Countdown to B-Day

Dakhylina Madkhul takes us through the last month of her diary entries leading up to the birth of her first child.

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 Classifieds?
• 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 night.
• 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 mother-to-be.
• 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 time’.

1 Week!

• 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.

Dakhylina Madkhul

A beautiful baby boy arrived on his expected due date, 5th February 2012.