Countdown to B-Day
Dakhylina Madkhul takes us through
the last month of her diary entries leading up to the birth of her first
4 weeks until due date
- Stress about names, or lack
thereof. Remind Husband we
need to come up with shortlist of boy's and girl's names pronto, but under
one condition: that he stops ‘Aussifying’ each one.
- Beyonce and Jay-Z announce their
baby's name: ‘Blue Ivy’. Feel relieved for once that I'm not a
celebrity with a passport to label my offspring with ridiculous monikers.
Wonder how much their Swarovski baby bath would sell for on Gumtree
- I start using massage oil
concocted by my mother. A rub
leaves me smelling like a lamb ready for a spit.
Suddenly I realise what the big vat of oil with onions, garlic and
herbs simmering on my stove for two days was all about.
3 Weeks to go…
- Father tells me for the thirteenth
time to give birth in Melbourne and not Canberra, this time adding,
‘We'll all have to fly up there otherwise. The only person you'll be inconveniencing is Aaron [my husband].’
‘That's true Baba,’ I reply, ‘but he is the father.’
I give my worried husband a reassuring pat on the arm.
- Husband moves out .. .of the
bedroom. I change position for
the hundredth time and straddle two pillows, legs flayed out like a fallen
baby bird. Husband announces
to the ceiling, ‘Tomorrow I sleep in the spare room.’ ‘That's FINE!’ I retort as
I stumble out of bed heading to the toilet for the fourth time that
- I finally call the baby car
capsule hire place. ‘Three
weeks-ish...’ I respond to the question, ‘When is the baby due?’
Trying to cover up my embarrassment I admit that, ‘I've left it
to the last minute haven't I?’ The
sales lady reassures me by telling me about a father who called up and
when asked the ‘when is the baby due question’ replied, ‘My wife's
in labour NOW!!’
- I spend some time trying to
explain to my 8-year old niece how come she was 'cut out of Mummy's tummy'
and the 'other way' babies come out. Conversation
ends when she concludes, ‘I don't want to be a woman anymore!’
2 Weeks to go
- I begin to see advantages of the
'Belly Card’. So far it's
earned me a discounted refrigerator part, a free kilo of oranges, extra
fries and twice somebody has stood up for me on the bus.
But even though I rub my tummy vigorously like it's an ancient
genie lamp, the receptionist at the antenatal clinic still gives me a
dirty look after I arrive fifteen minutes late for my appointment. I learn
the hard way that 'Belly Card'
privileges do not always work.
- I shamelessly treat myself to
'pregnancy sandals’ and eventually select shiny fire-engine red to add
style to my big summer- and pregnancy-affected feet.
I tell myself there’s nothing wrong with pampering the feet of a
- My husband insists on scheduling a
roster for chores, sleep and mealtimes post-birth.
I patiently watch him trying to figure out what time breakfast on
Tuesdays should be, before pointing out, that, ‘ the baby can't tell the
- Add to shopping list gym ball,
straws, more maternity pads, and very very soft toilet paper to pack in my
hospital bag after listening to the advice
of my once-pregnant,
now-pregnant and about-to-be pregnant girlfriends.
- Find myself still waiting for the
'nesting' syndrome to kick in but can't seem to get off the couch and know
that watching so many TV sitcoms isn’t good for me. I stare at the
skirting boards for 20 minutes to see if the urge to scrub them kicks in.
Nothing. So I watch
Modern Family instead.
A beautiful baby boy arrived on
his expected due date, 5th February 2012.