She clapped when they brought out the lassis.

There is a little Indian restaurant near here, tucked into the corner of a strip mall, which for some strange reason is called Minerva. I love it so much that I am infamous for taking out of town guests there, for whom the experience is rather like being asked to strip naked, put on warpaint, and dance around a boiling pot of monkey brains.
Take it as a warning! If you come visit me I will drag you to Minerva, expecting you to love it. Come at your risk, and bring your own white bread. Today I did it again. I had hungry people with me, and as you now know, that is where I take hungry people. But I also went there partly as a bit of a celebration.
Because one year ago today, I went to Minerva with some friends. I was as round and fat as a gulab jamun. I asked the waiter if it was true that spicy food makes your baby come, and he said that oh yes, yes it's true. So I told him to bring me something spicy. Spicy! Spicy enough to get me looking more like a nice chappati right away. And he did. We all left, stuffed as samosas, and teasing him that his curries weren't hot enough. And then J and I fell asleep all by ourselves, for the last time.

I know I had slept restlessly for awhile, but 4am is the first time I really woke up, thinking "ow!" and looked at the clock.
About 6:30am J peeked in the shower to tell me goodbye on his way to work, and I said, "keep your phone on today."
By lunchtime I was writing down the intervals while I cleaned and gardened.
Around 3pm I had to pause every so often from staining baseboards, to put my hands on my knees and take a deep breath.
At 5 I had called J several times, leaving no message because his phone was off.
By 5:30 I was taking occasional laps around the living room, clenching and unclenching my hands.
When J finally came home at 6, he found me trying to eat a bowl of macarroni and sort of laughed when I said it was because I didn't think I'd eat again for awhile.
But by 7 or so, he knew.
8 or 9 something pm we made our first start for the hospital, called on the way, and were sent back.
11ish or so I was pacing the hall and saying, "time to go! time to go! I don't care what the nurse said time to go!!!"
And then we were going.
After midnight the doctor said we'd barely made it, and there was a flurry of nurses and needles and flying down the hall on a bed.
A bit after one in the morning J was holding my hand and I was saying, "she's never coming!" and the doctor was laughing, and then we all were. And J said, "you can do it".
And by 1:30- She was here. They held Her up, Her little arms stretching way out like She was embracing all the world already. And for a moment there, time stopped altogether.

It went on, of course, and more than 8,765 hours later my baby is about to have Her first birthday. She's almost ready to walk. She's tiny, but feisty, and determined to do things Herself. She laughs at everything. She's insatiably curious. She still curls up under my chin to listen to my heartbeat. And She love, love, loves to eat curry.