I've a harrowing tale to tell and I've no idea how I feel about it. I am officially a mother now. I have a tiny little man who depends on me for just about everything and all he offers in return are the softest cheeks for kisses that have ever been felt and the sweetest snuggles. It seems fair enough now. We'll see how I feel about it in 16 years or so when his cheeks are no longer soft and I have to bail him out of jail for whatever he did that weekend.
Anyways, the birth did not turn out how I had planned. For a variety of reasons I was very serious about a natural birth. I took many classes about how to succeed with it. I planned, I practiced, I read the research on why I was making the absolutely best decision, I talked about it, and I felt good about it. I was not afraid of the pain or the procedure to come. My only fear was that things outside my control would go wrong and I would end up with a c-section. However, the research I did made me feel like that wouldn't happen. I refused induction methods, pain medicine, my water being broken and many other things that lead women to have c-sections. Mr. Neruda and I felt confident in our decisions and in their effectiveness.
Then I went into labor. It started slow. Really slow. My water cracked rather than broke and slowly trickled out for hours. I labored at home for 14 hours before we went to the hospital because my contractions never went faster than 5 mins apart. Finally, due to the imminent blizzard we went to the hospital with them about 5-4 mins apart. Respectable I thought.
Things picked up speed some after we arrived. I really zoomed toward a 6 or so and then things fizzled. The contractions hurt. They hurt a lot and were extremely exhausting. I kept trying different positions to see what would relieve some of the pain and stress. I found two positions that I liked the most, one of which was suppose to be great for getting the little toot to enter the birth canal.
I was mostly able to use my training to keep myself ahead of the pain and not panic during them. However, I got myself stuck at about an 8 and couldn't progress any further. That lasted for six hours. Even though I wasn't dilating more my contractions were becoming fierce. They were about 2 1/2 to 3 mins long with only 30 second breaks in between. I was okay with this because I knew the next time I was checked they would say 9 or 10 and we would begin the ending of this whole ordeal. I still felt empowered and able at that point, but I was wearing down fast.
My breaking point came when she checked me again and said that I was still not quite an 8 and that nothing had changed for 6 hours. He wasn't in the birth canal and the doctor felt that he was too big to ever enter the canal much less come out. She felt I was not going to progress any further. She said I could try for a while longer, but there was meconium in the water and she was positive I wasn't going to get any closer to delivery.
That news was crumbling. Maybe I should have tried longer and I could have gotten there eventually. However, that news was devastating and the pain was intolerable. It was tolerable when I was going somewhere but became completely intolerable when I knew it was for nothing. The nurses and doctor left the room so Mr. Neruda and I could talk it out. I was willing to continue if he felt it worth a try and I definitely needed encouragement and someone feeling like it was worth it for me to continue. However, he immediately thought it was time to call it quits and get us both out of it safely. I added up the 30 hours I had been in labor and decided that maybe we should call it quits.
I was then rushed into a c-section, which was one of the scariest things of my life. Everything happened so fast after that. Many were very rough me while I was still having contractions. I don't blame them, they were all in a hurry, it just hurt so bad and made things seem worse. The spinal block that I received was painful at first and terrifying, having a giant needle stuck into my spine. The worst part was that it kept creeping up my body numbing my arms and made me begin to pass out a bit. Apparently gravity can pull it down into my head if I am at a bad angle. The upside to doing the c-section the way I did was that the drug seemed to not effect Huxley at all. Since it had only been in my body for about 5 mins before they started cutting into me I don't think it had time to get into the womb. He came out incredibly alert which is exactly what we wanted.
I honestly don't know how to feel about the whole experience. A part of me feels like a failure. I really had the whole thing planned out and I had the power of my beliefs backing me. I do feel like it went wrong. My body was inferior to what it should have been and that is saddening. It also makes me feel powerless. I can train and train for a marathon or just keep pushing myself no matter what when doing other physical activities, but there was nothing I could do about this situation. I had limits and they caused me to fail.
I have heard of women having PTSD after getting a c-section, especially if they really wanted a natural birth. There is a way I can understand that feeling, however, I choose to focus on the fact that he came out perfectly healthy, that I didn't die or have any lasting damage, and that I was in labor for about 30 hours before giving up. I didn't feel a contraction and crumble, I put in the good fight. I was beaten but I tried hard. There are moments when I get very sad and defeated feeling, but I think they have more to do with my crazy hormones and things right now rather than with deeper seeded feelings.
I don't know for certain how I feel, but I thought I would just share how Hux came to be.
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Oxytocin, you minx
So oxytocin turns out to not be quite the one dimensional hormone of love and affection we all thought it was. Even though it makes us discriminate and be a bit racist the good news is that it should make me be a good mother whether I want to be or not. Since he is mine and a major part of my inner group, this little hormone should make me a mommy tigress for him. This is a relief because I worry about getting to that point on my own. Yeah for hormones and instincts.
See the article here.
See the article here.
These are a few of my favorite things
In an attempt to turn my pregnant negativity around, especially since we are weirdly close to D-Day (I am off my contraction meds and am dialated to 2 cm), I have decided to make a list of things I have actually enjoyed about my pregnancy.
1. I enjoy how Mariella, my marvelous kitty, continues to insist to her right of sleeping upon my belly. The first time she did this after he began to kick and move and started kicking her and she became quite startled and jumped off. That only happened once. She continues her vigils on my belly and he continues to kick and punch her. She will occasionally resettle herself or wake up from her naps, but she will not be budged. They are both pretty cute.
2. The second time Mr. Neruda and I had to journey to the hospital in the middle of the night for my contraction fun, we had an added surprise. They hooked me up to the fetal monitor that straps across my belly. Fetus Cheek hates the monitor and ultrasounds with a passion. He always runs from them and tries to hide, something that isn’t abnormal for fetuses from what I have heard. However, on that particular night, after I had been hooked up to the stupid monitor for about 3 hours with no real readings on him because he wouldn’t be still, I begged the nurse to release us since he seemed healthy enough to run from it and it was about 3 in the morning. She refused stating that they needed a straight 20 minutes of his reading before we could leave. After she left the room Fetus Cheek proceeded to find the monitor on my belly and start kicking the crap out of it. The speaker was turned all the way up and sounded like someone pounding on a microphone. He was actually moving the monitor on my stomach and he kept it up for a good minute or two, pointedly aiming for that spot. The nurse came racing in to turn down the volume. We were shortly released after that. I think she was as sick of us as we were of her.
3. I enjoy when Mr. Neruda sits in front of me with both hands on my belly. He always begins talking to him with “Hey Buddy” and proceeds to talk to him about all sorts of stuff. 9 out of 10 times this will render a response from Fetus Cheek with many kicks and punches and things. It is pretty cute to feel one boy respond to the other and watch the reaction of the other as he feels the response. I like how they already know one another pretty well. Mr. Neruda is the only one who can get a response from him.
4. I enjoy that the music he responds most to is Patty Griffin and Classical. He already has good taste. He also really liked a flutist that played at our church. So far he hates the drums. A lot.
5. I really enjoy how he likes butt and back massages. He will push his butt and back up against my belly really hard and hold it there while I rub and massage him. Sometimes I can get him to surface and move by pushing and rubbing against the spot where his booty usually lies. I hope that means he will be snuggly when he comes out.
6. I liked how a month or so ago I was driving home from work and felt a very firm fist jab into my belly. He held it there so I rubbed it and pushed on it. He slightly moved it and I followed. We “played” like that for a minute or so like two magnets turned opposite of one another. It was pretty fun.
7. I loved the first time Mr. Neruda felt him move. He was able to feel him move at around 18 weeks, which is pretty early. I could feel him at around 16 weeks or so and felt bad because Mr. Neruda wanted to feel him SO badly and I was worried it would be a long time before he could. However, during a movie he was able to and the look on his face was priceless. He floated on cloud nine for about a week after that.
8. I loved taking him on his first race. My dad and I signed up to run the Koman Run in downtown OKC. I was about 6 months pregnant ad my running clothes wouldn’t cover my belly all the way. We went in and ran the best we could with all the congestion that comes with a Koman Run (they aren’t really filled with runners and we got there a bit late so were nowhere near the front). I’m glad I got to get him into the sporty circuit at such a young age! We had a blast, but the beating that Fetus Cheek gave my bladder led me to make that my final run of the pregnancy and stick to the elliptical from then on. A good work out without all the bumpiness.
9. I love snuggling with Mr. Neruda in bed at night or in the morning and pressing my big ole’ belly against his belly or back. Almost every time Fetus Cheek will get to moving and Mr. Neruda can feel him through his back or belly. They are fun, intimate moments.
These are only a few things I can think of right now. I am sure there are plenty more, but I will leave the list here.
1. I enjoy how Mariella, my marvelous kitty, continues to insist to her right of sleeping upon my belly. The first time she did this after he began to kick and move and started kicking her and she became quite startled and jumped off. That only happened once. She continues her vigils on my belly and he continues to kick and punch her. She will occasionally resettle herself or wake up from her naps, but she will not be budged. They are both pretty cute.
2. The second time Mr. Neruda and I had to journey to the hospital in the middle of the night for my contraction fun, we had an added surprise. They hooked me up to the fetal monitor that straps across my belly. Fetus Cheek hates the monitor and ultrasounds with a passion. He always runs from them and tries to hide, something that isn’t abnormal for fetuses from what I have heard. However, on that particular night, after I had been hooked up to the stupid monitor for about 3 hours with no real readings on him because he wouldn’t be still, I begged the nurse to release us since he seemed healthy enough to run from it and it was about 3 in the morning. She refused stating that they needed a straight 20 minutes of his reading before we could leave. After she left the room Fetus Cheek proceeded to find the monitor on my belly and start kicking the crap out of it. The speaker was turned all the way up and sounded like someone pounding on a microphone. He was actually moving the monitor on my stomach and he kept it up for a good minute or two, pointedly aiming for that spot. The nurse came racing in to turn down the volume. We were shortly released after that. I think she was as sick of us as we were of her.
3. I enjoy when Mr. Neruda sits in front of me with both hands on my belly. He always begins talking to him with “Hey Buddy” and proceeds to talk to him about all sorts of stuff. 9 out of 10 times this will render a response from Fetus Cheek with many kicks and punches and things. It is pretty cute to feel one boy respond to the other and watch the reaction of the other as he feels the response. I like how they already know one another pretty well. Mr. Neruda is the only one who can get a response from him.
4. I enjoy that the music he responds most to is Patty Griffin and Classical. He already has good taste. He also really liked a flutist that played at our church. So far he hates the drums. A lot.
5. I really enjoy how he likes butt and back massages. He will push his butt and back up against my belly really hard and hold it there while I rub and massage him. Sometimes I can get him to surface and move by pushing and rubbing against the spot where his booty usually lies. I hope that means he will be snuggly when he comes out.
6. I liked how a month or so ago I was driving home from work and felt a very firm fist jab into my belly. He held it there so I rubbed it and pushed on it. He slightly moved it and I followed. We “played” like that for a minute or so like two magnets turned opposite of one another. It was pretty fun.
7. I loved the first time Mr. Neruda felt him move. He was able to feel him move at around 18 weeks, which is pretty early. I could feel him at around 16 weeks or so and felt bad because Mr. Neruda wanted to feel him SO badly and I was worried it would be a long time before he could. However, during a movie he was able to and the look on his face was priceless. He floated on cloud nine for about a week after that.
8. I loved taking him on his first race. My dad and I signed up to run the Koman Run in downtown OKC. I was about 6 months pregnant ad my running clothes wouldn’t cover my belly all the way. We went in and ran the best we could with all the congestion that comes with a Koman Run (they aren’t really filled with runners and we got there a bit late so were nowhere near the front). I’m glad I got to get him into the sporty circuit at such a young age! We had a blast, but the beating that Fetus Cheek gave my bladder led me to make that my final run of the pregnancy and stick to the elliptical from then on. A good work out without all the bumpiness.
9. I love snuggling with Mr. Neruda in bed at night or in the morning and pressing my big ole’ belly against his belly or back. Almost every time Fetus Cheek will get to moving and Mr. Neruda can feel him through his back or belly. They are fun, intimate moments.
These are only a few things I can think of right now. I am sure there are plenty more, but I will leave the list here.
Complaint
I'm sure this makes me a horrible person, but I can't help it. I hate being pregnant. I truly have a difficult time coming up with anything I like about it. I would really love for it to just stop, but I guess that won't happen for another two months or so. Pregnancy, for me, is a giant list of things I am not allowed to do, my body being attacked by a parasite, my body functioning in painful, unnatural ways, and constant unwanted attention from strangers and acquaintances alike. I can't stand it.
I feel like an old woman. I have gone from never having heartburn in my life to getting it from shredded wheat cereal. I use to be so limber, to a scary degree, and now I can't point my toes without getting a charlie horse. I can't twist my head quickly without getting a charlie in my neck! They happen all over my body now. I have never dealt with back pain before and can now barely walk sometimes because it is so bad. The list goes on. I won't bore you with the details. However, the best part is that I am continually having contractions, which are painful in themselves, but I have been put on a medicine that's side effects are awful. That really turned it all around for me. The worst is that I can't exercise anymore because of the contractions. I was doing 3 miles a day or so on the elliptical until about 3 weeks ago. That burst of serotonin, huge energy release, and feeling of well being was a major joy in my schedule. But now I am left being sluggish and depressed while my muscles atrophy.
I actually am not someone who voices my complaints often. Ask Mr. Neruda if you don't believe me, but I hate to complain about physical aliments. However, my happiness level has really taken a dive since the world around me can now easily tell that I am pregnant.
I cannot stand having everyone around me know that I am pregnant. I can't stand their prying questions, their forced opinions, their invasive ways, their touching me, etc. I especially love when much of this happens while I am at work so that I can't do or respond to anything the way I would like to.
I am a private person and dislike discussing personal issues with most people. I do not want to tell a complete stranger if I will be quitting my job to stay home or breastfeed. I don't want to talk about my natural birth plan and how they think I'm stupid for wanting to do it. I don't care about their labor experience or how they now hate their child as a teenager so I better "enjoy parenthood now." I also don't see the excuse of my lack of sleep at night being good because it prepares me for when the baby comes. That isn't something I need training for, I just need to begin the process rested not already exhausted.
However, the thing I hate most is how my pregnancy is all people can talk to me about whether I know them or not. That people feel like they can touch me in the most sensitive part of my body right now, whether I know them or not (fyi- I can't stand having my stomach touched whether I know you or not. ALWAYS ask and actually wait for a response). I especially can't stand when people send their children to hug my "baby" in my stomach or kiss it or touch it. Please leave me alone. And that people are now constantly over concerned about my well being to the stupidest degree. If I trip right now (and I mean a little stutter step trip where I barely stumble at all) suddenly everyone is yelling at me to be careful, are you okay, you are pregnant and need to watch your step better, etc. LEAVE ME ALONE! I do not want the issue of whether I can walk across a parking lot to be discussed in front of me without me every being asked. I don't want the door of my car gotten for me or my chair pulled out for me in a ridiculous, overly dramatic way. I don't care if my stumbled step was really that scary to you, keep it to yourself and get a life. I am not a child or an invalid. I am simply a lady living with a huge parasite. I was in the Peace Corp, I have had a few parasites before and no one seemed to cared then when I really could have used concerned people's help and a nice bathroom scout.
I know I can't hide my pregnancy anymore, but that doesn't mean that is all there is about me or that I am know in the public domain. Leave me and all pregnant women alone people. You are making one of the harder times in my life unbearable. I hate going out now with friends or strangers because of this. By the end of a night out, I am usually in such a bad mood that it is embarrassing and makes me feel worse.
I really just wanted to get this rant all out of me to hopefully make me feel better. From now on, for the next month or so, I am going to try to write about something I am thankful for instead of complaints. I am hoping it will change the bitterness that is setting over me because it is becoming debilitating and I hate that. I don't like feeling depressed and angry all the time. It makes me focus on the painful, horrible parts of this process more than is healthy. I hope to change all that during this most tiring and stressful time of the year.
I feel like an old woman. I have gone from never having heartburn in my life to getting it from shredded wheat cereal. I use to be so limber, to a scary degree, and now I can't point my toes without getting a charlie horse. I can't twist my head quickly without getting a charlie in my neck! They happen all over my body now. I have never dealt with back pain before and can now barely walk sometimes because it is so bad. The list goes on. I won't bore you with the details. However, the best part is that I am continually having contractions, which are painful in themselves, but I have been put on a medicine that's side effects are awful. That really turned it all around for me. The worst is that I can't exercise anymore because of the contractions. I was doing 3 miles a day or so on the elliptical until about 3 weeks ago. That burst of serotonin, huge energy release, and feeling of well being was a major joy in my schedule. But now I am left being sluggish and depressed while my muscles atrophy.
I actually am not someone who voices my complaints often. Ask Mr. Neruda if you don't believe me, but I hate to complain about physical aliments. However, my happiness level has really taken a dive since the world around me can now easily tell that I am pregnant.
I cannot stand having everyone around me know that I am pregnant. I can't stand their prying questions, their forced opinions, their invasive ways, their touching me, etc. I especially love when much of this happens while I am at work so that I can't do or respond to anything the way I would like to.
I am a private person and dislike discussing personal issues with most people. I do not want to tell a complete stranger if I will be quitting my job to stay home or breastfeed. I don't want to talk about my natural birth plan and how they think I'm stupid for wanting to do it. I don't care about their labor experience or how they now hate their child as a teenager so I better "enjoy parenthood now." I also don't see the excuse of my lack of sleep at night being good because it prepares me for when the baby comes. That isn't something I need training for, I just need to begin the process rested not already exhausted.
However, the thing I hate most is how my pregnancy is all people can talk to me about whether I know them or not. That people feel like they can touch me in the most sensitive part of my body right now, whether I know them or not (fyi- I can't stand having my stomach touched whether I know you or not. ALWAYS ask and actually wait for a response). I especially can't stand when people send their children to hug my "baby" in my stomach or kiss it or touch it. Please leave me alone. And that people are now constantly over concerned about my well being to the stupidest degree. If I trip right now (and I mean a little stutter step trip where I barely stumble at all) suddenly everyone is yelling at me to be careful, are you okay, you are pregnant and need to watch your step better, etc. LEAVE ME ALONE! I do not want the issue of whether I can walk across a parking lot to be discussed in front of me without me every being asked. I don't want the door of my car gotten for me or my chair pulled out for me in a ridiculous, overly dramatic way. I don't care if my stumbled step was really that scary to you, keep it to yourself and get a life. I am not a child or an invalid. I am simply a lady living with a huge parasite. I was in the Peace Corp, I have had a few parasites before and no one seemed to cared then when I really could have used concerned people's help and a nice bathroom scout.
I know I can't hide my pregnancy anymore, but that doesn't mean that is all there is about me or that I am know in the public domain. Leave me and all pregnant women alone people. You are making one of the harder times in my life unbearable. I hate going out now with friends or strangers because of this. By the end of a night out, I am usually in such a bad mood that it is embarrassing and makes me feel worse.
I really just wanted to get this rant all out of me to hopefully make me feel better. From now on, for the next month or so, I am going to try to write about something I am thankful for instead of complaints. I am hoping it will change the bitterness that is setting over me because it is becoming debilitating and I hate that. I don't like feeling depressed and angry all the time. It makes me focus on the painful, horrible parts of this process more than is healthy. I hope to change all that during this most tiring and stressful time of the year.
Sabbatical over
Thanks to technical difficulties (my laptop was an old, pathetic piece of crap) I haven't been blogging much. But now, on my new indigo blue laptop of the future, I hope to blog more in the coming days!
So, it turns out that I am, in fact, pregnant and pretending that I am not while living life normally just isn't going to work any longer. I officially have to start acting like a pregnant lady. Not only have I reached the dreaded third trimester stage, but I have gained a few complications.
The third trimester has mainly brought a ridiculous amount of bathroom visits. This isn't all together horrible. The worst part is the places I find myself peeing. Due to a variety of bathroom issues I have gone in my share of horrible places. However, you just assume that when you have diarrhea in a third world country you are going to find relief in some pretty awful places. However, when you need to pee in Penn Square Mall, you just don't expect to find yourself in a smelly, dirty mess. This is just the beginning of my pee-fest aught 10. I can't even begin to imagine the kinds of places I will have to pee in the months to come. And frankly, I just can't squat and maneuver the way I could before gaining a giant growth in my front bits.
Now on to the complications. It turns out that I am a contracting fool. I have been up to 3 mins apart, each lasting a minute. That's right, it's basically labor. This is a bad thing since I am only 29 weeks pregnant. I really need to last 9 more weeks to have a healthy little boy. We have had to go to the hospital twice now for contracting. Always late at night. The best part of our visits was the fact that Malcolm hates the heart monitor. At first he runs from it and gets angry. Then, since he figured out he couldn't get away from it he decided to start attacking it. He was kicking and punching the crap out of it which was amusing, but also painful. There is a microphone attached to the monitor and it sounded like someone was just beating the crap out of a microphone, which was turned up very loud. The nurse had to come in and turn it down for us. She also needed to get a full 25 min. reading of his heartbeat, which never happened, and around 2:30 she took pity on us and let us leave.
Now I am on the worst medication in the world to get them to stop, which isn't really working. The side effects are awful. I constantly feel like I am having a horrible panic attack along with headaches and an array of other awesomeness. If I have to stay on this for 2 1/2 months I may lose it. Also, it isn't really working so I am afraid of what the next step is. If it is bed rest, I may lose my mind. Ugh.
Well, that's my pregnancy tale. I am in fact pregnant. It basically sucks. I must now live a different life that is less fun.
So, it turns out that I am, in fact, pregnant and pretending that I am not while living life normally just isn't going to work any longer. I officially have to start acting like a pregnant lady. Not only have I reached the dreaded third trimester stage, but I have gained a few complications.
The third trimester has mainly brought a ridiculous amount of bathroom visits. This isn't all together horrible. The worst part is the places I find myself peeing. Due to a variety of bathroom issues I have gone in my share of horrible places. However, you just assume that when you have diarrhea in a third world country you are going to find relief in some pretty awful places. However, when you need to pee in Penn Square Mall, you just don't expect to find yourself in a smelly, dirty mess. This is just the beginning of my pee-fest aught 10. I can't even begin to imagine the kinds of places I will have to pee in the months to come. And frankly, I just can't squat and maneuver the way I could before gaining a giant growth in my front bits.
Now on to the complications. It turns out that I am a contracting fool. I have been up to 3 mins apart, each lasting a minute. That's right, it's basically labor. This is a bad thing since I am only 29 weeks pregnant. I really need to last 9 more weeks to have a healthy little boy. We have had to go to the hospital twice now for contracting. Always late at night. The best part of our visits was the fact that Malcolm hates the heart monitor. At first he runs from it and gets angry. Then, since he figured out he couldn't get away from it he decided to start attacking it. He was kicking and punching the crap out of it which was amusing, but also painful. There is a microphone attached to the monitor and it sounded like someone was just beating the crap out of a microphone, which was turned up very loud. The nurse had to come in and turn it down for us. She also needed to get a full 25 min. reading of his heartbeat, which never happened, and around 2:30 she took pity on us and let us leave.
Now I am on the worst medication in the world to get them to stop, which isn't really working. The side effects are awful. I constantly feel like I am having a horrible panic attack along with headaches and an array of other awesomeness. If I have to stay on this for 2 1/2 months I may lose it. Also, it isn't really working so I am afraid of what the next step is. If it is bed rest, I may lose my mind. Ugh.
Well, that's my pregnancy tale. I am in fact pregnant. It basically sucks. I must now live a different life that is less fun.
Fetus Cheek's first race
A couple weeks ago my dad and I ran in the Koman Run in OKC. It was mostly fun except for the fact that running kills my bladder these days and that the Koman Run has a lot of participants who aren't there to run. There was a lot of frustrating congestion throughout, but we were able to get through and have fun.
I felt it was important to run this race because I want to get Malcolm into the running circuit as quickly as possible. I think it's healthy for him and fun. He did really well in his first race. He was calm and determined. The only trouble was how he continually beat up my bladder which made the last mile and a half difficult. But I am sure he knows that mommy loves a challenge and he just wanted to make the unchallenging run a little more challenging. What a little go getter.
Honestly though, the only way I can get through this pregnancy is to do as many normal things as I can.
I felt it was important to run this race because I want to get Malcolm into the running circuit as quickly as possible. I think it's healthy for him and fun. He did really well in his first race. He was calm and determined. The only trouble was how he continually beat up my bladder which made the last mile and a half difficult. But I am sure he knows that mommy loves a challenge and he just wanted to make the unchallenging run a little more challenging. What a little go getter.
Honestly though, the only way I can get through this pregnancy is to do as many normal things as I can.
Blood pressure through the roof
A few days ago I went to the pharmacy to pick up my prenatal vitamins. They weren’t quite ready yet, so I found a seat in the waiting room. The only other waiting customer was a restless older man. He paced and fidgeted and finally went over to the blood pressure machine to check his rates.
As he set down he had to move a magazine out of the way. It took a bit for the whole process to play out and I patiently flipped through an issue of Cosmo.
When he finished he got up, picked the magazine up, shook it at me and said, “Well of course my blood pressure is raised, look at that picture!”
On the front of the magazine was a beautiful woman wearing only a men’s dress shirt that was completely unbuttoned and gaping open, showing all the breasts but the nipples.
I will admit that my reaction was slow and groggy as I stared at this 80 year-old-man waiving a nudie magazine at me. When I finally closed my mouth and swallowed my laughter I replied, “That does seem like it would skew the results.”
As he set down he had to move a magazine out of the way. It took a bit for the whole process to play out and I patiently flipped through an issue of Cosmo.
When he finished he got up, picked the magazine up, shook it at me and said, “Well of course my blood pressure is raised, look at that picture!”
On the front of the magazine was a beautiful woman wearing only a men’s dress shirt that was completely unbuttoned and gaping open, showing all the breasts but the nipples.
I will admit that my reaction was slow and groggy as I stared at this 80 year-old-man waiving a nudie magazine at me. When I finally closed my mouth and swallowed my laughter I replied, “That does seem like it would skew the results.”
SUCK!!!!!!!
Well suck! I went through caffeine withdraws like a good little pregnant woman when I found out that I was pregnant. I stopped drinking EVERYTHING, including my sinfully magical, and critical to my well being, Diet Coke. It sucked. It hurt. It was a real morale killer. But I soldiered through it and became a caffeine-free person.
Then I began craving ice cold, liquid refreshment like mad. It was all I could think about. I dreamed about it. I yearned for it with every fiber of my being. And then I found a loop hole. 7-11 Icee Drinks!
They taste like Coke. They are freezing. They are delicious. They are satisfying in a way I have never known. I have been in heaven for a few weeks now.
Then something occurred to me: How are these delicious treats made? Do they use real Coke products by any chance? Am I slowly (and satisfyingly) killing my baby?
I decided to research this conundrum like any self-respecting librarian should. Turns out those delicious frozen treats are just like drinking a large pop. They have caffeine running through every ice crystal.
So I am now off of them. I am now experiencing that wonderful headache that only caffeine deprivation can create. Because the normal pregnancy headaches just weren’t enough of a challenge.
Curses!
Then I began craving ice cold, liquid refreshment like mad. It was all I could think about. I dreamed about it. I yearned for it with every fiber of my being. And then I found a loop hole. 7-11 Icee Drinks!
They taste like Coke. They are freezing. They are delicious. They are satisfying in a way I have never known. I have been in heaven for a few weeks now.
Then something occurred to me: How are these delicious treats made? Do they use real Coke products by any chance? Am I slowly (and satisfyingly) killing my baby?
I decided to research this conundrum like any self-respecting librarian should. Turns out those delicious frozen treats are just like drinking a large pop. They have caffeine running through every ice crystal.
So I am now off of them. I am now experiencing that wonderful headache that only caffeine deprivation can create. Because the normal pregnancy headaches just weren’t enough of a challenge.
Curses!
Ode to Soda Pop
My dear, sweet, fizzy liquid, oh how I miss thee! I long for your burn and rush of flavor into my mouth. Sometimes I have difficulty controling myself when I am near someone holding a beautiful, curvatious bottle of soda. The kind that is fogged from being so cold on such a hot day with beads of sweat slowly trickling down its side. When I see that silver label of DC or that maroon label of DP I must painfully hold back physical violence towards these innocent drinkers. They can’t know what pain they inflict upon me. They are simple people simply trying to quench their own cravings.
I know there are caffeine-free drinks in the world. I have tried a lot of them. Grape soda pleased me for a few days, caffeine-free DC is a sad shell of its normal self, and I am frankly disheartened at this point. I miss the burn most of all and caffeine-free soda just doesn’t offer the edge of searing pain that DC does.
I hear people say, “Yeah, but only six months more.” And I want to punch them in the face. One, six months is a LONG time. Two, there are about nine months after that of caffeine-free breast feeding. I wish I could suffer the pain of pregnancy and delivery and that Mr. Neruda could suffer all the sacrifices of pregnancy. Life would be better to such a degree that I would dance a jig on the Library counter nude!
I know there are caffeine-free drinks in the world. I have tried a lot of them. Grape soda pleased me for a few days, caffeine-free DC is a sad shell of its normal self, and I am frankly disheartened at this point. I miss the burn most of all and caffeine-free soda just doesn’t offer the edge of searing pain that DC does.
I hear people say, “Yeah, but only six months more.” And I want to punch them in the face. One, six months is a LONG time. Two, there are about nine months after that of caffeine-free breast feeding. I wish I could suffer the pain of pregnancy and delivery and that Mr. Neruda could suffer all the sacrifices of pregnancy. Life would be better to such a degree that I would dance a jig on the Library counter nude!
Tears
I am pretty sure that I had my first pregnant crying episode last night. It was weird because I am not a crier. I laugh when I get hurt (it's a weird reflex I guess) and I mostly end up angry when I'm sad so tears don't come much.
However, last night was different.
For the past while Mr. Neruda and I have been watching an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer every night before bed. It is so fun and wonderful, until it's not. We are currently in season 5 and the episode we watched last night *spoiler alert* was when Buffy's mom died.
I have seen all of these before, more than once, so this was not a surprise. Sure it is sudden in the show and obviously sad, but I knew exactly what was coming. And I was fine when Buffy found her and went through shock, pain and tears. I lost about one tear down my check. I was also fine when Buffy told her sister Dawn at school that it happened. Even when Dawn denied it, cried hysterically and collapsed on the floor only about one or two tears slipped out. I did need to blow my nose because snot was a bit looser (however, I am getting over a cold so it could have been for any reason).
I was not fine, however, when Anya reacted. She is an ex-demon who is thousands of years old and one of my favorite Whedon characters. She normally makes inappropriate comments and questions all the time and this time was no different. When she asked if they would cut open the body another character lost it and started yelling at her. Anya then began to cry and say how she didn't understand. Not death, not Joyce being gone, not anything and no one would tell her what was happening. Very poignant.
It was at that point that I began sobbing. Shoulders shaking, audible, tears streaming, sobs.
Mr. Neruda turned to me startled and asked if I was okay and tried to comfort me. I pushed him away and continued sobbing and watching. Luckily, another character did something funny soon after and it broke the spell I was under allowing me to laugh instead of cry. It was a relief.
I actually woke up this morning with sore, raw eyes feeling baffled. I don't think I like pregnancy hormones.
However, last night was different.
For the past while Mr. Neruda and I have been watching an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer every night before bed. It is so fun and wonderful, until it's not. We are currently in season 5 and the episode we watched last night *spoiler alert* was when Buffy's mom died.
I have seen all of these before, more than once, so this was not a surprise. Sure it is sudden in the show and obviously sad, but I knew exactly what was coming. And I was fine when Buffy found her and went through shock, pain and tears. I lost about one tear down my check. I was also fine when Buffy told her sister Dawn at school that it happened. Even when Dawn denied it, cried hysterically and collapsed on the floor only about one or two tears slipped out. I did need to blow my nose because snot was a bit looser (however, I am getting over a cold so it could have been for any reason).
I was not fine, however, when Anya reacted. She is an ex-demon who is thousands of years old and one of my favorite Whedon characters. She normally makes inappropriate comments and questions all the time and this time was no different. When she asked if they would cut open the body another character lost it and started yelling at her. Anya then began to cry and say how she didn't understand. Not death, not Joyce being gone, not anything and no one would tell her what was happening. Very poignant.
It was at that point that I began sobbing. Shoulders shaking, audible, tears streaming, sobs.
Mr. Neruda turned to me startled and asked if I was okay and tried to comfort me. I pushed him away and continued sobbing and watching. Luckily, another character did something funny soon after and it broke the spell I was under allowing me to laugh instead of cry. It was a relief.
I actually woke up this morning with sore, raw eyes feeling baffled. I don't think I like pregnancy hormones.
Buffy-verse
I love Buffy. All seven seasons and the eighth season that was done in graphic novel form. Actually, I just love all things Joss Whedon: Buffy, Firefly, Angel, Dollhouse (mostly). They are all so wonderful! The perfect blend of funny, horror, fantasy, sci-fi, intrigue, romance, intelligence, violence, and punning. I honestly can't believe I haven't written about this before.
Due to my great love (and slightly unnatural obsession) I would love to name my little baby Buffy if it is a girl. I mean, what a great name?!?!? It is a nod back to the 40s and 50s, it is short, sweet, unique with a bit of tough built right in. However, Mr. Neruda is completely against it. He won't even discuss it. I am staggered. First, how rude. Second, I'm doing all the hard work of growing this parasite so I should totally get double say in the name.
Also, for a boy I would love the name Fox after Fox Mulder in the X Files. Mr. Neruda has nixed that one as well. Stupid him. He doesn't know good characters and good names if they punched him in the face (which both would be happy to do!).
So, until I can win him over I will be calling the fetus Buffy or Fox once we know the sex. Hopefully they will grow on him by the time its born and he will crumble to my will. Otherwise, I will concede the name Joss.
Due to my great love (and slightly unnatural obsession) I would love to name my little baby Buffy if it is a girl. I mean, what a great name?!?!? It is a nod back to the 40s and 50s, it is short, sweet, unique with a bit of tough built right in. However, Mr. Neruda is completely against it. He won't even discuss it. I am staggered. First, how rude. Second, I'm doing all the hard work of growing this parasite so I should totally get double say in the name.
Also, for a boy I would love the name Fox after Fox Mulder in the X Files. Mr. Neruda has nixed that one as well. Stupid him. He doesn't know good characters and good names if they punched him in the face (which both would be happy to do!).
So, until I can win him over I will be calling the fetus Buffy or Fox once we know the sex. Hopefully they will grow on him by the time its born and he will crumble to my will. Otherwise, I will concede the name Joss.
Viva la revolucion!
So, I’m pregnant. And it pretty much sucks. I find my mind and body only caring about how to keep myself from being sick all day long. It makes for a boring me. I am annoyed with myself that all I can seem to do is complain and think about what I might possibly be able to eat next without getting sick.
I have tried many of the little pregnant tricks. Ginger is officially dead to me now. Saltines are a dry death for me as well. Pickles are beginning to climb the chart of death. It is frustrating that I will find something that makes me feel decent and it only last for about two days and then it is the most nauseous of them all.
Frankly, I hate being pregnant.
However, I am sick of being a whine-bag. I hate constantly complaining and that being about all I can say because that is about the only thing on my mind. So, I have decided to stop complaining . . . audibly anyways. When asked how I am doing I will again answer, “fine.” If asked a more specific question like, “are you still getting morning sickness?” I will respond, “Off and on,” and then smile. I am hoping that a positive attitude will change my sickness level and my enjoyment level.
I am making efforts to beat the exhaustion by forcing myself to read so long each day, watch something, do chores, etc everyday whether I feel like it or not. I hate just lying around being boring and having no interests but staring at the ceiling. NO MORE! Viva la revolucion!!!
I am more than a pregnant woman and I am going to start behaving in that way.
I have tried many of the little pregnant tricks. Ginger is officially dead to me now. Saltines are a dry death for me as well. Pickles are beginning to climb the chart of death. It is frustrating that I will find something that makes me feel decent and it only last for about two days and then it is the most nauseous of them all.
Frankly, I hate being pregnant.
However, I am sick of being a whine-bag. I hate constantly complaining and that being about all I can say because that is about the only thing on my mind. So, I have decided to stop complaining . . . audibly anyways. When asked how I am doing I will again answer, “fine.” If asked a more specific question like, “are you still getting morning sickness?” I will respond, “Off and on,” and then smile. I am hoping that a positive attitude will change my sickness level and my enjoyment level.
I am making efforts to beat the exhaustion by forcing myself to read so long each day, watch something, do chores, etc everyday whether I feel like it or not. I hate just lying around being boring and having no interests but staring at the ceiling. NO MORE! Viva la revolucion!!!
I am more than a pregnant woman and I am going to start behaving in that way.
1st doc visit . . . a let down
Mr. Neruda and I went to our first doctor's appointment a few days ago.
Mostly it was a let down. They just re-tested me (because those test are SO difficult to operate) and then came in and said, yep, you're pregnant.
He then said, "Oh, lets see when the due date is. When was your last period."
I told him when and he proceeded to take out his iphone. I said something like, um, really, on your phone?
Mr. Neruda said, "Is there really an app for that?"
And the good doctor responded, "Damn right there's an app for that!" and then he guffawed.
Fascinating. Since I could have downloaded that very app myself and done the same thing at home I feel a little jipped. What a waste of a co-pay.
I am now currently in pursuit of every little girl's dream, a gyno!
Mostly it was a let down. They just re-tested me (because those test are SO difficult to operate) and then came in and said, yep, you're pregnant.
He then said, "Oh, lets see when the due date is. When was your last period."
I told him when and he proceeded to take out his iphone. I said something like, um, really, on your phone?
Mr. Neruda said, "Is there really an app for that?"
And the good doctor responded, "Damn right there's an app for that!" and then he guffawed.
Fascinating. Since I could have downloaded that very app myself and done the same thing at home I feel a little jipped. What a waste of a co-pay.
I am now currently in pursuit of every little girl's dream, a gyno!
Excellent customer service
Recently, Mr. Neruda and I went to the store to get a pregnancy test. We could not find the test so we stopped a nice worker and asked for directions. The nice worker (who had exceptionally friendly tones) said, "Go that way to that aisle, their by the rublas."
We nodded and walked away. As we walked in the direction indicated Mr. Neruda asked me what she said. I said that I thought she said "rubals" but I don't know what that means. He said, "I think she said rubbers." Then it hit me. That is exactly what she said.
We literally stopped in the aisle in fits of laughter, almost being plowed over by a cart behind us.
And in fact, they were by the rubbers. A whole wall of rubbers.
Ones we probably should have used before. I think it mean spirited to put the two together. It is like rubbing those who need the tests' faces in the birth control they should have been using.
We nodded and walked away. As we walked in the direction indicated Mr. Neruda asked me what she said. I said that I thought she said "rubals" but I don't know what that means. He said, "I think she said rubbers." Then it hit me. That is exactly what she said.
We literally stopped in the aisle in fits of laughter, almost being plowed over by a cart behind us.
And in fact, they were by the rubbers. A whole wall of rubbers.
Ones we probably should have used before. I think it mean spirited to put the two together. It is like rubbing those who need the tests' faces in the birth control they should have been using.
The fruit of our amorous entwine
I received some interesting news this past week.
Mind-numbing, blood-curdling, seizure-inducing news.
Mr. Neruda and I had a night of irresponsible sex. We are usually most careful, but after 5+ years of amorous entwines we are bound to become complacent occasionally.
There is currently an omelet the size of a sesame seed inside my belly at this very moment.
Um . . .
Mind-numbing, blood-curdling, seizure-inducing news.
Mr. Neruda and I had a night of irresponsible sex. We are usually most careful, but after 5+ years of amorous entwines we are bound to become complacent occasionally.
There is currently an omelet the size of a sesame seed inside my belly at this very moment.
Um . . .
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