Not because I ask my office cab drivers to describe the physical assets of the last female passenger they dropped home
Not because I am happy that there is an alcohol shop every half a kilometre in this country.
Not because I sit with friends and count the number of bottles I need to get drunk on, before bedding the ugly, uglier and the ugliest girl in office
Not because party-drugs, rape-drugs are available at my friendly neighbourhood chemist.
Not because I rate every girls' hotness quotient on the scale of 1 to 10.
Not because I think the girls who drink alcohol, wear western dresses bring it upon themselves.
Not because I want my women employees to work for me all night even, but then want to be dropped home first, or expect the family to come and fetch them.
Not because I settle property disputes by dishonouring the enemies' daughters.
Not because I want a fair, slim, tall girl for marriage.
Not because I say things like 'dented and painted women'.
Not because I pinch bottoms and brush against breasts everyday in the crowded buses and markets.
Not because I call boys Casanova and girls a slut.
Not because I don't register your FIR's or worse even entertain your complaints about harassment, molestations or stalking.
But because this 'I' exists in the society, in the neighbours house, in the extended family but it's not me or my father or my brother or my husband or my son.
Wake up. Change the 'I'. Change yourself. Change your father. Change your brother. Change your husband. Change your son.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
The best wife is a myth, if she's not a mother.
Will the sperms make the family lineage proud or sit freezing in the reluctance of the modern woman? However personal this question is, its layers are torn apart by friendly aunties and seething mothers, while the man is still framing it.
Whether the woman holds motherhood dear, is a question lost to our collective amnesia.
After all her womb is mightier than her brain, we hope. And all those hormones, if they won't hatch the egg, the heat of expectancy will fry them. God willing.
Sex-education might still be taboo but your marriage is the passport to your bedroom, for everyone. An empty score board by your first anniversary is forgivable, but by the second one you can feel the noose tightening. The pros will share a secret or two, however embarrassing. The concerned will enlighten you with the address of the 'reproduction gods' centre. The in-laws will lay out your biological secrets in a hope to save there off-spring from a misguided attack. And your concerned parents would pray for a plague to hit your job place.
Meanwhile, every child born in your immediate circle will have an uncanny resemblance to just one shape, 'question mark'. Every hello on your phone will eerily sound like 'when'. And every guest to your house will behave like an interrogation officer.
Holding your ground would depend on more than just how deep your sandal heels dig into the grass. Because not wanting a child, is a feeling meant to be as alien to the soft sex, as being friends with the frog is to the snake.
Succumb majority will, sooner or later. Because the most wonderful daughter-in-law is invisible and the best wife is a myth, if she's not a mother.
Whether the woman holds motherhood dear, is a question lost to our collective amnesia.
After all her womb is mightier than her brain, we hope. And all those hormones, if they won't hatch the egg, the heat of expectancy will fry them. God willing.
Sex-education might still be taboo but your marriage is the passport to your bedroom, for everyone. An empty score board by your first anniversary is forgivable, but by the second one you can feel the noose tightening. The pros will share a secret or two, however embarrassing. The concerned will enlighten you with the address of the 'reproduction gods' centre. The in-laws will lay out your biological secrets in a hope to save there off-spring from a misguided attack. And your concerned parents would pray for a plague to hit your job place.
Meanwhile, every child born in your immediate circle will have an uncanny resemblance to just one shape, 'question mark'. Every hello on your phone will eerily sound like 'when'. And every guest to your house will behave like an interrogation officer.
Holding your ground would depend on more than just how deep your sandal heels dig into the grass. Because not wanting a child, is a feeling meant to be as alien to the soft sex, as being friends with the frog is to the snake.
Succumb majority will, sooner or later. Because the most wonderful daughter-in-law is invisible and the best wife is a myth, if she's not a mother.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Don't know about God, but the Diaper-Inventor was definitely a male!
There is a silent brotherhood-conspiracy innovating brilliance, directly proportionate to women's liberation. Ahh, this is no shameless hijack of masculine brain-power. Retrace the gadgets' evolution over the years and every innovation will vouch for this.
While weapons and intoxicating beverages were staring at a post-graduation, the sticks of woods on the bed of coal were still begging for kindergarten admission. And then with women's ambition to fuel more than just cooking stoves, miraculously appeared gas stoves. As ladies stepped out for fetching friendly talks and talent-complementing hours, plumbing pipes and taps took on the earlier-feminine job on their hinges. The labyrinthine process of lighting gas lamps or mashaals was simplified with the snap of a switch. Washing machines were cycled in with another she-revolution and vacuum cleaner at least filled in for the absence of the expected-custodian.
With every irreversible step the fairer sex took towards their physical, emotional and financial freedom, the men-folk burnt midnight oil with vengeance. Coffee machines, tea-bags, dish washers and lights
But the Einsteinism that forced active-fatherhood sparked in the men's world is worth writing chronicles on. Bottle sterilisers ousted safe, old boiling. Packaged food dethroned the laboriousness of home-cooked food without guilt. 24/7 mother-special surveillance outvoted by baby sensors, cameras etc. And the grand prix goes to the Diapers. The saviour of this supreme gender, their egos, their pseudo hygiene and their reluctance to wash, dry, wash, dry, wash, dry nappies all day.
Which leaves me with a thought, what if they are able to bear kids? Wow.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
You are the condom, your son does not need
I think sons are the inflated ego balloons of our society. Or else explain the child-factory that the desire of having a male heir launches in uncountable families. Remember the neighbourhood family with five elder daughters and an infant son?
Sons of Sardars, Muslims, Hindus, Christians all are born into the protective sheath of a universal condom called Mother. She will cover every action of her little boy and fight every external factor out to change his world, all the time making sure he leaves no trace of his doing, good or bad.
And sadly this very protection gives him the fake confidence of immunity from the countless diseases he is capable of unleashing.
After all when was the last time you heard a mother say 'My son must have instigated his friends to drink'. Or ' yes they cannot have a baby, something is wrong with my son'. 'She tried her best to make this marriage work, but my son was too career driven, never even cooked for her'?
In fact how many households have you visited where a son offers you water, makes tea for you and the daughter just sits there watching her favourite game on television or playing with an X-box? How many mothers have you seen hanging in their balcony squeezing the last drop of worry out of their body wondering where and what their sons are doing, and more importantly what the neighbours will think?
The same mothers are a veil for their daughters. Their shadow does not perpetually make the daughters invisible, they also choke their being. They engulf their talent. Hide in their dark folds the daughters desire for education, career and respectable living. They black out their vision of a brighter tomorrow and force them to live a life that is not just vitamin-deficient.
Some do this unconsciously. And some get better with every piano, dance and cookery class they send their daughters exclusively to instead of the self-defence class they so need. No I am not suggesting you change your daughter into the friendly neighbourhood spiderman, but, at least give her fangs men are weary of.
If only we don't infuse our daughters with the feeling of being subservient, can we diffuse the hollow-machoism we feed our sons.
Sons of Sardars, Muslims, Hindus, Christians all are born into the protective sheath of a universal condom called Mother. She will cover every action of her little boy and fight every external factor out to change his world, all the time making sure he leaves no trace of his doing, good or bad.
And sadly this very protection gives him the fake confidence of immunity from the countless diseases he is capable of unleashing.
After all when was the last time you heard a mother say 'My son must have instigated his friends to drink'. Or ' yes they cannot have a baby, something is wrong with my son'. 'She tried her best to make this marriage work, but my son was too career driven, never even cooked for her'?
In fact how many households have you visited where a son offers you water, makes tea for you and the daughter just sits there watching her favourite game on television or playing with an X-box? How many mothers have you seen hanging in their balcony squeezing the last drop of worry out of their body wondering where and what their sons are doing, and more importantly what the neighbours will think?
The same mothers are a veil for their daughters. Their shadow does not perpetually make the daughters invisible, they also choke their being. They engulf their talent. Hide in their dark folds the daughters desire for education, career and respectable living. They black out their vision of a brighter tomorrow and force them to live a life that is not just vitamin-deficient.
Some do this unconsciously. And some get better with every piano, dance and cookery class they send their daughters exclusively to instead of the self-defence class they so need. No I am not suggesting you change your daughter into the friendly neighbourhood spiderman, but, at least give her fangs men are weary of.
If only we don't infuse our daughters with the feeling of being subservient, can we diffuse the hollow-machoism we feed our sons.
Monday, December 17, 2012
How far will you go for your baby's name?
Apple. Imagine you named your baby Apple and put in all that hardwork that Steve jobs and team put in. All those working hours, man power and finally that investment and then they started calling your baby 'Appu' 'Appee' ' Apps' and worse 'A'.
Yes that is just the way i feel every time my kids encounter a really over enthusiastic relative, dying-to-be-family friend or explosively affectionate neighbour. This when we spent at least four months of my eight month pregnancy zeroing in on an 'anti-pet-name' name. Getting calls from Bubbly, MIntu, Mini, Nanu, guglu nicknamed relatives way past their middle age only reaffirmed our decision. The only other affection-drooping activity equivalent to giving nicknames is an Indian mother feeding you. And that too sadly, can give you heartburn many a times.
So we decided to zero in on short tamper-proof names that had a beautiful meaning too. In other words 90% of names' dictionary just erased itself.
Next came the global warning criteria; name should be easy to be pronounced by other countries' inhabitants? Especially the ones on top of the NRI wish-list. Because you don't want your child to be called 'knee ya tee' (Niyati), 'Gay tree' (Gaitri) and the best 'Arya Man' (Aryamaan). So no Indrani, no Annapurna, no Vanalika etc.
Then came the most common criteria, that of choosing an uncommon name (with a beautiful meaning, easy to be pronounced by the world). 'How about Egaiarasu meaning king of charity?' I said. My husband pretended to be busy working. 'Well Sambaddha meaning wise?' I coaxed. 'Are you kidding me' said his look. ' Zaafir meaning victorious?' I pushed my luck. His silence was eerie and we were only talking about our kids' name and not my credit card bill.
Some people fancy keeping names on the beautiful places they have been too or they intend to go to. Paris, FLorence, Victoria, Orlando would be sheer compliments but imagine Paharganj, Rampur, Lucknow or Kullu. You know what I mean.
Miraculously we were still able to zero in on some names while we still had two months to go, and then parents walked all over them. 'No no that was my drivers name. That name was my neighbours who died poor. This name brought bad luck to the character in mythology. That was my grand mother-in-law's name and she was (silence) not very pleasing to live with. This name sounds funny, that demeaning, this Old, that difficult.
But sitting in the hospital, staring at the 'birth certificate form' a realisation deemed on us; the child breathes meaning and character into a name and not vice-a-versa. And that's when we decided on the two names for our twins straight from our heart. And does not matter how and who pronounces their names, as far as they do it with love and respect.
Dos
Keep it short because Vikramaaditya will become Vikram or Aaditya.
Keep with the times Anarkali or Siddheshwar, however exotic sounding would teleport them to another era.
Say it aloud with your surname at least ten times, make sure they do not sound funny together.
Choose an easy on the tongue and ear name.
Do nots
Don't have an open session on the short listed names, somebody will have some bad memory with one or the other name.
Don't keep a name that has a beautiful meaning but sounds convoluted.
Don't Keep a name that sounds beautiful but has no meaning, remember how people ask you for the meaning of your name all the time.
Don't worry about how who will pronounce the name, if we have learnt to say Aleksey, Dorofey, Liesebeth surely 'Knee ya tee' will sooner or later become 'Niyati'.
Yes that is just the way i feel every time my kids encounter a really over enthusiastic relative, dying-to-be-family friend or explosively affectionate neighbour. This when we spent at least four months of my eight month pregnancy zeroing in on an 'anti-pet-name' name. Getting calls from Bubbly, MIntu, Mini, Nanu, guglu nicknamed relatives way past their middle age only reaffirmed our decision. The only other affection-drooping activity equivalent to giving nicknames is an Indian mother feeding you. And that too sadly, can give you heartburn many a times.
So we decided to zero in on short tamper-proof names that had a beautiful meaning too. In other words 90% of names' dictionary just erased itself.
Next came the global warning criteria; name should be easy to be pronounced by other countries' inhabitants? Especially the ones on top of the NRI wish-list. Because you don't want your child to be called 'knee ya tee' (Niyati), 'Gay tree' (Gaitri) and the best 'Arya Man' (Aryamaan). So no Indrani, no Annapurna, no Vanalika etc.
Then came the most common criteria, that of choosing an uncommon name (with a beautiful meaning, easy to be pronounced by the world). 'How about Egaiarasu meaning king of charity?' I said. My husband pretended to be busy working. 'Well Sambaddha meaning wise?' I coaxed. 'Are you kidding me' said his look. ' Zaafir meaning victorious?' I pushed my luck. His silence was eerie and we were only talking about our kids' name and not my credit card bill.
Some people fancy keeping names on the beautiful places they have been too or they intend to go to. Paris, FLorence, Victoria, Orlando would be sheer compliments but imagine Paharganj, Rampur, Lucknow or Kullu. You know what I mean.
Miraculously we were still able to zero in on some names while we still had two months to go, and then parents walked all over them. 'No no that was my drivers name. That name was my neighbours who died poor. This name brought bad luck to the character in mythology. That was my grand mother-in-law's name and she was (silence) not very pleasing to live with. This name sounds funny, that demeaning, this Old, that difficult.
But sitting in the hospital, staring at the 'birth certificate form' a realisation deemed on us; the child breathes meaning and character into a name and not vice-a-versa. And that's when we decided on the two names for our twins straight from our heart. And does not matter how and who pronounces their names, as far as they do it with love and respect.
Dos
Keep it short because Vikramaaditya will become Vikram or Aaditya.
Keep with the times Anarkali or Siddheshwar, however exotic sounding would teleport them to another era.
Say it aloud with your surname at least ten times, make sure they do not sound funny together.
Choose an easy on the tongue and ear name.
Do nots
Don't have an open session on the short listed names, somebody will have some bad memory with one or the other name.
Don't keep a name that has a beautiful meaning but sounds convoluted.
Don't Keep a name that sounds beautiful but has no meaning, remember how people ask you for the meaning of your name all the time.
Don't worry about how who will pronounce the name, if we have learnt to say Aleksey, Dorofey, Liesebeth surely 'Knee ya tee' will sooner or later become 'Niyati'.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
When one kid is not enough
When i was in-experienced about motherhood, mothers flocked to me for advice. Should I go back to work, Is it too early? Should i stop breastfeeding, am i being selfish? My baby is too demanding, am i spoiling him/her? And the question that I absolutely loved to avoid; should we have a second kid?
Well by all means go ahead and give the world it's seventh billionth or may be the eight billionth of its member. And if he is the next Justin Bieber or she is the next Sunita WIlliams they will make you so proud and jealous of. Only if answering this question was so simple.
Worse this question tip-toes on you anytime, anywhere in between any conversation, specially, especially if you are discussing sexual fantasies. Hmm! It's not seasonal, not taboo, not sexist, not racist and neither scandalising, so its served to you on lunch table, between in-flight entertainment, during a big-fat-Indian-wedding and even baby showers.
Working women don't want a second kid until and unless they want to punish their baby's primary caretaker, their mother-in-law. The only other reason can be they love kids enough to sacrifice their professional growth twice over. I mean really love. Working men, well most of them wear the cloak of 'financial reality'. Rest keep goading the woman to have another baby so they can have a chance at reining in the wife. Only a handful of men have a mothers' heart that's really yearning for that brother/sister for their firstborn.
These mothers and fathers are like sadistic old people. They can hear, see and understand everything as per their convenience. That is what saw me through most of such conversations.
I just went with their flow or no flow. They just needed someone to listen to them and acknowledge the brilliance of their decision.
God cut short this decision from my parent life and am I glad?
Now that I am a Phd on this topic, no one seeks my advice lest I shatter their palace of convenience. Lest I tell them that two kids together are happy, playful, inquisitive, learning and a lot more relaxed. That they don't have to search company outside their homes. That they bloom in the comfort of being silly, messy, demanding, childlike together. I don't know what tomorrow has for them, but their today is happy.
So yes if your heart really wants that second child go for it.
Forget about finances (trust me god has a plan)
Manage your time the way you did for your first born ( I am sure family will still be just as supportive)
Age difference between siblings should not stop you ( 7 years difference is a common phenomena I have seen amongst my friends's children)
If your husband wants another child but is only flimsily helpful in raising the first one, talk to him directly about your concern.
However
Don't have a second child if the first one was also under societal pressure
Don't reproduce just because the first child wants company, it's not a toy remember.
Don't think of giving sibling comfort in later years just in case you are not there. They may or may not support each other tomorrow
Don't compromise on the upbringing of the first one, if you are in serious financial health.
Don't, don't, don't use your baby to infuse fresh life in your marriage.
Well by all means go ahead and give the world it's seventh billionth or may be the eight billionth of its member. And if he is the next Justin Bieber or she is the next Sunita WIlliams they will make you so proud and jealous of. Only if answering this question was so simple.
Worse this question tip-toes on you anytime, anywhere in between any conversation, specially, especially if you are discussing sexual fantasies. Hmm! It's not seasonal, not taboo, not sexist, not racist and neither scandalising, so its served to you on lunch table, between in-flight entertainment, during a big-fat-Indian-wedding and even baby showers.
Working women don't want a second kid until and unless they want to punish their baby's primary caretaker, their mother-in-law. The only other reason can be they love kids enough to sacrifice their professional growth twice over. I mean really love. Working men, well most of them wear the cloak of 'financial reality'. Rest keep goading the woman to have another baby so they can have a chance at reining in the wife. Only a handful of men have a mothers' heart that's really yearning for that brother/sister for their firstborn.
These mothers and fathers are like sadistic old people. They can hear, see and understand everything as per their convenience. That is what saw me through most of such conversations.
I just went with their flow or no flow. They just needed someone to listen to them and acknowledge the brilliance of their decision.
God cut short this decision from my parent life and am I glad?
Now that I am a Phd on this topic, no one seeks my advice lest I shatter their palace of convenience. Lest I tell them that two kids together are happy, playful, inquisitive, learning and a lot more relaxed. That they don't have to search company outside their homes. That they bloom in the comfort of being silly, messy, demanding, childlike together. I don't know what tomorrow has for them, but their today is happy.
So yes if your heart really wants that second child go for it.
Forget about finances (trust me god has a plan)
Manage your time the way you did for your first born ( I am sure family will still be just as supportive)
Age difference between siblings should not stop you ( 7 years difference is a common phenomena I have seen amongst my friends's children)
If your husband wants another child but is only flimsily helpful in raising the first one, talk to him directly about your concern.
However
Don't have a second child if the first one was also under societal pressure
Don't reproduce just because the first child wants company, it's not a toy remember.
Don't think of giving sibling comfort in later years just in case you are not there. They may or may not support each other tomorrow
Don't compromise on the upbringing of the first one, if you are in serious financial health.
Don't, don't, don't use your baby to infuse fresh life in your marriage.
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
Working father-who's that?
Your morning starts at 6 a.m. Next hour washes away under warm water splashes, twin-squeaky giggles, I-am-too-cute-for-my-shirt tantrums. Oh and dare you forget the anti-mosquito cream, your wife will sting you with her remark. Beware of wifengue!
Next share the breakfast, not eating but feeding. Just about manage a bite before you sprint to work. Aa aa what about the 'teach the baby bye-bye when you are just about to step out?'.
Finally office, meetings, work, meetings, work, call from the wife; 'the he's not eating properly'. More work, more meetings, call from the wife ;'the she is being naughty'. Still more work, meetings, call from the wife;' don't forget to buy their diapers (luckily no 'maid has not come again call' today) syrups, rash- cream etc etc'. The call again; 'the when are you coming, I am tired, loosing patience and sanity'.
Reach home, luckily just in time for dinner, dinner tantrums of the angels I mean. First bite; stand-up in the high chair, second bite; what's with the same boring food everyday expression, third bite; you almost choked me expression. Twentieth bite, if and when; I am going to blast, free me baaahhhh, booohhh.
Wash down tick-tick 1 your dinner tick-tick 2, change your tick-tick 3 clothes, sorry, time out. We need our milk bottle, I need my sanity. We need a diaper change, I have been changing them all day, I am human. We need story time, I played with them, took them for a walk, fed them lunch, cleared their toys, I am exhausted. We are not sleepy, I have no life, no friends, no calls, no movies, no eating out. Ok we are sleepy, I am sleepy too. Boooohh, baaahhhh, crib-crib-crib. Booohhh, baaaahh, crib-crib-crib.
Lights off, one down, another half an hour of listening, cajoling, comforting all out.
Finally your time.
Or did I hear the kid crying?
Next share the breakfast, not eating but feeding. Just about manage a bite before you sprint to work. Aa aa what about the 'teach the baby bye-bye when you are just about to step out?'.
Finally office, meetings, work, meetings, work, call from the wife; 'the he's not eating properly'. More work, more meetings, call from the wife ;'the she is being naughty'. Still more work, meetings, call from the wife;' don't forget to buy their diapers (luckily no 'maid has not come again call' today) syrups, rash- cream etc etc'. The call again; 'the when are you coming, I am tired, loosing patience and sanity'.
Reach home, luckily just in time for dinner, dinner tantrums of the angels I mean. First bite; stand-up in the high chair, second bite; what's with the same boring food everyday expression, third bite; you almost choked me expression. Twentieth bite, if and when; I am going to blast, free me baaahhhh, booohhh.
Wash down tick-tick 1 your dinner tick-tick 2, change your tick-tick 3 clothes, sorry, time out. We need our milk bottle, I need my sanity. We need a diaper change, I have been changing them all day, I am human. We need story time, I played with them, took them for a walk, fed them lunch, cleared their toys, I am exhausted. We are not sleepy, I have no life, no friends, no calls, no movies, no eating out. Ok we are sleepy, I am sleepy too. Boooohh, baaahhhh, crib-crib-crib. Booohhh, baaaahh, crib-crib-crib.
Lights off, one down, another half an hour of listening, cajoling, comforting all out.
Finally your time.
Or did I hear the kid crying?
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Bell's palsy and pregnancy
Yes it's the time when even a tiny-tot of an idea can make you smile. But what happens when you are 7 months pregnant and suffer a partial face paralysis? Bells palsy is not a condition I had ever heard of. I wish I had.
Just woke up one morning and felt my face nerves freezing one by one. Horrified checked with my gyncologist, she had no clue. Called my childhood friend and pedetrician to be. 'You have bells palsy', she said sounding super worried. 'GO meet this doctor, she will suggest some antibiotics, take them. For your own sake please'.
Surprise, surprise doctor was too scared to suggest anything, make it twin scared. Three days had passed away. Finally she cajoled me to meet an ENT specialist. ' start now, your kids won't get a taste of it, relax' said the specialist.
Next started with my stimulation therapy with my physiotherapist. Everyday half an hour of nerve-awakening therapy gave me some much needed positivity. All this while my mother and husband's support was crucial. Mirror-viewing was banned personally by me. However my physio told me to look into the mirror and do the exercise. 'ya really, I thought?' Wasn't brave enough to do that.
Meanwhile a twin-reason pushed me into an early delivery by a month. Daughter took her time to come home to us, boy came along in five days. Had just about partial reason to smile, even that was becoming impossible now. Lack of any physio-session and face exercise my face was becoming worse.
Spent next month running between the NICU visits for my daughter twice a day, 20 km one way, feeding my boy at home and physio sessions. All this left me exhausted and dehydrated which only encouraged my bells palsy.
Had no time for self-pity, though I am a sucker for it. Slowly but steadily things improved, kids came home, my partial eclipse was getting over. Now an year and two months later the bits are still there. The elephant has gone the tail remains. Hopefully will go.
Reason for bells palsy:
Extreme gush of cold air in your ear
Nerve gets pressed, which can also happen because of pregnancy
Extreme viral
Way out
Instant medication, within a week
Stimulation therapy, though some doctors advise against it, I personally feel it works.
In take of b12 or b12 rich food. It is good for the nerves
Positive thinking, which almost looks impossible to maintain sometimes
Facial exercise; blow your cheeks, blow a candle repeatedly, blow balloons, raise eyebrows, bring them together. Say the vowels loudly, super effective. Smile....try to
Just woke up one morning and felt my face nerves freezing one by one. Horrified checked with my gyncologist, she had no clue. Called my childhood friend and pedetrician to be. 'You have bells palsy', she said sounding super worried. 'GO meet this doctor, she will suggest some antibiotics, take them. For your own sake please'.
Surprise, surprise doctor was too scared to suggest anything, make it twin scared. Three days had passed away. Finally she cajoled me to meet an ENT specialist. ' start now, your kids won't get a taste of it, relax' said the specialist.
Next started with my stimulation therapy with my physiotherapist. Everyday half an hour of nerve-awakening therapy gave me some much needed positivity. All this while my mother and husband's support was crucial. Mirror-viewing was banned personally by me. However my physio told me to look into the mirror and do the exercise. 'ya really, I thought?' Wasn't brave enough to do that.
Meanwhile a twin-reason pushed me into an early delivery by a month. Daughter took her time to come home to us, boy came along in five days. Had just about partial reason to smile, even that was becoming impossible now. Lack of any physio-session and face exercise my face was becoming worse.
Spent next month running between the NICU visits for my daughter twice a day, 20 km one way, feeding my boy at home and physio sessions. All this left me exhausted and dehydrated which only encouraged my bells palsy.
Had no time for self-pity, though I am a sucker for it. Slowly but steadily things improved, kids came home, my partial eclipse was getting over. Now an year and two months later the bits are still there. The elephant has gone the tail remains. Hopefully will go.
Reason for bells palsy:
Extreme gush of cold air in your ear
Nerve gets pressed, which can also happen because of pregnancy
Extreme viral
Way out
Instant medication, within a week
Stimulation therapy, though some doctors advise against it, I personally feel it works.
In take of b12 or b12 rich food. It is good for the nerves
Positive thinking, which almost looks impossible to maintain sometimes
Facial exercise; blow your cheeks, blow a candle repeatedly, blow balloons, raise eyebrows, bring them together. Say the vowels loudly, super effective. Smile....try to
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