I guess the point of this blog is to be honest. (And ammunition for my kid to use against me when he grows up......) If the latter is the case, here comes some serious time in therapy:
I've started baby shopping. I'm hitting the consignment and retail stores. Some friends have hooked me up with some awesome baby gear. Now I'm staring at the baby swing sitting in my living room and and thinking WTF was I thinking?!?!?! In about 5 months there is going to be an actual baby sitting in that swing. I think I've just now realized that this baby isn't just paying a visit; he's gonna be here to stay- FOREVER. Again: WTF was I thinking?!?!?!?!
The fear started creeping in last week when we had a baby shower for Stephanie. It was a post-natal event, so she brought little Emerson with her. Now it's been a hot minute since I've been around an infant; I'd been picturing a chubby Gerber Baby crawling around here. But I've since realized that babies are very breakable. My kid's head is going to fall off!
Then Allison sent me an email with "helpful" tips for getting ready for the birth. Now, if by helpful they meant "scare you shitless" then consider me helped. I've purposefully kept away from the What to Expect When You're Expecting type books.
Here is what I expect: 1) I will feel discomfort in varying degrees. 2) Weird things are happening in my body.
That's all I need to know. I don't want to read crazy could-bes. I left Abnormal Psych convinced I had several serious mental disorders. The last thing I need is to self-diagnose an inverted uterus or something. But this so-called "helpful" tip sheet brought up all sorts of horrors about pain, and sweating, and discomfort on the extreme side of the spectrum. I don't want to do any of that.
Do you know what I like to do? Sleep. Travel. Read. Shop. It is important to note that none of these activities involve pain, poo, or being tied to the house. You may have also noted that a baby will severely limit the time I can spend doing my favorite things. Again: WTF was I thinking?!?!?!
So, I'm in limbo. I'm almost in denial. I'm buying and collecting practical things. It's like I'm preparing for battle. Or for one of those end-of-civilization-as-we-know-it scenarios. All those cutesy baby clothes I couldn't wait to get my hands on don't seem cute enough anymore. Bedding is outrageously expensive. Setting up this room is going to be an expensive pain in the ass! I don't want to plan my shower. I want a pause button. Wasn't there some sci-fi show where the aliens could stay pregnant for as long as they wanted? How do I sign up for that?
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
It's a Boy! (or.... I'm a flake!)
I went for the ultrasound today- and there it was- a boy!
Let me begin by saying, this is what I wanted. I had younger brothers, girls get crazy (hell, look at me!), and I knew Art would bond and get on board with a boy more than a girl. During my trying to get pregnant days I went so far as to read about different ways to ensure a boy. If you ever want to know, I've got plenty of info on ovulation cycles and sperm mobility.
However, I'm a firm believer in getting screwed by the universe. I knew that since Art and I were both hoping for a boy, I'd get a girl. So from the time I scheduled the ultrasound I was doing my best to talk myself into a girl. I had tons of reasons that a girl would be awesome. I love pink. I like sparkly things. I love Disney. The girl clothes are super cute. We could get our nails done together. We could have similar hobbies and interests later in life (like when she's in her late 20's and done with those crap years). But the bottom line is: I had talked myself into a girl.
It turns out I'm quite persuasive. When the radiologist said "It's a boy!" I was divided. I thought "Hooray!" and at the same time "Oh no!" because now I wouldn't get all those good things I'd be telling myself about for weeks.
But I'm truly, 100% happy with my baby boy.... I guess we'll just have to try for a girl later!
Let me begin by saying, this is what I wanted. I had younger brothers, girls get crazy (hell, look at me!), and I knew Art would bond and get on board with a boy more than a girl. During my trying to get pregnant days I went so far as to read about different ways to ensure a boy. If you ever want to know, I've got plenty of info on ovulation cycles and sperm mobility.
However, I'm a firm believer in getting screwed by the universe. I knew that since Art and I were both hoping for a boy, I'd get a girl. So from the time I scheduled the ultrasound I was doing my best to talk myself into a girl. I had tons of reasons that a girl would be awesome. I love pink. I like sparkly things. I love Disney. The girl clothes are super cute. We could get our nails done together. We could have similar hobbies and interests later in life (like when she's in her late 20's and done with those crap years). But the bottom line is: I had talked myself into a girl.
It turns out I'm quite persuasive. When the radiologist said "It's a boy!" I was divided. I thought "Hooray!" and at the same time "Oh no!" because now I wouldn't get all those good things I'd be telling myself about for weeks.
But I'm truly, 100% happy with my baby boy.... I guess we'll just have to try for a girl later!
Friday, October 8, 2010
It's All a Lie!
My blog that this. OF COURSE I'm going to spend 9 months bitching! I can't go 9 minutes without complaining about SOMETHING. That's just how I roll. But here's my secret. I'm laying low for now.
Whenever someone (at work, in-laws, etc.) asks me how I'm feeling I respond with, "I'm fine, just tired." That's pretty much the truth. Except when my back hurts. Or when I have gas. Or when I can actually feel my skin stretching across my stomach (ew). Or when I have a headache. Or when I feel so fuzzy in the noggin that I can't focus on what my students are reading. Or when I feel like I have to hurl. Or when I'm so dizzy I can barely sit up straight...... You get the point. But I am resisting complaining about all this like a champ!
Why? Here is my devious plan:
1) I know that no one REALLY wants to know how I'm actually feeling. I think it's a given that I feel like crap. Asking me how I feel is just a sneaky attempt to segue into a story about how bad THEY felt during their pregnancy. Usually I still get a snippet of a personal story, but I avoid the tit-for-tat you listened to my bitching, so now I am honor bound to hear your crappy story.
2) I'm saving it up. I know (thanks to all those awesome stories) that by the end I'm going to be MISERABLE. Well, if I've spent 9 months bitching, I won't get any sympathy when I really need it! I'll be the girl who whined wolf. I think restraining myself now will earn me extra sympathy later. Everyone will think Wow, she must be feeling worse than most people- because she hasn't complained about anything so far...... And then they'll do something nice for me- like take over some shitty project I don't want to finish. And it'll be smooth sailing from there.....
Whenever someone (at work, in-laws, etc.) asks me how I'm feeling I respond with, "I'm fine, just tired." That's pretty much the truth. Except when my back hurts. Or when I have gas. Or when I can actually feel my skin stretching across my stomach (ew). Or when I have a headache. Or when I feel so fuzzy in the noggin that I can't focus on what my students are reading. Or when I feel like I have to hurl. Or when I'm so dizzy I can barely sit up straight...... You get the point. But I am resisting complaining about all this like a champ!
Why? Here is my devious plan:
1) I know that no one REALLY wants to know how I'm actually feeling. I think it's a given that I feel like crap. Asking me how I feel is just a sneaky attempt to segue into a story about how bad THEY felt during their pregnancy. Usually I still get a snippet of a personal story, but I avoid the tit-for-tat you listened to my bitching, so now I am honor bound to hear your crappy story.
2) I'm saving it up. I know (thanks to all those awesome stories) that by the end I'm going to be MISERABLE. Well, if I've spent 9 months bitching, I won't get any sympathy when I really need it! I'll be the girl who whined wolf. I think restraining myself now will earn me extra sympathy later. Everyone will think Wow, she must be feeling worse than most people- because she hasn't complained about anything so far...... And then they'll do something nice for me- like take over some shitty project I don't want to finish. And it'll be smooth sailing from there.....
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Fat Pants
If I had known how comfortable maternity pants were, I'd have gotten knocked up years ago! I bought my first pair very early on- week 10 or so, because my pants just didn't feel comfortable. It was a depressing experience though. All the prego websites said I shouldn't be into maternity clothes that soon, so I realized that the tightness in my pants was not due to baby, but due to my own fat ass. But I was NOT going to by bigger pants. That would be admitting to the world that I was throwing all hope of diets to the wind, and it would ruin the fantasy bubble I had (and still have, really) that pregnancy will magically make me eat healthier and I will come out of these 9 months skinnier and healthier than ever! (STOP LAUGHING!)
SO, when I bought the pants, it was with teary eyes (and not tears of joy, people!). But I soon came to realize that these pants were the best article of clothing I'd purchased in YEARS! They sit low and have a kinda thick, soft, elastic waistband. Wow! It's like wearing pajama pants! And they're pajama pants you can wear in public- and not get weird looks! Since then I've gotten 2 more pairs.
I suppose this shouldn't be a shock. I didn't wear jeans until high school. I HATED the feel of denim. The waistbands were uncomfortable. The zippers pissed me off. I guess high school was the time when designers started dropping waistbands to hips so that (and crazy peer pressure) finally made them tolerable.
Now that I have a legitimate baby bump, I've taken the next step. I saw a pair of Capri jeans on sale. This is a staple of a Florida wardrobe. These jeans however, do not have the low, gentle waistband. I'm talking full-on pregnancy panel. Life-changing...... seriously, life-changing. Once again I'm a bit premature in this purchase (but I've always been an over achiever). I can actually pull the panel up over my boobs, so wearing them might be overkill- but that sure as hell isn't going to stop me! I'm pretty sure I will never wear regular pants ever again.
So guys, if you want to have a baby and your wife isn't playing along.... by her a pair of maternity pants! It could be an "accident." Say "What? They're maternity pants? I had no idea, I thought they'd be good for yoga." Or buy them, and cut out the Pea in the Pod tag. The point is- get her IN them. They'll be no turning back. OK, I realize the above scenario is unreasonable. A GUY tricking a GIRL into having a baby?!?!? HA! So ladies, if you are DYING to be a grandmother and your daughter isn't on board, I have a plan.... (see above).
SO, when I bought the pants, it was with teary eyes (and not tears of joy, people!). But I soon came to realize that these pants were the best article of clothing I'd purchased in YEARS! They sit low and have a kinda thick, soft, elastic waistband. Wow! It's like wearing pajama pants! And they're pajama pants you can wear in public- and not get weird looks! Since then I've gotten 2 more pairs.
I suppose this shouldn't be a shock. I didn't wear jeans until high school. I HATED the feel of denim. The waistbands were uncomfortable. The zippers pissed me off. I guess high school was the time when designers started dropping waistbands to hips so that (and crazy peer pressure) finally made them tolerable.
Now that I have a legitimate baby bump, I've taken the next step. I saw a pair of Capri jeans on sale. This is a staple of a Florida wardrobe. These jeans however, do not have the low, gentle waistband. I'm talking full-on pregnancy panel. Life-changing...... seriously, life-changing. Once again I'm a bit premature in this purchase (but I've always been an over achiever). I can actually pull the panel up over my boobs, so wearing them might be overkill- but that sure as hell isn't going to stop me! I'm pretty sure I will never wear regular pants ever again.
So guys, if you want to have a baby and your wife isn't playing along.... by her a pair of maternity pants! It could be an "accident." Say "What? They're maternity pants? I had no idea, I thought they'd be good for yoga." Or buy them, and cut out the Pea in the Pod tag. The point is- get her IN them. They'll be no turning back. OK, I realize the above scenario is unreasonable. A GUY tricking a GIRL into having a baby?!?!? HA! So ladies, if you are DYING to be a grandmother and your daughter isn't on board, I have a plan.... (see above).
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