The word baby boom for me meant more than its actual meaning. For many days, I simply could not even understand this huge metamorphosis that I was going through. I was in a state of disbelief and maybe even in a fantastical dream.

But each time I breathed, each time I woke up, walked and even talked, I knew that something magical was happening. The miracle of life, indeed, it was a miracle for sure. And now Fawad and I were rewarded with the joy of becoming parents. We will be parents!

After the initial adjustments for a few days at home I started to go to work again. It felt good to be at work with my baby. Everything just felt different, reborn, and fresh. Outwardly I was still the same but I had a glow that people began to notice. I couldn’t resist sharing my good news. I think I told everyone, even those of them who didn’t ask. If I could, I would put it on a placard and carry it around with me.

My whole being was enveloped in a soft glow. Calm peace. Even the mild bodily discomforts were like a blessing, it meant that my little baby was making its presence known.

My baby… mine.

Repeating it over and over again acted like an affirmation.

Not that I could forget, all my friends made sure I wouldn’t, with all the advice and help. I loved every minute of it.

Saman got me a copy of “What to expect me when you’re expecting.” I was extremely touched. Saman knew how to love me like a true friend. I was happy to share these times with her.

However, the real world needed my attention. This was my little ‘huge’ joy and the rest of the world would not stop for me, just because I couldn’t stop enjoying these moments.

Life required me to press on. But that was the thing. Life simply became better, more joyful and happier. How could a little life like this have such an impact, I didn’t fail to notice. That was the beauty of it.

On a personal front Fawad and I laughed a lot together. We always had something or another thing to plan or discuss. Family paid frequent visits, cooking for me and running my errands. My in-laws called almost every day and had lots of blessings to shower on us. Pretty soon I began to feel spoilt, but I still wanted more.

We decided that the spare room would be done as a nursery.

“Yes, but our baby will sleep with us on our bed,” I announced.

“Yes, Saima! You can tie him up around your nose and carry him like that all day long. I won’t give out a peep.”

“Or tie her. Be ready to have a daughter Fawad,” I smiled at him when I said that.

All those frilly frocks, and bows and ribbons. My mind could not get enough of those pretty images.

“Yes dear! In fact, I am looking forward to a daughter.

Daughters are blessings and daddy’s little girls.”

Fawad would make a great father. Often, I’ve heard my friends say that they fell in love with their husbands all over again when they became fathers. I was looking forward to seeing Fawad in the role of a father.

I was immensely grateful for all these experiences that God was bestowing on me and I was ready to meet all the beautiful times that followed head on.

So while the nursery was being designed and shopping was getting done, I was becoming a baby whale. My appetite became huge and so did I along with it. I didn’t have any major cravings but I think my main guilty pleasure was eating all the time. I would practically carry a picnic basket each day to school. A good supply of snacks and goodies, with the main course for lunch and the plenty of fruits and nuts and water, lots of water. It took me a while to assemble all of this in the morning but when those cravings hit, I was glad I took the pains. I needed nourishment too, not just garbage to fill my tummy.

And the baby moved, at times I could feel it swim. “My little naughty one. I can’t wait to hold you baby!”

I would coo to it all the time.

Each time my doctor gave me a clean chit I would continue with renewed spirits with my regular day’s events. She often commented how lucky I was that I had a pregnancy that was relatively worry-free. She told me that many women were not so lucky. And many a times, it wasn’t their health that was the issue, but stress brought on by family and mostly husbands.

“We live in the dark ages, Saima. The stone ages.”

Stories of how many of them miscarry due to the pressures of in-laws or go through a premature birthing, may face the death of their child, still-births; the list went on.

“They won’t let them come in for their pre-natal appointments, to save a few bucks. My patients call me at times in the middle of the night crying and begging for some help over the phone. Their symptoms clearly show that they need to be brought into the emergency room but their families wait too long and they lose the baby and at times, even the mother. And what’s worse; at the end it’s all her fault. The fault of the grieving mother who has just lost her child. She didn’t look after herself or she didn’t take care. She never wanted the baby. She never even took her pregnancy seriously.”

I became even more sensitive to my blessings when I heard all of this. At least Fawad was not like this.

And the due-date was perfectly planned and scheduled. I would be done with my final term examinations and the summer break would begin. And my bundle of joy would join me during that vacation. It was almost as if I had calculated it like that.

Life gives us lemons many times, but sometimes it brews for you a cool iced tea. I was drinking my iced tea and basking in heavenly paradise.

It couldn’t get any better than this! •