Wednesday, February 10, 2016


I have always thought that people who have been either fat or pregnant, will have no trouble telling the difference between fat and pregnant. I, for one, can tell. In the past many years, there were a few occasions when I was mistaken for being pregnant. The janitor in my university, stranger on the subway offering me a seat..etc. I always managed to laugh it off and it never really bothered me. But in recent times it stopped being funny. Perhaps a reflection of all the indecision that we face - even a well meaning friendly jab only serves as an unwanted reminder of the conflict and confusion and doesn't amuse any longer.

Which is why, when I visited the doctor last week complaining of exhaustion and fever, and he asked me if I was pregnant I immediately bristled. "No, just fat" I grunted defensively, whilst doing the math in my head. I couldn't possibly be, I thought. But just because this was a doctor asking, and not a nosy annoying auntie, I began wondering- just what if? So I picked up a test on my way home. B was out of town, and I began thinking of all those chick flicks where the husband comes home and the wife shows him a plastic strip with two lines on it. And there's much disbelief and jumping and emotional moments of all sorts. Of course, the test was negative and my faith in the ovulation cycle was reaffirmed. Of course I felt a tingle of disappointment, but had the result been anything else  I think panic would reign above all else.

We've had a great social spell the last few weeks- just after I blogged about how bereft I feel of a social life. One of B's closest buddies was visiting from the U.S. We had a great time- one of the times we went to his house while a horde of his relatives were visiting- and as he introduced us to his cousin- she looked at B and another buddy of theirs and said to him- "Oh of course I know these guys- they have been the constants in your life". That really described the kind of friendship these guys have and I couldn't help feeling a teeny bit envious. After this friend left, another bunch of friends visited and we got to see up close and personal what it is to have two kids, within the age span of a year. When you are of advanced parental age, so to speak. Its a lot of energy, a lot of patience, and a whole lot of sacrifice. I am sure it is satisfying too.

And then a good friend visited me yesterday after several months. She told me that I seemed a lot more calm and at peace- and it felt good to hear that. It is indeed true. She has seen us through all the stages of our return to India and our tryst with my Father In Law's condition, and yes, after all of it, I have learned, I think, to just let it be. Take it a day at a time. Be positive and stop fretting about things out of my control.

Yeah! That's not such a bad mantra to have. :-)