Pregnancy Diaries 8: Gadgets, gizmos and heartbeats

I do think that a lot of gadgets and gizmos that have been created around pregnancy are by fathers who felt that there were not involved enough in the pregnancy.

To be completely fair to him and give him due credit, rare though such occasions are, Worse Half bought lots of really useful and cute things for the baby.

But he also fell prey to some pretty pointless objects which as a typical Indian husband-worshipping wife, I have chosen to highlight :-)

Useless Gadget one: The Baby Monitor

Undoubtedly this has great use if you are staying in a sprawling bungalow in the American Suburbs or a massive ranch in Texas.

Why pray, do we need a baby monitor, when the baby can only be in one of the 2 rooms in your “super” spacious 880 super built up apartment, which includes the non-completely legal encroachment in the bedroom and the space squeezed out by breaking an addition layer of the wall in your bathroom? Not to mention 2 sets of grand-parents, a motley crew of support staff and an even greater hub of friends and well-wishers on hand. Chances are, your baby will never cry alone, as at the first whimper, any or all of the above will rush to the room to see why “shona” is crying.

And there was  Buchu (our four legged first born), who proved to be the most effective monitor of all, barking loudly whenever Aarinie cried and giving us baleful looks as if to say, “Guys, do something!”

Useless Gadget two: Listen to my heart beat gadget

Worse Half also bought a complex looking gadget which guaranteed that you could listen to the baby’s heart beat post 3 months. By the time Worse Half arrived it was already the 9^th month, so we were sure that we would be able to hear the baby’s heart beat.

Worse Half placed it lovingly on my rather large belly-welly. We listened at the other end, which were like the ear-plugs of a stethoscope.

And...

We heard our baby’s heartbeat for the first time - or so we thought. Amit and I held hands, just as they show in them romantic movies and I tried to smile coyly (as in them romantic movies)

The heart beats seemed quite adult and developed and in good shape. After 30 seconds, we stopped listening and holding hands and smilingly coyly. I mean, a heartbeat, is a heartbeat is a heartbeat. Couldn’t  really expect to break into a hip-hop beat or a tap dance.

We looked down at the USD 130 dollar gadget.

“Let’s put it on my stomach,” said Worse Half suddenly.

I guess the 130 dollars for 30 seconds of Dhak Dhak wasn’t really seemingly like value for money.

And so we plonked the gadget on Worse Half’s very marginally less large belly-welly.

And there it was. The same unmistakable heart-beat emanating out of Worse Half’s belly.

“How can I hear our baby’s heartbeats from my stomach,” said Worse Half, totally freaked out.

“I guess this means you have a womb and are experiencing a sympathetic pregnancy and we can hear sympathetic heart beats,” I said drily.

A hundred and thirty dollars to listen to our own heartbeats. Wow.

Worse Half finally got to hear the baby heart beats at the gynaecologist's clinic. He whipped out an old fashioned instrument (undoubtedly approved by the British Medical Association) which looked like a trumpet and placed the wider mouth at a particular part on my belly.

And there it was, a fast moving, quick footed, a frenzied yet mild heartbeat. It was the heartbeat of someone working overtime to grow to its full potential. It was the heartbeat of someone bursting to get out, pretty soon.

And it was the heartbeat of someone who definitely had a headful of hair and chubby cheeks. In that, I had an  unshakable faith, a resolute belief.