Disabled? I don't think so.

And now a word on something that I seem to be in the minority on:  My utter opposition to treating pregnant people like they have a disability.  A special disability, that you can plan for, achieve, and that is ultimately rather fleeting.

I'm talking about the special parking...... and I realize that lots of you will disagree with me on this but, seriously?  Did you not make a choice to be pregnant?  Why yes, yes you did.

This stuff has bothered me for years; the pregnant lady parking, the 'with small children' parking, etc.  If I have a dog, it is my responsibility to take care of him without relying on special treatment from society.  If you have a kid, that doesn't mean that you should expect to command plush parking spaces.  Sorry but I've always thought, and still do, that your kid is your responsibility, and part of that responsibility is to be conscious of possible negative impacts on others, not to expect special treatment.

As soon as I hit the third trimester, the room tech in the OB department was thrilled to tell me I now qualified for the (apparently much coveted) Third Trimester Parking Pass (or TTPP).  She started to whip out one of these passes but before she could fill in the blanks, I ruined her morning by informing her that I did not want one, thanks.  "What?" she asked, obviously thinking she hadn't heard me correctly.  "You're eligible for one now."  Great, I told her, but you can keep it.  "I'm pregnant, I'm not disabled."  She continued to try to talk me into taking the pass, and I continued to tell her no.

Here's the thing:  I made a choice.  A choice to get pregnant.  This choice was well thought out, and is, ultimately, quite temporary.  I do not think that I should be granted the special priviledge of being able to park at the front of the lot because of a deliberate action on my part, end of story.  I've said these things before.... before I ever thought I would be pregnant.  Some of my friends said things sort of like 'well, you'll change your mind if you ever are pregnant' and, funnily enough, I haven't.  Sure, I walk a little slower, but if we start giving out parking passes for preggers, is it only a matter of time before we start giving out 'fat passes' too? I mean, it's hard for the obese to walk the extra distance to the store, often because of choices they made.  My theory is that if you can walk yourself around the store, you can walk yourself up and down the parking lot too.  Gasp, it might even be good for you to move around a little more.

Now, every time I go to an OB appointment, I am asked if I've changed my mind.  Do I want the TTPP? They still can't believe it when I turn the thing down.

No, thanks, I'm fine.

As the clock strikes 12.....

OK So, as soon as that third trimester showed up I have really started to feel like Cinderella's carriage at the stroke of 12..... yep, I am turning into a pumpkin all right.

First to go? Ankles. of course, it didn't help that I had been flying but I looked down one morning and found me some cankles. And damn, are they ugly! Disconcerting, too, especially when you are used to some sort of shape to your lower leg (other than that of a Pringles container, that is). So what to do? Suck down plenty of water, which will make you realize that your bladder is shrinking daily, but at least it will give you some definition back.

Just in time to go shopping for some comfy shoes. I had to go shopping for supportive, comfortable shoes. I also wanted some with some style, so that took a while..... luckily I had my new best friend with me.

That would be Tums. Tums are my new best friend... since on the stroke of ten my less-good friend Reflux decided to come for an extended visit. Tums and Reflux spend so much time talking with each other they forget you are in the room, and in this case it is quite lovely to be ignored. It's been a couple weeks now, so I am sad to admit that I have some flavors that I like more than others.

The pregnancy pillow is another one of my good friends, since I have a whole new appreciation for what it means to have a comfortable night's sleep. This really big, really ugly thing is the only thing standing between me and insomnia most nights.

Not to mention my growing resemblance to a pumpkin.... and I really am not so pleased with the deal that fairy godmother talked me into. Now, if it had just come with some housecleaning mice......

What to Carol when you're expecting....

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

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!

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.

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.

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?