Bojjandi's Homecoming

I've been so busy that posts are coming out weeks after the events but never mind. To me, it's more important to record the moments some time. We were dying to shake the dust of the hospital off our heels by the time we'd been in there three days. Even though it felt like a min-vacation for A and me with Bojjandi. No other kids to feed and take to the bathroom and put to bed, no house to be cared for, no servants asking for instructions...just the three of us with the added benefit of a little bell that would instantly produce a nurse for Bojjandi's potty cleaning and so on, our laptop and a bunch of videos if we felt like watching them. But still, 3 days of peace was quite enough.

We wondered how the kids would react to Bojji. Chubbocks has of course been through the drill of new sibling before. He kind of knew what to expect and had reacted well when he visited us at the hospital. Puddi on the other hand had never seen or dealt with a small baby. The one time she bvisited us at the hospital, she seemed to have visceral memories of her stay there earlier in the year and shivered all the time. She barely seemed to recognise us, never mind take cognizance of the fact that there was a baby in the room.

The hospital finally let us go only by 1 pm, and our slow and careful drive home to avoid jolting me and the baby had us arriving only by 2. As we drew up, I saw that dad had made a lovely and creative "Welcome Arman. The 3 As" sign on the door, made out of Ashoka leaves with silver foil in the center. The kids were dancing with impatience, and it felt wonderful to be ushered in by Puddi on one side and Chubbocks on the other. Mom did a traditional aarati otuside the front door before we came in. A was busy taking photos of oru arrival home, and it was an indescribable feeling to have the three kids cluster around me.

We parked Bojjandi in the bedroom and headde straight for lunch since a and I were starving. Manwhile, Puddi and Chubbocks couldn't bear to leave the bedroom where Bojjandi was and were in there under the supervision of our maid. Puddi and Chubbocks both fought over who got to have the baby on their laps and eventually both of them took turns nursing Bojjandi. That afternoon afetr our naps, Puddi and Chubbocks danced in again. Puddi surreptitously tried to feed Bojjandi some of the cheeselings that she was eating, while Chubbocks gazed at him with rapt attention. "He's cute", was his thoughtful verdict. Since that day, the two kids have adjusted amazingly well to Bojjandi's presence. Chubbocks prances in in the morning while leaving for school to say "Hi, Bojjandi", and is thrilled to put his finger into Bojjandi's firm grip. Puddi spends the day clambering laboriously onto our high bed and petting the baby, asking to hold him. She's already told him her favourite Lion bedtime story. She's been evry understanding abotu all the time I spend closeted with Bojji during his feeds and even wakes up from deep sleep at night to say, "Baby ro raha hai. Dudu dedo" ( baby is cying. Give him milk).

I guess at some stage further down the line there will be the usual sibling fights, which are starting between Chubbocks and Puddi. But the nice thing so far is that while they may fight each other, they always gang up against us. I'm guessing the same thing will continue even after Bojjandi joins the gang!

Updates and Milestones

The one-month update for Bojjandi is a little delayed thanks to diwali and a spate of viruses - attacking both me and my laptop. One month down the road as mother of three and I have to say, managing three kids isn't more difficult than managing one. All you need is...three pairs of eyes, three pairs of hands, three times the patience and understanding...Oh, and temporary deafness! There are days when it gets a bit too much for me, to be honest, especially on nights when Bojjandi has resolutely refused to sleep except curled up next to me and suckling through the night. I need my space and the peace of mind of knowing that if I roll over in heavy slumber, no one's going to get crushed. I wonder how women like grandma used to handle it in the old days when they had four or five kids in quick succession, and husbands were only responsible for bringing home the bacon. But, I guess, this too shall pass...

We took Bojjandi for his one-month check-up end of last week. He's gained a decent amount of weight and one inch of height. His newborn clothes seem to be fitting a little better, he's no longer floating about so much that you wish you could put him in a life jacket. His eyes focus, and he makes solid eye-contact. For close to five minutes one evening, his gaze steadily locked onto mine, and I felt we'd started getting acquainted at last. He actually put out a half-smile at me the other day, not a gassy one. He looks around interestedly in which ever room and recognizes my voice and my smell/ touch. The minute I pick him up, he stops wailing, no matter how frantically he was wailing a second before.

I find myself relishing each and every bit of contact with him, particularly on the days that he's slept through the night. Of course on days that he's kept me up, I'm to be found flipping through the directory looking for boarding schools for newborns. But on the other days...I love the feeling of his limp, sated body flopping on my shoulder as I burp him, the little hands holding my shoulder. I love watching his alert eyes flit across the room, seemingly observing everything and making notes. I love the warm body snuggling into mine when he lies next to me for the afternoon feed, his little toes tickling my stomach. I love the indescribably soft baby skin of his cheeks. I love the gossamer touch of those tiny, beautiful, pink little fingers. I love the occasional coos that he's starting to make. I love the little coughs that signal hunger, as if he's politely asking for his meal, not wanting to interrupt me...

Maybe it's because he's the last baby I'm going to have, but I find that time is flying by too fast. Five weeks of my maternity leave are already over, and all too soon, I'll be gone part of the day, back to work. I know I'll enjoy work and the fact of doing something that does not involve potty or milk, but I also know I'll miss him like crazy. People who have limbs amputated feel phantom pain. I know I'll feel the phantom pleasures of imagining the baby's touch on my face - and then real pain when I realise I'm at work and he's not next to me.

It's a hard transition for women to make. You go from holding the baby right inside yourself for nine whole months, feeling every kick and flutter, to having him suddenly ejected..but at least he's right near you to start with. When I look at the future, it seems to hold a series of 'letting-go' moments. From leaving him for four hours a day to leaving him for nine...To leaving him overnight, when I travel...To leaving him for even longer. Then you let him go out of your safe cocoon of home into playschool and school. The circle of friends takes over and takes precedence. Other ties and interests take over and you only hope the ties that bind him to you and the home and family he was born to are strong enough to keep bringing him back time and again...

It's too scary to contemplate for the moment. I'm going to rush back to my room and pull my newest and last baby close for a tight hug!