What's In A Name...

Saavan, checking to see if we have termites.

We've gotten numerous questions about Saavan's name. How we came up with it, where it came from, what it means, etc. "Saavan" is actually the hindi word "sawan," which means "rainy season." We changed the spelling because there is no way anyone was going to properly pronounce our boy's name after seeing it spelled "Sawan." Even the way it's currently spelled, there's a good chance it will be mispronounced. Sigh. If only we'd named him "Jack."

As to where we got the name, anyone at all familiar with Neha knows that the biggest regret in her life is that she didn't grow up in India and star in Bollywood films. Though the Bollywood train passed Neha by, that has not stopped her from singing Hindi film songs at all times. One of the songs she constantly sings is this one (I cannot embed the video, which angers me so much I'm thinking of changing Saavan's name). Obviously, "sawan" features prominently in it. Around the same time she was singing this song regularly, we were also in half-joking, half-serious discussions about what we wanted to name kids if we were ever to get pregnant (this was a long time ago). I suggested we should use Sawan as a name, mostly because I'm awesome, but also in part because it sounded like "seven," which had been certified as a cool name based upon the fact it was what Andre Benjamin named his kid (George Costanza approves). Much to my surprise, Neha agreed (that Saavan was a nice name; she thought naming a kid "seven" was stupid). As a result, "Saavan" was basically our #1 name for a boy from the outset. In the last couple of months, Neha tried to pull some stunts and argue for the consideration of other names, but as the man, I made it clear we were sticking with Saavan. And by "made it clear," I mean "told Neha she could name the baby whatever she wanted."

At this point you're probably thinking, "this is bullsh*t. I'm only here to look at pictures of the baby." Fine. You animals. Some new eating/pooping/sleeping pictures from this past week below:

Blue Steel (also, the photo post)

Neha and I have brown eyes. Though you probably can't tell from the picture above because I don't have a fancy enough camera to do them justice, Saavan's eye's are bluish-gray. They're amazing. While his eyes have already and will surely continue to prompt "who's the father?" jokes, I love them and am praying they don't change color. At our appointment with the pediatrician the other day, I asked the doctor if his eyes would stay that color. "Don't worry," he told me, they'll change to a color more similar to yours at some point. When I responded that I was hoping that they didn't change, the doctor backpedaled a bit and declared that many times they did not change, so they could very well stay that color. The science does not appear to be exact. Given that Saavan has my genes, he'll invariably be handsome, but those blue-grey eyes will make him a true lady-killer. Assuming, of course, he stays awake long enough to put on some moves.

In the 5 days since his birth, Saavan's schedule has been this: sleep, eat, poop, sleep, cry, poop, sleep, eat, poop. We get a couple of hours of playtime with him every now and then, but the sleeping, eating, and pooping really dominate his schedule. I'm all for being one of these parents that gives my kids the freedom to do what they want, but I just think his current schedule is going to greatly impede his social life.

On another note, I have received numerous complaints about my failure to add new pictures of Saavan. As such, the remainder of this post is dedicated to the pictures we've taken through today (sadly, not as many as I would have hoped). The people have spoken: more photos, less pithty commentary. I'm just kidding. You'll never get rid of my pithy commentary.

Here are additional pictures of Saavan immediately after he was born, including him chilling naked under a heat lamp (the irony!), and him getting his first ever sponge bath:

Here are some more photos from the weekend of Saavan's birthday weekend, from Kumar's camera:

Here are some photos from the Vohra family weekend in the maternity ward, where Neha and I made good friends with multiple lactation consultants. Also included are pictures from our return home from the hospital (do I look fat in these photos? Yes. Now focus on the baby):

Enough photos for you people?!? You're animals. Enjoy the pics of Saavan in various stages of poop, eat, and sleep.

Say goodnight Saavan!

Saavan, Day 3 - Now With More Handsome!

A few updates three days into the life of The Baby Vohra:

Neha was upset at the picture of Saavan I posted previously on the blog, claiming it didn't convey just how cute he was and that he looked weird. I thought that was nonsense, but not wanting to fight in front of our child, caved to her demands to post the ridiculously adorable picture above. Don't tell Saavan how cute he is though, or he'll punch you in the face. I'm serious. Look at his right hand in the photo. He made that fist immediately after one of our nurses told him he should be in an Anne Geddes calendar.

Everyone keeps asking who Saavan looks like. It's a little early to definitively tell, but presumably he'll look like me and be devastatingly handsome. At the hospital my mom said he looked like E.T. I found this incredibly offensive. He clearly looks like Yoda.

We brought Saavan home today, which was an incredible moment that made all of this seem a lot more real. In the hospital over the last three days, we've constantly had doctors, nurses and "lactation consultants" watching over us to make sure that we weren't doing anything horrifically wrong and there was no danger that we would break the baby. Obviously, being home, we no longer have that safety blanket. Fortunately we learned a lot of valuable lessons on childcare in the hospital, and such lessons will help ease the transition into homelife. One important example we learned was the importance of burping. After Neha nursed Saavan on Saturday evening, he started crying uncontrollably, and we simply could not figure out why. As it turns out, we had forgotten to burp Saavan, and as a result, he was incredibly gassy and uncomfortable. He displayed this displeasure to us (and also cured the problem), by letting out a huge fart and crapping his pants. Incidentally, this is pretty much how I handle all of my gastrointestinal problems.

So thanks to Saavan, we've learned a valuable lesson that will help us along in the process. But Saavan does more than just guide us - he's also a great person with whom to discuss philosophy. In fact, yesterday I caught him just after he had gotten out of the sauna, and asked him whether he believed God was all-powerful, or all-good, because it didn't seem possible that he could be both. Saavan really pondered this question:



He still hasn't given me an answer.

Saavan also appears to be developing into a bit of a player. This morning I was asking him the appropriate number of girlfriends to have at any one time. His response?



What a pimp! Saavan is going to be quite the heartbreaker.

More pictures coming soon. I've become a total retard in terms of posting groups of photos, unfortunately.

Introducing...

The Baby Vohra:


Our baby boy, Saavan Singhal Vohra, was born on June 21, 2008, at 12:21 a.m. He weighed 6 pounds, 5 ounces, and was 20 inches long at birth. The Baby Vohra and his mom are doing great. The picture above doesn't nearly do justice to the amount of cuteness that oozes out of Saavan, and as you may recognize, in the picture above, he appears to be flicking you off. Please note that the above-photo was taken some 15 minutes after he emerged from the womb, and therefore any attitude he may have conveyed is entirely justified. You'd be pissed too if you were ripped out of your nutrient-filled jacuzzi after nine months of just chilling.

Check out some additional photos of Saavan and mom immediately after birth here (I'll find a better way to get pictures onto this site at some point).

The Baby Vohra has arrived! I promise to have him blogging in two weeks.

False Start...

This morning around 5AM, Neha started feeling some repetitive pain in her lower back. Hmmm...lower back pains...repetitive...

Contractions!

We didn't think to much about them at first, because they were spaced pretty far apart, and not overly painful, but in an abundance of caution, we decided to call our doctor's office, just to give them a heads up. We didn't speak to our doctor, but the nurse who answered the phone told us that we HAVE TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL. RIGHT NOW.

So I totally panicked and was throwing crap together running up and down the stairs trying to remember everything we needed. I got most of it, except for the Wii, which I stupidly left at home. Neha, however, was the total opposite of me - totally relaxed, such that she demanded she be allowed to take a shower before we headed to the hospital, and annoyed at the nurse who demanded we HURRY UP AND GO (the caps are necessary to convey just how frantic this woman was).

Given Neha's composure, I was able to collect myself, and while she showered, took out the trash, cleaned up the house a little bit, got the car seat, and made three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (it's important to have snacks). I was very proud of myself. When Neha took too long to get out of the shower, I started screaming that we were getting late and DIDN'T SHE CARE ABOUT HER UNBORN BABY?!?!, but aside from that, was fine. Neha, because she is a wonderful woman, put up with my crap without saying anything.

At the hospital, we were taken to a triage room where we explained what was going on, why we came in, and got a work up. We were then told that we were early, and that while Neha was having contractions, they were too far apart and irregular to be consistent, her water had not yet broken, and she had was not sufficiently dialated. Our doctor told us that we could hang around the hospital and walk around and see if that caused the contractions to speed up, or we could go home and come back when something was happening. Basically we were being told to get the f*ck out. Which was fine, actually, because we felt a little sheepish having come in so early, despite the fact that we were constantly assured that here was nothing to be embarrassed about; people came in with false labor symptoms all the time. Nonetheless, I thought it was a little embarrassing.

So we left. On the way out, we passed by a kindly old lady who volunteered in the lobby. Upon seeing us, she said, somewhat dejectedly, "not today, huh?"

Two nurses standing nearby overhead this and couldn't help but laugh and one of them exclaimed "oh that's so sad!"

Now that was embarrassing.

I Guess It's Sort of Cool...

I am going insane waiting for The Baby Vohra. The actual due date is still more than a week away, but since Saajan's birth, I keep hoping we're going to get an early surprise. I'm praying for it. I dunno why. We've waiting so long, so another week really shouldn't be a big deal, but I've reached some sort of invisible threshold at which point I am totally devoid of patience. These days, whenever Neha grimaces or expresses any sort of discomfort, I secretly hope she's having contractions. Actually there is nothing secret about it. I ask her if she's having contractions, and get pissed off when she reports that she isn't. And at night, when Neha gets up to go to the bathroom (which happens no less than 10 times - she is currently on the schedule of an 80-year old man), I pray that her water has broken. But alas, my hopes remain unfulfilled. Neha still looks like Fudgie The Whale.

We had another weekly doctor's appointment yesterday. I really get my hopes up at these appointments. I keep thinking the doctor will check everything out and announce "well, no time to head to the delivery room! We'll just have to deliver the baby right here!" But that hasn't happened yet. After yesterday's appointment, he told us that he expected the baby right around the 28th, the predicted date of delivery, and that was "fine." So, um, does it matter that I didn't think it's fine? That I am desperately awaiting the arrival of my new friend, and I cannot take it any longer?

If it did matter, the doctor didn't show it. In fact, he seemed remarkably content. In fact, in doing his examination, he was able to touch the baby's head. When he did, Neha's stomach moved. "Isn't that cool?" he asked.

Jesus. I'm sitting here waiting to meet The Baby Vohra, totally flustered and unable to think of anything else, and our doctor is doing parlor tricks.

Hey Hey Hey!

Neha at 38 weeks (photo taken June 18, 2008):



Below is a picture of Neha's long-lost twin:



The resemblance is uncanny! And now Neha has a kickass theme song.

"And she's gonna sing a song for yoooou..."

N'(Dian) Sync - Officially A Boy Band (For Now)...

N'(Dian) Sync is blowing up! This past Thursday, the band got its second member when our friends AC and Sejal gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Saajan Rocky Chokshi. This news was even more exciting given that AC and Sejal got pregnant around the same time we did, and had the same doctor. In fact, their expected due date was July 4, 2008 - 6 days after ours. Which means, presumably, we're up pretty soon (although I've decided the two-week window is bullsh*t). Actually, given that they were expected to deliver after us, I'm actually pretty jealous. I don't know what it is that AC did to speed up the process (maybe castor oil?), but the dude is definitely a master. Which is even more impressive in light of the fact that he had to overcome a University of Texas education.

And it turns out he's an excellent blogger as well (I am feeling...threatened). Check out Saajan's blog here. Don't miss AC's epic running diary of the labor and delivery. The bar has been set, and it's high (and involves sudoku!). I've got my work cut out for me.

Congrats Sejal and AC. We couldn't be happier for you. Given that by the time The Baby Vohra arrives, you guys will already be experts at this whole parenting thing, would you mind babysitting for us in a few weeks? We really want to see The Dark Knight.

I'd Like To Break The Window...

Yesterday was the second of the weekly OB/GYN appointments we will have now until the actual birth of The Baby Vohra. At the appointments, our doctor checks on the progress of Neha and the baby, and, based upon what she sees, tries to predict a bit on when the actual delivery will be.

Loyal readers of the blog know that the predicted date of delivery is June 28, about two weeks from now. But our doctors have consistently told us that the 28th represents more of the midpoint of a range - two weeks on either side - rather than an actual date when the baby might actually be born. So as of Saturday, we are actually within the two-week window in which it's possible that The Baby Vohra could be born. Now I am indescribably anxious to have this baby come out. I absolutely can't wait. And so at these weekly appointments, I'm waiting for our doctor to tell us that the date has moved up! And we should expect to be parents within a few days!

Unfortunately, in each of the two weeklies, our doctor has told us that based upon Neha's progression, we should still expect delivery around the 28th. Upon being so informed at this last appointment, I tried to stay as calm as possible, but this is totally unacceptable. I want this kid to be born! I mean, I was told there was a two-week window. What is the point of the goddamn two-week window? THE TWO-WEEK WINDOW IS USELESS!

Although this process has been long, we've tried to enjoy it to the extent possible (a variety of circumstances notwithstanding), but lately the waiting has just gotten hard (at least for me), presumably because we're just...so...close. It's also difficult because we've done everything we need to do - gotten the furniture and prepared the nursery, installed the baby seat, planned out our time off, etc. Two days ago we did The Baby Vohra's first load of laundry. It was adorable. But there is no laundry left to do. And so we can only wait. Dammit.

As we get closer, one of the things about Neha that has amazed me is her...selfishness. Seriously. I'm dying for this baby to come out. I'm asking her to jump up and down, eat spicy food, and walk as much as possible - anything I can think of to expedite the process. But Neha is constantly saying that we don't want to rush it. That it's better to let nature to take its course, and let The Baby Vohra join us out here when it's good and ready.

Screw that. It's easy for Neha to remain patient when she's carrying the baby. She gets to feel every kick, every hiccup, and every mush of The Baby Vohra into her ribs. I don't get any of that. She's already got a nine-month head-start on me in term of the bonding process. And it's obvious that she wants to build as much of a lead as she can, which is why she's so calm and non-chalant. Well I see through her nefarious plan. And I won't let it stand. Actually, I will let it stand. But I won't be happy about it. Sigh.

The Baby Vohra! Please come out! I shall never stop asking you.*

*Line lifted from my favorite book of all time.

No Country For Good Movies...

Neha and I went to see "Ironman" a couple of weeks ago (I was pleasantly surprised - it was actually very good), and the film got us to talking about when, if ever, we'll let The Baby Vohra watch R-rated movies (I know Ironman is PG-13. Whatever). This is quite a conundrum. R-rated movies typically have foul language, sex, violence, and drug use. Sometimes all at once. In other words, they're awesome. But they aren't appropriate film fare for impressionable young minds.

I'm not sure what the first R-rated movie I ever saw was, but the first I can remember was "A Nightmare On Elm Street." I watched it at a sleepover when I was 9-years old, and it was terrifying. That movie messed me up. As soon as it got dark out, I would refuse to look out the windows, and I would turn on every light in the house so that Freddy Krueger couldn't jump out of a corner and get me. I was so scared after seeing that movie that I had to sleep in my parents' room for like a month. So while the movie was rough on me, it was bad for them too. My mom spent hours worrying about whether my fragile psyche would recover. My dad was probably generally annoyed because I was a total pansy. Regardless, R-movies have the potential to cause serious problems if they're introduced at too early an age. Therefore, Neha and I have agreed that The Baby Vohra can start watching R-rated movies at age 30.

The ratings issue dovetails with another significant concern - what kind of movies will we actually be able to watch once The Baby Vohra is of movie-watching age? Much to Neha's chagrin, I'm a big fan of serious, often violent, often slow, dramatic features (I saw "There Will Be Blood" twice in the theater). Although I love "Zoolander" and its progeny. But that's neither here nor there. I'm almost positive that I will be unable to watch such movies, at least not on a regular occasion, upon the birth of The Baby Vohra. Instead, I'm guessing that I'll have to watch movies like "Kung Fu Panda." This is sad. Not that I hate pandas or kung fu, but animated features no longer do it for me. I struggle to sit through them without getting bored. But are these the only movies I'm going to be able to watch from here on out? I understand there is always the possibility of a babysitter, but that's a whole production with which I'm too lazy to deal.

Neha loves hindi movies. These, I suppose, are more plausible as fare for The Baby Vohra (little to no sex, cartoonish violence), but I am not a fan. There is far too much singing and dancing and nonsense for these to be films I could subscribe to, regardless of whether The Baby Vohra likes them. Although "Kung Fu Panda" remade as a hindi film could actually be pretty awesome.

I have come up with only one plausible solution: toughen up The Baby Vohra right away. Expose it to R-movies at the outset, so that it can handle anything, and I don't have to sacrifice the movies that I love. I'm playing "A Nightmare On Elm Street" in the delivery room.

Tiny Booties...

At our most recent (and final) sonogram last week, we saw The Baby Vohra's current positioning: its head is facing down (which is good), its butt is pushing out on the left side of Neha's stomach, and its feet are pushing out on the right (imagine an "L," upside-down and backwards). What makes this information especially exciting is the fact that now when The Baby Vohra acts like an alien and re-shapes Neha's stomach, we have an idea of what exactly is pushing. This afternoon we felt a huge bump on the right side of Neha's stomach, we were able to surmise that it was The baby Vohra's tiny foot. By tracing the bump with our hands, we were able to make out the front and the back of the foot (though we couldn't tell which was which), and the sides of the feet.*

I'm not sure I can convey just how incredible this was. This was almost like actual interaction with our unborn child. The whole notion that we're going to have a kid is still pretty vague and nebulous, but this definitely brought it a little closer to home. I'm still not sure I totally get it, and I know that I really won't until after the birth (and even then I might still not), but feeling that little foot helped move the process along. It was just so awesome. I cannot wait to meet that little foot, as well as the body that is attached to it, and just hang out all the time. If I can be this thrilled just at the idea of feeling a foot that I cannot see or really describe, I can't imagine what it will be like when The Baby Vohra is actually born. There's a strong possibility I might just stare at its feet the constantly. I hope that's not weird.

Of course, there is a problem. As best we can tell, The Baby Vohra has very tiny feet. And you know what that means, right?

*I've heard some parents say that when they were pregnant, they could actually see the baby's hands and feet making imprints on the mom's stomach. I'm sorry, but there is no frickin' way that is true.