Wednesday, Apr 26th

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An Unexpected Arrival

An unexpected arrival Now, if we are to believe everything that we see on TV or the Silver screen, having your Mother-in-Law (MIL) in your home is like living with a very hungry, fire-breathing dragon. A situation where you would sooner or later become a nice tasty grilled snack for her. Surprisingly though, I never once did I feel like I was going to be turned into a crispy appetizer.
My MIL and I got along famously. In fact, the two of us would sometimes spend hours together cracking jokes at my wife's expense. I learned soon enough that such a thing was not good for my well being either. Having your MIL visit you during such a volatile, unpredictable and delicate time is a blessing indeed. I never did miss a single College Football game! A few games, we watched together. Even though she couldn't tell if it was really a game or if I just liked watching men grab each other in tight fitting pants. I couldn't give her any reasonable explanation for the tights. To assuage her fears about which team I was batting for, I just pointed to her daughter's now very large belly.
   The cooking in the house improved tremendously of course. My MIL would cook up amazing delicacies quicker than I could say "Hara Bhara Chicken with a Dash of Lime". Gone were the days when I would finish a meal, thank for my wife for the wonderful Baingan Curry and then exclaim incredulously "Chicken?? THAT was Chicken?!" when she would indicate as such. But now, things were indeed going along splendidly for me. All that fear about being pregnant proving to be a stressful time was a distant memory. Until....
   One Sunday morning in early May, my wife indicated that something didn't quite feel right. "But", I protested. "We still have four weeks to go before the baby is due. And your mom said she would make hot Idlis today for breakfast." But the look on her face convinced me that we would have to make an unscheduled visit to the hospital. And the visit sealed the deal for me
regarding hospitals. I simply detest them. For over twelve hours we sat and waited. My wife and I. Every couple of hours a nurse would come along and hand us thick stack of forms to fill that would shame the IRS. After gathering information about whether on not my great-great grandfather had decent bowel movements, they lead us from one room to another where
different machines hummed and buzzed. I was pretty sure that one of them was not even a medical machine. It looked more like a water heater. At the end of the day, we were told, everything looks okay and we could go home. What?
   Just as my wife was changing into street clothes (from that silly gown that always flaps open at the back and shows your butt to the world) she calls me to the bathroom. When I get there, I see water everywhere. I quickly look around to see if any faucets had broken. IT WAS NOT THE FAUCETS. And so, my wife was induced into labor 4 weeks early. The next 24 hours are a blur for me from all the fainting I did whenever I saw the nurses pull out a big needle. The breathing exercises we learned really helped. Helped ME that is.
   In the end, after 20 hours of my wife grunting, pushing and yelling obscenities at me, it was determined the baby wouldn't leave the cozy confines of his current dwelling willingly and we would have to make a trip to the OR. And I would have to be with her in the Operating Room.  "Operating Room??" I mumbled, preparing to faint again. "But, I don't do so well at the sight of blood" I protested. "Not to mention needles"  quipped the nurses, giggling.
     What happened in the OR would take an entire post of its own. But despite all this, in the end, I was holding a beautiful baby boy in my hands who was so eager to meet his dad, that he came a few weeks early. Strangely though, he seemed to have a 'ha-ha-ha' kind of expression on his face when gazing at me. But something told me that the best was yet to come. Stay tuned for more tales from the Da-Da Chronicles.