OUR BABY HAS ARRIVED!!!💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻
No I wasn’t expecting nor have I delivered but my baby sister just did. Which means our entire family did.😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁
Yes that’s exactly how it is. Whenever someone close to you is expecting or delivers a baby the lives of everyone around get filled with magic. Nothing short of a miracle.
The excitement of a new life, small hand, little feet,soft skin and rosy lips. Baby names pouring in.Influx of gibberish baby words. Miniature clothes and booties,sweaters and baby blankets made by mom and mama. Sleepless nights. Traffic of well intended but imposing advice. Guessing games of who the baby looks like. A replay of labour stories. And of course landmarks proudly shared and documented, from the first potty to the first sound to the first smile.
And the blinding but strong urge awakened in each mom to have yet another little one. 
It’s priceless.
It takes me right back to 5th of January 2002. I had been in labour for 24 hours and I had yet another 24 to go. The wait was long because though I had, in my Gynac’s words-“Beautiful contractions” (Beautiful???🙄) But I wasn’t dialated enough. On the 5th night My water bag gave way at moms. Dad mom and me rushed to the hospital. Forgetting almost to call Vipul.(he was at home which was the other end of the country. 🙈Almost🙄.)
I was in excruciating pain and yet the little one showed no signs of appearing. Worst still the baby was going into distress because he had🙈 pooped😖). Now I knew what it meant to be “Full of shit!”.😬
I’ve come to realize that some of the most ridiculously funny conversations happen in stressful situations. My Delivery is a treasure trove such insane conversations. 
Anyway Meera aunty my gynecologist kept checking if I’d dialated,so much so that at a point of time I told her “ If you push any further your hand is going to come out of my throat”.🙄😡
Anyway through the night I kept pacing, pausing in between to deal with the contractions. To everyones surprise I was extremely calm,tolerant and strong through out my labour. No sound escaped me except a mumble of “Oh God! oh God!Oh God!” At every contraction which was five minutes apart,After hearing my mumbling a number of times my mom,who is very religious, couldn’t contain herself. And she finally blurted. 
Mom-Take Ganpati Bappas name, Hanumanjis name why “Oh God???” 🙄
Me- Mom are you seriously being non-secular at this moment?😡
Mom-No! Not at all. It just sounds ambiguous.🤔
Me- Ambiguous or catholic?😠
Mom- No,no! Non-specific. Besides Mahim church is too far I doubt Jesus will make it in time?😈
Me-🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈
After this conversations we both suddenly realised,we were so busy calling on all the Gods we had forgotten to call the man who was responsible for my state.😒
So finally mom called him. He reached in no time. Benefits of delivering in the middle of the night😁.If it was day he’d probably have reached on the kidos first birthday.🙄
Anyway,he rushed into the room had one look at me and his blood pressure plummeted. So much for being strong.🙄! I was too much in pain to care for the father to be. And it was decided to leave him out of the operation theatre. No one had time to attend to a tall fainted man.🙄
Finally after much waiting,and constantly monitoring Meera aunty decided to perform a c-section,while I was hell bent on having a normal delivery(the romance of motherhood!🙃).
When she was prepping for the delivery my mom went to her with tea and biscuits🤗. Out of concern of course. Because she was a mom and no one is supposed to work empty stomach,and definitely not miss breakfast.😁😁😁😁 Everyone,from my husband to mom,dad,my mom in law everyone had tea and cookies 🤤While I was starving to death and ready to kill.😡😡😡
Women in labour should surely be allowed a couple of murders!🤔🤔🤔🤔
After much debate I walked into the OT. Still refusing to take epidural for the c-section. Meera aunty was very understanding and decided to indulge me one last time.
Meera aunt- We’ll try one last time,two pushes and if it’s(didn’t know the gender.) not out I will do the c-section. I agreed and gathered all my strength which had long abandoned me in the last 48 hours😥😰😶and pushed😤.
Me-(after the first push) Is it out?😰
Meera aunt- Not yet! 😕
Me- But I felt something escape me.😦
Meera aunt-Gas!☺️
Me-🙈
Meera aunt- Breathe.
Me- I can’t the babies stuck in my lungs😡😡😡😡
Meera aunt you- One deep breath and push……☺️😘
Me with whatever I was left with took a deep breath and pushed like my life depended on it.
And lo behold his first cry….the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.
I am getting goosebumps even as I write this. My neonatal pediac got my little slimy “Life” cradled in her arms. He had stopped crying and stared at me pointedly as I soaked in his entirety through my teary eyes. He was the most magnificent magic I had ever seen. 
He looked straight out of national geographic. Tall,thin,HUGE sunken eyes, mammoth ears on a big wobbly head delicately placed on a frail body and pink feet. He looked exactly like a chimpanzee’s baby.And he was the most beautiful sight I ever laid eyes on. 
A year later I went through all of it again. 48 hours of labour,the anxiety the tension the prayers and equally mental conversations and yet again I saw The most beautiful sight ever. I Held him in my arms admiring my marshmallow.
My arms and heart full of two magical beings.I was finally complete.
As we are yet again today……
Blessed by our “Small Miracles.”