It’s disturbing. It’s heart breaking. It’s real.

I stayed up watching over Z for a long while afterwards. I wanted to put her back in my womb; keep her safe from even the idea of evil.

Instead I gave her my finger to hold. When she squeezed it, I realized it was I who needed the contact more. I needed the reassurance of her life. Of her safety.

What I really wanted to do was wrap my arms around her and hold her tight against my heart.

And when she wailed in her sleep as I watched over her, I did just that.

Quotes from the movie that stayed with me:

• There was one thing my murderer didn’t understand; he didn’t understand how much a father could love his child.

• My murderer was a man from our neighborhood. I took his photo once; he stepped out of nowhere and ruined the shot. He ruined a lot of things.

• The days were unchanging and every night I dream the same dream. The smell of damp earth. The scream no one heard. The sound of my heart beating like a hammer against cloth and I would hear them calling.

Source: IMDB (The Lovely Bones page)

Copyright by Cuppa Life

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I probably should write down my birth story and save it for when Z is about to become a mum in 20+ years. It’s pretty hilarious in a ‘I can’t believe they didn’t tell me the sex of my baby after birth’. Yeah, I had to ask – and even then they got it wrong the first time. And we’re talking post birth!

There I was, all ready to faint from fatigue, waiting to hear if I had a girl or a boy so I could pass out in peace and no one thinks to tell me.

I had to actually ask ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’

‘It’s a boy!’ came the reply. I only just registered the slight disappointment at not having a girl and was thanking Allah for a healthy baby boy when -

‘No wait, it’s a girl!’

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At university it used to irritate me no end to realize my friends had lagged behind, and it irritated them no end that I couldn’t walk slow or keep pace with them.

In the end we worked out a compromise. I’d walk my pace and they walked theirs. I would reach our destination early while they were still a good 5 minutes away. So I’d buy chai at the cafeteria, sit and enjoy my cuppa while they caught up with me.

Of course walking fast and reaching first meant I had to give their orders as well so that by the time they got to me their fries would be ready :)

Soon after getting pregnant I realized I’d become a slow walker eventually and not just for the duration of my pregnancy but for life!

How so? First, I started walking slow because I couldn’t afford a stumble or a fall. Then I had to walk slow because my center of gravity changed and at best my balance was precarious. At this point, I can’t even get up from a chair or bed fast let alone be able to walk fast! The big tummy gets in the way.

Once I’ll give birth, I’ll be walking slow because I’ll have a baby in my arms, then I’ll be walking slow because I’ll have a toddler with me. After that I’ll be deemed a slow walker because my kid would be out pacing me.

Sigh, I’m never going to be a fast walker again.

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1. Some things don’t change.

I knew my friends were planning to throw me a baby shower and I figured out when it would be. My friends, God bless them couldn’t contain their excitement and made slips and they’re not the most authentic liars ;)

What I didn’t figure out was the effort they’d put in to make my surprise baby shower the most memorable thing of my pregnancy!

The second I saw the “Mom to bee” banner on the door, I knew I’d arrived at my shower. What waited for me behind that door was completely beyond my imagination! What was a “I know what’s awaiting me”, turned into “Omg, I can’t believe this!” within seconds.

I’d figured on yummy food, gifts and plenty of good wishes along with the great time we always have when we get together. I got all of that and much, much more. I got the cutest Honest Bee themed party ever thrown! A “Mom to bee” banner (which is hanging on the wall in front of my work desk as I write this), a t-shirt with the same slogan stitched on it, fairy lights and more banners!

That wasn’t all. The food looked brilliant – all colorful and creative, the cutlery matched the Orange and Yellow theme of the party. Even the spoons had little bees stamped on them!

It was quite a coincidence that I ended up wearing yellow and orange too! (That truly was a coincidence guys, I had no idea you guys were putting a theme to the baby shower!)

All in all, my friends were successful in surprising me. It was overwhelming to have so much love and attention showered on me.

Oh and the gifts I got were so perfect! A prenatal massage for myself and my baby’s first ever toys!

The euphoria of today refuses to die down and I’m still too excited to sleep.

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Last night’s sleep was one of the best I’ve had this trimester. The back ache and swollen feet didn’t register. I didn’t get uncomfortable enough to wake up and managed to change sides only when I had to get up to go to the loo.

The loo trips only happened thrice too – instead of the usual 5 or 6, in half of which I have to walk holding onto the furniture for support.

But since the pain didn’t register, I could simply get up and go with minimum hassle.

The baby cooperated too. There was no rib tickling or kicks on my bladder. There was no crazy movements to wake me up. Just a little shove here and there to let me know it was okay when I’d get up to go to the loo.

Of course I won’t be able to sleep off stress when there’s a hungry, squalling baby in the crib in the middle of the night.

Just a little over 3 weeks left!

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One just doesn’t know what Allah has in store for us.

So far this pregnancy has been the easiest. My toughest challenge has been to survive a mild case of PUPPP. Even the mildest case of PUPPP is no walk in the park. It was only my vanity that saved me from going insane scratching myself like a monkey. It was the fear of getting scars.

Having sensitive skin that scars easily I put ice on my stomach, lathered it with cream, then doused it with baby powder to dry it out – 20 times a day.

Now that’s terror I tell you.

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My sister had a 7 hour transit in Dubai on May 17th. After tons of Visa drama where I tried everything and she tried everything and still all people had to tell us was that you needed at least 8 hours to get a transit Visa – meeting her turned out to be extremely simple.

When nothing worked out before-hand, we decided that she should first go to the visa desk and ask for a visa. If they refuse, to go try the hotel desk and ask for a room and I’ll go meet her at whatever hotel she’ll be at (if they gave her one). And if nothing worked out, we’ll just wave across the glass to each other.

Whatever happened, whether we got to meet or not, I told her I was going to be at the airport when her plane landed.

Since my trip home has been delayed, I wasn’t going to let the chance of meeting her get by me. My sister was in the same country as I was! There was no way I would have sat back and not done everything to meet her! Had I been going home two weeks later like originally planned, I might not have been so crazy to meet her. Either way, I did end up meeting her :D

Her flight got delayed and we ended up meeting for a grand total of two and a half hours (only =( ). 

But in true younger sister fashion, I went through her bag while she was freshening up in the loo. And because we didn’t have much time, we were talking even while she was in the stall :P Took her out to dinner after that where we lounged (read caught up) on everything that had happened in the past year since we’d last met.

From listening to hilarious stories of my younger cousins to seeing her enjoy her first taste of Arabic food. It was a memorable couple of hours.

Needless to say, I can’t wait to go home. I miss my parents and siblings! And my friends! Let’s not forget that I want to hit the beach like last time and shop! 

For those of you who have siblings living abroad who you don’t get to meet often, have you ever gone to crazy extents to meet them if only for a few hours?

That’s not the only thing that happened in May. Stay tuned for details of further may mayhem!

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My best internship experience and I forget the company’s name. 

Have I changed as a person so much that what once was important to me is no longer important enough to remember it? Or have I squashed the dreams I once had and made my peace?

On a slightly lighter note: I’ve probably just seen new dreams for myself.

Either way, it saddens me to realize I can’t remember the name of the company that was (is?) the epitome of my idea of a perfect place to work at.

In case you’re wondering, yes I have a certificate to show, and a copy of all the work I did for them but I don’t want to look at them to remember the name. I want to remember it on my own.

Copyright by Cuppa Life

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The Writing Base is about freelancing, writing and social networking. It is commentary on my experiences as a new freelancer.

Cuppa Life – where you’re at right now – is about life as an expat in UAE.

My third and oldest blog (though I’ve moved home twice before but have always brought along everything), Chronicles of a Chai Charsee is my personal blog.

The thing is that it’s been getting confusing between Chronicles and Cuppa Life, trying to decide where to blog what. Now that I’ve moved to the UAE, technically both blogs are about life as an expat. Living in UAE invariably influences all aspects of my personal life.

After a post asking my readers, friends and followers on what to do, its been decided that I will merge the two. From now on Cuppa Life has a new direction. It shall be my personal blog and my expat blog.

If you’re screaming in anguish already at the idea of having to endure my brain vomit, I promise I’ll try to control it :P

I won’t be moving my posts from Chronicles so if you want to *cough* snoop *cough* read through my previous entries and see what I’ve been blogging about since the age of 18, you’ll have to head on over there.

Let me know what you guys think.

Related posts:

1. Some things don’t change.