are pregnant". That s it. Just that statement. And she walked out. And congratulated the husband. Hello, woman! No matter how surly you are, you could have congratulated me too. I could have surely used a nice word or two.
If you thought that Mrs.G decided to let me off the hook a bit after the discovery, you are so wrong. When i was decent enough to present myself outside, i stepped out of that little room and smiled widely at both - Mrs. G and the husband. She only launched herself in to a full fifteen minute lecture on why i should not get excited about the pregnancy and how i should not be doing a million odd things to which the husband, as usual, heartily concurred.
I wont say i was on cloud nine when i came out.That would be so cliched. It was impossible even after listening to that lecture to stop myself from dancing. But I had to contain my happiness. My heart was already fluttering as though it had sprouted new wings just when i began to think of that teeny tiny being that had begun to grow in me. Doctors say it takes at least 20 weeks to feel baby movements. To hell with science. Once you know you are pregnant, you begin to connect with your baby immediately. And from then on, there s no looking back and you feel the little heart fluttering deep down in yourself. I ll tell you more about how my belly grew in the next few posts. Until then,
Love,
A
