"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......... 

One Upside....

One Upside to being pregnant:  I never would have found this one stop shopping area.  For all your gun toting, cigar puffing, parental guidance needs.  Even though I'm guessing this is a pretty small demographic, it is quite considerate to maximize the efficiency of a clearly over-scheduled person.

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!

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!

"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.