Return of the father
Remember Steve Martin as a father/father to be in the “Father of the bride” films. I am not that character (played by Martin) to be hero in his late 40s with a pregnant wife of similar age around at home. But I have my share of travails as well.
Things are different in India now, compared to the times when I was born and before that about the roles of fathers-to-be/husbands. From my mother and aunts – what I learnt was that throughout their pregnancies, the husbands were at work. That was it. The husband only mattered at the time of the birth of the baby (and also at the beginning). Else he was just an onlooker in the whole setup. Times changed. Of late, since I started observing, the role of husbands is not what it used to be. Why am I observing all this? Because I am pregnant! No, there was neither a scientific experiment which went off well, nor am I Arnold Schwarzenegger. The age we are in, awareness, media, nuclear families, et al ensure that when the lady is pregnant, the family is pregnant. And so here I am.
The first baby came home even before the whole idea of having a baby could sink in. During the slight trouble we had then due the baby’s pre-term arrival, we were thankful for all the help from friends and well-wishers, some of whom we never saw. Didn’t dare for another one for sometime. After we spent about a year contemplating adoption, we just took the plunge.
I was thinking of changing my job to be with my family. This was after staying apart for 10 months and frequent trips to and fro were getting stressful. I must have felt that there wasn’t enough excitement in my life and so quit before I had a job in hand. Well it is only a job and not life one is quitting from.
Now I was pregnant and was yet to be told about my status. I was in for some exciting times. After I quit my job, I packed my bags and landed home one Sunday morning. It was one of those mornings, when the weather was pleasant with the onset of summer round the corner. If it is February, you got to be in Bangalore. Years ago, the chief excitement it contained was my birthday amongst other things like Vasanthahabba (Protima – that was a fantastic contribution from you to Bangalore!), trees shedding leaves and the onset of tabebuia blooming in full splendour in Bangalore. (http://www.hindu.com/2007/03/01/stories/2007030102430200.htm). Pleasant breeze hitting the face and absolutely traffic-free roads made rides around town equally pleasant. Now, back to where we were before I wandered off on the beauty of my town.
It was as if I touched down right in front of my home. Wife and sonny were thrilled no end that I was back in town. My wife sure has a sense of timing and broke it gently as I came home. “Well,” I said, “we are going to have a nice time this summer.” I liked my confidence. I was yet to find a job keep the hearth warm. We had saved a bit but not for sudden job changes during a pregnancy. I had gone to a new city with lot of hopes and came back with nothing else quite literally. My wife was sure we’d find a way to handle it and for sure, we did.
Okay, now we are well into the first trimester. One evening when I return from work, my wife wants to try out Jamun – it is a violet coloured fruit (Jambul or Syzgium cumini). We went around looking for it in our part of the town the next two hours, in vain, much to her chagrin. Now how am I supposed to be blamed for not getting the fruit? Finally, we found them elsewhere the next day. Couple of nights later, I wake up to face this question – do these fruits (I don’t remember which ones) have abortive properties? I didn’t know some fruits had them, leave alone their names. In the interest of domestic peace, I did some surfing at 5 am next morning to find out. Then I convinced myself that what was happening to me was normal. I am given to understand that during pregnancy one’s sleep does get affected.
One evening, I am asked to uplift the mood in the house and get to try my hand at humour. Given half a chance I grab a lot, much to the irritation of all my friends, family and used-to-be well wishers (how could they be after they heard the verbal diarrhea!). So I went ahead and 10 minutes later, my wife got a catch. I was in full flow and could not stop immediately. All of a sudden I am a person with no concern for people in pain. Then the little one starts off “Pops, why are you troubling mama?” And I wonder whether I’d entered someone else’s house or was it a dream.
After one of the early visits to the Ob/Gyn and the sonologist, I hear a voice that tells me that I am being a silent spectator in the scans/visits. As if I was waiting for a cue, motor mouth takes over. Now we are in the 3rd trimester, the Gynaec and sonologist are good friends, we do lot of small talk and the presence of my wife is incidental.
No husband worth his salt these days can say a pregnancy at home does not affect him. Many of my male colleagues find it difficult keep up with their work schedules during a pregnancy. Some of them have taken an out of turn vacation to ensure the right mood for the last trimester. I saw a fellow husband at the scanning centre holding a pack of cigarettes in his left hand and carefully holding a small bag in his right hand with a couple of fruits and a snickers bar. Another was having a catnap outside, when his wife was with her sonologist. Yet another was making elaborate preparations to settle his infant next to him in the car as he waited for his wife to come out of the doctor’s clinic. There is also the trend of men picking up stuff at mother and child stores for mothers in waiting and trying to get the colour/design etc. right to avoid another visit. Forget it - I am not thinking about the feminine side of a man. I am just trying to say that men do understand and more, albeit the hard way.
Wish me luck, we still got nine weeks to stay on the road well traveled with so many forks in between. Nowadays, whenever I hear my name called out at home, I respond with “don’t worry, relax” or “where is it hurting.” Just another day in paradise.
Things are different in India now, compared to the times when I was born and before that about the roles of fathers-to-be/husbands. From my mother and aunts – what I learnt was that throughout their pregnancies, the husbands were at work. That was it. The husband only mattered at the time of the birth of the baby (and also at the beginning). Else he was just an onlooker in the whole setup. Times changed. Of late, since I started observing, the role of husbands is not what it used to be. Why am I observing all this? Because I am pregnant! No, there was neither a scientific experiment which went off well, nor am I Arnold Schwarzenegger. The age we are in, awareness, media, nuclear families, et al ensure that when the lady is pregnant, the family is pregnant. And so here I am.
The first baby came home even before the whole idea of having a baby could sink in. During the slight trouble we had then due the baby’s pre-term arrival, we were thankful for all the help from friends and well-wishers, some of whom we never saw. Didn’t dare for another one for sometime. After we spent about a year contemplating adoption, we just took the plunge.
I was thinking of changing my job to be with my family. This was after staying apart for 10 months and frequent trips to and fro were getting stressful. I must have felt that there wasn’t enough excitement in my life and so quit before I had a job in hand. Well it is only a job and not life one is quitting from.
Now I was pregnant and was yet to be told about my status. I was in for some exciting times. After I quit my job, I packed my bags and landed home one Sunday morning. It was one of those mornings, when the weather was pleasant with the onset of summer round the corner. If it is February, you got to be in Bangalore. Years ago, the chief excitement it contained was my birthday amongst other things like Vasanthahabba (Protima – that was a fantastic contribution from you to Bangalore!), trees shedding leaves and the onset of tabebuia blooming in full splendour in Bangalore. (http://www.hindu.com/2007/03/01/stories/2007030102430200.htm). Pleasant breeze hitting the face and absolutely traffic-free roads made rides around town equally pleasant. Now, back to where we were before I wandered off on the beauty of my town.
It was as if I touched down right in front of my home. Wife and sonny were thrilled no end that I was back in town. My wife sure has a sense of timing and broke it gently as I came home. “Well,” I said, “we are going to have a nice time this summer.” I liked my confidence. I was yet to find a job keep the hearth warm. We had saved a bit but not for sudden job changes during a pregnancy. I had gone to a new city with lot of hopes and came back with nothing else quite literally. My wife was sure we’d find a way to handle it and for sure, we did.
Okay, now we are well into the first trimester. One evening when I return from work, my wife wants to try out Jamun – it is a violet coloured fruit (Jambul or Syzgium cumini). We went around looking for it in our part of the town the next two hours, in vain, much to her chagrin. Now how am I supposed to be blamed for not getting the fruit? Finally, we found them elsewhere the next day. Couple of nights later, I wake up to face this question – do these fruits (I don’t remember which ones) have abortive properties? I didn’t know some fruits had them, leave alone their names. In the interest of domestic peace, I did some surfing at 5 am next morning to find out. Then I convinced myself that what was happening to me was normal. I am given to understand that during pregnancy one’s sleep does get affected.
One evening, I am asked to uplift the mood in the house and get to try my hand at humour. Given half a chance I grab a lot, much to the irritation of all my friends, family and used-to-be well wishers (how could they be after they heard the verbal diarrhea!). So I went ahead and 10 minutes later, my wife got a catch. I was in full flow and could not stop immediately. All of a sudden I am a person with no concern for people in pain. Then the little one starts off “Pops, why are you troubling mama?” And I wonder whether I’d entered someone else’s house or was it a dream.
After one of the early visits to the Ob/Gyn and the sonologist, I hear a voice that tells me that I am being a silent spectator in the scans/visits. As if I was waiting for a cue, motor mouth takes over. Now we are in the 3rd trimester, the Gynaec and sonologist are good friends, we do lot of small talk and the presence of my wife is incidental.
No husband worth his salt these days can say a pregnancy at home does not affect him. Many of my male colleagues find it difficult keep up with their work schedules during a pregnancy. Some of them have taken an out of turn vacation to ensure the right mood for the last trimester. I saw a fellow husband at the scanning centre holding a pack of cigarettes in his left hand and carefully holding a small bag in his right hand with a couple of fruits and a snickers bar. Another was having a catnap outside, when his wife was with her sonologist. Yet another was making elaborate preparations to settle his infant next to him in the car as he waited for his wife to come out of the doctor’s clinic. There is also the trend of men picking up stuff at mother and child stores for mothers in waiting and trying to get the colour/design etc. right to avoid another visit. Forget it - I am not thinking about the feminine side of a man. I am just trying to say that men do understand and more, albeit the hard way.
Wish me luck, we still got nine weeks to stay on the road well traveled with so many forks in between. Nowadays, whenever I hear my name called out at home, I respond with “don’t worry, relax” or “where is it hurting.” Just another day in paradise.
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