Lately, I have had more time to think (especially when I should be sleeping....say at 3am). So, may I present, for your entertainment, a few little ditties that have been on Top 40 rotation in my mind..........
'All I Want For Christmas is a Good Night's Sleep'
All I want for Christmas is a good night's sleep
A good night's sleep
A good night's sleep
A good night's sleep
All I want for Christmas is a good night's sleep
So I can function like a normal person.
'Ankle Swells'
Ankle swells, ankle swells
Swollen all the way
Oh what fun it is to see your ankles swell away!
'O Vanished Feet'
O vanished feet
O vanished feet
My sight line to you keeps changing.
And finally,
'The 9 Months of Pregnancy'
On the first month of pregnancy my body gave to me a dose of crushing fatigue....
2 tender boobies
3 food aversions
4 raging hormones
Morning sickness
6 tiny bladders
7 pants elastic
8 month's expanding
9 OB appointments
Friday, December 24, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
baby edumication
You know when you go against your better judgement? How you kick yourself for not listening to that (sarcastic and pessimistic) little voice in your head that tells you to not do something? Well, that was me the other day when I woke up feeling a little, well, let's just say hesitant about the benefits of going to a breastfeeding class.... and then went to the darn thing anyway.
I've done some reading on this topic so I wasn't exactly sure how much new information there would be but I decided that if I even got one new insight out of the class it would have been worth it. So, with that in mind, I got up early, walked the dog, had my morning espresso, and drove up to the class.
When I arrived, one of the hospital techs was holding about six plastic babies under one arm, which really made me wish I had brought my camera. I asked him if it was OK to carry just one baby loosely under the arm, or if you really needed to have more than one to make the hold 'officially condoned', but sadly I am not learning to temper my sarcasm, nor apparently does he recognise me, because he took the question rather seriously and admonished me to never ever hold even one baby this way OK, I assured him, but I couldn't help adding that it looked comfortable. Meanwhile, the class leader was giving us directions to the conference room by dangling another plastic baby over a 25 foot drop and pointing downward. Awesome.
The pupils assembled, the power point engaged, and here we go people! Let's start with the benefits of breastfeeding...... and let me warn you about one thing. If anyone asks you why you are planning on breast over bottle do not, I repeat do not, cheerfully reply "because I am vain and I am cheap". Well, if you want to suss out the one cool, not uber uptight woman in the room give it a try, because when all the other mommy-types give you dirty looks you will know who you aren't going to be friends with. Spoiler alert: the correct answer is 'because it is so much better for the baby I couldn't imagine doing anything else'. Not many people admit to liking the whole 'making it easier to lose weight after the baby is born and not having to pay for formula' argument, but hell's bell's they seem like two big pluses to me.
And, just a small piece of advice: if you're going to be teaching a class based on a power point presentation, at least do us the favor of reading through the slides in advance. Enough said on that little topic. Eh, wait, I've got one more too: it might be best if you did not, as one of the pregnant women, make a comment about how you should have had a double espresso this morning. Well, at least if all the pregnant women in the room are Americans; if they are European go for it, they'll likely all agree with you instead of giving you the (you're poisioning your baby) stink eye.
So, you might be curious to know what I learned in class. I'll share with you some of the best questions from the other participants just so you can get a feel for things. Ready?
-on the topic of feeding pumped milk/formula from a bottle: "I have to heat the milk because it is much more nutritious warm, right?" Yes, that was an actual question.
-"If I eat a lot of chocolate, will my baby be addicted to chocolate?" Um, no.
-"I think I'm going to bottle feed because I don't really like healthy foods. I like to eat junk food mostly." Seriously, breast v bottle might not be the biggest dietary challenge your kid is going to face, but I'm just guessing on that one.
and, my favorite comment..........
-"why are you saying it will hurt when my baby breast feeds? It doesn't hurt when my husband plays with my nipples". Yeah. OK, well, just. Phew.
That was two hours of my life I'll never get back. Thanks for playing!
I've done some reading on this topic so I wasn't exactly sure how much new information there would be but I decided that if I even got one new insight out of the class it would have been worth it. So, with that in mind, I got up early, walked the dog, had my morning espresso, and drove up to the class.
When I arrived, one of the hospital techs was holding about six plastic babies under one arm, which really made me wish I had brought my camera. I asked him if it was OK to carry just one baby loosely under the arm, or if you really needed to have more than one to make the hold 'officially condoned', but sadly I am not learning to temper my sarcasm, nor apparently does he recognise me, because he took the question rather seriously and admonished me to never ever hold even one baby this way OK, I assured him, but I couldn't help adding that it looked comfortable. Meanwhile, the class leader was giving us directions to the conference room by dangling another plastic baby over a 25 foot drop and pointing downward. Awesome.
The pupils assembled, the power point engaged, and here we go people! Let's start with the benefits of breastfeeding...... and let me warn you about one thing. If anyone asks you why you are planning on breast over bottle do not, I repeat do not, cheerfully reply "because I am vain and I am cheap". Well, if you want to suss out the one cool, not uber uptight woman in the room give it a try, because when all the other mommy-types give you dirty looks you will know who you aren't going to be friends with. Spoiler alert: the correct answer is 'because it is so much better for the baby I couldn't imagine doing anything else'. Not many people admit to liking the whole 'making it easier to lose weight after the baby is born and not having to pay for formula' argument, but hell's bell's they seem like two big pluses to me.
And, just a small piece of advice: if you're going to be teaching a class based on a power point presentation, at least do us the favor of reading through the slides in advance. Enough said on that little topic. Eh, wait, I've got one more too: it might be best if you did not, as one of the pregnant women, make a comment about how you should have had a double espresso this morning. Well, at least if all the pregnant women in the room are Americans; if they are European go for it, they'll likely all agree with you instead of giving you the (you're poisioning your baby) stink eye.
So, you might be curious to know what I learned in class. I'll share with you some of the best questions from the other participants just so you can get a feel for things. Ready?
-on the topic of feeding pumped milk/formula from a bottle: "I have to heat the milk because it is much more nutritious warm, right?" Yes, that was an actual question.
-"If I eat a lot of chocolate, will my baby be addicted to chocolate?" Um, no.
-"I think I'm going to bottle feed because I don't really like healthy foods. I like to eat junk food mostly." Seriously, breast v bottle might not be the biggest dietary challenge your kid is going to face, but I'm just guessing on that one.
and, my favorite comment..........
-"why are you saying it will hurt when my baby breast feeds? It doesn't hurt when my husband plays with my nipples". Yeah. OK, well, just. Phew.
That was two hours of my life I'll never get back. Thanks for playing!
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Lazy Conversationalists
Apparently, I have now graduated to the point where I obviously want to talk about one thing and one thing only.
Who knew that as my belly grew my brain would, apparently, shrink?
So, yes, I'd love to spend an entire dinner talking with you about pregnancy, babies, and kids. I am, of course, fascinated by stories of other people's gestation, delivery, and child rearing experiences. Really, being regaled with tales such as these is the only reason I drag myself out of bed every morning. I never realized my life was so incomplete when I was thinking and talking about ridiculous topics that I previously found interesting. Politics, art, literature, food, wine, and even the weather are now such banal time wasters that I can't fathom even a few minutes spent on their discussion.
Just to make my life complete, please do tell me about all the side effects and/or complications you had with your pregnancy; I LOVE this stuff. And, yes, tell me how much weight you gained before you ask the (wholly inappropriate) question of what the scale tells me. Oh, pretty please I do so very much want to know how long you were in labor and how exhausted you felt afterward but not to worry because it is 'all so worth it and you'll forget all about it anyway'. If I'm going to forget about it why haven't you? And, more importantly, why do you feel the need to relive it as you tell me every tiny detail.....
If your little monster is misbehaving, perhaps you should focus on him rather than sidling in to tell me 'that baby will never be as easy to take care of as it is right now'. Really? Because if your kid were my kid, I would have taken him to the proverbial woodshed by now instead of telling tales to people who don't want to hear them.
Now, not everyone with kids does this. Just like not every old person speaks only of their various ailments. Maybe this is not a coincidence? Do the younger people who only speak of pregnancy/children grow into the old people who only talk about bodily functions/enemas? I'll check back in 35 years from now and let you know.
Who knew that as my belly grew my brain would, apparently, shrink?
So, yes, I'd love to spend an entire dinner talking with you about pregnancy, babies, and kids. I am, of course, fascinated by stories of other people's gestation, delivery, and child rearing experiences. Really, being regaled with tales such as these is the only reason I drag myself out of bed every morning. I never realized my life was so incomplete when I was thinking and talking about ridiculous topics that I previously found interesting. Politics, art, literature, food, wine, and even the weather are now such banal time wasters that I can't fathom even a few minutes spent on their discussion.
Just to make my life complete, please do tell me about all the side effects and/or complications you had with your pregnancy; I LOVE this stuff. And, yes, tell me how much weight you gained before you ask the (wholly inappropriate) question of what the scale tells me. Oh, pretty please I do so very much want to know how long you were in labor and how exhausted you felt afterward but not to worry because it is 'all so worth it and you'll forget all about it anyway'. If I'm going to forget about it why haven't you? And, more importantly, why do you feel the need to relive it as you tell me every tiny detail.....
If your little monster is misbehaving, perhaps you should focus on him rather than sidling in to tell me 'that baby will never be as easy to take care of as it is right now'. Really? Because if your kid were my kid, I would have taken him to the proverbial woodshed by now instead of telling tales to people who don't want to hear them.
Now, not everyone with kids does this. Just like not every old person speaks only of their various ailments. Maybe this is not a coincidence? Do the younger people who only speak of pregnancy/children grow into the old people who only talk about bodily functions/enemas? I'll check back in 35 years from now and let you know.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Hey Lady, eyes up!
Hmmmm... usually this happens with men and, ahem, another body part (or two). But yesterday, I 'met' a woman who was clearly not thinking of me as a whole person.
Prior to now, introductions were fairly standard and always assumed that the person you were meeting had a name. So imagine my surprise when a woman chose to begin her 'conversation' with me by avoiding eye contact, looking directly at my stomach area and asking "is this your first pregnancy?".
Not "What's your name?"
Not "Hi, I'm Brenda...."
Mmmm. So, I'm a body part to you? I'm just going to hazard a guess here, but we're not likely to get along. My one word answer should have been your clue to step off, but no, maybe you're right lady. It WILL be fun to continue to pester me without actually attempting to ask my name... go ahead, tell me that story about a couple you know, who are clearly crazy because they have been married ten years and are just now having a baby. You have found the perfect person to confide in, especially since you have made such an effort to learn so much about me.
And, just when it appears I've managed to get away from you, please feel free to notice that I'm eating red curry for lunch. Then please feel free to comment, loudly, that I shouldn't be eating that because 'it could hurt the baby'.
Honestly, I have to say I prefer the ogling, assumptions, and inane conversations I got when guys judge me based on body parts.
Prior to now, introductions were fairly standard and always assumed that the person you were meeting had a name. So imagine my surprise when a woman chose to begin her 'conversation' with me by avoiding eye contact, looking directly at my stomach area and asking "is this your first pregnancy?".
Not "What's your name?"
Not "Hi, I'm Brenda...."
Mmmm. So, I'm a body part to you? I'm just going to hazard a guess here, but we're not likely to get along. My one word answer should have been your clue to step off, but no, maybe you're right lady. It WILL be fun to continue to pester me without actually attempting to ask my name... go ahead, tell me that story about a couple you know, who are clearly crazy because they have been married ten years and are just now having a baby. You have found the perfect person to confide in, especially since you have made such an effort to learn so much about me.
And, just when it appears I've managed to get away from you, please feel free to notice that I'm eating red curry for lunch. Then please feel free to comment, loudly, that I shouldn't be eating that because 'it could hurt the baby'.
Honestly, I have to say I prefer the ogling, assumptions, and inane conversations I got when guys judge me based on body parts.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
I probably shouldn't admit this but......
Whenever I hear someone say 'babywearing' my next thought is always, and I mean always
"It puts the lotion in the basket"
Because, really, it just sounds like you're trying to make a shirt out of that kid. I think I'm going to call it 'hands free holding'. Who's with me?
"It puts the lotion in the basket"
Because, really, it just sounds like you're trying to make a shirt out of that kid. I think I'm going to call it 'hands free holding'. Who's with me?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
While you rub my belly, mind if I grab your ass?
It has recently come to my attention that pregnant women are socially accepted as public property. More specifically, anything in the abdominal area appears to be open for buddha business.
Go ahead, try to touch me. I dare you. Maybe you'll start to understand why everyone is so obsessed with the whole 'ten fingers, ten toes' thing when you lose a couple of 'em.
Let me spell this out for you; unless you are the one who put this baby in this uterus, the rule is hands off. No woman gets pregnant just to make sure that people are going to rub her 'round area'.... well, maybe a few women do actually do this, but you probably ought to put on some gloves before you touch those doozies. Frankly it is strange to me that I should even have to spell this out. Would people think it approprate if we all started grabbing the breasts of recently augmented women just because they are bigger than they used to be? I don't suggest you try that one either, at least not without some bail money set aside.
Most people have seemed genuinely suprised at my unwelcoming attitute to this brazen lack of manners and invasion of privacy, and a couple have even looked hurt when I tell them to get their mitts off me. To those people I say "What the hell is wrong with you idiots?!".
How about we address some specific justifications for this invasion of privacy:
'But you look beautiful' well, thank you but last I checked I was still pretty OK looking before I got myself knocked up and you wouldn't have thought it acceptable to just start laying hands all over me before....
'But it's for good luck' let's just see how that works out for you in the immediate.
'I just want to see if I can feel the baby' What if I tell you it feels like a gut punch; or better yet, simulate it for you?
'Don't you like it' Yes, I love feeling like common livestock, so thanks for reading my mind and indulging me.
I would just like to add that it is not like I exude a welcoming aura. I guarantee that I come across as less touchable than buddha. By far.
Go ahead, try to touch me. I dare you. Maybe you'll start to understand why everyone is so obsessed with the whole 'ten fingers, ten toes' thing when you lose a couple of 'em.
Let me spell this out for you; unless you are the one who put this baby in this uterus, the rule is hands off. No woman gets pregnant just to make sure that people are going to rub her 'round area'.... well, maybe a few women do actually do this, but you probably ought to put on some gloves before you touch those doozies. Frankly it is strange to me that I should even have to spell this out. Would people think it approprate if we all started grabbing the breasts of recently augmented women just because they are bigger than they used to be? I don't suggest you try that one either, at least not without some bail money set aside.
Most people have seemed genuinely suprised at my unwelcoming attitute to this brazen lack of manners and invasion of privacy, and a couple have even looked hurt when I tell them to get their mitts off me. To those people I say "What the hell is wrong with you idiots?!".
How about we address some specific justifications for this invasion of privacy:
'But you look beautiful' well, thank you but last I checked I was still pretty OK looking before I got myself knocked up and you wouldn't have thought it acceptable to just start laying hands all over me before....
'But it's for good luck' let's just see how that works out for you in the immediate.
'I just want to see if I can feel the baby' What if I tell you it feels like a gut punch; or better yet, simulate it for you?
'Don't you like it' Yes, I love feeling like common livestock, so thanks for reading my mind and indulging me.
I would just like to add that it is not like I exude a welcoming aura. I guarantee that I come across as less touchable than buddha. By far.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Adventures in Babysitting
If you're not old enough to remember this movie, stop reading now because I might be about to start complaining about your peer group......
I've already talked about the young guy in the OB department who is more cheerful than smart, but as it turns out, he's got some friends. They work the front desk, 'work' being used liberally in this case, and some of them join him in getting the rooms/patients ready for the doctor. At my last appointment, the room tech was making small talk with me when she asked if we knew the sex of the baby. 'Yes, its a boy' I replied, to which she exclaimed "That's amazing!". Unable to stop myself, I reminded her that it really wasn't that amazing, since we had only two possibilities going in. I mean, suprising sure, but amazing? If I'm giving you news that you clearly didn't expect, then I'd think you might be entitled to go with 'Amazing'...... but if you work in this department, you've probably heard both answers before.
Upon the conclusion of my appointment, the Doc told me to make an appointment for four weeks from now at the desk before I left. Dutifully, I walk up to the desk and wait while the techs discuss different stereo speaker options. Finally, one notices that I'm standing there and asks me what I need. An appointment, I tell her. "Why?" she asks me. "Because Dr. told me to make one for four weeks from now", I reply. "No, I meant, why, like what for?" says the tech, clearly trying to win her Brownie badge for customer service. "What am I supposed to put as the reason for the appointment?" There is some obvious confusion here, and we talk through the fact that the Dr. told me to come back in four weeks. "Well, but Why?". Really?
Now, forgive me. This may seem obvious to me, but you work in the OB department. All the women here are pregnant, myself included. We are all taking orders from the doctor, which we then pass on to you. I assure you, I am not trying to create a secret, stealth appointment for a pedicure. And yet, you ask 'Why?'....
I've already talked about the young guy in the OB department who is more cheerful than smart, but as it turns out, he's got some friends. They work the front desk, 'work' being used liberally in this case, and some of them join him in getting the rooms/patients ready for the doctor. At my last appointment, the room tech was making small talk with me when she asked if we knew the sex of the baby. 'Yes, its a boy' I replied, to which she exclaimed "That's amazing!". Unable to stop myself, I reminded her that it really wasn't that amazing, since we had only two possibilities going in. I mean, suprising sure, but amazing? If I'm giving you news that you clearly didn't expect, then I'd think you might be entitled to go with 'Amazing'...... but if you work in this department, you've probably heard both answers before.
Upon the conclusion of my appointment, the Doc told me to make an appointment for four weeks from now at the desk before I left. Dutifully, I walk up to the desk and wait while the techs discuss different stereo speaker options. Finally, one notices that I'm standing there and asks me what I need. An appointment, I tell her. "Why?" she asks me. "Because Dr. told me to make one for four weeks from now", I reply. "No, I meant, why, like what for?" says the tech, clearly trying to win her Brownie badge for customer service. "What am I supposed to put as the reason for the appointment?" There is some obvious confusion here, and we talk through the fact that the Dr. told me to come back in four weeks. "Well, but Why?". Really?
Now, forgive me. This may seem obvious to me, but you work in the OB department. All the women here are pregnant, myself included. We are all taking orders from the doctor, which we then pass on to you. I assure you, I am not trying to create a secret, stealth appointment for a pedicure. And yet, you ask 'Why?'....
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Not really what I had in mind........
So, it turns out that if you type in 'nipple shield' on Amazon.com, you get a strange mix of breastfeeding supplies and, well, stuff like this:
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
I learned to read for this?
One of the first things I wanted to do after I found out that I was pregnant was to buy some books. I should quickly say that I do love to buy me some books and generally can't get out of a bookstore for under $75, so this was not a strange feeling for me. Oh woe was me upon discovering that 98.2% of the pregnancy, parenting, and baby books out there are really not written with people like me in mind. That would be, generally speaking, people with a mind.
First of all, if you are 22, did not pay attention in any science class in any school you attended, have ADD, or love people who owe their celebrity to Oprah, we will not agree on this topic. Stop reading now and I won't have to apologize for having hurt your feelings.
However, if you are not 22, did pay attention at some point to a little science, do not have ADD, and like me, detest everyone whose celebrity was a gift from Oprah, good luck. Most of the books out there are not written or printed with you in mind. First, you've got your standard warnings, which I will loosely summarize for you. YOU ARE SCREWED. You can't avoid eating things that will cause terrible things to happen to your kid, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of its life. Then, you have the totally contradictory 'advice' on weight gain and pregnancy diet. You'll be told, Mr. Hyde style, that you should make all calories count, that it is important to moderate your weight gain so that it is slow and steady throughout the pregnancy, and that you are nourishing your child with every piece of food energy you ingest. Next, your friend Dr. Jekyll will use his scary voice to let you know that very few women actually stay within the weight guidelines, that you will be so hungry that you're likely to eat the arm off your husband if you aren't inhaling whatever it is you might want to eat at any moment, and that there is no way you'll ever get enough of all the recommended nutrients that you absolutely need to have to ensure a healthy baby. And as if that's not enough, you're told that if you don't like the giant thing you're becoming just don't look in the mirror. Because that's advice that we're all capable of listening to.
Then we move on to the possible complications, but you can relax. They're all normal, except when they're not. This will be followed with mostly ambiguous warning signs and the startlingly similar list of things that just happen to all the gals. Oh, and in case you weren't feeling stressed out enough (which you know you shouldn't be doing since it's important to remain calm at all times for the sake of the baby), let's talk about the actual labor and delivery and how wonderful (I mean HOLY CRAP look at all the things that can go wrong and FML how much this is all going to hurt) it will all be. There are likely to be several stories in these sections about how strong and empowered you will feel if you decide not to use any pain management at all. These will be just before the section that actually deals with pain management for us pussies who plan on using it.
Don't you feel so much better being informed now? Oh, don't forget to sign up for a 9 month subscription to a pregnancy magazine, so that every month you can read the same thing, slightly different. A sampling of headlines, although they will be slightly altered each month and moved around on the cover so you feel like you're getting some new information:
Why You Really Don't Want a C-Section. -wow, thanks, because last I checked there was a lot of input on this by your doctor. At the last minute. For a reason. Way to make me feel guilty in advance for something that might become a medical necessity.
Worried About Your Post Baby Body? -seriously? Nah, I was just thinking all those famous women shrunk right back up so it should be a cinch.
Must Have Baby ________ For The First Year -yay, nice to know the folks that subconsciously shape your purchasing in the. regular womens' mags have trained this bunch too.
Pregnancy Fashion -now, this is actually like the comedy section for me. All of the 'fashion' spreads in the magazines I have seen are chuckle worthy, since they take these models (models!) who look bloated and uncomfortable and put them in high heels and fancy dresses. Nobody looks remotely happy.
Cord Blood Banking -is it for you? -An overview of how valuable cord blood banking is, and a true examination of why it is totally OK to store something at ridiculous expense for the exclusive use of your family in the 0.03% chance you might need it or be able to use it, vice donating to a national database where you and others would have access to possible life saving care in the future.
And of course, the advertising. Fat babies, pudgy kids, skinny babies (OK, not that many skinny babies since the fat ones are supposed to be 'cuter'), all shilling some thing that you may or (more likely) may not need. Oh, and about as much boobie as a Nat Geo magazine, although they do all have babies attached to them. My favorite? An ad for a Boppy pillow that straight up tells you that if you don't buy a new one for your second child, he will know that he is less important to you than your first child is. Wow. All I can say about that is Wow.
Any wonder I'm now reading a biography of Andrew Jackson?
First of all, if you are 22, did not pay attention in any science class in any school you attended, have ADD, or love people who owe their celebrity to Oprah, we will not agree on this topic. Stop reading now and I won't have to apologize for having hurt your feelings.
However, if you are not 22, did pay attention at some point to a little science, do not have ADD, and like me, detest everyone whose celebrity was a gift from Oprah, good luck. Most of the books out there are not written or printed with you in mind. First, you've got your standard warnings, which I will loosely summarize for you. YOU ARE SCREWED. You can't avoid eating things that will cause terrible things to happen to your kid, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of its life. Then, you have the totally contradictory 'advice' on weight gain and pregnancy diet. You'll be told, Mr. Hyde style, that you should make all calories count, that it is important to moderate your weight gain so that it is slow and steady throughout the pregnancy, and that you are nourishing your child with every piece of food energy you ingest. Next, your friend Dr. Jekyll will use his scary voice to let you know that very few women actually stay within the weight guidelines, that you will be so hungry that you're likely to eat the arm off your husband if you aren't inhaling whatever it is you might want to eat at any moment, and that there is no way you'll ever get enough of all the recommended nutrients that you absolutely need to have to ensure a healthy baby. And as if that's not enough, you're told that if you don't like the giant thing you're becoming just don't look in the mirror. Because that's advice that we're all capable of listening to.
Then we move on to the possible complications, but you can relax. They're all normal, except when they're not. This will be followed with mostly ambiguous warning signs and the startlingly similar list of things that just happen to all the gals. Oh, and in case you weren't feeling stressed out enough (which you know you shouldn't be doing since it's important to remain calm at all times for the sake of the baby), let's talk about the actual labor and delivery and how wonderful (I mean HOLY CRAP look at all the things that can go wrong and FML how much this is all going to hurt) it will all be. There are likely to be several stories in these sections about how strong and empowered you will feel if you decide not to use any pain management at all. These will be just before the section that actually deals with pain management for us pussies who plan on using it.
Don't you feel so much better being informed now? Oh, don't forget to sign up for a 9 month subscription to a pregnancy magazine, so that every month you can read the same thing, slightly different. A sampling of headlines, although they will be slightly altered each month and moved around on the cover so you feel like you're getting some new information:
Why You Really Don't Want a C-Section. -wow, thanks, because last I checked there was a lot of input on this by your doctor. At the last minute. For a reason. Way to make me feel guilty in advance for something that might become a medical necessity.
Worried About Your Post Baby Body? -seriously? Nah, I was just thinking all those famous women shrunk right back up so it should be a cinch.
Must Have Baby ________ For The First Year -yay, nice to know the folks that subconsciously shape your purchasing in the. regular womens' mags have trained this bunch too.
Pregnancy Fashion -now, this is actually like the comedy section for me. All of the 'fashion' spreads in the magazines I have seen are chuckle worthy, since they take these models (models!) who look bloated and uncomfortable and put them in high heels and fancy dresses. Nobody looks remotely happy.
Cord Blood Banking -is it for you? -An overview of how valuable cord blood banking is, and a true examination of why it is totally OK to store something at ridiculous expense for the exclusive use of your family in the 0.03% chance you might need it or be able to use it, vice donating to a national database where you and others would have access to possible life saving care in the future.
And of course, the advertising. Fat babies, pudgy kids, skinny babies (OK, not that many skinny babies since the fat ones are supposed to be 'cuter'), all shilling some thing that you may or (more likely) may not need. Oh, and about as much boobie as a Nat Geo magazine, although they do all have babies attached to them. My favorite? An ad for a Boppy pillow that straight up tells you that if you don't buy a new one for your second child, he will know that he is less important to you than your first child is. Wow. All I can say about that is Wow.
Any wonder I'm now reading a biography of Andrew Jackson?
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Doogie's little brother.....
I've been very satisfied with the entire OB department at the hospital for the most part, but I do have to stifle some out loud guffaws whenever the lone male is the lucky 'guy' to call me back for my appointment. Seriously, who did this poor kid piss off to be stationed in the lady parts department? I feel for him, I do. Let me give you a mental picture: tall, blonde, kinda goofy in a sweet, midwestern kind of way, looks about 14 (maybe). He's always smiling an awkward little smile, and I would be too if I were him.
So, at my 12 week appointment I was lucky enough to draw the goofy straw. As I was walking back to the exam room it did cross my mind that I can clearly remember events the year he must have been born a mere dozen years prior. I chuckled to myself. Then we began the questioning..
"So, how are you feeling" Um, fine, this is a regularly scheduled appointment after all. He continues to ask me silly questions while taking my blood pressure (I thought you weren't supposed to talk while your BP was being measured?).
"How many times have you felt the baby kick?" WHAT? This is a 12 week appointment. Who can do that? I certainly hope I'm incubating something special in there, but it would be the strongest jumbo shrimp in the world if I could feel it kicking around at 12 weeks. So I asked, 'excuse me?'.
"How many times have you felt the baby kick?" What I was thinking was 'Look, kid, I know that you haven't made it far enough in JR High to have health class yet, but come on.' But, I'm trying to be nice here, so I keep that to myself. What I said was "No, it is way too early for that....." and this rather benign response seemed enough to make him a little sad. I almost felt like I should buy him a copy of 'What to Expect' just so he'd understand why this wasn't such a good question, at least for several more weeks.
So we continued to chat with each other while he was taking my vitals. At one point, I thought to myself 'When you get home tonight, you should ask your big brother Doogie for some helpful information on topics such as this...' and actually chuckled to myself. He said "something funny, ma'am?". No, nothing at all. Thanks for asking!
More questions later, and I'd decided his time was up. In between a couple of questions, I did say to the poor lad "I'm sorry. If you're looking for bubbly cheerful pregnant lady you've got the wrong room. You walked into practical and pessimistic today." Though this was the least sarcastic thing I'd thought the entire appointment, the look of slight disappointment on his face seemed to indicate it was a good thing I'd kept the previous comments to myself.
I bet if he is old enough to have a girlfriend, she's really into scrapbooking....
So, at my 12 week appointment I was lucky enough to draw the goofy straw. As I was walking back to the exam room it did cross my mind that I can clearly remember events the year he must have been born a mere dozen years prior. I chuckled to myself. Then we began the questioning..
"So, how are you feeling" Um, fine, this is a regularly scheduled appointment after all. He continues to ask me silly questions while taking my blood pressure (I thought you weren't supposed to talk while your BP was being measured?).
"How many times have you felt the baby kick?" WHAT? This is a 12 week appointment. Who can do that? I certainly hope I'm incubating something special in there, but it would be the strongest jumbo shrimp in the world if I could feel it kicking around at 12 weeks. So I asked, 'excuse me?'.
"How many times have you felt the baby kick?" What I was thinking was 'Look, kid, I know that you haven't made it far enough in JR High to have health class yet, but come on.' But, I'm trying to be nice here, so I keep that to myself. What I said was "No, it is way too early for that....." and this rather benign response seemed enough to make him a little sad. I almost felt like I should buy him a copy of 'What to Expect' just so he'd understand why this wasn't such a good question, at least for several more weeks.
So we continued to chat with each other while he was taking my vitals. At one point, I thought to myself 'When you get home tonight, you should ask your big brother Doogie for some helpful information on topics such as this...' and actually chuckled to myself. He said "something funny, ma'am?". No, nothing at all. Thanks for asking!
More questions later, and I'd decided his time was up. In between a couple of questions, I did say to the poor lad "I'm sorry. If you're looking for bubbly cheerful pregnant lady you've got the wrong room. You walked into practical and pessimistic today." Though this was the least sarcastic thing I'd thought the entire appointment, the look of slight disappointment on his face seemed to indicate it was a good thing I'd kept the previous comments to myself.
I bet if he is old enough to have a girlfriend, she's really into scrapbooking....
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Throwdown: Buy Buy vs backwards R
On a recent trip back to the US, my husband and I decided to strap on our 'consumer culture' belts and brave two places that have always caused me to break into a cold sweat. Yes, that's right.... one afternoon it was the dual misery of Buy Buy Baby and Babies R Us.
Holy ridiculous crap, Batman!
Look, I'm more than willing to admit that as a modern, first-world occupying human, I am ridiculously coddled. I'm pretty sure that any of us reading this are ridiculously coddled..... and if we don't recognize that we're all trying to fool ourselves. But I'm starting to fear for the future if some of this stuff is for real. I've previously dissed on wipe warmers because, well, come on people. Even my mother, who is absolutely the sweetest person I've ever met (clearly I get my black humor from my father) gave a hearty guffaw when told of the existence of warmers for wipes. I believe her statement was something like "if the kid can't get used to a cold wipe on its butt, it has a lot of disappointment coming down the pike". Others have said something like "I had one of those - it's called rubbing the wipe together with my TWO HANDS". They come in portable versions for the car to boot! So, let's move on.
Personally, should we have a girl and she is born hairless and looking like a boy, you would sooner be able to kill me than strap one of those creepy looking headbands on her poor (likely splotchy) little head. Seriously, how hard is it to say 'she's a girl'? So hard that you'd rather trick your kid out in the equivalent of lacy baby bling? Nor do I think I turned out too badly (caustic sarcasm aside) and I sucked on plenty of shopping cart handles... so there will be no customized shopping cart couch for this kid. And, should precious' pacifier fall on the ground, you won't find me running back to the car to plug in my portable UV pacifier sterilization station. No, I did not just make that up. I'm also planning on testing bath water with my hand rather than using a temperature sensing rubber ducky. Maybe, if I avoid buying this crazy plastic crap, we'll save enough petroleum to drive around in our classic car one day.
You can gaze upon endless selections of this garish, emotionally driven excess at either of the establishments listed above but honestly they do differ. As disgusting as the name of Buy Buy Baby really happens to be, it seems to be less house of baby horrors and more like a Bed Bath & Beyond for the not yet truly mobile types, and I suppose it should be as the two are from the same parent company. There were actually far more options in both size and design, and many more useful products to lay hands on in the 'BBB', complete with products made of actual natural materials and not just plastics. It was quite amusing to watch my husband test drive strollers up the aisle. Babies R Us, however, was another story. This seemed to be a place where plastic was king, and size mattered. Sort of like shopping for a stroller by comparing the self propelled versions of an Excursion and a Hummer, actually. It struck me as a bit of a primer/feeder for the equally nauseating Toys R Us that so conveniently seemed to be colonizing one side of the store. It made me think they're trying to hook you and your kid on cheap plastic young so you'll be too addicted to say no by the time you're buying actual toys. You know, first one's always free......
I've decided to start looking at things through a Michael Pollan style pair of glasses 'If your grandmother wouldn't recognize that as a tool for baby care, then don't buy it'. This doesn't mean that there aren't some pretty cool things out there, but they seem to be improvements on things that have been used in the past, rather than inventions for our hyper sterilized, hyper gadget driven marketplace.
First stop, an internet thrift store!
Holy ridiculous crap, Batman!
Look, I'm more than willing to admit that as a modern, first-world occupying human, I am ridiculously coddled. I'm pretty sure that any of us reading this are ridiculously coddled..... and if we don't recognize that we're all trying to fool ourselves. But I'm starting to fear for the future if some of this stuff is for real. I've previously dissed on wipe warmers because, well, come on people. Even my mother, who is absolutely the sweetest person I've ever met (clearly I get my black humor from my father) gave a hearty guffaw when told of the existence of warmers for wipes. I believe her statement was something like "if the kid can't get used to a cold wipe on its butt, it has a lot of disappointment coming down the pike". Others have said something like "I had one of those - it's called rubbing the wipe together with my TWO HANDS". They come in portable versions for the car to boot! So, let's move on.
Personally, should we have a girl and she is born hairless and looking like a boy, you would sooner be able to kill me than strap one of those creepy looking headbands on her poor (likely splotchy) little head. Seriously, how hard is it to say 'she's a girl'? So hard that you'd rather trick your kid out in the equivalent of lacy baby bling? Nor do I think I turned out too badly (caustic sarcasm aside) and I sucked on plenty of shopping cart handles... so there will be no customized shopping cart couch for this kid. And, should precious' pacifier fall on the ground, you won't find me running back to the car to plug in my portable UV pacifier sterilization station. No, I did not just make that up. I'm also planning on testing bath water with my hand rather than using a temperature sensing rubber ducky. Maybe, if I avoid buying this crazy plastic crap, we'll save enough petroleum to drive around in our classic car one day.
You can gaze upon endless selections of this garish, emotionally driven excess at either of the establishments listed above but honestly they do differ. As disgusting as the name of Buy Buy Baby really happens to be, it seems to be less house of baby horrors and more like a Bed Bath & Beyond for the not yet truly mobile types, and I suppose it should be as the two are from the same parent company. There were actually far more options in both size and design, and many more useful products to lay hands on in the 'BBB', complete with products made of actual natural materials and not just plastics. It was quite amusing to watch my husband test drive strollers up the aisle. Babies R Us, however, was another story. This seemed to be a place where plastic was king, and size mattered. Sort of like shopping for a stroller by comparing the self propelled versions of an Excursion and a Hummer, actually. It struck me as a bit of a primer/feeder for the equally nauseating Toys R Us that so conveniently seemed to be colonizing one side of the store. It made me think they're trying to hook you and your kid on cheap plastic young so you'll be too addicted to say no by the time you're buying actual toys. You know, first one's always free......
I've decided to start looking at things through a Michael Pollan style pair of glasses 'If your grandmother wouldn't recognize that as a tool for baby care, then don't buy it'. This doesn't mean that there aren't some pretty cool things out there, but they seem to be improvements on things that have been used in the past, rather than inventions for our hyper sterilized, hyper gadget driven marketplace.
First stop, an internet thrift store!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The nausea returns
So, I've been feeling quite a bit less nauseous the last couple of weeks, for which I am extremely thankful as it seemed to clear up right before our whirlwind trip to the US.... where I have been exposed to the full force of the insanity that is the marketing campaign geared to making you feel guilty if you don't spend every last cent you've got on either 'the pregnancy experience' or your kid.
First of all, I will say that I enjoy a beautifully made, quality piece of clothing. I also don't mind spending some money on clothes provided they are well made, classic, and are going to last me years and years. What I do mind is being asked to pay a tariff for the "privilege" of a giant elastic body condom where a waist band should be. Although I realize this clothing modification is going to be necessary for likely the next year-ish, I don't happen to think a year is a terribly long time (despite my resignation to this next year, in particular, seeming to be an eternity). I absolutely am not willing to fork over serious clothes money for something that's not going to be with me for more than one congressional term, nor are you ever going to convince me that these clothes are more expensive to make. I'm fairly certain that to whichever Indonesian 12 year old is sewing my shorts, the elastic waistband is far less of a challenge than an actual waist with a zipper and button. In fact, I bet the maternity fabrication line is coveted duty, because by the time I really need your handiwork, I won't be able to SEE that you've double sewn the seam in just the wrong place, so you can relax a little.
So, perhaps I should have apologized to the sales lady upon walking into one of the mommy stores. But any urge to do that was stifled by the fact that she was a tiny tiny thing. I know we cannot hire based on physicality but it is a bit of a mind bender to walk into a store for pregnant people and be greeted by a woman who on her worst, most sodium bloated, humidity swollen, carbo loaded day would have no problem sliding into a size 2. Seriously, I appreciate the black humor here but, really? The least she could have done is wear one of those strap on "bumps" that they happily offer to let you try on. Again with the 'someone is laughing at this, but it sure isn't me' moment; you think I want to make that happen any sooner? Um, thanks but no thanks lady. Also, I'd just like to point out that in particular, in these type of stores, it might be nice to stock clothes that span seasons. I understand the shift to the new season is necessary, but when your demographic is motivated as much if not more by growing girth as it is by the swing to fall/spring/whatever it might be very very considerate to stock more than five pairs of shorts when the forecast is still for temperatures in the high 80's. I'm just sayin', little lady who is so cheerful she might be Rachel Ray's cousin with a tapeworm, you might have sold me more than one pair of shorts if you had had more than one pair of shorts for me to try on, despite my aversion to your criminally high prices.
Coming soon: I enter a store called Buy Buy Baby and do not projectile vomit, although it did require some discipline.
First of all, I will say that I enjoy a beautifully made, quality piece of clothing. I also don't mind spending some money on clothes provided they are well made, classic, and are going to last me years and years. What I do mind is being asked to pay a tariff for the "privilege" of a giant elastic body condom where a waist band should be. Although I realize this clothing modification is going to be necessary for likely the next year-ish, I don't happen to think a year is a terribly long time (despite my resignation to this next year, in particular, seeming to be an eternity). I absolutely am not willing to fork over serious clothes money for something that's not going to be with me for more than one congressional term, nor are you ever going to convince me that these clothes are more expensive to make. I'm fairly certain that to whichever Indonesian 12 year old is sewing my shorts, the elastic waistband is far less of a challenge than an actual waist with a zipper and button. In fact, I bet the maternity fabrication line is coveted duty, because by the time I really need your handiwork, I won't be able to SEE that you've double sewn the seam in just the wrong place, so you can relax a little.
So, perhaps I should have apologized to the sales lady upon walking into one of the mommy stores. But any urge to do that was stifled by the fact that she was a tiny tiny thing. I know we cannot hire based on physicality but it is a bit of a mind bender to walk into a store for pregnant people and be greeted by a woman who on her worst, most sodium bloated, humidity swollen, carbo loaded day would have no problem sliding into a size 2. Seriously, I appreciate the black humor here but, really? The least she could have done is wear one of those strap on "bumps" that they happily offer to let you try on. Again with the 'someone is laughing at this, but it sure isn't me' moment; you think I want to make that happen any sooner? Um, thanks but no thanks lady. Also, I'd just like to point out that in particular, in these type of stores, it might be nice to stock clothes that span seasons. I understand the shift to the new season is necessary, but when your demographic is motivated as much if not more by growing girth as it is by the swing to fall/spring/whatever it might be very very considerate to stock more than five pairs of shorts when the forecast is still for temperatures in the high 80's. I'm just sayin', little lady who is so cheerful she might be Rachel Ray's cousin with a tapeworm, you might have sold me more than one pair of shorts if you had had more than one pair of shorts for me to try on, despite my aversion to your criminally high prices.
Coming soon: I enter a store called Buy Buy Baby and do not projectile vomit, although it did require some discipline.
Friday, August 27, 2010
"She's pregnant, she hasn't lost her mind!"
"She's pregnant, she hasn't lost her mind" my husband quipped when given the choice between the calm, quiet side of the pool complex or the slightly out-of-control kiddie area. "I'm not going over there until I have to" I added. AH, it's begun.
For years I searched for a quick deflector to the question "Do you have any kids?". I finally settled on the simple, concise "I'm allergic" response. Not too off-putting, a little funny, it worked like a charm. I never have been a fan of anonymous children, especially the screaming, hyper active variety. Put them in groups and I'd slowly back away, much like the average response to a wasp's nest. If they give you an immediate headache, you must be allergic, right? Like cats, my reaction to kids varied; some produced no allergic response and were actually pretty fun to hang around with, but this was not the usual effect- and never with those under the age of 1. And although I never tried it, I had the sense that most people would have been quite unhappy with me trying to coax their little one to try a quick tug on the catnip to quiet them down.......
Well, when you decide to create one of these little beings yourself, things go down the tubes fast. As in, it's straight to day care in a mini-van fast. Just because someone has one cat does not mean they want to become a crazy cat lady....... and just because I've decided to have a child doesn't mean that I'm going to start wanting interaction with all of them.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I had an appointment for an ultrasound. Because of where we're living, this turned into a group field trip of two families to the same office, sheparded by one of the liasons for the hospital. Turns out, this other family decided they all needed to come on the field trip; mom, dad, and three kids. When we arrived at the cramped downtown location, the mom began to pull all her assorted kid accessories (including the two kids, twins) out of the vehicle, much to the wide-eyed amazement of the liason. He stopped her before she could get her SUV sized stroller out of the car, pointing out that it would not fit in the elevator to the doctor's office. I was stuck in a quasi-daydream to keep myself from being nervous about the upcoming US, and was only sort of paying attention to this.
Quickly sucked back into reality, I noticed her walking towards us with a look of purpose in her eye and a kid in a carseat extended in front of her. "Excuse me, would you please carry my baby?", in the sort of way that your husband will ask you "do you want any ice cream?", already assuming the answer to be yes.
Apparently the mental responses of "What the F*** leads you to think I would want to hold your kid just because you didn't think about logistics before you decided to come to overcrowded downtown with your giant kid carriers and your humongous stroller?" and "Oh S*** she thinks that just because 1)I'm a woman and 2) I'm pregnant I love all these little monsters; I am so screwed for the next 20 years!" were quite clearly transmitted to the look on my face. She found another baby sherpa and this didn't bother me. At the time.
Then I started thinking about it a little bit and began to feel sort of bad for not agreeing to help her (not that I disagreed verbally, but my husband said the writing was on the wall, er face, in capital letters). Not that my feelings were any different, and not that I didn't feel that I deserved the right to have them, but I did a little projection. Certainly, there will be times in the future when I'll need help. I'll try to minimize this by hopefully being lucky (I'd like to say smart but come on..) enough to bring what I need with me, or tailor what I pack to the venue at hand. I just hope that when I do need help, I don't automatically assume that women, due simply to possesion of breasts and ovaries, are secretly pining for the chance to care for my little cherub....... and pay attention to the looks and body language of the people around me before choosing my victim. And I'm starting to think it might not be a bad idea to bring little airline bottles of liquid reward to thank these strangers for their efforts.
Still, I fear a bit for my sanity over the next little while. I mean, I love my dog, and I love some of the dogs that belong to my friends, or some of the other dogs at the dog park. But I don't love all dogs, not all at once, especially in big groups. The same goes for kids. I am certain that I will love the dickens out of this kid, but I am also equally certain that this will not be a feeling that will convey to the masses. There are lots of really unbearable children out there, and that's not going to change. The thing that will change is the speed at which I am able to back away.........
For years I searched for a quick deflector to the question "Do you have any kids?". I finally settled on the simple, concise "I'm allergic" response. Not too off-putting, a little funny, it worked like a charm. I never have been a fan of anonymous children, especially the screaming, hyper active variety. Put them in groups and I'd slowly back away, much like the average response to a wasp's nest. If they give you an immediate headache, you must be allergic, right? Like cats, my reaction to kids varied; some produced no allergic response and were actually pretty fun to hang around with, but this was not the usual effect- and never with those under the age of 1. And although I never tried it, I had the sense that most people would have been quite unhappy with me trying to coax their little one to try a quick tug on the catnip to quiet them down.......
Well, when you decide to create one of these little beings yourself, things go down the tubes fast. As in, it's straight to day care in a mini-van fast. Just because someone has one cat does not mean they want to become a crazy cat lady....... and just because I've decided to have a child doesn't mean that I'm going to start wanting interaction with all of them.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I had an appointment for an ultrasound. Because of where we're living, this turned into a group field trip of two families to the same office, sheparded by one of the liasons for the hospital. Turns out, this other family decided they all needed to come on the field trip; mom, dad, and three kids. When we arrived at the cramped downtown location, the mom began to pull all her assorted kid accessories (including the two kids, twins) out of the vehicle, much to the wide-eyed amazement of the liason. He stopped her before she could get her SUV sized stroller out of the car, pointing out that it would not fit in the elevator to the doctor's office. I was stuck in a quasi-daydream to keep myself from being nervous about the upcoming US, and was only sort of paying attention to this.
Quickly sucked back into reality, I noticed her walking towards us with a look of purpose in her eye and a kid in a carseat extended in front of her. "Excuse me, would you please carry my baby?", in the sort of way that your husband will ask you "do you want any ice cream?", already assuming the answer to be yes.
Apparently the mental responses of "What the F*** leads you to think I would want to hold your kid just because you didn't think about logistics before you decided to come to overcrowded downtown with your giant kid carriers and your humongous stroller?" and "Oh S*** she thinks that just because 1)I'm a woman and 2) I'm pregnant I love all these little monsters; I am so screwed for the next 20 years!" were quite clearly transmitted to the look on my face. She found another baby sherpa and this didn't bother me. At the time.
Then I started thinking about it a little bit and began to feel sort of bad for not agreeing to help her (not that I disagreed verbally, but my husband said the writing was on the wall, er face, in capital letters). Not that my feelings were any different, and not that I didn't feel that I deserved the right to have them, but I did a little projection. Certainly, there will be times in the future when I'll need help. I'll try to minimize this by hopefully being lucky (I'd like to say smart but come on..) enough to bring what I need with me, or tailor what I pack to the venue at hand. I just hope that when I do need help, I don't automatically assume that women, due simply to possesion of breasts and ovaries, are secretly pining for the chance to care for my little cherub....... and pay attention to the looks and body language of the people around me before choosing my victim. And I'm starting to think it might not be a bad idea to bring little airline bottles of liquid reward to thank these strangers for their efforts.
Still, I fear a bit for my sanity over the next little while. I mean, I love my dog, and I love some of the dogs that belong to my friends, or some of the other dogs at the dog park. But I don't love all dogs, not all at once, especially in big groups. The same goes for kids. I am certain that I will love the dickens out of this kid, but I am also equally certain that this will not be a feeling that will convey to the masses. There are lots of really unbearable children out there, and that's not going to change. The thing that will change is the speed at which I am able to back away.........
Monday, August 23, 2010
One Upside....
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Pregnancy: FDA approved
Congratulations! You've just been prescribed the pregnancy pill. Continue to take this pill for the next 9ish months and you will have grown a human. You can expect to experience a healthy glow, a recalibration of prior capabilities, and an overflow of attention from others. We hope you enjoy your experience.
SIDE EFFECTS:
Now, nobody likes to talk about these, ahem, unpleasantries. This is why they are usually in small print, underneath the big glossy photos of the beautiful, healthy, skinny (yes, even in the pregnancy magazines) people in all the advertising. Sad to say, some if not all of these are likely to afflict you. Intensity may vary.
Acne: Haven't had to worry about where to find the Neutrogina in the grocery store since you were 18? Ha! Start looking. That "glow" those devils talk about is actually your body kicking its skin oil production into early teenage mode. Fan-freaking-tastic. Your really smart friends, who have been pregnant before, will notice your (as ever) futile attempts to cover up your new issue and figure out what you've got going on. Everyone else will take one look at you and pass immediate judgment on your skills with personal hygene.
Memory/Cognition loss: Now, you may be used to being a quick thinker. And, I'm sure there was someting I was planning to say about that but 1) I forgot what it was and 2) sentence formulation and language skills overall have taken a dive. As in: your brain may have slowed down so significantly you could probably watch an episode of The View and be pleasantly entertained rather than willed to weep gently for the state of your country.
Smell: Were you one of those people who never noticed life's little olfactory stimuli? You will now begin to notice that, in fact, the world stinks. Oh yeah. Hmmm, that guy next to you on the train, or in line at the store? Previously you would not have known he didn't shower after his lunch break at the gym but now he will smell like a cab driver from an equatorial country. In August. And you'll begin to wish for a sterile lock on your trash can. Even if all you had for dinner last night was popcorn you will swear that the mold responsible for penecillin's evil twin has sprouted in less than 8 hours. On trash day, the world is your oyster. Your fetid, decaying in the 90 degree sun oyster.
Attention: Congratulations! Any and all queries are now on the table. Previously well-brought up adults would certainly hesitate to ask you many of the things they now view as appropriate dinner conversation. You will be expected to indulge their insensitive curiosities with every detail. In addition, the comments on your physicality start NOW.
Many more side effects are likely and, as always, largely unavoidable. Enjoy!
SIDE EFFECTS:
Now, nobody likes to talk about these, ahem, unpleasantries. This is why they are usually in small print, underneath the big glossy photos of the beautiful, healthy, skinny (yes, even in the pregnancy magazines) people in all the advertising. Sad to say, some if not all of these are likely to afflict you. Intensity may vary.
Acne: Haven't had to worry about where to find the Neutrogina in the grocery store since you were 18? Ha! Start looking. That "glow" those devils talk about is actually your body kicking its skin oil production into early teenage mode. Fan-freaking-tastic. Your really smart friends, who have been pregnant before, will notice your (as ever) futile attempts to cover up your new issue and figure out what you've got going on. Everyone else will take one look at you and pass immediate judgment on your skills with personal hygene.
Memory/Cognition loss: Now, you may be used to being a quick thinker. And, I'm sure there was someting I was planning to say about that but 1) I forgot what it was and 2) sentence formulation and language skills overall have taken a dive. As in: your brain may have slowed down so significantly you could probably watch an episode of The View and be pleasantly entertained rather than willed to weep gently for the state of your country.
Smell: Were you one of those people who never noticed life's little olfactory stimuli? You will now begin to notice that, in fact, the world stinks. Oh yeah. Hmmm, that guy next to you on the train, or in line at the store? Previously you would not have known he didn't shower after his lunch break at the gym but now he will smell like a cab driver from an equatorial country. In August. And you'll begin to wish for a sterile lock on your trash can. Even if all you had for dinner last night was popcorn you will swear that the mold responsible for penecillin's evil twin has sprouted in less than 8 hours. On trash day, the world is your oyster. Your fetid, decaying in the 90 degree sun oyster.
Attention: Congratulations! Any and all queries are now on the table. Previously well-brought up adults would certainly hesitate to ask you many of the things they now view as appropriate dinner conversation. You will be expected to indulge their insensitive curiosities with every detail. In addition, the comments on your physicality start NOW.
Many more side effects are likely and, as always, largely unavoidable. Enjoy!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
ooh, ooh! Mom, I want THAT name!
Yes, well. So I changed the name...... I'm pregnant. Leave me alone.
Wheel of Destiny, thou art mine enemy
So, one of the first things I noticed during this strange journey: the "Wheel of Gestation" or whatever, that defines your reality for the next 9ish months, is ridiculously arbitrary. As in I tell the nurse, or the PA, or the Doctor the same information (date of the start of your last period) and they come up with a different magic number. This number is your due date and so determines how far along in your gestation you happen to be.
I kept giving the same day. First to the nurse, then to the midwife, then to one of the OB docs. Every single one of them gave me a different calculation based on this same day, using the same blasted wheel. I'm a person who likes to do research and plan, so this number constantly changing was moving many things around, and I am not too proud to admit that one of them was my sanity. I'd even planned travel around one set of dates so that I could schedule appropriate appointments.... only to be thwarted. I began to view the wheel as my personal scourge.
Now you may think that having this number vary by a few days would be no big thing. However, if you have crushing fatigue and nausea and are viewing each passing day of your pregnancy as one day closer to the goal post, every time someone moves the goal, and sets you back, it is simply maddening. And it's not like I'm working with a full deck of emotional stability here. When you only have so much control, the loss of just a little is not a good thing.
Imagine my relief today when I got a lovely, computer generated, day by day chart that was given to me by my new OB. This is my "official", as in go in your medical record, honest to goodness goal post. It has been quite a while since I'd fallen in love so quickly, but by simple math this woman stole my heart!
I kept giving the same day. First to the nurse, then to the midwife, then to one of the OB docs. Every single one of them gave me a different calculation based on this same day, using the same blasted wheel. I'm a person who likes to do research and plan, so this number constantly changing was moving many things around, and I am not too proud to admit that one of them was my sanity. I'd even planned travel around one set of dates so that I could schedule appropriate appointments.... only to be thwarted. I began to view the wheel as my personal scourge.
Now you may think that having this number vary by a few days would be no big thing. However, if you have crushing fatigue and nausea and are viewing each passing day of your pregnancy as one day closer to the goal post, every time someone moves the goal, and sets you back, it is simply maddening. And it's not like I'm working with a full deck of emotional stability here. When you only have so much control, the loss of just a little is not a good thing.
Imagine my relief today when I got a lovely, computer generated, day by day chart that was given to me by my new OB. This is my "official", as in go in your medical record, honest to goodness goal post. It has been quite a while since I'd fallen in love so quickly, but by simple math this woman stole my heart!
Monday, August 16, 2010
"Recalculating"
Life's GPS
All my life I've not really enjoyed children. Well, I shouldn't put it that way. What I should say is that, for me, to spend time with the majority of children was less pleasant than say, a dental appointment (now, I've never had a cavity, but still). When I was a teenager, I actively created convenient excuses for why I was unavailable to baby sit. When I was in college, for a while my part time job was as a caretaker for my young cousin (I was the least enthusiastic of the many sitters my aunt and uncle employed), but college is different. Books are expensive!
I've had a long time to view the world with children from a bit of an outsider's view. After my wedding, and my friends' weddings, when they started having children, I noticed that the only industry in the US that seems to have a more profitable grasp around our proverbial throats than the wedding industry is the baby industry. I couldn't believe some of the things my girlfriends were thrilled to unwrap at their baby showers. For the life of me, could not understand why two towels that looked *exactly* the same were labeled, and priced, differently as either burping cloths or receiving blankets....... or how we survived as a species before there were baby wipe warmers. For. the. car.
And, now I find myself here. Phew. Well, we'll just have to see how this goes.
All my life I've not really enjoyed children. Well, I shouldn't put it that way. What I should say is that, for me, to spend time with the majority of children was less pleasant than say, a dental appointment (now, I've never had a cavity, but still). When I was a teenager, I actively created convenient excuses for why I was unavailable to baby sit. When I was in college, for a while my part time job was as a caretaker for my young cousin (I was the least enthusiastic of the many sitters my aunt and uncle employed), but college is different. Books are expensive!
I've had a long time to view the world with children from a bit of an outsider's view. After my wedding, and my friends' weddings, when they started having children, I noticed that the only industry in the US that seems to have a more profitable grasp around our proverbial throats than the wedding industry is the baby industry. I couldn't believe some of the things my girlfriends were thrilled to unwrap at their baby showers. For the life of me, could not understand why two towels that looked *exactly* the same were labeled, and priced, differently as either burping cloths or receiving blankets....... or how we survived as a species before there were baby wipe warmers. For. the. car.
And, now I find myself here. Phew. Well, we'll just have to see how this goes.
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