April 2026 :: Almost There

April 1

The first day of April began with sad news. After returning from the office in the evening, I received a phone call from your Khalamoni telling us that her Boro Fupu had just passed away. As you may know from my earlier entries, she had been battling kidney disease for over six months. Allah has now granted her peace.

Breaking the news to your mother was not easy. She was in the bathroom and could tell from my face that something was wrong the moment she stepped out. I gently sat her down and told her. She had been somewhat prepared for it, but she still wept quietly for a while. Meanwhile, I stayed on the phone with your Khala and Nani as they prepared to visit the grieving family back in Bangladesh. It was already 10 or 11 at night there. Your mother was especially worried about your Nana, who was very close to his sister. Losing her is a deep loss for him. We did our best to stay connected with everyone back home through the evening.

On a separate note, today was also the first appointment with your mother's new gynaecologist. I could not accompany her due to work, but the doctor carried out the usual checks, monitoring your heartbeat and performing an ultrasound. Everything looks well overall, though your weight remains at the lower end of the satisfactory range. Something we will keep a gentle eye on.

April 2

The funeral was held today in Bangladesh. I went into the office but came straight home after lunch to be with your mother. She seems to be finding her footing again after the initial shock, and her strength, as always, is quietly impressive.

April 3

We had been invited to our friends NIS and FK's home today. We weren't sure whether to go given the heaviness in the air, but we decided it would do us good to step outside and breathe a little. There were other friends too, and as always there was plenty of food, laughter, and long conversations.

Your mother's friends got to feel your kicks too. One of your aunties, whom you might end up calling Daroga Khala after her nickname, is particularly loud and lively. According to your mother, every time she speaks you start moving around. I have a feeling the two of you are going to get along beautifully.

April 5

We took a little day trip to the nearby city of Kronberg im Taunus. NAJ and Daroga Khala joined us. It was a charming, hilly town, though being Easter, almost everything was closed.

Something rather funny happened along the way, and I simply cannot leave it out of this diary.

At some point during our walk, your mother urgently needed to use the toilet. With everything shut, we struggled to find a single open café or restaurant. After quite a bit of searching, we finally spotted a small café tucked away in a corner and hurried over. Now, your mother, who had been on the verge of a small crisis just moments earlier, walked straight in, stopped in front of the cake display, and calmly began deciding which cake she wanted to eat. The three of us just stood there, completely baffled. Was the toilet still a matter of urgency or not?

Only after carefully selecting a generous slice of cake did she finally make her way to the toilet.
To make things even funnier, once she sat down with her cake she was quite prepared to eat the whole thing. Both Daroga Khala and I had to step in and keep a firm eye on her portions because of her diabetes.

My son, when you are old enough to read this, please know that this responsibility now partially falls on you. Your mother's sugar cravings will need a dedicated team, and you are hereby officially recruited.

April 7

Our friends here in Frankfurt are throwing a party for your mother this coming Saturday. She knows about it and has even been part of the planning herself. But there are a few little surprises being prepared behind the scenes for the day, and I am quietly looking forward to seeing her face when they unfold.

April 8

We went shopping today. Little shopping, in the most literal sense of the word.

We bought your very first clothes. Tiny, soft, impossibly small little outfits. Standing there in the shop, holding them up and imagining how you will look in them, I found myself at a complete loss for words. It is one of those feelings that simply does not fit inside a sentence.

This was our first shopping trip for you. The first of many, I imagine. And if today is anything to go by, I will probably be the most embarrassingly emotional father at every single one of them.

I am so eagerly waiting for you, my baby.

April 10

Your mother and I went to view an apartment today. With you on the way, we have been looking for something bigger to give you more space.

Finding a flat in Germany has always been one of my biggest challenges here. With rising prices and inflation, rents have shot up dramatically. Today, I had to stretch a little beyond my budget. The apartment we saw is on Berger Strasse, one of the liveliest areas in Frankfurt. I immediately liked the neighbourhood while waiting outside the building. Then, stepping inside the flat, I knew right away I wanted it if they offered it to us.

It has three separate rooms and feels genuinely spacious. There were five or six other viewers there too. I earnestly asked the rental agent to please give us the place. Fingers crossed.

April 11

Today was a day of utter surprises and pure happiness. As mentioned earlier, our friends had been planning a baby shower for your mother, and today was the big day. I had no idea what to expect from a baby shower, but they surprised us in the biggest, most beautiful way possible.

It was held at NAJ and Daroga Khala's place, with them as the main organizers. YAN, TF, and MD handled the decorations. Everyone brought something. There were snacks, sweets, fruits. When we arrived, we were floored to see TRO and UFS, who had traveled all the way from Freiburg just to surprise us. Wow!

The living room was transformed for the party, decked out with blue ribbons and balloons. We kicked things off with a little photoshoot. Your Chacha was there too. He had arrived the night before and captured all the beautiful moments with his special camera. Before the party, the two of us even used his talent to take some photos with the cherry trees in the background, giving off a perfect autumn vibe.

Then came the food, and it was massive. So many dishes, all delicious.

But the most emotional moment came after the meal. I had planned a special surprise for your mother: a video montage of messages from our close family and friends who couldn't be there. Those back in Bangladesh, in the USA, or in other German cities. About two weeks ago, I asked them all to record short clips wishing your mom and you well. I compiled them into one video and played it for her and everyone else. She was genuinely surprised and deeply moved, with tears in her eyes. Seeing that made my entire day.

You also received so many wonderful gifts from your sweet uncles and aunts: clothes, a small cradle, toiletries, shopping coupons, a baby food warmer, baby bags, and more. We are truly grateful. Not just for the gifts, but for all the love and effort they poured into making this such a memorable party.

April 12

After such an eventful day yesterday, I thought I would relax a bit, but your mother wouldn't let me rest until I fixed the stroller we bought back in December. So your Chacha and I hauled it up from the cellar, unboxed it, and assembled it together. Now the home really looks like a baby is on the way.

April 14

Today was Pahela Boishakh, the first day of the Bengali New Year. Back in Bangladesh, we would celebrate with colourful clothes, hanging out with friends, and tasting local foods. Most of that isn't possible here in Frankfurt, but I tried to capture a bit of the spirit. In the morning, I made panta bhaat with several bhortas and enjoyed it.

Although the day started festively, it turned tense in the evening. Around 9 pm, your mother mentioned that your movements had become very light. She couldn't feel them as strongly as before. I quickly googled some advice and learned that drinking cold water might help, so I suggested it. She tried, but no change. She planned to see the gynaecologist the next day, but I couldn't wait that long. I told her to get ready, and we headed straight to the Uniklinik emergency around 10:30 pm.

A nurse at the maternity reception took her for a CTG scan. At first, she struggled to find the right spot on your mother's stomach, and there was no heartbeat on the monitor. Her worried expression stopped my breath. Time itself seemed to freeze. In that moment, I only prayed to Allah that nothing was wrong. After several tries, she finally found it, and your heartbeat appeared on the screen. What a relief. I took a deep breath and thanked Allah. That sound was the sweetest music to my ears.

The nurse monitored your heart rate for an hour, and the report came back good, no red flags. Next was the ultrasound. We waited in the room for over an hour as the doctor handled other emergencies — no complaints there. By then it was past midnight, and we were both exhausted.

The ultrasound was also fine, but then came the unexpected. The doctor explained that with your mother's elevated blood sugar not improving much on insulin, they wanted to admit her for proper monitoring. We were caught off guard. She had come with just the clothes on her back, no medicines, toothbrush, or anything else. But if the doctor thought it best, then so be it.

I left your mother at the hospital and got home past 2 am. I crashed quickly since I had a business trip the next day that I couldn't miss.

April 15

I woke up very early to get ready for my trip. First, I needed to drop off her medicines and clothes. I packed two sets of outfits, her medications, soap, toothbrush, and some quick food. Took an Uber to the hospital, handed everything over, and rushed to the station for my train. Unfortunately, I missed it by just 30 seconds. I was on the platform as it pulled away. Luckily, my ticket was flexible, so I waited an hour for the next one. I informed my colleagues about the situation. After a hectic day, I was back in Frankfurt by 9 pm. Visiting hours were over, so I couldn't see your mother today.

April 16

I went to see your mother after work today. A couple of friends were there too. It was kind of funny. Technically, she isn't sick, yet suddenly five people are visiting her. I think even the attendants were a bit surprised. But we didn't cause any chaos. We took a quiet walk around the hospital campus.

This shows the warmth of Bengali community spirit. We stand together, ensuring no one ever feels isolated or alone.

April 18

I picked up your baby bed today. One of your aunts, whom you might call 'Monu' (she's from Barisal and insisted on the nickname), was kind enough to help. She drove me to the IKEA store, and we brought it back in her car. The bed is your gift from your Chacha. Later in the afternoon, I went to the hospital to see your mother.

April 21

The last couple of days have been quite chaotic. With so many things happening at once, I've had to manage everything alone. Work pressure has been high since my boss is about to go on parental leave. On top of that, searching for a new flat means daily hassles that includes contacting agencies, viewing apartments.

With your mother admitted to the hospital, my routine has been completely upended. She was expecting release today, but the doctor wanted more checks, likely keeping her another day. She called me in tears, deeply upset. I'm not good in these situations and don't always know how to calm things down. I felt helpless and honestly, a bit annoyed too. I can cook fresh food and visit her every day, that's under my control. But her emotional breakdowns? Those are beyond me, and that's what gets to me most.

I get it: hospital life with plain food and no one around isn't ideal. But on the other hand, she has close monitoring from the doctors. Still, there's nothing I can do if they won't release her. Crying over the phone won't change that. Sometimes I just feel so powerless.

April 22

It's your mother's birthday. And the best part? She finally came home today. Happy birthday to her.

I was at the office when she called, bursting with excitement, to say the doctors had finally agreed to release her though they weren't thrilled about it. A couple of friends were planning to visit her at the hospital, so I rerouted them to our home and told them to keep it a surprise.

After work, I dashed to view a flat, then quickly grabbed groceries and meat for the birthday dinner. I told your mother I was expecting a friend from Kiel, so I'd cook when I got back. She didn't suspect a thing.

Once home, I hugged her tightly. Then I got straight to prepping dinner: lemon garlic chicken with potato wedges, plus bruschetta and tempura for starters.

Then our friends arrived. Your mother was surprised but even more, she was beaming. Seeing her talking, laughing, and smiling made my heart full. The home isn't a home without her.

We had a wonderful dinner together with everyone.

April 23

Your mother seemed a little tired today. Nothing serious for now, likely the high dose of insulin taking time to settle in her body.

April 25

We viewed another apartment today in Niederrad. It's particularly close to my office, and your mother likes it very much.

The one we liked before went to another applicant. Hard luck there.

April 28

The Niederrad apartment fell through as well. Quite disappointing. It seems we won't land a new flat before your Nani arrives.