NAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEVI !

All babies are precious. But ours was more so, coming as she did after years of meticulous planning ( and prayers!). She was never a problem, from when she was a ticking white speck on the ultrasound monitor. She gave me no morning sickness, no aversions or cravings, no dizzy spells or unexplained tears. All in all, a very uneventful, enjoyable pregnancy. Her entry into the world though spectacular by my standards, was uneventful as per the doctor's . Exactly forty-two minutes of intense labour pain and there she was. My gynae called her a Super Fast Baby. And I laid back on my post delivery bed and relaxed. That was easy, I thought. People made such a big deal about this. HA! As I mused so, there was a constant wailing in the background which was not out of place in a labour room, Or so I thought , until a nurse asked irritatedly, "ho, itheythu kunja karayunnatha?" ( literal translation : which child is crying ? literal translation + insinuation : which kid is making this godawful ruckus ?) and her collegue whispered into her ears and the two of them looked at me apologetically. Then I had a slight, very slight premonition for what was in store.


A while later, the wailing stopped and a nurse brought me this distinctly indignant child and announced tersely, "There, take a look. This is yours". And I looked and looked and looked. She looked like no one I knew, though she did bear a slight resemblence to my History teacher in school ( now long dead, God bless her soul) who suffered severely from peptic ulcer and eczema. From the start, my daughtrer had a singularly disapproving look on her face which deepened when she got agitated. Which was often . And there in the post delivery room, the uneventfulness of my life ceased, and a whirlwind took over. Everything turned on its head. Mealtimes, baths, conversations and most importantly, sleep, came to be determined by the whims and fancies of one 50cm long person. Her full throated cry- which was always accompanied by a colorful display as she would turn red from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes - which her paediatrician aunt appreciated, had me palpitating and hunting for the nearest neonatologist. For the life of me I couldn't figure out why she was crying. When I mentioned this, experienced aunts and cousins nodded sagely and said " many a night you'll spend soothing a crying child and have no idea what the problem is" . The unsaid " Baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet" was always left behind after every baby-related conversation.



When we got home, she took over the entire house with amazing speed. My room, the wardrobes, the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen were all taken over by her baby mattresses, pillows, her own bathing sponges, towels and washclothes. Soon came the avalanche of diapers, baby creams, powder, wet wipes and feeding bottles. My telephone conversations which used to last for hours suddenly halted abruptly with me saying " Got to rush. Baby crying. Will call back soon". I never did call anyone back soon or ever. The whirlwind thus took over my life, every aspect of it .


But when my little girl sleeps, I look at her and think to myself that if God were to come down on Earth, He would probably look like this. The rosebud mouth parted in sound sleep, the dimpled fists tightly closed and the supreme serenity on her face. As I wish myself a Nappy Birthday this year, I silently thank the Almighty for He could not have given me a better, more fulfilling gift.