Sunday, August 15, 2010

Team Unfortunate


So, this has nothing to do with pregnancy, I just thought I should save it so I could always remember when the Twilight craze went too far...yes, this cat is dressed as Edward Cullen. At a fashion show.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

My body, next on Animal Planet


I guess everyone has that moment where the realization they are pregnant really sinks in. I'm not talking so much about those happy, glowing moments where you feel your child move and are filled with love and excitement...I've had those, and yes, they were great.

This is more the moment where you catch glimpse of yourself and it finally sinks in that very round, large woman is actually you.

My moment happened earlier today, while I was innocently minding my own business, going to see a matinee with a couple of friends. I was actually feeling pretty cute in my new Old Navy maternity skirt and fitted tee. Before walking out the door I may have even been feeling a little smug, here I was, 5 1/2 months pregnant, and I wondered if anyone could even tell.

Oh, they can tell alright.

My little dream world crashed down around me when I was standing next to my tall, thin friend in front of those darn reflecting windows.

Seriously, I looked exactly like one of those snakes that swallowed a huge egg and then topped it off with a couple of Hostess snowball cupcakes. And did I get shorter? Who was this squat thing standing around in the dumpy skirt and too-tight top?

So, evidently the fact that I am pregnant is no longer only apparent when I am lying on my back, feeling that joyful kick. Nope, it has more or less is being announced to the world every time me and me big belly leave the front door. That's right world, I look like Frosty the Snowman and I am proud of it.

For the record, I did not bother to look in the window when we were on our way out. I was pretty sure my "fitted" tee was losing a battle to the vat of popcorn and gallon of cola I'd just consumed, and nobody needs to see that.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

The Name Game

One of the first things people start to ask when you announce that you are pregnant is "So, have you decided on a name?" This question gets more and more urgent the further you progress, as if naming the baby will somehow be the vailidation that there is actually a baby in there and you didn't just "biggie size" your Whopper meal.

More than one new parent warned me against sharing our chosen name with the world before the ink was dry on the birth certificate. I could not for the life of me figure out why, obviously our friends and family were very eager for this information so they would certainly be thrilled when we made the big announcement.

Wrong, dead wrong.
We decided to name our little boy John Robert, we will be calling him Rip. I relayed this news excitedly to friends and family, finally what they had all been waiting for...

After months of saying she did not care WHAT we named the baby, it was OUR baby, my own mother was the first to weigh in.
Mother (in voice slightly strained with panic): "Just remember, this is for the REST OF HIS LIFE. Why don't you just try it out for a little while and see how you feel?"
Me (much less excitedly than 30 seconds prior): "Mama, I think we are pretty sure that is going to be his name."
Mother (forcefully): "I just really think you should think about it, THIS IS FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE."

My sister was more to the point when she made her opinion known in a succinct text message: "Don't name your baby Rip, it reminds me of a poot."

Various other friends and family members have been more passively aggressive about our choice, "Well, he could always go by John or Robert" (i.e. He could always go by John or Robert when he is old enough to have some sense and realizes what morons his parents are)

So lesson learned. If you don't want to think of your child's name as a bodily function, best to do the big reveal after it is no longer acceptable for others to voice their opinions. I'll keep that in mind for child number two (I'm thinking VanWinkle Harris).

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Here I sit, with two bags of chips...

Somewhere along the line, I learned the little sing-songy phrase, "Here I sit, on two little chips, come and kiss my pretty little lips"...well, according to my last doctor's appointment, nobody is going to be kissing my pretty little lips for at least five more months. I have been placed on "pelvic rest", which basically means no extracurriculars in the bedroom. I feel like I have to point out here that my husband did not seem that upset by the news, which I found pretty offensive.

The latest development came after one of the more frustrating doctor's appointments that I have ever had. I was in for my big 20 weeker, which for most women means you can find out the sex of the baby. We went in knowing that we had a bouncing baby boy on the way, so I was ready to settle in and enjoy the show.

Just as an aside, I find ultrasound rooms awkward, there you are with your shirt jerked up around your neck and jelly smeared all over your body while everyone else stands around fully clothed. Makes me feel at a real disadvantage in the event of a emergency situation (fire, flood, what have you).

By law, ultrasound techs cannot make any diagnosis, they have to wait for an actual doctor to let you know if anything is wrong. We knew almost immediately that something was not right. No, not because we are ultrasound savants and noticed something alarming on the screen (the little guy looked fine to me, waving his arms around to beat the band). It was mostly that our particular tech did not let the law stop her from making all kind of tskking and mmmm-mmming sounds. Parke and I immediately went on high alert, peppering her with questions as to what exactly was wrong. After comforting comments like,"I don't know how to say this without making it sound scary" and "I can't say, but I haven't seen something like this in so many years I don't remember the name of it", Little Miss Subtle went to retrieve the doctor.

So, there we sat for upwards of 30 minutes, waiting on the doctor to come in and drop the bomb. We sat for so long the goo dried on my stomach and hardened into a little mold of my belly button.

Finally, the doctor flies in, makes a diagnoses that involved a lot of hand motions, that to me looked like when paper beats rock (thankfully, there were no scissors). What it basically boiled down to was that while the baby is fine, his umbilical cord is all wonky and in a place that could cause me to have a C-section. Also, no sex, running, lifting, taking hot baths, getting hot in general, or doing anything remotely fun(in additon to not being able to eat or drink anything found outside of the organic food section). And then she was gone.

So, now it is the weekend. Obviously and most importantly, I am beyond thrilled that our baby is fine. That said, this really sucks. I am basically allowed to sit on my rapidly growing behind and watch TV while my husband (helpfully) is surfing. Here I sit, with two bags of chips, with nobody to kiss my big fat lips. At least there are salt and vinegar...yum.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Things that are never socially exceptable to say to a pregnant woman (Part 1)

These are just a few things that have been said and done to me in the past five months. This post is "Part 1", because I have 4 months left, which leaves plenty of opportunity for people to say stupid stuff. Let's review...

Scenario One: Oh, wow! You are 2 minutes pregnant?! Let me squeeze the fool out of your stomach.
Reason why it is Unacceptable: If I am not currently feeling my child move, there is absolutely no good reason for your hand to be on my stomach. I am informed on a weekly basis that this thing growing inside of me is the size of grape, so whatever you are grabbing is most likely the McFlurry I couldn't pass up on my way home from work. Hands off. This rule applies double if I met you in the last five minutes.

Scenario 2: Whoa, you are really getting HUGE!
Reason why it is Unacceptable: I really would think this should be self-explanatory, but no. Here is a tip, if you would not say it to a woman who is not pregnant, probably pretty unwise to a woman so hopped up on hormones she she is capable of almost anything. Including commenting on your recent weight gain.

Scenario 3: My niece/cousin/neighbor once removed just had a miscarriage at (insert your week of pregnancy here)
Reason why it is Unacceptable: Okay, pregnancy is one of the most nerve wracking times of a woman's life. And while I am certainly sympathetic towards your grocery bagger's recent misfortune, there is absolutely no reason I need to hear about it in my current state. This also holds true for any of the horror-filled birth stories you may have experienced. I am happy to hear about how they had to take out all of your internal organs to save your little bundle of joy, but let's save it for another time, kay?

Scenario 4: Does your face break out like that normally?
Reason why it is Unnacceptable: Seriously people. Pregnancy is full of lovely little gems that nobody talks about until they happen. The fact that you could cook french fries on my face is just one of them. If you want to get into the large purple vein running down my right boob we can, if not, best just to tell me I am glowing an move on.

So, I hope we have all learned a little something from this. Basically the same rules apply for pregnancy as they did in kindergarten..if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.