He has also been strict when he forcefully made me have Mother Horlicks, boiled eggs, bananas and some such healthy food (that I detested). Come weekends and he would get lot of fruits home, spend almost 2-3 hours deseeding them and preparing juice and store them in refrigerators for me. He never did such stuff before and hence he would at times end up churning fruits like orange with seeds (having lost patience to remove the seeds). He would make me drink the bitterest orange juice ever. And I would gulp it thinking how much effort and time he had invested in preparing it just for me. He would mockingly ask “How was it?” I would give him a DON’T-YOU-KNOW look. He would say, “It wasn’t that bitter, was it?” and we would have a hearty laugh over it.
Not only with regard to food, but otherwise also he has pampered in all ways possible. In the first trimester he brought two huge posters of babies and stuck them on the wall in our bedroom. The doctor had prescribed a cream to be smeared on my bump to prevent stretch marks and itching. All credit goes to him, for I still don’t have any stretch marks, as he regularly applied it. And there have been nights when I would wake up from sleep yelling out of pain in my legs. The leg muscles would cramp and Abbas would get up and massage my legs to give me some relief. (I’m gonna be fired for revealing all this in public)
I can go on and on but let me wrap it up here. Although I’m carrying the babies, he has done a lot to assure me comfort in ways more than one. I’m sure the babies are gonna be as much proud of their dad as their mom is of him.