Pregnancy: Euphoria, Depression and Anti-depressants

 Are anti depressants safe during pregnancy? No. Not always!

Should you continue to take them? Yes, maybe.

The subject of antidepressants during pregnancy is riddled with confusion and controversy. Traditional wisdom of family and friends would make you believe that motherhood is the happiest event in your life. In most part they are right. But, while motherhood is a fulfilling journey, pregnancy is the most stressful event for a woman’s body. With hormones raging and body structure changing; with muscle cramps and nauseous mornings; with hunger pangs and food aversions, the body and mind play a peek-a-boo with each other- not always warning before throwing in surprises.

Don’t get me wrong. The anticipation of a healthy and happy baby is indeed the most deserving reward to cope with the stress of pregnancy. But not everyone and not every time can we remove ourselves from the realities of our lives to enjoy this journey. Often family and friends’ advice that you must stay happy for the well being of the the baby. This kind of premise and pressure has forced women through the ages to ignore what their bodies, minds and doctors have told them relentlessly- that the well being of their body and mind is paramount.

There is no argument that anti-depressants come with the baggage of side effects and risks. However, often the benefits surpass the risks. One can recall why they started the treatment in the first place. The assessment of whether anti-depressants are a greater risk to the baby or the lack of medication is more detrimental to the mother is not an easy one. Two innocent lives hang in the balance. While we always prefer medical choices in black and white, they seldom are. Each case is different and each body is unique. The duration of depression, the triggers and the severity of the ailment have to weigh in. The kind of medication, the support system, and the risks to the baby have to be considered. But all said and done it is the expectant mother and her doctor who have to draw the line on the sand. Most doctors would be candid and clear in mentioning the risks and would insist on close observations.

No doubt that the mother-child bond is eternal, but motherhood is not a solitary journey. Those who deal with the typical situation of being on anti-depressants during pregnancy must consider these three simple pointers to make the journey smoother.

Rope in family and friends: Family and friends provide the warmth and love much required in this special condition. They can comfort and calm you like no one else. If you can’t always invite them over, consider visiting them regularly or moving in with your mom or sister for a couple of weeks. Engage in groups activities, go out on a picnic or cook a meal together or watch fun films. The time spent would be memorable!

Go for regular counselling: Counselors have a unique training to reveal the harshest truths in the gentlest ways. Regular counselling helps is letting the steam off, sharing your worries and concerns and prevents single lens view by bringing in new perspectives. Consider them as agony aunts and don’t miss the appointments.

Exercise religiously: In the last few years there has been a boom in the health industry and no one needs telling the benefits of working out. From brisk walks on outdoor tracks to yoga and meditation groups, the options are not limited, even in your condition. Exercise will keep your mind and body healthy. And it will keep you looking your beautiful self!

But what you must always know is that you can walk this tight rope balance, and soon all this would be over!

50% off on Womanhood

The white silk polka-dot blouse slipped smoothly settling gently on my slender shoulders. The salon-set curls kissed the base of my neck. Peering through the mirror were the heavily kohled eyes while I colored my lips in the most fashionable color of the season- rust orange! It complimented my ivory skin and brought out my eyes. A final check and a smile to the mirror and I was ready. And just then the worst thought- self doubt- maybe the neckline was a little deeper than I should wear! Is the makeup too much? But I pushed these wretched self-defeating thoughts out. Today was the day I celebrate ‘being me’. I swirled around- with my bouncy hair and fish-cut long skirt swinging with me. I slipped my feet into the new black stiletto sandals, picked my handbag. And off I went.

“Reena, I’m leaving. And tea is left in the pan. Drink it before it is cold” – was my only instruction as I stepped out. Reena was my household help and she had been with us for 2 years.

Anyway, back to my day. So, I was going to meet my girlfriends in Khan Market at the ‘The Townhall’. The car whizzed through the city roads, the radio was playing ‘Girl on Fire’ by Alicia Keys when I saw a massive billboard offering big discounts on a high-end apparel brand, nudging me to ‘Exercise My Choice’. I had heard the phrase earlier…in Deepika Padukone’s Vogue video. With flowing hair and bare waist- Deepika had talked about how marriage, sex, motherhood- were all my choice, not his privilege. But my thoughts of Deepika and my choice faded away as I reached the restaurant. Promptly I hopped out to join my friends inside.

We were a bunch of ten women who met up occasionally, to celebrate and share our lives. And today we were all in a jovial mood. Most of my friends were already there. I joined the laughter and chatter. Exotic food was ordered and refreshing drinks were refilled. From latest sales to kid’s school, from upcoming holidays to expected guests- we talked about everything. Many of my friends had been gifted something special today. Chetna showed off a new rock on her finger. Richa had been surprised by the bouquet of flowers. And Nina was glowing after her Spa treatment that morning! The evening finally came to a close. We walked around the market and picked up random tit-bits that fancied our eyes. And then bid each other goodbye. I returned home tired but happy.

It was past 10 at night when I dumped the shopping bags on the sofa. I quickly changed into my night clothes. As I sat in front of my dressing table for the night beauty regimen, I heard Reena’s quiet, sheepish steps. She picked up my clothes to fold and turned back to leave. On the door, she paused, turned back and said. ‘Madam, Happy Womans Day.’  I gave her a broad smile and wished her the same. She left without another word.

As I sat in front of the mirror, I wondered what women’s day meant for her. Reena had spent today, like any other day- cleaning and cooking. She did big and small errands for us- made tea for me, offered water to the guests, folded my clothes, dusted the bookshelves… For her, life is not her choice. It was mine. Her daily routines are dictated by our movements and moods, for a salary that she saves and sends back home.

Reena’s life is riddled with responsibilities towards her family and duties towards her job with me. She doesn’t do what she wants, rather what she must. Being the third daughter, she had always been the unwelcome member of her family. She wanted to study but had to earn instead. And yet, she had no voice in the decisions of her life.

Was Woman’s day not supposed to address her issues. Wasn’t Woman’s day supposed to bring the focus on issues of women. Instead, the commercial trivialization of the day puts the focus on the already privileged- like me; where expensive brands give discounts to get brownie points from women who can afford them. And more importantly, are half the human population of the world going to get one day to celebrate themselves? Can we possibly address all the tough issues with big talks, happy promises, endorsements and celebrations? 

The gifts, flowers and spa treatments that we celebrated the ‘day’ with now seemed juvenile. Perhaps I had not understood the spirit of Woman’s Day. I had simply turned it into another ‘Rose Day’ or ‘Valentine’s Day’.

Helping empower another soul might have been more rewarding. I cannot tell the brands to what to do with the millions they spend on discounts and promotion on Women’s Day, but I knew exactly what I could do. I called Reena back and asked, “Do you still want to study?” The smile on her face was priceless. It was the best gift I got that day.

Reena’s unembellished greeting made me think about what Woman’s Day really meant  for me - to be kind to my own kind, everyday!

Why we love to hate Arnab

Recent research shows that every TV viewing person in India knows at least three people who hate Arnab Goswami. If I was not a statistician, I would have imagined that the total number of Arnab haters in India are more than the total number of people in India. Three times more, to be exact. So that obviously made me wonder - how has Mr. Goswami managed to get such large, loyal and devoted hate club. And yet manages to rake in the highest TRPs every night.

With that intriguing question in mind, I went on to do what any good researcher does - collect primary data. At the next office party, I asked a bunch of friends why people hate Arnab so unflinchingly. My question was almost a whisper in the crowd, but what followed was an uproar. Nearly everyone had an opinion, and boy, did they want to express it. Everyone spoke at once.

“So obnoxious”, somebody commented.

“The intimidating and opinionated moderation is so biased”, went another.

“The mockery and arbitrariness is humiliating”.

“He calls his guests liars, sycophants and cowards. Wonder why they come to the show?”.

“It is a mad crazy circus out there. What’s there to like in it?”, someone pleaded.

The conversation grew a life of its own. My friends started discussing yesterday’s episode where Arnab talked about MPs receiving microwaves and suitcases as gifts. He had bullied his panel and mocked them, saying, ‘while India goes to sleep after a cold meal, you need hot dinners to work for the people’. And then there were the episodes on JNU sedition charge and JAT reservations. And the BRT corridors and Odd-Ever rule in Delhi a few months back.  Each one, full of screaming and shouting; bellowing and bullying, disagreeing and disregarding. “Reduction of journalism”, was the consensus.

And all along, I was thinking- for a program that everyone claims to never want to watch, they sure seem to watch lot of it!

So why does India love to hate Arnab? For one, he has mass appeal. He takes the higher ground - and the mic, at the same time. Every weeknight he picks the subjects that can be directly blamed on the MPs, MLAs and their chamchas. Then he sits them down, interrogates them, gives them a shout, tells them how India is appalled and horrified at their noxious actions and dubious intentions. He demands apologies and resignations. And on the screen are the head shots of the pickled participants, for us to enjoy their discomfort and chagrin. He is the venting machine for an average middle class salaried viewer. We disrespect our politicians and he trashes them for us; we love belittling our neighbor Pakistan and he does it for us on TV; we love to hate and he sure knows how to make us relish our hatred.

In the polarized world of today everyone has an opinion. Look at your Facebook page, and my guess is four out of five original posts are opinions. Scroll through the comments section and you will realize that everyone has a viewpoint and they are voicing it vociferously. Without concern for other’s sentiments and without regard for correct language, opinions on social media are about one thing and one thing only - getting heard! Arnab’s debates provide avenue for just that. Take a stand, fight for your side and see the opponents being crushed! Unlike the friendly sophisticated discussion panels where story-angles are democratically deliberated and arguments are lost in the spirit of inclusiveness, Arnab’s debates are the comments section on social media. Brief, opinionated and full of spite! And like a boxing match, we are there to cheer our side and enjoy the spectacle along the way.

Arnab’s staunchest, most-boisterous haters are those enlightened souls who know it all. These are the pundits who could give you lessons on the anthropology, sociology, philosophy and all the other –ologies. While inside they may cringe at your ignorance and gullibility, outwardly they are ready to humor you as an equal. Because that’s what a free country means. Their secret sinful desire of name calling, fist fighting, mocking and venting is restricted to snubbing, dismissing and watching Newshour. Arnab’s debates are the soap opera of the pseudo-intellectuals where they can see their polarized opinions mirrored on screen – when Arnab takes their side, they love him, when he doesn’t they simply junk him for being a rustic, belligerent, ignorant fool!

And so it turn’s out, India doesn’t hate Arnab. If anything, we are thankful to him-for saying what we can’t say, to those we wouldn’t be able to and in a way we that’s beneath us! Arnab Goswami fuels are love for hatred and as loyal audiences we comply - we love to hate him.  

 Views expressed on the blog are solely that of the writer.  Join me on FB group PonderLust.

5 Must-Read-Secrets Of Overachievers and All-Rounders

Remember that kid in your class who was good at everything. He got good grades, did well in sports, was interested in music and had a bunch of cool friends. He even got selected for the school play. And whats worse, he always appeared to be having a whole lot of fun. And you wondered (and quite frankly I continued to wonder till very recently) how on-earth did he get time for everything.

The mystery confused me when I was younger. And then it faded off in the some dark corner for many many years. Only to reappear and haunt me.  As my son headed on from one grade to next, I probed further to solve this puzzle. I discovered the five secrets that are the making of confidence, performance, passion and personality. Here they are:

Play: There is some wisdom in the saying: All work and No play makes Jack a Dull Boy. So allow for play and hobbies. Play nourishes the mind. And hobbies teach kids to think about problems and formulate possible solutions. Skills that are valuable not only for school work but also for life. It empowers them and improves their self esteem. Just like you need to eat breakfast to loose weight - children need to play to focus on studies.

So, Don’t compromise and don’t negotiate on Play Time even during Exams.

Taste Success: Can you bake a cake that you’ve never tasted? Or wear a dress that you’ve never seen. I guess not. Then how can children strive for success without tasting success.

Victory is a unique experience- the elation and happiness; the pride and euphoria; the moment of being a Hero. And a child deserves to experience it- over and over again- before he can strive for it.

I know this sounds like a paradox. How can you experience success before being successful. But fear not. Help her achieve her first few successes. Gift them to her. Help her win a small friendly race. Prepare her for the poem recitation, write the best homework essay with her, or the nicest project work- and let her feel the elation of being a Hero! And ehe will take the next leap all by herself. Soon- it will become a ‘bad’ habit. She would work harder and longer and smarter- just for that feeling of victory.

Concepts not Chapters: Spend time and teach your little one. If she is not in senior school you still can teach her. Focus on discussing concepts. Go beyond the school text. Share a few interesting trivia. Watch youtube videos at night. Stay involved and learn together. School work will become a cake-walk. And your child would understand the underlying logic of the lesson. It will stay with her much longer than the final exams!

Let Go: Inspite of all the efforts, there would be times when reports are bad and morale is down. These are times of introspection and correction. Don’t take the convenient route and blame the child or the teacher. Be ruthless in pointing areas where she needs more work. And then forgive old mistakes. Just like that- turn a new leaf and go back to the grind.

Work Hard: Yes. Have a work regimen. Fix a time of day for work. And Work Hard. The best are those who have worked the hardest and worked the longest. So in the hour or two that she studies everyday- make sure she is focused. 

But most importantly, remember that she is your special one. She is unique and beautiful.  Don’t compare and contrast, because no one can be as perfect as she already is!

Voyeuristic Pleasures of a Housewife

I love Dr. House. His idiosyncratic, abusive, narcissistic, annoying, intrusive mind with the wrinkled limping, disheveled body is the sweet poison that I have quite enjoyed for all of the eight seasons. And I must add, I have envied his hot steaming lustful relationship with the thong wearing, cleavage showing Lisa Cuddy. Like many-many relationships of younger women with much older men, he has taught me about important life lessons, those about hallucinations, distrust, pranks, pity and depressions but mostly about Vicodin- the pain relieving, mind altering white pill that can take away all troubles. 

I have watched many popular medical dramas including the popular E.R and Grey’s anatomy. But nothing held my attention beyond the first few minutes.  Perhaps it was the clutter breaking absence of ‘white coats’ that Dr. House resolutely refused to wear. Or the lack of saccharine dipped drama with the cloyingly agreeable heroines that removed one from the heart of the medical mystery to be unraveled. Or the brilliance pitted against the chaos of his own mind. All of it made Dr. House very watchable. But mostly, I was in it for the detective and his  obsession with his mystery. The fact that Dr. House was pitifully miserable heightened the drama. No props were required.  The struggles with addiction of the vacant soul in its wretched existence has given a woeful depth that begs empathy. After every episode, I went back for more, feeling sorry for the brilliant doctor who never got his due. And the chemistry with the sexy-sharp-boss who made him beg, was explosive.

For me, Dr. Holmes played Sherlock Holmes- in a hospital. Intuitive, perceptive, impulsive and enthusiastic. With a sharp tongue and a sharper mind, the mystery entrapped the minds of the viewer more than anything. And as the story unraveled, similar to the Sherlock Holmes series, the solutions became more and more improbable and the story even more intriguing. 

Sherlock Holmes’ chemistry with Watson favoured Sherlock in the right light. Dr. House had a confidant and friend too. The unassuming mellow character of Dr. Wilson was used for heightening the personality of House.

And then there is the matter of Vicodin, the temporary but potent escape from the impossible realities. While Heroine and Opium was Sherlock’s drug of choice one can understand House could get his hands on Vicodin much more easily. He was in a hospital after all. 

Mysteries laced with narcotics of self loathing, sex and action have been a staple of many for escape and entertainment. The reality, without high-tension drama and no lives hanging in the balance; without nation-saving and police chasing; without thong-wearing sirens and eccentric geniuses- can be simply described as normal. And normal has been so Boring! Dr. House series has finished. And I need some Vicodin!