Monday, May 25, 2009

Memorial Day Recap

Or the official start to my fourth summer in Massachusetts. :-)

Friday
I took the day off -- always a good idea. Around 9 a.m., I hauled myself into Boston in the 90-degree heat for a very special appointment (i.e. leg wax) . Why didn't I take the car? No idea. My commitment to sustainability? Probably not. I just didn't think of it. Note to others: the T sucks ass when you are pregnant and it's that hot out. The T sucks ass even more when you have to ASK people to give you a seat. By the time I arrived, I was sweaty and late and had to change my underwear. Hot. The appointment was uneventful, and I now have fresh, smooth legs which make me happy.

I took the train back (again, why?) and treated myself to some massive chicken tacos from Chipotle and spent the next hour and a half of my day off, sitting on my ass on the couch eating "mexican" and watching What Not to Wear reruns. It was awesome. Really. Then I picked MG up at school and brought her to a doctor's appointment before coming home to a deliciously yummy meal out on the porch, prepared by YG. After dinner, we walked up to JP Licks for ice cream and people watching and the Square was packed and bustling, and summer is officially here.

Saturday
Adventures in Personal Grooming continued on Saturday. I have no idea when this kid is coming, but I'm relatively positive that I won't have time to wipe my ass, never mind get a pedi in the upcoming weeks, so I had my hair cut and colored and then got a pedicure. I decided to walk the 2 miles home from Harvard and two women told me that I looked lovely, and another shouted from across Mass Ave, "I hope that baby has your beautiful hair." I will miss this part of pregnancy -- the random strangers complimenting you on how pretty you are. I think that should be an everyday occurrance.

When YG returned from bringing MG back to her mother's house, we finished off the nursery, putting up the wallpaper border. The ceiling is too high for me to reach, and he's still dizzy a lot of the time, so it was relatively harrowing, but we made it through without bickering -- a feat of greatness, considering I grew up in a house where bickering over shared chores is the norm, with physical violence and full-on shouting matches reserved for larger chores.

We took the T back into the North End for dinner, and ate at Taranta. I had read the reviews in Zagat and on Open Table and they didn't disappoint. We both loaded up on pasta (a lobster and crabmeat ravioli for me, and a sausage and onion dish for him) and chatted with a nice, young couple sitting next to us who were out on a date night away from their two kids at home.

I was hoping to avoid the insomnia again, but that didn't work. I was in my usual spot on the couch from 2-4 a.m., watching a documentary on the early days of AIDS.

Sunday
On Sunday, I woke up late and noticed that I hadn't felt Zygote move in a while. I know that this is fairly normal at this point in pregnancy, but as the doctors instruct you, I drank two big glasses of water and sat on the couch for a while with my hands on my stomach. Nothing. I then tried jiggling the belly around a little bit, poking and prodding spots where I normally feel kicks. Still nothing. I decided I was being paranoid, so we took showers and took the 77 down to Harvard, fully intending to go to church as usual. YG suggested I call the doctor just to be sure.

We were sitting on a bench on Cambridge Common, right outside the church, when the doctor on call called back, asked me a bunch of questions, and then suggested that I come in to the hospital. I hung up the phone and immediately burst into tears. Sobbing tears. Out of nowhere. All throughout this pregnancy, I have definitely felt a bond with Zygote (it's hard not to when you have something growing inside of you), but I've felt removed and disconnected from friends who have talked about loving their in utero babies so much. Love just seemed like an odd choice of words, and then I course, obsess over being a bad mother already. I just think it's hard to love something in the abstract, and I've looked forward to meeting the actual person so that I can love him or her for real. But when the doctor said to come in, my brain went hospital/problem/baby/terror and I went from 0-60 without even being able to process it. YG was great, though. He told me that the crying would not help speed things along, and we hailed a cab and set off for Mount Auburn.

At the hospital, I had to sit through some annoying paperwork and registration, but once I got up to Labor & Delivery, I was put on the monitor and given lots of juice and water to drink. Zygote was in there, just napping, and "looked beautiful," according to the nurse. We had an ultrasound and saw the flexing of tiny hands and the slight movement of tiny feet. Of course, my kid would wait until we were actually in the hospital to start wiggling around, but the staff assured me that we had done the right thing by calling and coming in. Still, I felt silly. I am supposed to be perfect, after all. An hour later, we were discharged and walked back to Harvard Square where I ate away my idiocy in the beer garden at Charlie's. I know it's a Cambridge institution, but we never ate there before, and hell yeah, those are the best burgers in Cambridge. YG had something called a veggie reuben and that was delicious as well.

Back at home, we had some sexy adult time (i.e. napping on the couch while watching bad t.v.) and later went to the park for some exercise, before meeting some friends for dinner down the street. We finally got around to watching Milk, and I cried. Even though you know how it's going to end, it's still heartbreaking. The old footage of the cops rounding up gays gets me every time. And then I slept. Through the night. Horray.

Monday
Woke up late and enjoyed a nutritious breakfast of Cosmic Cocos, Whole Foods' organic version of cocoa puffs. Then we went back to sleep for another hour -- indulgent. Afterwards, we spent two hours planting. I've never really been into gardening, but YG loves it so we picked up a bunch of plants and arranged a border in the garden outside our kitchen, and planted a few other large buckets. It ended up being a lot of fun, and it looks beautiful. I'm hoping to manage it over the summer, and spend some time out there with Z.

We ate lunch (latkes and gazpacho, a match that should go together more often) on the porch, admiring our handy work. Then we drove over to Danehay Park so that I could take a walk, and YG could test his balance on his bike. He did well and was happy, and we sat on the benches and ate peaches while people watching.

And now, we're (by we, I mean YG) prepping for another meal outside and if the weather holds up, another walk up to JP's for ice cream. It may not seem like much. It's probably a boring weekend for many, but I don't know how much more adult time we have left and I have thoroughly enjoyed doing a lot of nothing lounging around in my bathrobe.

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