Baby Names!

Here are the names that we* have selected for The Baby Vohra:

The Baby Vohra (boy edition): "Braylon"

The Baby Vohra (girl edition): "Pocahontas" (it's important that our child have an Indian name, if possible)

*By "we," I mean "I." Names pending mom approval.

Seriously...This Sucks

Nine weeks in, the theme of the pregnancy is obviously Neha's all day sickness (the person who named in "morning" sickness is retarded). And though I've written about it a lot, I've generally made light of the situation and implied that she just had to tough it out. But it's actually gotten pretty bad, to the point that on Sunday, instead of coming back to DC from Chicago with me, Neha went to Ann Arbor to spend some time with her parents, in the hope that they could nurse her back to health (if nothing else, her mom is a far better cook than I). Unfortunately it hasn't worked, and Neha actually had to go to the hospital yesterday and get a couple of IVs because she was starting to get dehydrated. For the first time since we got the big news, it's not totally fun and exciting. It was actually scary. Everyone we've talked to, from the doctors who took care of Neha to our friends and family who have gone through similar experiences, have said that this is totally normal and just happens to some people, but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck. What's most frustating for me is that because Neha is in Ann Arbor, I can't even be there with her. For the first time, I truly do feel useless. And bad about it. The understanding is that as soon as the first trimester is up, all this gets a lot better. We're sort of banking on that at this point, because if it doesn't?

F***.

You're only saying it because it's true...

Since last week's sonogram and the breaking of the news to our families, we've slowly started telling our friends. And I have to say, it's been a lot of fun. You know your friends care about you and think highly of you, but it takes the announcement that you're having a baby for them to really express it. The stuff everyone has said to us has been so unbelievably nice, and for whatever reason, in offering their congratulations, people are totally free with the very sweet, overly sentimental comments. People say things like "I couldn't think of two people who'd make more perfect parents" and "there are definitely people who shouldn't have offspring, but you're not amongst them." And to me, people often say, "it's great that you're having a kid because you're so incredibly good looking." Just really nice stuff. And the excitement people show is just so genuine. I think that excitement comes from one of two things: 1) if you already have kids, you're excited to hear that someone will experience the same joys and struggles (just kidding Baby Vohra! There will be no struggles!) that you're going through; and 2) if you don't have kids, you can just play with your friends' newborns without having to deal with all the accompanying hassles (just kidding Baby Vohra! There will be no hassles!).

Sometimes when I break the news, people ask me if I'm excited, and I get a little taken aback, because, well, why wouldn't I be excited? But in my confusion at the question, I think I make a strange face, or I hesitate a bit too long on the phone, and people start thinking to themselves "omg he isn't excited...WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH HIM?!?" But that's a misread. Don't worry Baby Vohra! I'm totally excited!

Just promise to be hassle-free...

The Thanksgiving Travel Fiasco

Our doctor told us we were okay to start sharing our big news once we received the results of our sonogram, and so we decided that we would start on Thanksgiving, when we were home with the family and could tell my brother and sister-in-law (and of course Sohum). Given that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday to begin with (because of all the eating), I was naturally very excited to go home. Unfortunately, the problem, as it has been for the last few weeks, was Neha's ongoing battle with "morning" sickness.

On Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, Neha was struggling well into the evening. I came home from work early, and being the thoughtful husband that I am, brought her two pints of Haagen Daaz ice cream (coffee and strawberry) and a cheese quesadilla from Baja Fresh. Good lord does all that sounds disgusting. And you know what? It was. Neha tried to eat something that night, but as had happened on numerous nights before, she spent much of the time...[euphemism for throwing up]. Though we had wanted to avoid having her take medicine unnecessarily, I called an on-call doctor and had him prescribe nausea medication. As we got later into Wednesday evening, it occurred to me that our trip to Chicago might be in jeopardy, especially in light of the fact that our flight was at 8:30 in the morning, and we'd have to leave for the airport no later than 6AM. We hadn't yet packed anything, and I have established myself as incapable of packing properly. Packing is totally Neha's thing. And she was out of commission. Crap. Around 10:30, Neha announced that she didn't think she wanted to go to Chicago for the holiday. She wasn't up to the travel, and she didn't want to be sick and looking horrible in front of friends and family. At this point I sort of snapped. I understood she wasn't feeling well, but I couldn't understand her canceling the trip the night before. At the very least, I thought she should wake up, [euphemism for throw up] a little bit, and then decide whether she was up to it. So I started sort of yelling (more raising my voice than yelling, but dickish nonetheless) about how we had to go! And then I started pulling clothes out of the closet (with some direction from Neha on her stuff) and packing maniacally! We had to go! I wasn't taking no for an answer! I was just a big jerk. We went to bed, Neha still not looking good, me hoping that she'd recover enough for us to make the trip.

The next morning wasn't much better. I woke us up around 5AM (I figured we needed to get to the airport super early, because it was Thanksgiving Day. Neha got sick, but I hoped that once she got the initial throw up (enough with the euphemisms), she'd be good to go. She wasn't. She struggled through the process of getting dressed and getting all our stuff together, and as we were about to head out the door, she threw up again. At this point, I started to feel really bad and told her that we didn't have to go. But she was now annoyed at me (understandably) and decided that we were going to try and go, if only to further emphasize my assholishness. We got to the airport in less than 30 minutes because there was no traffic (meaning we'd woken up at least 30 minutes too early), and after I met Neha after having dropped the car off, she looked green, and didn't want to walk anywhere. It was so bad that we requested a wheelchair to take her to the gate (understand that the Southwest gates at Dulles International Airport are soooo far away from everything else, so the wheelchair was justified). Once in the wheelchair...she threw up again (as morning sickness experts at this point, we carry plastic bags wherever we go). God did I suck. But we were still going to go! Because she was in a wheelchair, we didn't have to wait in the security line (amazing, but it also meant that we got up at least an hour too early).

We arrived at the gate and looked for seats somewhere away from everyone else in case of further sickness. At Neha's request, I dutifully fetched her a peanut butter sandwich from Potbellys. She threw up 10 minutes after eating it. At this point I realized that I was the world's worst husband. I had dragged my pregnant wife to the airport at an ungodly hour of the morning, and was unable to do anything whilst she suffered through her unending bouts of nausea. Not knowing what to, I again told her that we could go back. She shot me a dirty look and told me that because we'd gone this far, we were getting on the plane. She didn't swear, but probably only because she was too weak to do so.

We boarded the plane, and naturally it was miserable, but fortunately not disastrous. Neha took a window seat (it was Southwest, so we had options) and immediately went to sleep. Not good sleep, of course, as she was constantly shifting and groaning and breathing into the air sickness bag, but sleep nonetheless. I fully expected her to get sick in one of the air sickness bags (just like in the movies!), but fortunately it never happened. We arrived in Chicago without any further incident, I wheeled Neha from the gate to the exit, where we were picked up by my dad, and before long we were back at my parents' house. We made it!

Once there Neha slept for a few hours, was pampered by my mom and Asmi (my aforementioned sister-in-law), who almost immediately guessed Neha was pregnant when she saw me take Neha a piece of dry toast, and looked at quizzically by Sohum, who appeared confused as to why she was in bed in the middle of the afternoon. After she awoke and was feeling a little stronger, we told my brother and our visiting family friends the big news, and everyone was all excited and happy. And Neha looked MUCH better. Surrounded by people and unable to think about how crappy she was feeling, she was far less bothered by her ongoing morning sickness. Later that day she confided to me that, despite all the drama in getting there, she was glad we had come.

And I was relieved. My tough love (or jerkiness, if you prefer), had paid off. I think it's fair to say that I am, in fact, the best husband ever.

This post was supposed to include news about telling everyone the big news, but it's too long already, so I leave it at this - I'm awesome. But not nearly as awesome as Neha is for putting up with me.

Sonogramazing!

This morning we had our first sonogram. It was a big deal because the sonogram was to confirm that the Baby Vohra's heartbeat was alright, and that everything was going okay thus far. Naturally, then, we were a little nervous last night when we went to bed. As it turns out, everything is okay thus far, and at our appointment, we actually got to see, for the first time, the baby. It was amazing - there wasn't a whole lot to see, but there was definitely something. The Baby Vohra is a little thing that looks like a bean in a small pouch. What was awesome was the heartbeat - it appeared as a bright flashing light, and the radiology tech turned up the volume and so we could hear what was a loudly beating heart. It was just so crazy. I couldn't stop smiling. With each passing day (or week) this gets more and more real. First there was the home pregnancy test. Then there was the blood test confirmation. And now this. And we actually got to bring the pictures home. It's just so awesome. I can't really describe.

Though the Baby Vohra still looks mostly like a bean, I think, at the same time, it looks like a little person, with stubby arms and legs. Neha disagreed and said if it looked like anything, it looked like a tadpole. I found that very offensive. The Baby Vohra is no tadpole! I suppose on this point, we'll have to agree to disagree.

Aside from the obvious goodness of the sonogram's confirmation that everything is going smoothly so far is the fact that we now feel comfortable announcing the news. Which we plan to do starting Thursday, Thanksgiving day, when we head home to Chicago. I'm terribly excited to tell my brother and sister-in-law, and their 17-month old son, Sohum. Sohum will be so excited that he has a cousin on the way! I'm sure he will celebrate by taking some tupperware out of a cabinet and walking around the room with it. He's a big fan of tupperware.

We'll also finally get to tell all our friends, which we've wanted to do for a while, but were unable to do until now. And I'll be able to direct them to (and force them to read) this blog.

So friends, now that you're reading, please note that the value of your friendship to us is directly correlated to the fanciness of the gift you get the Baby Vohra.

Henne Fails The Baby Vohra!

ANN ARBOR, MI - The University of Michigan had a chance to overcome the devastation of two shocking losses to start the season by beating their hated rivals, the Ohio State Buckeyes this afternoon on a cold, gray, and rainy day in Southeast Michigan. The Wolverines were expected to do so, especially in light of the fact that star senior QB Chad Henne, back from injury, has a history of winning games for The Baby Vohra. Sadly, a banged up Henne was unable to do so, and in the wake of a 14-3 defeat, fans couldn't help but question the previously-hyped connection between Henne and his lentil bean-sized biggest fan. Nonetheless, it was clear that this wasn't the Baby Vohra's fault. Said Veeral Shah via text message: "[t]he baby can't help with the big games...that's what happens when his great grandfather is Lloyd Carr*." Point well taken. Sigh. Mike Hart goes 0-4 against OSU in his career.

*Lloyd Carr not actually the Baby Vohra's great grandfather.

In non-imaginary news, while Neha's morning sickness continues to be bad, we may have discovered something that she can keep down - ice cream. She scarfed down two bowls of Haagan Daaz coffee ice cream with no ill effects. I know it's coffee flavored, and caffeine is off-limits, but our doctor gave such consumption her blessing, so long as Neha doesn't overdo it. We followed up the ice cream with some protein-filled scrambled eggs (not immediately after, so it's not quite as disgusting as it sounds). And, happily, there have been no "issues" since this morning. And by "issues," I mean "Neha throwing up uncontrollably." So that's good.

The plan now is to head to Taco Bell for a healthy dinner - Neha is requesting, and I'm not one to argue. It will be good to get her out of the house (she's been cooped up in here for four days). So that's that.

And to bring this post full circle, can you believe that Henne didn't win it for the Baby Vohra? What an asshole. Henne. Not the Baby Vohra.

Weeknight Out...

Today after work I attended the Michigan-Georgetown basketball game with some friends, including my friend Atul, who has a 7-month old daughter. I kept thinking, "hey, Atul has a kid and he's out on a weeknight, drinking beers and having a great time!"

And I was relieved.

I Am Jack's Total Inability To Understand...

Neha's morning sickness (what a misnomer!) has been really bad. She's struggling to keep any food down, and as a result, she's always feeling weak and tired, and as a result, she never wants to eat anything. It's a vicious cycle, and it's bad. The constant sickness also has her feeling pretty down. Today she missed her third day of work since we got the big news, and now she's trying to figure out what her options are in terms of working home for the next few weeks. I feel terrible, in part because I can see she's struggling, and in part because I feel like there isn't a whole lot that I can do to make her feel better, but also in part because I don't really get it. Obviously as a dude, there's no way I can experience what it is she's going through physically. But as I see her down and depressed about the whole situation, I sometimes get frustrated - I mean, we're having a baby, right? So even if the situation is physically horrible, shouldn't she be super excited and happy anyways, because this is all part of the process? Anyways, this what's going through my head, and I'm pretty sure that it makes me a total asshole, but there's nothing I can do about it. Because, as you see, my status as a male makes me incapable of the empathy necessary to fully embrace Neha's point of view. So while I try and be as supportive as possible, sometimes inside I'm sort like, "JUST EAT!!! THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE BEST TIME EVAR!!1! WHY AREN'T YOU LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT?!?"

I'm telling you, I am a complete non-empathic asshole. But am I trying. I mean, I make scrambled eggs whenever she requests them.

What's even worse (and ironic in an "that is what the word actually means" sort of way) is that when we first moved out to DC, I was completely overwhelmed by both the city and my new job, and every day I'd come home from the office totally flustered and depressed and on the verge of tears. I was totally irrational. Neha probably should have handled my blabbering like this:



Instead, she was completely supportive and took care of me and never got frustrated (or if she did, I never really realized it). And I'm struggling to do the same thing.

I suck. I'm going to make more scrambled eggs.

Not Today...

So today Neha, the Baby Vohra and I watching Michigan lose to Wisconsin 37-21. After Michigan's epic performance last week, which was inspired by the Baby Vohra, we were confident the team would pull it out even though they were down the entire game. Alas, it was not meant to be, and while at first it made me question the potency of The Baby Vohra's inspirational powers, I realized that Michigan's quarterback this game was not the incomparable Chad Henne, who has a clear connection to the Baby Vohra, but freshman Ryan "Lurch" Mallett, who, sadly, appears to be the reincarnation of the Sex Cannon. That is definitely not a good thing.

So the point of this post is to let all you Michigan fans know that the inspirational powers of The Baby Vohra need not be questioned. The connection is just with Henne, not Mallett. Of course, given than Mallett is Michigan's quarterback for the next three years, well, crap.

The Results Are In...

Neha called the doctor's office yesterday to get the results of Wednesday's blood test. The CVS test was right! She's pregnant (or "preggers," the much cooler term that I prefer). Again, there wasn't really any doubt, but it's nice to have it made official with a test that doesn't involve pee.

Last night we went to see "American Gangster" with our friends Zak and Nicole. Yesterday was Diwali also, so before the movie, we did our puja, which was lovely. But we were in a bit of a rush, so Neha didn't really get much to eat, and she'd been feeling crummy all day (she actually called in sick to work because the nausea was so bad). And then she'd actually gotten sick right before we left for the movie, but we thought that maybe she'd be okay. About an hour into the movie though, she looked like she was in pretty bad shape, so we had to leave. And believe you me, it's a good thing that we did.

I actually felt really bad. I think she wants to go out and do stuff because she knows I want to and doesn't want us to stay in because she's not feeling well. Which is of course awesome, but also totally unnecessary. It's all about The Baby Vohra, and if it doesn't want to go see "American Gangster," who am I to argue? I am curious, though, about how it ended...

That Was Quick...

This morning we went to our first doctor's appointment since the big news. We'd first gone to see our doctor a little over a month ago when we decided we wanted to take a shot at starting a family. Amongst other things we discussed at that initial appointment was how long it might take before we were, well, successful. Our doctor said it might take a while, and only if we hadn't had any luck after about 9 months should we be at all concerned...

Given that, the first thing our doctor said to us when she walked into the examination room this morning? "Wow, that was quick." Yeah, no kidding. What can I say? I'm good.

The appointment was a bit of a non-event otherwise. They drew Neha's blood, basically to confirm the pregnancy, but I was under the impression that they were going to do a sonogram or something. Not quite yet though. Getting the results of the blood test (tomorrow) will be good though, if only to validate the CVS pharmacy test (not that there's any doubt, but still, it makes it a little more official), but we assumed a little bit more was going to happen. As it turns out, we have to schedule a sonogram for next week, at which point we'll get to see the heartbeat, and, asuuming it's strong and healthy, the pregnancy should go alright. So obviously, the next appointment is the really important one. Fingers crossed...

Nonetheless, this appointment was still good. We learned about Neha's dietary restrictions (no raw fish, soft cheeses, or crack-cocaine) and appropriate exercise routines (Neha asked if it was okay for her to lift weights, which I found hysterical, because I don't think she's picked up a weight since we moved to DC (I'm sure she'll disagree and yell at me for writing this)).

I will not write here about the huge burp Neha let out on the way back to the car that echoed through the parking garage. Because it was not TOTALLY AMAZING.

Seriously, What the ****?

Yesterday after work, as I was getting on the train to go home, a young dad and his daughter (I assume) were getting off. The little girl, who could not have been more than 3 years old, was howling about not wanting to leave the train, and holding on to one of the inside handrails to prevent said departure. The dad, showing an incomprehensible amount of patience, simply smiled and gently pried her hands off the rails and carried her off while she continued to cry. He never got angry or raised his voice or looked remotely flustered. I was amazed. Had I been in his position, I'm positive my reaction would have been "what the **** is wrong with you? Let go of the god**** train!" (I have decided to start self-editing these posts given that at some point, they are likely to be read by our parents, and The Baby Vohra). I don't think I'm in any way mean or evil, and I want to be the best possible dad, but I'm not sure that I could ever comprehend that little girl's behavior. I guess I don't have a choice other than to figure it out in the next couple of years, or else the morning commute could get pretty ugly on bring-your-kid-to-work day. Dear Lord, please bless me with the necessary patience.

On other news, tomorrow morning is the doctor's appointment at which, I suppose, the news will be made official. What am I thinking? Holy ******* ****.

The Littlest Fan...

Yesterday the University of Michigan's football team staged a fabulous comeback to pull out a victory against archrival Michigan State, 28-24. Through much of the 4th quarter, the game looked bleak, but a hobbled Chad Henne put the team on his back and carried them to victory with two touchdown passes in the last minutes of the game. It was an amazing performance. And it made me wonder, what could have inspired Chad to play such a great game? And the only reasonable answer I could come up with? The Baby Vohra. Chad must have known what a huge Michigan fan The Baby Vohra is already (despite only being the size of a lentil bean), and he knew that he couldn't let him down.

This isn't the first time that Henne has come through in the clutch recently. Two weeks ago in a game against Illinois, Henne, with a separated shoulder came off the bench to lead Michigan to the win. And even though we didn't know about the Baby Vohra at that time, clearly Chad did somehow, and couldn't let him down.

I don't know how Chad Henne knew it, but he knew there was a lentil bean to whom these games meant so much, and he played accordingly. Chad Henne, The Baby Vohra, and the rest of us Michigan fans, thank you.

But The Hearing Should Be Fine...

My intent is not to make every post about a different thing that freaks me as a result of our big news, but given we're only one week in, I can't help it. I'll get better. Anyways, I saw this old "Daily Show" clip online (it wasn't YouTube, so I don't know how to embed it), in which Stephen Colbert was interviewing a bunch of people who were covered in tattoos (the piece was about the mistreatment of "colored" people - get it? "Colored"), and one of the guys they interviewed was this guy whose arms were covered in tattoos, and who had done that thing with his ears where he had put a hoop inside his ear so that there was a huge hole in the ear. The ear was disced. Do you know what I'm talking about? Where the ear is all stretched out and looks really freaky? I feel like I'm not doing a good job explaining it. And I can't find a picture. Dammit.

Anyways, my immediate reaction to seeing this guy? "Oh my god - I have to make sure The Baby Vohra does not do that to his/her ears, because it's disgusting" (if you have hugely stretched out, disced ears, I apologize, but it is). And then I started worrying about all the tattoos, and all the other potential outside influences - the drugs, the dating, etc. It's unreal. I've become an old man in seven days. But what am I going to do to stop the influences? Let's say The Baby Vohra is a boy and he wants to get an earring? I wore an earring in college, so it would be hypocritical of me to say that he can't get one. Problem is, while I thought that my earring looked awesome when I was in college, in retrospect, I don't think it was all that sweet. But can I tell The Baby Vohra that? Shouldn't he learn that lesson on his own? But I want him to look cool in college! Will he look cool with his earring? Maybe if he shaves his head. I'll encourage that.

And what if the Baby Vohra is a girl and she wants to get a tattoo? Her mom has a tattoo. Can we tell her no? On what grounds? Have we given up any leverage or credibility we may have had by trying to be cool when we were young and stupid?

Probably. Dammit.

Mom-to-be update - Neha has been struggling with what I guess is...morning sickness? She's woken up each of the last few days pretty nauseous. She actually had to call in sick both on Wednesday and today. We're only a couple of weeks in! I feel bad, mostly because I don't feel bad at all (physically, of course. Emotionally, I couldn't be in more pain when she's having a tough time.). Man...in these situations, the girl really does have it much tougher than the guy does. Actually I don't know about much tougher, but definitely tougher. Ha! Just kidding! Much tougher. Hopefully it gets better for her soon. I will keep you updated. And by "you," I mean The Baby Vohra, who may be reading this 20 years from now.

Finally, I've decided that I have to have one of these. I plan on being a "modern parent who wants to remain fashionable." I'm sure Neha feels the same way. So we need one of these things. We really have no choice.

Crap. This is the earring/tattoo thing all over again.

It's Never Too Soon To Pick Sides...

This kid and The Baby Vohra will definitely be friends: