Yipee… my baby bump was spotted. At last!

The first time, and now again… my baby bump is not an obvious one.

Apart from those who know I am pregnant, no one can make out that I am some 30 weeks far into it. With the help of some maternity clothes and a dramatic tilted walk, only a few can now guess that I am not just a big woman, but one with a bun in the oven.

So imagine my joy today when in my regular clothes, someone managed to guess that I was pregnant.

It took all my self control to not jump on the rather cute security guard and hug him.

I was at the Museum of Islamic Art entrance, when one of the security guards pointed out my bump to his colleague and asked him to let me skip the metal detector routine. And I wasn’t even doing one of my exaggerated pregnancy walks.

Just hope the guys at the airport check-in next week let me skip the economy class and bump me up to business.

They didn't punch me in my stomach. Thanks for the advice!

Last evening I took O and three of her friends out for a movie (Madagascar 2) and dinner.

R advising O before we left: "Don't trouble Amma. Listen to her. Don't fight with each other (friends not me). And don't let anyone punch her in the stomach because she is pregnant."

Now, was he giving O and her friends an idea or what?! Because it is not like people routinely punch me in my stomach, pregnant or otherwise!

For what it was worth, they didn't punch me on my stomach.

PS: The movie sucked. No story to speak of, and really boring lines. Nothing catchy. Stupid. And why should a Giraffe fall in love with a Hippo. Isn't it unethical for 2 different breeds to hook up? It didn't help that I am not a fan of animation films.

Umm finally sees the cons of flexi hours.

I am an ardent advocate of flexi hours. I have seen that both personally and with others, when given an option of flexibility, the will to go the extra length is stronger and productivity is really high.

Of course, there will always be someone who is trying to skive off work or exploit the trust. But by and large, it works well. In fact, the only places where fixed hours -- replete with a time office counting the minutes/seconds -- are still prevalent are government or other inefficient/unproductive organizations.

I’ve been in employment for nearly 13 years, and barring a horrendous 3 months, have only worked in places that offer flexi hours.

Probably because I totally love my line of work, I don’t even realise that flexi hours often ends up as really long hours. Since I am not willing to account for the hours of the day, I go overboard accounting for quality of my work and the load I’m willing to pull.
Often this means working weekends, late nights, without a break…

In every place I’ve worked in I’ve come across pedantic folks who talk about face time, and clocking hours. Folks who would spend hours away from the desk smoking/drinking coffee/praying/chatting. Folks who would leave at the dot of 5 or 6 or whatever the exit time is. Folks who would whine about putting in a few extra hours now and then…
Those folks, I am glad to say, have little or no influence over how I or the people I work with, function.

But after all these years, I am feeling the strain of flexi hours.
I’ve also come to realize that flexi hours can be quite exploitative.

Though during my first pregnancy I experienced no dip in energy levels, this time around I am quite easily sapped. I am now in my third trimester, and find it rather impossible to work without breaks in between. Must be age as well… just a few months short of 35!

And now I wish I worked fixed hours – which here would mean 5 hours in the morning, 2 hour break and 3 hours in the evening. Then when I go home, I go home! I am not working… While at office, I would be taking the dozen 10 minute breaks a lot of people tend to take.

I would have then been in a position to turn down any work that requires me to work more than these hours…

But no, not only did I practice flexi hours, I preached it with passion.

Now it’s too late to retract. So like the fabled dumb mule, I allow myself to be overloaded with work.

I sit glued to my work station for hours without moving or little movement – something that the doc has advised against; I nurse terrible back and pelvic pain/discomfort; I try and manage the ever-growing team with patience that is wearing thin – for no fault of theirs really; I am trying to finish all the work within the sanest possible hours. I come back home to an annoyed daughter (the drama queen feels neglected), try and do the best by her and get down to work again as soon as she is asleep.

The worst part of it all? I have no one to blame, but myself! In fact, I have some splendid colleagues who have chipped in so much to not make me feel or sound like a whiner.

I have only recently learnt to say ‘no’… it used to be a torturous exercise earlier to turn down requests. I just need to practice saying it more often and more forcefully.

So maybe there is something to be said in favour of fixed hours… not that I could ever embrace that system, but I do see the (few) pros of it.

PS: I know that there are people out there who are nodding sagaciously to themselves, and concretising their opinions on why equal opportunity doesn’t work. Just want to tell those pompous asses: try carrying a pebble in your tummy for a day, while carrying on your regular work… then come back and argue equal opportunities with us.

Maternity Break. Loving maternity, dreading break!

For nearly two years now, I’ve been worrying and fussing about what is now of immediate concern to me.
My maternity break.
I knew that I would be having a second one, either biologically or otherwise; I absolutely wanted to. Yet a gnawing fear on how we would manage.

When I was pregnant with O over 7 years ago, I quit my job in the third trimester and stayed at home till she was about 20 months old. She had to go to a baby sitter next door only for a couple of hours a day, 3-4 days a week. Since R works evenings, our situation was/is better than many other families in a similar fix. (He took care of O during the day and will do the same for Plus too.)
However, this time around, quitting my job is not an option. For one, we CAN’T AFFORD it, financially. For the other, I am finally realising the benefits of what I’ve worked hard for the last five years in my job. I am unwilling to give all that up right now.

Call me selfish… but the profession I am in is not something I stumbled upon or wandered into unplanned. It’s what I’ve wanted to do since I was 14 or 15. It’s something I started working towards while still in college. In many ways, for someone who plans so little, this choice alone was well thought out. A choice I made over other far more lucrative opportunities that came my way.
I want very little in life, but the little I want, I want it all… not sure if it makes sense. I WANTED/WANT my child to be born in India. That means a longer maternity break. I WANTED/WANT my children to be exclusively breast-fed, and that means a longer period of flexi-hours. I WANT Plus to have the dedicated attention O received. I DON’T WANT to terminate a career that has taken off rather well in recent years. I WANT the financial comfort we enjoy now, to continue. I am SCARED that all my WANTS are in conflict with each other.
This is my personal angst.

I agree that losing a trained employee for 4-5-6 months may cause some inconvenience for the company. But that’s where planning comes in, isn’t it?
We (the world) can’t afford to keep women out of the workforce. We need them… to meet the numbers, and also because of the expertise a large number of them provide.
What has happened now is that women are being ‘accommodated’ in structures/operations that are outdated.
Efforts to integrate women into the workplace have been add-ons of sorts. ‘Add-ons’ that need to fit in with an existing structure. The reason newer industries attract more women to its muster is because they have been established from scratch, keeping in mind a mixed work atmosphere. For instance, IT, PR, new media…

MadMomma in her recent post talks about this, and there is a great debate going on in the comments section.
This is a universal problem: conflict of the role of women in workplaces, equal opportunities (as against equality), and the personal torment of balancing work and home is universal.

A survey published by the European Equal Opportunities Commission in February 2005 highlights the extent to which pregnant women and new mothers experience discrimination in the workplace.
• 7% of working women were either dismissed, made redundant or left their jobs due to pregnancy discrimination;
• 45% of women who had worked while pregnant said they experienced 'tangible discrimination' such as denial of training opportunities and changes in job description;
• 21% had faced discrimination that may have led directly to financial loss;
• 5% were put under pressure to hand in their notice after announcing their pregnancy; and
• only half the women had a health and safety risk assessment carried out.

In this context, it’s fantastic that the Indian Government has done this. Six months maternity break and two years of paid leave that can be availed anytime before the child turns 18!

In Qatar, women are eligible to 50 days of paid leave from the date of delivery, as maternity leave. And following that, for a year, they can deduct 1 hour per working day, to be taken at their convenience, to support breast feeding.
Not enough, but something to begin with.

We cannot ignore or neglect our primary role. A majority of working women are homemakers too, and that role cannot be compromised. It’s like a house of cards, this card at the very bottom of the pyramid, holding the rest up. Pull that vital card out or displace it, and the rest will come tumbling down.
If a woman chooses to pursue a career in addition to running a home and family, it is in EVERYONE’s larger interest to make it possible: Not easy, just possible. And that would probably mean flexi-hours, tele-commute, and newer ideas that I can’t quite figure out right now.
We need to think more about this. And by ‘we’ I don’t mean women alone.

When I visited the CISCO campus in San Jose a couple of years ago, I almost regretted all the well-paid IT jobs I turned down at the NIIT placement, because I wanted to go for the unpaid internship at Indian Express. Who knows, I would have ended up in San Jose, with my brood of 6 children, instead of the O + Plus I am currently content with.
Every work floor at CISCO’s sprawling campus has a nursing room, complete with facilities to express and store breast milk. And within the campus is a superbly outfitted crèche.
Just perfect, guilt-free working. You take your child to work, and every time you sense a guilt pang, just walk up to the crèche for some cuddling/feeding/kissing/hugging. Mother happy. Child happy. Employer happy, because they don’t have train someone new every time an employee decides to procreate. Win-Win situation.

Back to the present and the future that’s looming large. I have a great relationship with my company, and so far both the management and colleagues have been supportive of the occassional lethargic mornings, forgetfulness and general feeling of distraction. But so far, work hasn’t been affected, as I pull myself out of momentary lapses rather quickly.
I would be fooling myself if I said this pregnancy hasn’t affected me professionally, at all.
I worry and worry some more. Four months out of circulation? And then many more months of restricted circulation… what value would my currency hold?


PS: A tiny part of this is taken from an editorial I wrote for one of my magazines.

O Plus Tales I

Yesterday we went for a 2nd tri scan.

This was the first time O was seeing Plus, and she has been waiting for this for a while. Though she couldn't quite grasp what or how she would see inside my stomach, and was a little worried that the doctor would split me open for her benefit, so she could catch a glimpse of Plus.

At the first scan of Plus, R & I were excited. R is the kind who expresses his excitement with a big grin, and responds to mine with big 'yeahs'.

I talk. Really talk. And O is the Umm's bint in this... she gets all giggly and high-strung and chatty.

So it was an awesome experience to see Plus with her by my side. And probably sensing the presence of chechi/akka (more of that later)... it moved and waved its hands and legs and put up quite a show for her.

And she spoke about the scan non-stop the whole day. She told everyone she met that she saw "'our baby' in my mother's stomach". She wanted to know how the gel and the scan strobe transmitted the image of the baby on to the screen, what the doctor was doing on the computer, how the baby got in, when it will get out...

She woke me up to the whole miracle of nature and technology. Just when I was getting impatient with the long wait ahead, and tiring a bit... she injected energy into this pregnancy.

It's so wonderful to see things from a child's point of view -- because they take so little for granted, they don't shy away from expressing their amazement, and are not embarrassed to show their excitement.

Overcompensating

Yesterday evening at work, after calling for a meeting earlier in the day, I completely forget about it, pack up and walk out of the office – only to hear my colleagues running after me and reminding me that there was a meeting scheduled.
Sheepish, embarrassed and terribly hungry, I head back in.
“We understand, we forgive you,” laughed one colleague.
And another piped up: “Would you be using this is as a trump card now?”
‘This’ referring to my pregnancy.
I was a little taken aback, but knew that the guys were only pulling my leg, so laughed it off.
There I was trying to overcompensate every aspect of my life, so that people don’t turn around and tell me that I am slipping up because of my ‘condition’.
The professional risk is that such slip-ups may well follow in a sweeping generalisation on why women at workplaces pose a problem.
So I’ve been taking on more work than I would usually.
And to top it all, ‘mommy guilt’ is working overtime. In an effort to ensure O doesn’t feel she is missing out on stuff because of Plus, I am on overdrive on that front too.
In any case, after the meeting, just as I was shaking off the embarrassment and trying to set right my hunger, I started to panic. I remembered something else. Earlier in the day, in conversation with a colleague, I couldn’t for the life of me recollect the name of the book I am presently reading. That rarely ever happens to me. I don’t forget names, faces, dates very easily; and here I was 2 hours after reading a few pages, lost for the title.
Is it my old fear? Or can I conveniently blame it on my pregnancy? This once, I wanted to use the pregnancy as an excuse.
And voila, a quick search online reveals that yes, it’s possible. According to Babycenter.Com “Forgetfulness may be your cue to simplify your life.”
But I don’t remember experiencing this during my first pregnancy – or maybe, I am forgetting that as well!

the best love of all

is the love of self.
And that comes only with self respect.

On Monday I started my pre-natal yoga classes. during my first pregnancy, I started pre-nat yoga only in my 6th month.

There were 3 other preg women in the class. One in her 7th month, another at the end of the 4th (like me) and the teacher, who is in her 37th week, ready to pop it any minute.
They all looked perfect -- perfect figure, perfect rounded belly, and perfect postures.
They were in and out of aasanas with such ease.
In my more uncharitable moods i would probably call them self-obsessed, for preening over their perfect bods.
I realise now that it's self respect. Respecting their body, and their personality. and that's a wonderful thing to do for yourself.

There was also a non-preg teacher-in-waiting (Monica) , to step in for Emma when she delivers.

I was, unsurprisingly, the least fit in the class.
But only in comparison.

I surprised myself by how flexible I can be, despite my fast growing tummy. the problem is with maintaining the distance between my shoulder and my ear -- as Monica pointed out, I’ve been trying to compensate my big bust by rounding my shoulder.
Obviously this not only creates bad posture, but makes you look like you have a combination of big busts and bad bras. Which is not true. I take more effort and spend more money on my bras than on any other piece of clothing.
So i am now consciously trying to maintain the distance between my ear and shoulder, and to look less like Gladstone Small.

The last two days I've been looking around and checking out people's postures. It has nothing to do with their body shape, weight or height. It's something more; sometimes you can't quite pinpoint.

Like how short someone is till you stand next to them or measure them, because they carry themselves tall. similarly, the big women who walk light. And then there are the tall ones who stoop and the skinny ones who bend themselves in the middle...

I guess Yoga is the best way to set that posture right.
This is where I go...

An armload of worries

My O always goes to sleep on the crook of my arm. My right arm. When she was just a baby, it was my left arm, so that she could hear my heart beat (i remembered a colleague, years ago, telling me that he always put his baby to sleep by laying her across the left side of his chest, as it soothed the lil one). Of late it's the right arm, because I am attached to the left side of the bed. Once she is asleep, I transfer her to her cot, or R does when he comes home and stakes claim to his part of the bed.
The crook of my arm has been hers from the day she was born. Even on days I've had bad neck or back pain, I would cradle her for a short while.

My mother has been advising me to stop this habit for a while... but I haven't been able to. Now I know it's time to wean her off my arm. But how, because I know when Plus makes an appearance s/he will be cradled too... it's the easiest way to put the baby to sleep. By cradling it in your arm, and just letting your body warmth soothe it to sleep. Better than rocking and marching up and down the room.

This is not my only worry -- O is an independent little girl. When she was just 15 months old, R and I took off for a couple of days, leaving her with my mum. And she was fine. She travelled alone to India when she was just 5+ years.
She is reasonable about my work hours, about my schedule, that I am not the cooking-fresh-meals kind of mum (though she wants me to be)... but of late she has been a bit more clingy. She is not very happy about me leaving her at home with the baby sitter late in the evenings. She refuses to listen to reason.

That's when I realise that she is not yet a girl, she is still my little baby, who eagerly awaits another, but yet has her fears. Which she doesn't voice -- probably scared that I will change my mind. After all she has been at us for 2 years now, demanding a bro or sis.
She has made expansive promises on how she will help take care of the baby. I only hope she doesn't dip it in her bath water, holding it by the hair, the way she does her dolls.

I talk to her and try to tell her gently that things will change in a few months, and that she has a role to play too.
A friend suggested that I tell her that she would always be the most special as she came first. But I can't ever do that, given that I'm the youngest of 4, and am never allowed to forget (by my siblings) that I probably was an after thought!

It would be easiest to tell her that everything will be hunky-dory and her Amma will still have all the time in the world for her, even later. Easy, but untrue... I am hoping reasoning and understanding will hold me in good stead.

When I tell her, that it's the turn of Plus to lie in the crook of my arm, I hope she smiles and says go ahead.

But knowing how insecure I can get, I am sure I would take that as a personal rejection as well.

umm o and ?

so i am bored witless... and i sit fooling around with templates, and realise that this Umm O business may cause trouble sometime in the future.
In a few months, I would be Umm O plus another (inshallah!)... And then I will have to work on being fair and politically correct and change my Umm suffixes... am sure the Plus in question would not be bothered for some years at least, but why keep that avenue for misunderstanding open... there are issues enough parents and children deal with, without adding a blogging nomenclature to it.