Sod The Dog - Beware of the Pregnant Wife

Summary - You look like a balloon, feel about as elegant as a hippo out of water, and your obscenely expensive jeans don't fit. Stupid pregnancy, hmph.

AN: That is about my state of mind at the moment.

This takes you into an eventful week in the life of a seven month pregnant .. well .. me, that I had the … pleasure .. of enduring a short time ago.

All names have been changed except mine, the changes are the same as those in 'the day I died.'

This might make more sense if you read the latter first, but it's not compulsory, it'll just help.

Italics signify thoughts.

Sod The Dog - Beware of the Pregnant Wife


It's official. I look like a pregnant hippo that has just been professionally gift wrapped.

Why can my husband not accept that his wife has switched species? Why does he constantly tell me that, for the ninth time, no, I do not resemble a hippo in any way, shape or form.

Sweet. He's the most pathetic liar on the planet. But sweet nonetheless.

My sister Shmita on the other hand, has been a pregnant neurotic before herself, and knows exactly what to say.

"You are right. You do look like a gift wrapped hippo."

Well, most of the time anyway.

"Thank you, Shmita. Thank you so much. I feel so much better now."

Unlike my husband and lying, I have mastered the art of sarcasm.

She shakes her head, giving a long suffering sigh before she continues, "You're pregnant, Aishwarya, you're supposed to look like a hippo."

All I manage in protest is an indignant squeak before she interrupts me, "But this," she tugs on my sari, "this doesn't help the gift wrap part."

I groan and sink deeper into her settee, "Nothing else I own would fit. It was this or a dressing gown."

Shmita then slips on her sympathetic face, "Poor baby .."

"Sod the baby, what about me??"

My older sister then jumps fully into older sister mode, giving me a gentle slap around the head, "I was talking about you, stupid."

Oh. Oops.

I smile guiltily, "Carry on."

"I know you feel like a hippo stuck in quick sand, I also know that you feel that if we painted you magnolia and stuck a number six on your forehead we could pass you off as a pretty convincing two bedroom semi-detached council house…"

Funnily enough, none of this was helping my self esteem.

"But it will pass. You'll have the baby, loose the weight and be the young, slim and pretty thing that you used to be."

Used to be? Is she calling me old, fat and ugly??


What!? Until?? Until what??!

She must have seen the panic in my face, and tactfully decided to change the topic.

"So .. how is Manjeet?"

"Don't change the subject by feigning interest in my husband! Until what?"

Shmita put on that falsely reassuring smile your mother always puts on to calm you .. right before she tells you the dog is dead, or Mr.Somjii of no.37 has eaten your guinea pig for dinner again or something to that effect. She makes to smooth back my hair, but I pull away.

"Until what, Shmita?"

She smiles sweetly, "Before you're pregnant again."

Damn. I forgot that .. how many kids did Manjeet want again?

"Oh stop it with the traumatised rabbit look already. You'll be fine. You could have a caesarean."

Great, so apparently I look like some form of rabbit/hippo hybrid .. wait a minute … did she just say what I thought she said? My eyes widen, turning me into more of a rabbit look-a-like. I'd forgotten the whole, getting the baby out part.

"You are really not helping, Shmita. Please can we talk about something else?"

By now, I really want a great big black hole to come and swallow me up.

"I guess so." Shmita smiles softly, and leans back into the cushioned back.

Wow, she backed down easily .. waaay to easily ..

"Ok, um .. how are the kids?"

My sister shrugged, "The same as usual. Nilesh and Sanjeev want to kill each other, but they're boys so what do you expect, and Rani has already been betrothed to someone."

A look of pure horror crosses my features as I sit bolt upright. "What? She's only a year old!"

She closes her eyes wearily and nodded, "I know. Mayur has already pointed out that we left it late."

Mayur. Shmita's husband. Unlike myself and Manjeet, Mayur and Shmita live together purely in dutiful tolerance .. at least until the Wedding debts are paid off.

"I thought you didn't want your daughter's to have arranged matches like we did?" I whispered, cautiously breaching the subject.

Shmita sighed miserably. "I know. I know. I know. But what was I to do, eh? I mean, I'm only her mother, what right to get to have a say in her future? Mayur is just like father."

The last part was added bitterly, and I began to feel uncomfortable, though I knew I shouldn't.

"Shmita .. Rani is like you. She'll be fine, what ever happens. What if she marries a Manjeet?"

My sisters eyes shot up to meet mine, and flashed dangerously. "What if she doesn't? What if she gets a Mayur like I did? How do you know that Manjeet isn't a Mayur?? How do you know that you aren't just a passing novelty that he'll grow tired of??"

I looked at my hands that were folded in my lap, before reaching out and squeezing one of hers. "Goodbye Shmita." I murmured, pushing myself awkwardly up from my seat I crossed the short distance to the door. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Closing the door, I moved as fast as my bump would allow, and yanked open the front door, forgetting to bless myself. I walked back to my own house a few doors down, and waited until I got inside, with the door securely shut.

Choking back a sob, I slid down the door to land in a crumpled heap by the letter box and on an uncomfortable prickly mat. Shmita had unconsciously touched upon my biggest fear in her frustration.

What if I am just a passing fancy?

I do not know how long I sat there, but when I looked up the clock read 5:42pm, Manjeet would be home at six, I had food to prepare. Using the door to pull myself up, I glanced briefly to my left to be met with that same statue of Vishnu I saw on my Wedding day, staring at me with a look of either pity or contempt on the serene ethereal face.

I like to think it was the first one.

Slowly shuffling my way to the mirror by the base of the stairs, I wiped the thick eyeliner clear from my cheeks where it had run to in the wake of my silly tears, vainly attempting to smooth out slightly ruffled hair, I gave my bump an affectionate pat before I busied myself with dinner, to help push away unwelcome thoughts.

Tomorrow, afterall, was another day.

But still … a nasty little voice was singing in the back of my mind, niggling away at my insecurities and I feel sick.

What if I really am just a passing fancy?


That is Monday sorted. I have the whole thing through to the next Monday all written out. It was a kinda depressing week that one, I had a ton of stuff dropped onto me and I was none too pleased.

Like I said, still a hippo, still a pregnant hippo and suffering from not seeing my feet .. though I have been assured my numerous people that they are, in fact, still there.

So, review me and lighten up my day, whilst I deal with a baby that has passed the footballer stage and has now started on Riverdance .. there it goes again *sigh* I'll bruise if it keeps this up.

Also, let me know if you want me to post the rest of the week.

Hindi Sparkling Diamond (and baby)