The Pregnancy Diaries: Genesis

All of us love the 'how it all began' stories. "How did you two meet? Tell us how it all began. Did he propose?" No no he didn't; my next door neighbour with two wives and a stump did. Of course he proposed, begged and cried too; at least I'd like to think the last two were true. But I am not going to bore you with the story of how we met now, maybe another time.

Almost two years ago, while summer was just setting in, that 'time of the month' didn't come by. I was really really late and without even taking the pregnancy test, a little nagging voice told me that the oven was already baking a little bun. But I didn't want to believe it. So I took a pregnancy test, feeling quite nervous. The test showed two pink lines, which meant there was definitely a bun on the way. Still couldn't believe it; sometimes these tests can turn out all wrong and secretly this is what I was hoping for. Hubby was handing me out congratulations with a broad smile on his face and I looked, well, rather upset. Don't get me wrong I love kids and at that time, if the kids weren't mine even better. You just had to hand the crying baby back to the parents after having had a great time playing peek-a-boo and this little piggy with them.

There were two aspects to my emotion. One, it was totally unexpected. Everything that was supposed to be worn was worn. We could attribute this to a latex malfunction. Also counting back it should've been the 'safe period'; I think no such thing exists and the term was probably coined by a lazy guy who didn't want to get the rubber on.
Two, I had been up, close and personal with babies; I knew how they functioned. I had been there and done that, when you have 5 siblings it's difficult to not get involved. They poop, eat, cry, sleep not necessarily in that order; the crying usually precedes and succeeds the other activities. Bringing up a baby needs a lot patience, energy and sanity; all three attributes very questionable in my nature. So mine feeling upset was really not abnormal. See, already wearing thin on sanity.

However, just to be absolutely sure, I took the test the next day as well. And what do you know, the two pink lines promptly appeared. It was like the stupid little pee stick was mocking me; wanna go again sister, we'll be right here. So I made the call to hubby to tell him again that the two little pink lines had made an appearance and that I was definitely pregnant. He was not able to contain his joy. I think he was already thinking of hideous baby names, dreaming of an angelic quiet little bundle that he look at for hours, who'd catch hold of his finger and fall asleep in his arms. Clearly hubby had no clue what he was signing up for. He had probably seen little ducklings following the mother duck everywhere with the father duck making only a guest appearance. Probably it was the case of "someone else's kid" with fathers he'd seen, when the baby cries it is instantly handed over to the mother.

The next thing we had to do, to be triply sure, since we'd taken the home test twice, was to visit the doctor. I had some faint trace of hope that I was not preggers and that the home tests were past their expiration date; the pee sticks were probably snickering now; dream on sister. Once inside the doctor's room there were a lot of questions followed by a lot of prodding in the area below my waist. When it was time for the internal exam (which involves no pen or paper) I felt like I was punched in the guts, literally. I must've died for two seconds. Definitely not a great start to a "magical" pregnancy, I was just violated by a huge rubber gloved hand and it was legal.

Congratulations were in order again. This time I was undeniably, positively, surely pregnant. Now based on data provided by me to the doctor before all the pressing, jabbing and digging began I was now 8 weeks preggy. 8 weeks? I told the doctor that that was just impossible. On the date she suggested, to get the bun rolling, it would have taken a miracle like an immaculate conception or sex with a stranger; both not my style. Hubby probably threw me a sly sidewards glance, this doctor was making me look bad. I told her categorically that I was not in the country at the time and was also without my husband, so this was quite a preposterous suggestion. She seemed to laugh suggestively; I think my frown made it clear that I was not the swaying type; also one who had made it through a really long long-distance relationship. hmmph.

Sensing that my hormones were kicking in already the doctor quickly suggested that I get my first antenatal scan done. In the scan room there was some more prodding and there on the screen was this tiny dot; that teensy speck was my baby. Now these scanners are highly intelligent and can calculate a whole lot of stuff themselves. A report was instantly generated which was then handed over to my doctor. Looking at it my doctor said that I was 4 weeks pregnant. I told you I did not cheat.

When we went home hubby and I were looking quite fondly at the little speck; there was our baby. I had warmed up to this after all. On reading the report we came across the Date of Conception. Now what exactly was this doctor trying to prove, I thought to myself. The report suggested a date when I was in my hometown and hubby in Bangalore. Thankfully my hubby trusts me completely so no deep dive into the errant dates were necessary.

Until now this has been our great unsolvable mystery. So as to how it all began, we have no freaking idea.