June 2009
Dear Zygote –
This is your birth story. Even though I, your mother, consider myself a writer, I had a hard time describing the monsoon of emotions that came up during your last few weeks in utero and your eventual birth. These are just the details. Maybe someday we will get to the emotional part, but I wanted to remember everything before it started to fade away. Also, I know my grammar sucks. And yes, this is hard for a writer. We’ll deal.
Your Due Date: June 2, 2009
Your dad and I went to see Dr. Fine at Harvard Vanguard and you were still looking very big and hadn’t descended. She sent us to get an ultrasound to check your size, and we drove across the city to Boston Ultrasound in Brookline through tons of traffic and ended up waiting for an hour to be seen. Two different people took your measurements. One put you at 9 lbs, 3 oz. and the other put you much over. An average of 9 lbs, 10 oz was determined. Dr. Fine was worried about you being over 10 lbs and me not being able to push you out. We spoke that afternoon and she felt that someone my height and weight could push out a 10 pounder. I was happy. I didn’t want to schedule a C-section.
Your dad and I drove out to Ayer and picked up your big sister, Jessica, from your grandparents’ house. We had pasta for dinner and watched The Simpsons, one of Jess’ favorite shows.
The Next Week
Over the course of the next week, I did everything that I could to get you to drop or get my cervix dilated and effaced. I went to the gym almost every day and took walks around our neighborhood. We also tried evening primrose oil, red raspberry leaf tea, spicy food—all things I had previously dismissed as “hippie shit.” Then we set up the breast pump and I would sit on the exercise ball and bounce, hoping something would happen. We looked at my belly in the mirror every day and convinced ourselves that you were moving. We also spent a lot of time going out to eat with friends, figuring we’d be pretty cooped up after you were born. Sol and Brandon came over for ice cream, and Matt, who was visiting from San Francisco, came over twice. Your Nana Bonnie called every day to check your status. On Sunday, we even snuck in some last meal out at Harvest, waiting for your arrival. On the menu – apple cinnamon pierogies, huevos rancheros and lemon semifreddo for dessert.
We did some chores around the house on Sunday and planned on eating light that evening, but we finally met our “new” neighbors and they invited us over for steaks on their back porch. Of course, we said yes and even joked that it was the sort of random thing that happened in other people’s birth stories. We were still hoping you might come out on your own. You had other plans.
Monday, June 8
We went back to see Dr. Fine. You were still pretty high and I wasn’t dilated at all, so we decided to do an induction on Tuesday night to see if we could get things moving. Your dad and I went home and finished our chores and errands. I told work that it would be my last day and happily put on my out-of-office response for the next 16 weeks. I also did laundry and gave the cats extra food. We then walked up to the gym for one last workout together in the hopes of exercising you out. No such luck.
We then decided on dessert before dinner and went for ice cream at JP Licks before picking up a pizza at Mike’s for home. I ate about a third of that pizza, knowing that I wouldn’t have much of an appetite for the next few days. Then we just went home and relaxed.
Tuesday, June 9: Induction Day
I slept late that morning and let Alistair, one of our cats, stay in bed with me longer than normal. Your dad had some work emails to finish up so I read some books and burned CDs for the hospital. It was a rainy day so I couldn’t go for a walk, but your dad and I decided we wanted one last adult lunch in Davis Square before your birth. We broke out the umbrellas and headed up to Blue Shirt Café and ordered our usual: a wrap to split and vegetable soups. I don’t remember what exactly we talked about, but your dad was probably talking me off the ledge as usual. I was VERY nervous about your arrival. As is my typical way, I was totally logistically prepared for your birth, but emotionally, I was a wreck. I was afraid of labor, scared of screwing you up and afraid of messing up the good relationship your dad and I have. I was worried about being a mom. Your dad has been through this before so he understood.
We decided to get something sweet and headed over to Mr. Crepe to split a chocolate and banana crepe and decaf café au laits. The guy working the counter was sweet, and when he found out I was being induced that afternoon, he told us he was happy we chose to spend our day there.
After lunch, we walked back to the house and double-checked our bags. More typical behavior for your dad and I. We always double check in the event that our items decided to make a break from the bags when we weren’t looking. At 3:30, I called the hospital and they instructed me to come over after dinner. They told me to eat at home where the food was better. We snuggled in the bed for a while, talked about what you might be like, and made some veggie burgers for dinner that we ate while watching bad t.v. on the couch.
We called our families and the doula to let them know what was going on and headed over to Mt. Auburn Hospital. We almost left our second bag in the car because we assumed that with your position, the induction wouldn’t work and that we’d be going home the next day. Our doula told us that happened frequently with first pregnancies so we worked out a preferred schedule of when we would go home and what induction methods we would try next.
In Labor and Delivery, we were assigned a room and I changed into my johnnie gown. Another doctor, Dr. Andersen, came in and explained how the Cervidil application would work, and then waited for the order to be placed. It came quickly and burned immediately. We settled in and watched the Yankees/Red Sox game. The Yankees played horribly; losing 7-0, Burnett vs. Beckett, and it seemed excruciatingly long. We needed to wait 12 hours to see if the Cervidil had succeeded or not.
The nurses were nice enough to find your dad a cot so went to bed, the last good night sleep we had. I was given and Ambien to help me get to bed and tried to ignore the beeping of all the monitors.
Wednesday, June 10: Laboring
When I woke up, I noticed that I was having minor contractions, and that I was really uncomfortable. Dr. Fine came around 8:30 a.m. and removed the Cervidil application. It was incredibly painful and burned so much that I started to cry. Her internal exam made me writhe in pain. It turns out that I was allergic to the medication and had a bad reaction that was causing me to swell and burn, very convenient when anticipating labor.
The positive? It worked! I was 2 cm dilated and 80% effaced. Dr. Fine advised that I start working with my contractions so your dad and I decided to stay in the hospital and not go home to labor as originally planned.
It was still early when I first started to believe that I might not be able to do this. We had originally told our doula to come after lunch, but after a few hours of whimpering, I asked your dad to call her. I took a shower in an attempt to relax. The water felt good on my back, but I started getting very sleepy. I wanted to lie down in the bed, but every time I did, I would get nauseous and start to gag. My back was in unbelievable pain, but none of the recommended back labor positions were working for me, so I just started to cry again.
I don’t remember how long I cried, but while I did, your dad put all of my focal points and pictures on the bed: a picture of the beach on Long Island, a picture of the beach on Longboat Key when your dad and I went to spring training in Florida, and a rock that had the word “grace” carved into it, a present from our minister, Dan, for when your dad was first dealing with his hearing loss. I sat on the birthing ball and tried to focus on them. The only two positions that seemed to give me any relief were the ball and sitting in the rocking chair where I was able to doze off for a little bit.
The contractions were hard, but in between, I was able to talk a little and walk around. I don’t remember when Ananda, our doula, arrived, but I think it was around noon. I was in the middle of a contraction, crying, with my eyes closed when I felt another set of hands on me. Ananda and your dad kept massaging me and helping me through back labor, one of the most painful kinds of labor (or so I read). They would push down as hard as they could on my back to apply counter pressure, but I was still in incredible pain.
Around mid afternoon, Dr. Fine came in for a status check. I was dilated to 5 cm, but you were still facing the wrong direction, sunny side up, and she wanted me to walk around to try and get you turned around. The next couple of hours were a blur, and I don’t remember time as much as just pain. Your dad figured out a system that helped me manage the pain a little bit better. He would watch the contractions on the monitor and shout out to me when they were peaking. I would cry and scream, “I need this to be over,” and he we would yell, “almost over” or “done, done.” That was the only thing keeping me sane.
They were also worried about me not eating and needing the strength to continue through. Months earlier, when we were at a “Meet the Doctors” session at the hospital, one of the doctors mentioned that women wouldn’t be worried or thinking about food while In labor. At the time, I couldn’t imagine any situation in which I would not be thinking about what to eat, but they were right. All the carefully prepared healthy snacks we had picked up before going to the hospital seemed disgusting to me. Against my will, I ate a banana that Ananda offered and your dad smeared with peanut butter. That was probably the worst banana I have ever eaten. Your dad left to make some phone calls, and Ananda helped me, still whimpering about wanting to go home, to the bed. I think I was lying down for about five minutes, when I suddenly shouted, “puke. PUKE.” Ananda grabbed a basin just in time for me to vomit up everything. Worst Banana in the World: 1. Me: 0.
We decided I should take a bath to try and deal with the pain. I took a pillow into the tub and sat in the water while your father poured warm water over my belly. It was relaxing, but I didn’t like being away from our “system.” The contractions seemed worse when I didn’t know that they would be ending.
I had another status check and had progressed to 6 cm, but things weren’t moving as fast as the doctors would like. You still weren’t descending. And the contractions just kept getting worse, with the back pain not lessening. Your dad and Ananda suggested I try another position to try and turn you. My most vivid memory of this part of labor was kneeling on the bed with my face and limbs wrapped around the top part of it, just screaming bloody murder and crying. I felt delirious and kept saying that I wanted it all to be over with and that I wanted to go home. I was pretty sure that we were nearing dinnertime, and I just knew that at only 6 cm and several hours into labor, that I would not be able to manage the pain on my own. I started begging for drugs, but your dad and Ananda told me to take it one contraction at a time. I don’t know how long I did that, but finally, I burst out crying again with an “I am not fucking around. I need some help. Please! Please!”
We called Dr. Fine and she went over our options. I still knew that I didn’t want an epidural. I wanted to be able to move around and to feel you, so I opted for a narcotic. The shot of Nubane must have been enormous because two weeks later, I still have a bruise, but it was such a relief. I could still feel my contractions, but they felt more like those from the early morning – the ones that I thought were totally not manageable at the time. I was able to relax a little. Your dad and Ananda ate dinner. We watched the second Yankees-Red Sox game. The Yankees lost. Again.
Thursday, June 11: Birthday
I don’t remember a lot of what happened next, but after a few hours, the narcotic started to wear off. The contractions were back and painful, but they hadn’t sped up. My labor was starting to stall out at 7 cm and I was feeling everything. Still, you hadn’t descended.
I managed through a few contractions, but then I asked Dr. Fine if I could get another shot. She wanted me to try and get things moving on my own and suggested I take a bath or a walk. Your dad and Ananda got me up and we did several laps around the L&D ward, stopping whenever I would have a contraction. One of the awesome night nurses kept telling me how great I looked and to keep going. We walked over to the post-partum wing and watched a little baby in the nursery getting cleaned up. Your dad kept me reminding me that you were coming soon, and we looked out the window at the Charles River at night. We walked back and I received my second Nubane shot.
At that point, we all tried to sleep. Ananda slept on a mat on the floor, and your dad slept on a chair next to me with his head on the bed. When he would hear me cry out during a contraction, he would grab my hand in his sleep. Dr. Fine checked me again, and I had progressed to 9.5 cm but still needed to efface more. You had descended a little, but not enough. At this point, she told me that we were probably looking at several more hours before being able to push. The narcotic was wearing off, and I was exhausted so sometime around 4 a.m., almost 24 hours in, I decided to get the epidural. I wanted the strength to be able to push and knew I couldn’t handle another few hours of contractions.
Your dad and Ananda had to leave the room, and I had to stay with the one nurse who had been brusque and rude earlier. When the anesthiologist came and expressed disbelief that someone would get an epidural at 9.5 cm, she immediately warmed up and said that I had been through enough and held my shoulders as I battled and shook through my next set of contractions, crying. We had problems getting the needle in, and he thought he might need to retry, but then everything came together. The relief was immediate. It was hard to remember what I had been so scared of. Your dad and Ananda came back, and we all went to bed.
Around 6 or 7 a.m., Dr. Fine came back and checked me again. I was exactly the same as I was a few hours prior. We decided to break my water to see if that would speed things up. Even that was problematic. She had to try a few times before the bag would finally break, and when it did, I was happy I was in the hospital. This was no small trickle. More like an endless gush. Dr. Fine started talking about the possibility of a C-Section if you didn’t descend more, but she wanted to give me more time to labor.
Her shift ended at 8, and I was turned over to Dr. Liau. She went through the same explanations as Dr. Fine and told me that I had finally progressed to 10 cm, but still hadn’t descended. She thought we should give you more time and then try to push you down. We waited. Your dad made some phone calls. The nurses prepped the room.
When it came time to start pushing, I was asked to roll onto my back. I had been on my side for hours in the hopes that it would move you face down and further into the birth canal. On my back, your heart rate plummeted and there was frantic activity to get me back on my side. We tried again, but the same thing happened. And again. They gave me an oxygen mask that stayed on for the duration of my labor.
Dr. Liau again explained our options. We could try to push, and then run the risk of an emergency C if you continued to get into trouble, or we could choose to get a C-section and give them time to prep the operating room and me. It my choice, but I desperately wanted someone to tell me what to do.
Your dad and I asked everyone to leave and I just looked at him. He started to cry which made me cry and said he couldn’t watch me go through any more pain only to end up in an emergency situation. I was so tired and afraid of you being hurt. I opted for the C-section.
We called everyone back in the room and they told us how things would work. At that moment, I really wanted to make sure I saw my parents before the operation and kept asking your dad if they were there yet. When they finally arrived, he let them in and I started to cry and said I just couldn’t do it anymore, that I needed to get you out. Your pop-pop told me not to cry and held my hand and kissed it. I was still holding the Grace rock. Your nana told me not to worry.
Then it seemed like we were waiting for hours. An earlier C-section was finishing up and the doctor preferred to wait until the main operating room was open instead of using the emergency back up. A woman scheduled to have a C with twins was bumped for me, and I felt guilty.
Then it was time. Your dad needed to stay in the room and change into scrubs while I was wheeled into the OR. It was then that I realized I was having an operation. I was staring at the bright white lights on the ceiling, and it felt like I was in a movie. The doctors administered my second epidural and did a number of tests. I was paranoid about feeling the cut and kept telling them, “I feel that” for every little twinge. They assured me that it was normal. They covered my belly with an antiseptic and then brought your dad in. He looked cute in scrubs, but I could barely listen to him talking because I was so scared.
He held my hand and stroked my hair. I forgot to tell the doctors that I wanted to hear what was going on, and they were so many people talking it sounded like everything was an emergency. It didn’t hurt, but I just felt a lot of pressure and discomfort. Then they told me that I would feel a LOT of pressure when they took you out. It felt like ten people were leaning on my stomach, and I may have cried. And then your dad and I thought we heard a cry.
The anesthesiologist told us he could see and said that we had a healthy baby. We asked if you were a boy or girl, but he couldn’t see so it was a few seconds before he declared, “it’s a girl!” Your dad and I laughed in shock because we were so sure that you would be a boy. And then we both started to cry. Your dad looked at you and he tearily told me that you were beautiful. I had my glasses on, but all I could see was your big shock of hair and squirming limbs. It old your dad to take a picture and show it to me and cried when I saw you. The doctors let him bring you over to me and I saw your big eyes, and he held us cheek to cheek. More tears. I didn’t want to let you go.
You were 9 lbs, 2 oz and 21.5 inches long, born at 11:47 am. The nurses had to take you to the nursery while I was getting sewn up. Your dad stayed with me for a bit before going to be with you. Under the lights, I got the post-epidural shakes and went through four warming blankets. I shook so badly that I needed to hold the sides of the table. I was exhausted, but channeling Lifetime movies and afraid that I might die and leave your father a widow with a new newborn if I closed my eyes, so I willed myself awake.
My stitches were in, and then I was sluggishly transferred back to my bed and wheeled back to the birthing room. Your dad, Ananda and your grandparents wheeled you in shortly after. We tried to nurse immediately and I felt your skin on mine for the first time and watched you root around, amazed that you knew what to do.
And then our adventure began.
Love,
Mommy
Friday, July 03, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Still Here
Still hanging out. Z is still up there. We will find out on Monday if I've made any progress.
Words I hope I never hear again for a while: nipple stimulation, cervical ripening, etc.
Plus side: one more weekend to do absolutely nothing.
Words I hope I never hear again for a while: nipple stimulation, cervical ripening, etc.
Plus side: one more weekend to do absolutely nothing.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Recently Read and Watched
Read
1. Dear American Airlines by Jonathan Miles -- I first heard about this book on NPR last year and immediately loved the concept of being inspired to write a novel while waiting at O'Hare Airport, where you ALWAYS end up delayed. It was a quick read, but great. I liked the main character even though he reminded me a little too much of drunken, sobbing poets I know. It's funny how you can love a character, but be less enamored by the real-life translation.
2. Writer Mama: How to Raise A Writing Career Alongside Your Kids by Christina Katz: Another quick read. It's much more suited to women who don't have other full-time work, but there were a lot of good tips on query letters and figuring out your target markets. I'm in the middle of that excercise right now, so it was helpful.
In other news, I got another rejection letter. But again, it was a personalized rejection. Woo hoo?
3. The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski: Oh, boy, did I love this book. Almost 600 pages and I finished in a couple of nights. It was the "it" book last year, and I didn't think I'd like it because really, 600 pages about dogs? I don't even like dogs that much. But the writing is so beautiful and vivid, and the dogs as characters are so interesting and intense. I knew it was a take on Hamlet, but I still gasped and cried a little at each plot twist. Highly recommended.
Watched
1. Rescue Me is back on. I think this may be my favorite show on t.v. Is Denis Leary a dick? Yes. Do I care? No.
2. We went to see the new Star Trek last weekend. This was YG's doing. He never wins in the "what should we see?" debates, so I indulged him and it was actually really good. Good story and plot. Attractive people do not hurt either.
3. I've been ordering My So-Called Life on Netflix. I remember the season this show came on. It was my freshman year of college and we would watch it in the room I shared with Steph in Lawrinson. NN and I were obsessed with it, and I still have letters from our first summer home, with quotes from the show scattered across the envelopes and margins. It holds up over time. I am still Angela Chase.
I am expecting a lot of Netflix time over the next few months.
1. Dear American Airlines by Jonathan Miles -- I first heard about this book on NPR last year and immediately loved the concept of being inspired to write a novel while waiting at O'Hare Airport, where you ALWAYS end up delayed. It was a quick read, but great. I liked the main character even though he reminded me a little too much of drunken, sobbing poets I know. It's funny how you can love a character, but be less enamored by the real-life translation.
2. Writer Mama: How to Raise A Writing Career Alongside Your Kids by Christina Katz: Another quick read. It's much more suited to women who don't have other full-time work, but there were a lot of good tips on query letters and figuring out your target markets. I'm in the middle of that excercise right now, so it was helpful.
In other news, I got another rejection letter. But again, it was a personalized rejection. Woo hoo?
3. The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski: Oh, boy, did I love this book. Almost 600 pages and I finished in a couple of nights. It was the "it" book last year, and I didn't think I'd like it because really, 600 pages about dogs? I don't even like dogs that much. But the writing is so beautiful and vivid, and the dogs as characters are so interesting and intense. I knew it was a take on Hamlet, but I still gasped and cried a little at each plot twist. Highly recommended.
Watched
1. Rescue Me is back on. I think this may be my favorite show on t.v. Is Denis Leary a dick? Yes. Do I care? No.
2. We went to see the new Star Trek last weekend. This was YG's doing. He never wins in the "what should we see?" debates, so I indulged him and it was actually really good. Good story and plot. Attractive people do not hurt either.
3. I've been ordering My So-Called Life on Netflix. I remember the season this show came on. It was my freshman year of college and we would watch it in the room I shared with Steph in Lawrinson. NN and I were obsessed with it, and I still have letters from our first summer home, with quotes from the show scattered across the envelopes and margins. It holds up over time. I am still Angela Chase.
I am expecting a lot of Netflix time over the next few months.
This Is What Zygote's Due Date Looks Like
So, the chances of me having this kid anytime today are probably slim to none. S/he hasn’t even started descending yet, and there’s basically nothing going on. My doctor couldn't even feel my cervix to check progress without some major discomfort (read: hand in my vag), and she couldn't feel the head after. The good news was that Zygote seemed super happy on the heartrate monitor and is still healthy.
My doc still had some concerns about the size of this kids, given that we're probably looking at another week. She wanted me to go get an ultrasound to get a read on the size and said that if we were looking at an 11 lb. kid still, she wanted to at least discuss the possibility of a scheduled C. This did not make me happy. She said that, at my size, she definitely thinks I am capable of birthing a 10 lb kid, but she wanted better data.
We went over to the ultrasound place, on the other side of the city in Brookline, in a shit ton of traffic. Grumble. Brookline is my personal hell -- I always get lost and there's never enough parking. I called my doula on the way over, and she was great in calming me down and telling me that the ultrasound would probably put me more at ease and then I could examine my options regarding inductions, Cs, etc. She's also sending me a bunch of information about birthing big babies, and I will follow her advice, spending the next few days getting it on and feeling my tits.
I had two different doctors measure me, and the average size they came out with was 9lbs, 10 oz. give or take approx 20 oz. Take please.
When I left my regular doc's office this morning, our plan was to try and let things happen naturally this week, and recheck at my appointment next Monday. If I haven’t delivered by then or shown any progress, we would schedule an induction or the C-section (depending on ultrasound results), most likely for the middle of next week. I talked to the doula and said I was okay with the idea of induction, and she agreed that it would be the next logical step if that's where we ended up.
The doc called this evening to discuss the results. I told her that I don't want to schedule a C. I don't think it's necessary and it's too early to make that call. If I end up needing one, that's fine, but I want to try to labor. Also, it's a major operation, so if I can avoid that, I want to. She agreed that this was the best course of action and reiterated that she thinks I'm capable of delivering a 10 lber.
So there you have it.
Two conflicting thoughts I have had all day (or, this is the crazy that is my brain):
1. Upon hearing that someone of "my size" is capable of delivering a 10 lb baby: Normal people can't do this, but you, lard ass, totally can. The ultrasound doctor even said, "You're a big girl. You can do this." Note that I never read "big" as strong, healthy, capable.
2. Upon hearing that having a 10lb baby means I will be dropping a full third of the weight I gained in the hospital and "you are all baby. You may even end up losing weight after this": ooooooh.....oooooohhhh.....Stop thinking about your weight. Start thinking about your kid. But, oooohhh.
Full frontal shot:
Friday, May 29, 2009
Fugitive from The Garden State
I always thought there might be something romantic about being a fugitive. But as with many things in my life, I did not know I was actually something until after it occurred.
Scene One: The Watertown, MA Registry of Motor Vehicles
I enter the mall (by the way, who puts a RMV in the mall?) around 9:40 a.m. intending to update my license with my not-so-new last name. I read the hours on the website wrong and the RMV doesn't actually open until 10. The line is already out the door, and I end up behind a guy who is bitching non-stop about having to wait and how the RMV takes too long and blah, blah, blah, his tax dollars at work. Around this time, I realize that I forgot both my book and my magazine so I either have to go zen or actually engage with this idiot. I turn inward and start counting the ceiling tiles, and then playing with my Blackberry. I actually work and send a few emails. Twenty minutes pass, the gate goes up, and the line starts moving. Twenty five minutes later, and I'm handed my paperwork to fill out.
The place is ridiculously crowded and I pace the aisles hoping that somebody will give the pregnant lady a seat. Nobody makes eye contact. A seat opens up, and a teenage boy and I both lunge for it. He plops down, but his mother comes by, whacks him and makes him get up. I journal a little about the crazy in my head, get bored, and engage in a few rigorous rounds of Brickbreaker. My number, B235, gets called.
The kid processing me is a newbie. It's his first day of work, and he's making a lot of mistakes. He also doesn't quite get the difference between my original last name and my new pretentious, hyphenated last name. We go back and forth multiple times, but I finally hand over my Social Security Card and just tell him to copy it. I should be annoyed, but he's a sweet kid. I say I didn't want a new picture because of how "fat" I was now, and he goes out of his way to tell me how cute I am and how I don't look different at all from the neck up. He takes the card and my license and puts the license in a "to be destroyed" pile.
We're almost finished and the kid says, "Um, I'm sorry, but I can't update your MA license because of your, um,....'trouble' in NJ." I ask what trouble. He tells me the 'trouble' from May 2007. I tell him that I have lived in Mass since June 2006 and ask him to double check the social security number. He calls a supervisor. She checks and tells me that I have an outstanding conviction and possibly an outstanding warrant for my arrest in NJ. What for? They can't tell. They feel bad for me because I am horrendously pregnant and sweaty, so they say they'll call, but the number for the NJ DMV has a 45 minute wait. They apologize and tell me they can't wait that long, and that if I get it resolved, they'll be more than happy to process my license change.
I don't freak out. I just ask for my license back, so that I can drive home. "Um, well, in situations like this, we're actually supposed to keep your license." And, the kid adds, "I think I'm supposed to report you to the police." Again, I do not freak out. I tell them that my due date is Tuesday and that I'm probably not a flight risk and that I have never even gotten a speeding ticket in my life, and could they please help me out because I am about to have a baby and I need some photo ID for the hospital and need to be able to drive? They agree. When they turn around to find my license in "to be destroyed pile," they realize that the licenses have been moved, presumably to the place where they are to be destroyed. The kid runs into another room, and after several moments of more ceiling-tile counting and avoiding pitying stares from strangers, he comes back. "Got it!" He hands it over, and everyone tells me to have a good day and to come back when I have my 'trouble' taken care of. I am convinced that they're only being this nice to me because I am quite literally waddling.
Scene Two: Comfort Feeding
I go into the convenience store next door, buy a king size Hershey bar and a package of Parmesan goldfish, and eat them all in the 10 minute drive back home. YG is on a conference call and gives me the thumbs up. I motion BIG thumbs down.
Scene Three: Please Wait for The Next Available Representative
I call the NJ DMV. I'm on hold for 42 minutes. There is muzak interrupted every few minutes by a voice recording telling me that they are very sorry for the wait and I will be handled by the next available representative. This bothers me more than actually holding. Many loud sighs follow.
I get through to a woman that tells me that yes, I have a warrant out for my arrest in NJ because I never told my insurance company that I moved out of state (I just let the policy lapse when I got a new one up here) and I never turned in my old plates. She says that they sent me notifications 5 times, but they were returned to sender. I asked where they sent them. To my old NJ address, of course. She then tells me that I'll have to talk to the uninsured motorists division, but that I'll probably have to pay a fine of several hundred dollars to rectify this. She, is, to put it mildly, unfriendly. I am reminded that I sometimes DON'T miss home.
I wait on hold again for 25 minutes to talk to the uninsured motorists division. I have a conference call for work that I need to be on and try to figure out a way to explain what I'm doing instead. I send a short email. I wonder if my coworkers think that I am either prone to general unluckiness or just a big exaggerator. I put this latest story in the context of other ridiculous events that have kept me from work and think it's the latter. There was: The Time I Locked Myself Out of The House With Everything Inside, The Time I Had An Allergic Reaction to My Own Skin And Had to Spend A Week Slathered In A Vaseline-like Substance, The Time I Sprained My Chest Wall and Couldn't Get Out of Bed, and so on. I wonder how I still have a job.
I finally get through to a woman named Lisa Ann who is gruff, but tells me exactly what I need to do. I miss home. Basically, I have to fax in proof that I registered the car elsewhere prior to May 2007, along with current license and registration, to waive the fine and remove the warrant. I am a pack rack, so my registration from December 2006 is quickly located in the black hole of junk otherwise known as my glove compartment. I have 40 minutes before my rescheduled conference call to get up to the business center at Staples to print out my intention to destroy my NJ plates, make copies of the registration and fax it all to Lisa Ann.
Scene Four: Which of Dante's Layers Is This?
I waddle as quickly as I can, and am confronted by a line much like the DMV. It must be Senior Citizens' Day at Staples, because a number of Biblical-era aged folks are milling around waiting to make copies and scanning old photographs. Nobody knows how to use any of the "self-service" machines. My zen from earlier is starting to wane, and I roll my eyes and sigh. A lot. I feel bad, but can't help myself. I finally get access to a copier. Out of paper. I wait again. I wait for the one employee to print out the letter saved on my USB stick, but he has to help a man printing out fliers, and all shades of yellow paper are not sufficiently yellow enough. Finally, I am ready to fax. Another line. Busy signals. General annoyance.
Finally, it is over. I have five minutes to get home and get on the phone. I race out of there, and am turning the key in the ignition when I realize that I left my current license and registration on the copy machine. More waddling, and then finally I am home, and on the phone, trying to explain my lawless state.
Scene Five: Redemption
Lisa Ann calls an hour later to tell me that I am cleared and that everything will be dropped from my record. I thank her profusely. I sit and think of all the times that I could have been carted off to jail in the past two years -- all the times that I ran the red light on Fairchild, all the times I sped on the Parkway, all the times I parked illegally, all the times I forgot my EZPass and went through the lane anyway. I wonder how I managed to stay so hidden. I am a relatively easy person to find.
I finally get around to laughing about it. Then I remember that I still need to go back to the RMV.
Scene One: The Watertown, MA Registry of Motor Vehicles
I enter the mall (by the way, who puts a RMV in the mall?) around 9:40 a.m. intending to update my license with my not-so-new last name. I read the hours on the website wrong and the RMV doesn't actually open until 10. The line is already out the door, and I end up behind a guy who is bitching non-stop about having to wait and how the RMV takes too long and blah, blah, blah, his tax dollars at work. Around this time, I realize that I forgot both my book and my magazine so I either have to go zen or actually engage with this idiot. I turn inward and start counting the ceiling tiles, and then playing with my Blackberry. I actually work and send a few emails. Twenty minutes pass, the gate goes up, and the line starts moving. Twenty five minutes later, and I'm handed my paperwork to fill out.
The place is ridiculously crowded and I pace the aisles hoping that somebody will give the pregnant lady a seat. Nobody makes eye contact. A seat opens up, and a teenage boy and I both lunge for it. He plops down, but his mother comes by, whacks him and makes him get up. I journal a little about the crazy in my head, get bored, and engage in a few rigorous rounds of Brickbreaker. My number, B235, gets called.
The kid processing me is a newbie. It's his first day of work, and he's making a lot of mistakes. He also doesn't quite get the difference between my original last name and my new pretentious, hyphenated last name. We go back and forth multiple times, but I finally hand over my Social Security Card and just tell him to copy it. I should be annoyed, but he's a sweet kid. I say I didn't want a new picture because of how "fat" I was now, and he goes out of his way to tell me how cute I am and how I don't look different at all from the neck up. He takes the card and my license and puts the license in a "to be destroyed" pile.
We're almost finished and the kid says, "Um, I'm sorry, but I can't update your MA license because of your, um,....'trouble' in NJ." I ask what trouble. He tells me the 'trouble' from May 2007. I tell him that I have lived in Mass since June 2006 and ask him to double check the social security number. He calls a supervisor. She checks and tells me that I have an outstanding conviction and possibly an outstanding warrant for my arrest in NJ. What for? They can't tell. They feel bad for me because I am horrendously pregnant and sweaty, so they say they'll call, but the number for the NJ DMV has a 45 minute wait. They apologize and tell me they can't wait that long, and that if I get it resolved, they'll be more than happy to process my license change.
I don't freak out. I just ask for my license back, so that I can drive home. "Um, well, in situations like this, we're actually supposed to keep your license." And, the kid adds, "I think I'm supposed to report you to the police." Again, I do not freak out. I tell them that my due date is Tuesday and that I'm probably not a flight risk and that I have never even gotten a speeding ticket in my life, and could they please help me out because I am about to have a baby and I need some photo ID for the hospital and need to be able to drive? They agree. When they turn around to find my license in "to be destroyed pile," they realize that the licenses have been moved, presumably to the place where they are to be destroyed. The kid runs into another room, and after several moments of more ceiling-tile counting and avoiding pitying stares from strangers, he comes back. "Got it!" He hands it over, and everyone tells me to have a good day and to come back when I have my 'trouble' taken care of. I am convinced that they're only being this nice to me because I am quite literally waddling.
Scene Two: Comfort Feeding
I go into the convenience store next door, buy a king size Hershey bar and a package of Parmesan goldfish, and eat them all in the 10 minute drive back home. YG is on a conference call and gives me the thumbs up. I motion BIG thumbs down.
Scene Three: Please Wait for The Next Available Representative
I call the NJ DMV. I'm on hold for 42 minutes. There is muzak interrupted every few minutes by a voice recording telling me that they are very sorry for the wait and I will be handled by the next available representative. This bothers me more than actually holding. Many loud sighs follow.
I get through to a woman that tells me that yes, I have a warrant out for my arrest in NJ because I never told my insurance company that I moved out of state (I just let the policy lapse when I got a new one up here) and I never turned in my old plates. She says that they sent me notifications 5 times, but they were returned to sender. I asked where they sent them. To my old NJ address, of course. She then tells me that I'll have to talk to the uninsured motorists division, but that I'll probably have to pay a fine of several hundred dollars to rectify this. She, is, to put it mildly, unfriendly. I am reminded that I sometimes DON'T miss home.
I wait on hold again for 25 minutes to talk to the uninsured motorists division. I have a conference call for work that I need to be on and try to figure out a way to explain what I'm doing instead. I send a short email. I wonder if my coworkers think that I am either prone to general unluckiness or just a big exaggerator. I put this latest story in the context of other ridiculous events that have kept me from work and think it's the latter. There was: The Time I Locked Myself Out of The House With Everything Inside, The Time I Had An Allergic Reaction to My Own Skin And Had to Spend A Week Slathered In A Vaseline-like Substance, The Time I Sprained My Chest Wall and Couldn't Get Out of Bed, and so on. I wonder how I still have a job.
I finally get through to a woman named Lisa Ann who is gruff, but tells me exactly what I need to do. I miss home. Basically, I have to fax in proof that I registered the car elsewhere prior to May 2007, along with current license and registration, to waive the fine and remove the warrant. I am a pack rack, so my registration from December 2006 is quickly located in the black hole of junk otherwise known as my glove compartment. I have 40 minutes before my rescheduled conference call to get up to the business center at Staples to print out my intention to destroy my NJ plates, make copies of the registration and fax it all to Lisa Ann.
Scene Four: Which of Dante's Layers Is This?
I waddle as quickly as I can, and am confronted by a line much like the DMV. It must be Senior Citizens' Day at Staples, because a number of Biblical-era aged folks are milling around waiting to make copies and scanning old photographs. Nobody knows how to use any of the "self-service" machines. My zen from earlier is starting to wane, and I roll my eyes and sigh. A lot. I feel bad, but can't help myself. I finally get access to a copier. Out of paper. I wait again. I wait for the one employee to print out the letter saved on my USB stick, but he has to help a man printing out fliers, and all shades of yellow paper are not sufficiently yellow enough. Finally, I am ready to fax. Another line. Busy signals. General annoyance.
Finally, it is over. I have five minutes to get home and get on the phone. I race out of there, and am turning the key in the ignition when I realize that I left my current license and registration on the copy machine. More waddling, and then finally I am home, and on the phone, trying to explain my lawless state.
Scene Five: Redemption
Lisa Ann calls an hour later to tell me that I am cleared and that everything will be dropped from my record. I thank her profusely. I sit and think of all the times that I could have been carted off to jail in the past two years -- all the times that I ran the red light on Fairchild, all the times I sped on the Parkway, all the times I parked illegally, all the times I forgot my EZPass and went through the lane anyway. I wonder how I managed to stay so hidden. I am a relatively easy person to find.
I finally get around to laughing about it. Then I remember that I still need to go back to the RMV.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Fuck California
Yep, the sanctity of my holy union was definitely at risk while all those crazy mo's were out there getting married. YG and I were totally terrorized.
Feministing lead me to this link. While I'm angry, I did like the response from a local Gay and Lesbian Community Center:
I totally want to buy Zygote one of these, take a picture of your average boring white family and send it out to all the bigoted motherfuckers out there.
Feministing lead me to this link. While I'm angry, I did like the response from a local Gay and Lesbian Community Center:
"Today, our Supreme Court sent a mixed and troubling message. While upholding the legal marriages of the 18,000 same-sex couples who married in California, the ruling establishes that all Californians are NOT entitled to equal protection of the law. This is a sad day for our state and a setback for the cause of freedom and fairness.
But it's also important to keep this in perspective. Every noble struggle known to man or woman has been filled with losses--temporary defeats that people had to endure and overcome. We must pick ourselves up and move forward, knowing that justice ultimately will prevail and the right to marry will one day be ours forever.
Fortunately, this loss comes amidst a veritable tide of progress in many other state supreme courts and legislatures--a tide that cannot be turned back, no matter today's decision. Not only are courts and legislatures recognizing that it's wrong to discriminate against any group of people by denying them the fundamental freedom to marry the one they love, but now even a majority of Americans agree. Most people in the nation now believe that same-sex couples should be treated equally under the law.
That is enormous progress and we e cannot let one election, one court case, one defeat - or even many defeats - stop us. And we must not let such challenges limit our dreams. Those who came before us and who could never imagine our successes did not give up. We owe the same dedication to those who are yet to follow.
Most importantly, we cannot afford to lose sight of the bigger picture. Ours is not a fight simply for the freedom to marry. Ours is a fight for full equality; full equality and nothing less."
I totally want to buy Zygote one of these, take a picture of your average boring white family and send it out to all the bigoted motherfuckers out there.
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.
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.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Stream of Conscious Musings About How Uncomfortable I Am
It's hot. Very HOT. About 95 degrees yesterday and 90 today. My feet have swollen to unthinkable proportions where even flip flops are causing me to blister and chafe. I'm changing my underwear and bras three times a day because I am sweating so much. I am drinking gallons of water, but still out of breath. All the while, Zygote jumps up and down and wiggles and seems generally unaware that the world is on fucking fire. Maybe it's cool in there.
The Green Line almost killed me today. I had an appointment in Boston, and the walk to the T was brutal. At Park Street, people on their morning commutes jostled about and kept stepping on my feet. I started pushing back. The train was late, and I had to ask someone for a seat -- some fuckface in a suit that acted all put upon. No energy to muster up a "screw you." It moved at a snail's pace and I just felt like I was melting. For a second I wondered if my water broke, but no, just sweat. Ick. Ride back not much better.
Other random thoughts:
* I am too tired to want to do anything.
* I met my second celebrity in Cambridge yesterday. Jennifer Garner at The Gap in Harvard Square. She was very nice and bought her daughter a cute bathing suit.
* I have been keeping this blog for three years now. Three years in Massachusetts. Three years in my new city. Three years in my new job. Lots of changes in few years.
* I cannot formulate complete sentences.
* I cannot believe someone is going to let me take a baby home. I don't know what to do with babies.
* I would like to get some uninterrupted sleep.
* In my interupted sleep, I have been watching "My So Called Life" and remembering high school. I do not know if this is a good or bad thing.
* Nap time. Vacation days are apparently for napping now.
The Green Line almost killed me today. I had an appointment in Boston, and the walk to the T was brutal. At Park Street, people on their morning commutes jostled about and kept stepping on my feet. I started pushing back. The train was late, and I had to ask someone for a seat -- some fuckface in a suit that acted all put upon. No energy to muster up a "screw you." It moved at a snail's pace and I just felt like I was melting. For a second I wondered if my water broke, but no, just sweat. Ick. Ride back not much better.
Other random thoughts:
* I am too tired to want to do anything.
* I met my second celebrity in Cambridge yesterday. Jennifer Garner at The Gap in Harvard Square. She was very nice and bought her daughter a cute bathing suit.
* I have been keeping this blog for three years now. Three years in Massachusetts. Three years in my new city. Three years in my new job. Lots of changes in few years.
* I cannot formulate complete sentences.
* I cannot believe someone is going to let me take a baby home. I don't know what to do with babies.
* I would like to get some uninterrupted sleep.
* In my interupted sleep, I have been watching "My So Called Life" and remembering high school. I do not know if this is a good or bad thing.
* Nap time. Vacation days are apparently for napping now.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Updates and Projects
This insomnia thing really sucks the bag, man. If I'm not waking up for hours at a time in the middle of the night, I am wide awake at 5:30 a.m. every morning, raring to go. It's so weird. I would have loved this last week or the week before when I was struggling to get to the office on time, but now that I only need to roll over in my pajamas to get to work, it's sort of wasted.
A few updates:
1. No improvement in YG's hearing.
2. At 38 weeks, I am full term, but as of yesterday, the baby isn't going anywhere. I still have "some time."
My nesting projects or things I want to get done before Z comes:
1. Finish Zygote's room. Basically this entails covering the icky wallpaper border with new, kid-friendly border. Should be an easy project, but we are dealing with the dizzy guy and Jabba the Hut, so we'll see how that works out.
2. Renew my passport application. I have all the paperwork, but I need to get a different picture. The one I have screams, "I am 9 months pregnant. I have 3 chins and I wasn't particularly nice to the CVS lady that took this." I don't feel like staring at that for the next ten years.
3. 14 months after getting married, finally finish getting all my name-change paperwork done. I still need a new license.
4. Finish uploading our CDs to the new Mac. Remember this time that if you are going to do something like upload 10,000 songs that backing it up is probably a good idea.
5. Finish developing my matrix of publications to send my stuff to. I've been sending stories to the same three publications with nothing going. I'm sure there is somebody out there that finds me brilliant. I just have to make the time to find them.
And finish closing out shit at work.
A few updates:
1. No improvement in YG's hearing.
2. At 38 weeks, I am full term, but as of yesterday, the baby isn't going anywhere. I still have "some time."
My nesting projects or things I want to get done before Z comes:
1. Finish Zygote's room. Basically this entails covering the icky wallpaper border with new, kid-friendly border. Should be an easy project, but we are dealing with the dizzy guy and Jabba the Hut, so we'll see how that works out.
2. Renew my passport application. I have all the paperwork, but I need to get a different picture. The one I have screams, "I am 9 months pregnant. I have 3 chins and I wasn't particularly nice to the CVS lady that took this." I don't feel like staring at that for the next ten years.
3. 14 months after getting married, finally finish getting all my name-change paperwork done. I still need a new license.
4. Finish uploading our CDs to the new Mac. Remember this time that if you are going to do something like upload 10,000 songs that backing it up is probably a good idea.
5. Finish developing my matrix of publications to send my stuff to. I've been sending stories to the same three publications with nothing going. I'm sure there is somebody out there that finds me brilliant. I just have to make the time to find them.
And finish closing out shit at work.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Get Out of Jail Free
Today was my last day in the office until I return from maternity leave. I will be working from home until Zygote is born, but my commute can now suck it. Sweatpants, t-shirts, and flip flops and helping YG recover all sound a-okay to me.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
What I'm Reading
The only benefit of frequent insomnia and hours in hospital waiting rooms is that you get to catch up on reading. Some recent reads:
1. The Best American Essays 2008: Kind of a snore. My last writing teacher suggested I read more essays since that seems to be my genre of choice, but I didn't particularly enjoy the whole collection. I found the one on end-of-life healthcare fascinating and loved the one on lesbian weddings. The fact that I can't remember many of the other ones leads me to question the "best" title.
2. Fortress of Solitude by Jonathan Lethem: LOVED it. I read Motherless Brooklyn a few years ago when everyone was Lethem crazy, and I just didn't get it. I found it boring. I approached this one thinking I'd feel the same way, but it feels so different. It's gorgeous and passionate and heartbreaking at the same time.
3. Waiting for Daisy: A Tale of Two Continents, Three Religions, Five Infertility Doctors, an Oscar, an Atomic Bomb, a Romantic Night, and One Woman's Quest to Become a Mother by Peggy Orenstein: I have devoured everything Peggy Orenstein has ever written and look forward to essays that she writes. Interestingly enough, she was researchingFlux, one of my favorite non-fiction books in recent years, while going through the infertility treatments detailed in this book. It's very personal, but also offers insight into the infertility business. Quick read too. I've had it on my shelf for years -- bought it at City Lights the first time I went to San Francisco a few years ago.
4. Opting In: Having A Child Without Losing Yourself by Amy Richards: Appropriate timing, I guess. It wasn't an academic read and covers a lot of ground, but I don't feel like I learned much new. I did enjoy the chapters on the work/stay-at-home debate and how that needs to be larger, and also liked that she covered the changing nature of female relationships after baby comes. I'm hoping to still have a life post-baby and also hoping to maintain my relationships with people who have chosen not to have kids. I know how fucking boring it is to listen to endless kid stories when you have none of your own, or even when you do -- I don't want to subject anyone to that. Again, she didn't cover too many tips, but I liked that it was a topic.
And now, I'm in the middle of Operating Instructions which is exactly as awesome as I expected it to be.
1. The Best American Essays 2008: Kind of a snore. My last writing teacher suggested I read more essays since that seems to be my genre of choice, but I didn't particularly enjoy the whole collection. I found the one on end-of-life healthcare fascinating and loved the one on lesbian weddings. The fact that I can't remember many of the other ones leads me to question the "best" title.
2. Fortress of Solitude by Jonathan Lethem: LOVED it. I read Motherless Brooklyn a few years ago when everyone was Lethem crazy, and I just didn't get it. I found it boring. I approached this one thinking I'd feel the same way, but it feels so different. It's gorgeous and passionate and heartbreaking at the same time.
3. Waiting for Daisy: A Tale of Two Continents, Three Religions, Five Infertility Doctors, an Oscar, an Atomic Bomb, a Romantic Night, and One Woman's Quest to Become a Mother by Peggy Orenstein: I have devoured everything Peggy Orenstein has ever written and look forward to essays that she writes. Interestingly enough, she was researchingFlux, one of my favorite non-fiction books in recent years, while going through the infertility treatments detailed in this book. It's very personal, but also offers insight into the infertility business. Quick read too. I've had it on my shelf for years -- bought it at City Lights the first time I went to San Francisco a few years ago.
4. Opting In: Having A Child Without Losing Yourself by Amy Richards: Appropriate timing, I guess. It wasn't an academic read and covers a lot of ground, but I don't feel like I learned much new. I did enjoy the chapters on the work/stay-at-home debate and how that needs to be larger, and also liked that she covered the changing nature of female relationships after baby comes. I'm hoping to still have a life post-baby and also hoping to maintain my relationships with people who have chosen not to have kids. I know how fucking boring it is to listen to endless kid stories when you have none of your own, or even when you do -- I don't want to subject anyone to that. Again, she didn't cover too many tips, but I liked that it was a topic.
And now, I'm in the middle of Operating Instructions which is exactly as awesome as I expected it to be.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The Last Couple of Days: Serious Suck
Exhausted and reeling and over being scared, but not quite over being freaked out.
Saturday, May 9
MG’s 10th birthday. We have a great day and drop her off at her mother’s house. We decide to use a few leftover gift certificates to go out for a nice, adult dinner since we’re not sure how many of those we have left before Zygote comes. We leave the zip code. We actually leave Cambridge, which never happens. We go to Ivy and have some awesome antipasto and pork and risotto balls filled with prosciutto. YG drinks red wine, but mentions that he’s been dizzy and that his ear is ringing. We play Dr. Google once we get home and figure that he just has an ear infection.
I am having major Braxton-Hicks contractions on and off. We wonder if the baby will come early.
Sunday, May 10
Mother’s Day. We go to church and then drive out to Concord to meet YG’s family for lunch. I eat my weight in pasta and we have a nice time chatting with everyone. YG mentions the dizziness and that his ear hurts. His sister reassures him that it’s probably just an infection, leftover from a cold. His sister’s fiancé says, “or it could be like my aunt(?) who thought she had an ear infection and it turned out to be a tumor.” We all laugh.
Sunday Night
I cannot sleep. At all. Zygote has me up all night now. YG also can’t sleep. He feels like shit and is tossing and turning too. I get up around 3 and watch Superbad in its entirety.
Monday, May 11
YG wakes up and tells me that he cannot hear, at all, in his left ear. He’s freaked out. I’m freaked out. We call Harvard Vanguard Urgent Care up the street, but they won’t let him come in because his primary care physician isn’t located there. He finally gets an appointment with his doctor out in Acton. The doc couldn't figure out what was wrong, so he was shuttled around to different specialists and they found absolutely NOTHING and basically told him that there is some study going on a Mass Eye and Ear for early hearing loss, and that he should sign up as a candidate for that because they can't find anything. They tell him to either go there, or to come back tomorrow. How does someone just immediately lose their hearing?
YG calls me at work and asks if I can come home. YG NEVER asks me to come home, so I dump everything and head out. I can’t stop thinking about that comment about thinking one has an ear infection that turns out to be a tumor.
At home, we finally get through to the woman running the Mass Eye and Ear study and she says that he needs to get to the emergency room immediately and get started on treatment.
We decide to go. Initially, we were going to take the T, but YG is dizzy and throwing up and I know I won’t be able to hold him up if he faints or falls. We decide to drive. The ride over was just fab. In rush hour. With him throwing up every five minutes in a bag. I wonder for a minute if the people at Old Navy and Gap know how useful their bags are for cleaning up cat shit and catching puke. I’m guessing no.
At MGH, we wait for a while among a gaggle of people wearing face masks and with bandaged eyes. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. When a woman comes out with a tube in a big, bloody nose, I almost gag. I end up calling the ECT to spare YG from having to deal with her. Of course, there is drama. She is panicked and freaking out, until I tell her that she needs to pick MG up from school and take her to the orthodontist because YG can’t drive and I want to stay with him. The tone changes. She hems and haws and says she’s not sure if she can do it. She’s busy. It’s an inconvenience. For her. Her ex-husband is half deaf and dizzy and puking, and his 37-weeks pregnant wife are sitting in the skeevy hospital waiting room, but I go overboard and tell her how grateful I am that she can help us out with this inconvenience. I think I am reserving my place in heaven.
We wait for about an hour and are finally seen. Apparently this hearing loss is very common.
The bottom line is that YG has been diagnosed with SSHL (Sudden Sensorineaural Healing Loss) which is apparently more common than we knew, especially in young men. Very strange with no real known causes. Studies have shown that it could be viral, but they are inconclusive. The doctors have him on a high dose of steroids (known to help restore hearing about 60% of the time within a few months). We’re told to come back the next morning.
I realize on the drive home that I’ve never driven over the Longfellow Bridge. We stop at CVS on the way home and pick up the prescription. I get a burrito at Qdoba and pick up some Gatorade for YG. We are frazzled and a bit weepy and watch Superbad again. YG pukes again.
YG goes to sleep. I toss and turn in the bed for two hours before going and reading for an hour. I’m so paranoid that I keep creeping back into the bedroom to put my hand on YG’s chest and make sure that he is still breathing. I allow myself to lose it a little. I silently beg Zygote to stay put for a while.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
We leave the house around 7:30 and head back to MGH. We take the T this time. YG pukes up a lemon-lime stream of Gatorade in the street, and a guy (somewhere in between friendly neighborhood dude and crazy) tells us to drink lime water and honey.
We make it to the hospital with no more puking and YG is a bit more steady on his feet.
YG takes a hearing test. I’m sitting in the room with him and he’s wearing head phones. The high pitched noises coming through the left ear are so loud that I can hear them and am uncomfortable, but he hears nothing. It freaks me out. The doctor tells us about the clinical study on SSHL and tells us that we’re in good shape because we did something early and that steroids are known to help.
We go back downstairs to the ER. We talk to a couple with a baby in the elevator. The baby is 9 days old. I didn’t imagine that I would be in a hospital for anything but baby stuff.
The ER doctors examine the test results and again tell us that SSHL is pretty common and they see numerous cases a WEEK. They remind us that some people get their hearing back and others don’t. They prescribe Ativan, of all things, for the dizziness. YG is going to see another specialist on Monday, and everyone wishes us well. I manage to ask the doctor, "how do you know it's not being caused by a tumor?" and he said that was highly unlikely given the symptoms YG was presenting, but that you never can be 100% certain.
We take the T back and are weepy again. We’re early for my doctor’s appointment in Davis, so we stop at the daycare center and watch all the toddlers for a little. We listen to our kicky baby at my appointment, and then head home.
YG eats his first real meal in two days and we both try to work on our laptops. We take a nap. We go out for a walk. We’re trying to be normal. We need to call our families and tell them.
What a mind fuck.
Saturday, May 9
MG’s 10th birthday. We have a great day and drop her off at her mother’s house. We decide to use a few leftover gift certificates to go out for a nice, adult dinner since we’re not sure how many of those we have left before Zygote comes. We leave the zip code. We actually leave Cambridge, which never happens. We go to Ivy and have some awesome antipasto and pork and risotto balls filled with prosciutto. YG drinks red wine, but mentions that he’s been dizzy and that his ear is ringing. We play Dr. Google once we get home and figure that he just has an ear infection.
I am having major Braxton-Hicks contractions on and off. We wonder if the baby will come early.
Sunday, May 10
Mother’s Day. We go to church and then drive out to Concord to meet YG’s family for lunch. I eat my weight in pasta and we have a nice time chatting with everyone. YG mentions the dizziness and that his ear hurts. His sister reassures him that it’s probably just an infection, leftover from a cold. His sister’s fiancé says, “or it could be like my aunt(?) who thought she had an ear infection and it turned out to be a tumor.” We all laugh.
Sunday Night
I cannot sleep. At all. Zygote has me up all night now. YG also can’t sleep. He feels like shit and is tossing and turning too. I get up around 3 and watch Superbad in its entirety.
Monday, May 11
YG wakes up and tells me that he cannot hear, at all, in his left ear. He’s freaked out. I’m freaked out. We call Harvard Vanguard Urgent Care up the street, but they won’t let him come in because his primary care physician isn’t located there. He finally gets an appointment with his doctor out in Acton. The doc couldn't figure out what was wrong, so he was shuttled around to different specialists and they found absolutely NOTHING and basically told him that there is some study going on a Mass Eye and Ear for early hearing loss, and that he should sign up as a candidate for that because they can't find anything. They tell him to either go there, or to come back tomorrow. How does someone just immediately lose their hearing?
YG calls me at work and asks if I can come home. YG NEVER asks me to come home, so I dump everything and head out. I can’t stop thinking about that comment about thinking one has an ear infection that turns out to be a tumor.
At home, we finally get through to the woman running the Mass Eye and Ear study and she says that he needs to get to the emergency room immediately and get started on treatment.
We decide to go. Initially, we were going to take the T, but YG is dizzy and throwing up and I know I won’t be able to hold him up if he faints or falls. We decide to drive. The ride over was just fab. In rush hour. With him throwing up every five minutes in a bag. I wonder for a minute if the people at Old Navy and Gap know how useful their bags are for cleaning up cat shit and catching puke. I’m guessing no.
At MGH, we wait for a while among a gaggle of people wearing face masks and with bandaged eyes. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. When a woman comes out with a tube in a big, bloody nose, I almost gag. I end up calling the ECT to spare YG from having to deal with her. Of course, there is drama. She is panicked and freaking out, until I tell her that she needs to pick MG up from school and take her to the orthodontist because YG can’t drive and I want to stay with him. The tone changes. She hems and haws and says she’s not sure if she can do it. She’s busy. It’s an inconvenience. For her. Her ex-husband is half deaf and dizzy and puking, and his 37-weeks pregnant wife are sitting in the skeevy hospital waiting room, but I go overboard and tell her how grateful I am that she can help us out with this inconvenience. I think I am reserving my place in heaven.
We wait for about an hour and are finally seen. Apparently this hearing loss is very common.
The bottom line is that YG has been diagnosed with SSHL (Sudden Sensorineaural Healing Loss) which is apparently more common than we knew, especially in young men. Very strange with no real known causes. Studies have shown that it could be viral, but they are inconclusive. The doctors have him on a high dose of steroids (known to help restore hearing about 60% of the time within a few months). We’re told to come back the next morning.
I realize on the drive home that I’ve never driven over the Longfellow Bridge. We stop at CVS on the way home and pick up the prescription. I get a burrito at Qdoba and pick up some Gatorade for YG. We are frazzled and a bit weepy and watch Superbad again. YG pukes again.
YG goes to sleep. I toss and turn in the bed for two hours before going and reading for an hour. I’m so paranoid that I keep creeping back into the bedroom to put my hand on YG’s chest and make sure that he is still breathing. I allow myself to lose it a little. I silently beg Zygote to stay put for a while.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
We leave the house around 7:30 and head back to MGH. We take the T this time. YG pukes up a lemon-lime stream of Gatorade in the street, and a guy (somewhere in between friendly neighborhood dude and crazy) tells us to drink lime water and honey.
We make it to the hospital with no more puking and YG is a bit more steady on his feet.
YG takes a hearing test. I’m sitting in the room with him and he’s wearing head phones. The high pitched noises coming through the left ear are so loud that I can hear them and am uncomfortable, but he hears nothing. It freaks me out. The doctor tells us about the clinical study on SSHL and tells us that we’re in good shape because we did something early and that steroids are known to help.
We go back downstairs to the ER. We talk to a couple with a baby in the elevator. The baby is 9 days old. I didn’t imagine that I would be in a hospital for anything but baby stuff.
The ER doctors examine the test results and again tell us that SSHL is pretty common and they see numerous cases a WEEK. They remind us that some people get their hearing back and others don’t. They prescribe Ativan, of all things, for the dizziness. YG is going to see another specialist on Monday, and everyone wishes us well. I manage to ask the doctor, "how do you know it's not being caused by a tumor?" and he said that was highly unlikely given the symptoms YG was presenting, but that you never can be 100% certain.
We take the T back and are weepy again. We’re early for my doctor’s appointment in Davis, so we stop at the daycare center and watch all the toddlers for a little. We listen to our kicky baby at my appointment, and then head home.
YG eats his first real meal in two days and we both try to work on our laptops. We take a nap. We go out for a walk. We’re trying to be normal. We need to call our families and tell them.
What a mind fuck.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
TEN
Today is the MG's tenth birthday. Ten! I can hardly believe it. When I first met her, she was six and we were in the lobby of a hotel in New York City. YG had taken her there as a present for her impending seventh birthday. She immediately grabbed my hand and asked me to take her to the bathroom. We then went and played on the swings in Central Park and had scones at Alice's Teacup. Two months later, I moved to Massachusetts.
The following year, we went to Cancun. And last year, we celebrated at the bowling alley with her mom, her mom's boyfriend and some friends after YG and I got back from France on our honeymoon. This year, we decided not to do a party. We're taking her on a day trip next weekend, and last night we celebrated with some cupcakes from Kick Ass and steak at Frank's. Today, we went bowling again, this time in Cambridge, because I am too sweaty and unwieldy to really go anyplace else.
She's a great kid. Considering the massive upheaval in her life over the last couple of years, it's amazing she's so well-adjusted. I remember nine and ten. They were the beginning of the suck -- of mean girls and insecurity and raging hormones -- and I remember what an asshole I was to everyone around me. So far, she isn't like that. My birthday wish for her is that she escapes the next decade with as little bruising and scraping as possible, and that she stays happy.
The following year, we went to Cancun. And last year, we celebrated at the bowling alley with her mom, her mom's boyfriend and some friends after YG and I got back from France on our honeymoon. This year, we decided not to do a party. We're taking her on a day trip next weekend, and last night we celebrated with some cupcakes from Kick Ass and steak at Frank's. Today, we went bowling again, this time in Cambridge, because I am too sweaty and unwieldy to really go anyplace else.
She's a great kid. Considering the massive upheaval in her life over the last couple of years, it's amazing she's so well-adjusted. I remember nine and ten. They were the beginning of the suck -- of mean girls and insecurity and raging hormones -- and I remember what an asshole I was to everyone around me. So far, she isn't like that. My birthday wish for her is that she escapes the next decade with as little bruising and scraping as possible, and that she stays happy.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Maternity Leave and Things I Want To Do
Approved!
I didn't get everything I wanted, but I did negotiate an extra 4 weeks leave unpaid and I am going back at a reduced work week of 32 hours. I'm happy with it, and looking forward to filling that extra day with Zygote and my writing.
In other news, I am sitting on my big, pregnant Orca-like ass, watching the Biggest Loser. These people just ran a marathon. I watch the runners outside every day, remembering last April and my first longer race, and I can't wait to get back out there. Can.not.wait.
I didn't get everything I wanted, but I did negotiate an extra 4 weeks leave unpaid and I am going back at a reduced work week of 32 hours. I'm happy with it, and looking forward to filling that extra day with Zygote and my writing.
In other news, I am sitting on my big, pregnant Orca-like ass, watching the Biggest Loser. These people just ran a marathon. I watch the runners outside every day, remembering last April and my first longer race, and I can't wait to get back out there. Can.not.wait.
In Today's "Are You Fucking Kidding Me?" News
Seriously?
I work in PR so nothing should ever surprise me, but the marketing of America and the marketing of women in particular never ceases to amaze.
I work in PR so nothing should ever surprise me, but the marketing of America and the marketing of women in particular never ceases to amaze.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Baked!
I think he or she is just putting on weight from here.
Nice weekend with a visit from my parents, a dinner at Rialto and an early birthday party for the MG.
Nice weekend with a visit from my parents, a dinner at Rialto and an early birthday party for the MG.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Fat Lard: The Pregnancy Edition
Remember fat lard in an ugly shirt? The pregnancy edition goes something like:
YG: Do you think you can roll over on your other side?
JM: Are you saying I'm fat? That you don't think I'm capable of rolling over onto my side?
YG: The childbirth lady said you should be on your left side.
JM: And you don't think I can do that because I am so fat.
YG: That's exactly what I said.
JM: I am like Orca.
YG: I was thinking more like a manatee.
JM: I can't be a manatee. Manatees are just nice and dumb, but they don't do much.
YG: You're right. You're like a great white.
JM: ???
YG: Feeding machine, with no emotions.
JM: Nice.
YG: (giggle, giggle, giggle, makes sure to repeat joke multiple times so I can comment that he is, yes indeed, funny)
JM: I'm totally going to blog about this and tell everyone you called me fat.
I know that the first few weeks with a baby will likely suck, but god, I hope we keep our funny up.
YG: Do you think you can roll over on your other side?
JM: Are you saying I'm fat? That you don't think I'm capable of rolling over onto my side?
YG: The childbirth lady said you should be on your left side.
JM: And you don't think I can do that because I am so fat.
YG: That's exactly what I said.
JM: I am like Orca.
YG: I was thinking more like a manatee.
JM: I can't be a manatee. Manatees are just nice and dumb, but they don't do much.
YG: You're right. You're like a great white.
JM: ???
YG: Feeding machine, with no emotions.
JM: Nice.
YG: (giggle, giggle, giggle, makes sure to repeat joke multiple times so I can comment that he is, yes indeed, funny)
JM: I'm totally going to blog about this and tell everyone you called me fat.
I know that the first few weeks with a baby will likely suck, but god, I hope we keep our funny up.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Inexact Sciences
I keep hearing that determining how much a baby is going to weigh at birth is an inexact science, and I really, really, really hope to god that this is true because the phrase, "if it gets much larger than 10 lbs..." was not really one I was expecting. And frankly, it just makes me cross my legs.
I've been told for my last few visits that I am growing a "substantial" baby. Let's just hope that substantial means large and healthy and not like, a second grader.
I've been told for my last few visits that I am growing a "substantial" baby. Let's just hope that substantial means large and healthy and not like, a second grader.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Year One
Last year on April 26, YG and I got married. One year later, we spent the weekend in childbirth class. A far cry from a year ago when I was out running in the morning and he was enjoying his coffee at Diesel. We still made it back to The Marlowe and enjoyed some al fresco dining at Dante and a walk along the Charles. It wasn't Paris, but I can't imagine anywhere I'd rather be or anyone I'd rather be with.
Friday, April 24, 2009
It's Over
The fucking conference, that is. Now, I officially start to wind down and transition. Zygote is coming soon.
Things I Am Excited About:
* Nice weather this weekend
* Weekend childbirth class
* First Anniversary weekend pressies and surprises
Things In The Deep Dark Recesses of My Soul That I Probably Should Write About But Would Prefer To Repress
* Zygote is coming soon. I am going to be somebody's mom. Need to grow a pair quick.
* The Evil Cameltoe is making the MG miserable, and I will suppress the urge to .....everything.
* Zygote is coming soon. Mandatory pay cut. Economy in shambles. Our landlord is probably moving away next June. YIKES!
Things I Am Excited About:
* Nice weather this weekend
* Weekend childbirth class
* First Anniversary weekend pressies and surprises
Things In The Deep Dark Recesses of My Soul That I Probably Should Write About But Would Prefer To Repress
* Zygote is coming soon. I am going to be somebody's mom. Need to grow a pair quick.
* The Evil Cameltoe is making the MG miserable, and I will suppress the urge to .....everything.
* Zygote is coming soon. Mandatory pay cut. Economy in shambles. Our landlord is probably moving away next June. YIKES!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Behold: The iMac
We bought a new computer today so hopefully that means that posting will be a little less sporadic. I haven't had a Mac since the awesome PowerMac I bought in 1994 when I first got to college that I used mainly for typing and then really, really slow dial up when I thought the Internets were for browsing song lyrics. Our home PC died last Fall, and well, I've just been making do. How? I don't know. Especially when I've spent the last hour staring slack jawed at all of the awesomeness that is the iMac.
Recreating my iTunes library is going to suck. I had about 7000 songs and I backed up about 100 of those. But I've got the time and I am thrilled to have music back in our lives again. It's been a bit of a dry spell. I am so far removed from cool, I don't even know where to begin.
What else? The work conference from hell begins on Monday so if I can make it through this week, I'm in the clear for starting to think about my exit plan. Also negotiating my maternity leave. And just getting bigger and bigger. I had to take a nap today after a trip to the mall to buy the computer. I'm guessing this does not bode well for the next few weeks. But Zygote is still healthy and has successfully wedged his or her legs right under my ribcage in preparation for the eventual migration south.
Not much by way of an update, but shit, we've been BUSY.
Recreating my iTunes library is going to suck. I had about 7000 songs and I backed up about 100 of those. But I've got the time and I am thrilled to have music back in our lives again. It's been a bit of a dry spell. I am so far removed from cool, I don't even know where to begin.
What else? The work conference from hell begins on Monday so if I can make it through this week, I'm in the clear for starting to think about my exit plan. Also negotiating my maternity leave. And just getting bigger and bigger. I had to take a nap today after a trip to the mall to buy the computer. I'm guessing this does not bode well for the next few weeks. But Zygote is still healthy and has successfully wedged his or her legs right under my ribcage in preparation for the eventual migration south.
Not much by way of an update, but shit, we've been BUSY.
Friday, April 03, 2009
So Much For That Whole 40 Days Thing
Big surprise - I wasn't able to keep up with that idea. It's not that I haven't been grateful and/or happy. I've just been insanely busy. Work, baby, travel -- it feels like it's all piling up so writing, blogging, and marketing my shit has kind of taken a back seat. I feel guilty about this, but YG tells me not to stress about not taking another thing on right now.
So some good things:
* Only 8 weeks to go. Zygote is still growing and appears to be doing okay. Watching my belly undulate right now.
* In 3 weeks, work project from hell will be over.
* I went home to NJ last week, and my mom and aunt threw me a surprise shower. WE HAVE STUFF. Woo! And I got to see NN and BB for the first time in a while. Pictures to come.
* We hired a doula, and she seems pretty level-headed and normal.
* Our taxes didn't suck nearly as much as we thought they were.
* Greatest One Hit Wonders of the 80s.
* My writing class this semster was cancelled. I'm sad, but think it's for the best. It was unlikely that I'd be able to finish it, and I would have probably felt guilty about not being into it 100%.
* Spring!
* IOWA!
I, obviously, am having some sort of writing block, but hope to get back on schedule soon.
So some good things:
* Only 8 weeks to go. Zygote is still growing and appears to be doing okay. Watching my belly undulate right now.
* In 3 weeks, work project from hell will be over.
* I went home to NJ last week, and my mom and aunt threw me a surprise shower. WE HAVE STUFF. Woo! And I got to see NN and BB for the first time in a while. Pictures to come.
* We hired a doula, and she seems pretty level-headed and normal.
* Our taxes didn't suck nearly as much as we thought they were.
* Greatest One Hit Wonders of the 80s.
* My writing class this semster was cancelled. I'm sad, but think it's for the best. It was unlikely that I'd be able to finish it, and I would have probably felt guilty about not being into it 100%.
* Spring!
* IOWA!
I, obviously, am having some sort of writing block, but hope to get back on schedule soon.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Decision Making
I meant to post this yesterday, but I wanted to get to bed. We had a pretty good experience interviewing a doula last night. I've had mixed feelings about whether or not I want a doula. Everyone says that they are very valuable, but I couldn't imagine sharing this very personal experience with a stranger. YG had similar feelings.
I thought I wanted a natural childbirth with no drugs, but I wasn't really clear on the reasons. We watched The Business of Being Born and read Birthing From Within , and now I have a clearer understanding of why this is a good idea in theory, but I'm still not clear on why I'm committed to it. Is it crazy competitive parenting? Is it because I'm afraid of missing something? Am I afraid of being judged? I don't know.
YG said that he thinks the way I'm presenting this says something about my true feelings. I've told people that I wanted to try for a natural childbirth, but that I wouldn't feel bad if I had an epidural. I told this to him, my doctor, the doula, the nurse at the hospital, etc. I thought this was the truth, but he thinks (and I agree) that there's an element of fear there -- that I don't know if I want to commit to natural childbirth. And well, that IS TRUE. Honestly, I can't imagine getting a needle in my spine -- that sounds horrifying and terrifying. But I also can't understand pain so bad that I would deliberately choose to have a needle in my spine.
I have a lot of thinking to do. If I want to commit to doing this naturally, I think the doula will be able to help both YG and I get through it. But if I'm already thinking, in the back of my mind, that I might want the epidural at some point, then why spend the money? Why add this other person in? I have to write it all out.
Grateful that I have choices, though.
I thought I wanted a natural childbirth with no drugs, but I wasn't really clear on the reasons. We watched The Business of Being Born and read Birthing From Within , and now I have a clearer understanding of why this is a good idea in theory, but I'm still not clear on why I'm committed to it. Is it crazy competitive parenting? Is it because I'm afraid of missing something? Am I afraid of being judged? I don't know.
YG said that he thinks the way I'm presenting this says something about my true feelings. I've told people that I wanted to try for a natural childbirth, but that I wouldn't feel bad if I had an epidural. I told this to him, my doctor, the doula, the nurse at the hospital, etc. I thought this was the truth, but he thinks (and I agree) that there's an element of fear there -- that I don't know if I want to commit to natural childbirth. And well, that IS TRUE. Honestly, I can't imagine getting a needle in my spine -- that sounds horrifying and terrifying. But I also can't understand pain so bad that I would deliberately choose to have a needle in my spine.
I have a lot of thinking to do. If I want to commit to doing this naturally, I think the doula will be able to help both YG and I get through it. But if I'm already thinking, in the back of my mind, that I might want the epidural at some point, then why spend the money? Why add this other person in? I have to write it all out.
Grateful that I have choices, though.
A Good Night's Sleep
I'm at the point of being totally uncomfortable at night: getting up multiple times, rearranging pillows, tossing and turning. Add in sweatiness and bloody noses and it's all good times. I finally slept a bit last night, and it was so nice. I only woke up twice and I managed to be somewhat comfortable. Today, I felt relatively okay and somewhat alive at work. It's so hectic and crazy and I'm afraid that the other people on my team are picking up my slack, so I have my fingers crossed for a few more good nights.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Super Secret Birthday Weekend
Coming down off a fabulous weekend to celebrate YG's birthday. His actual birthday was a month ago, but we had business travel, NJ travel, and work shit to get to so no super secret birthday weekend until now. We started Super Secret Birthday Weekends a few years ago. He took me to San Francisco for my 30th, I took him to Vegas for his 40th, he took me to NYC for my 31st and 32nd birthdays, etc. It's fun to plan a trip entirely on your own, trying to create an itinerary that you know the other person will love.
This year, I knew we wouldn't be able to travel far and that we were trying to save money, so we stayed local. YG suspected this, but he wasn't entirely sure until we were in the car. We stopped first to pick up cupcakes at Kick Ass, and then I drove us over to The Hotel Marlowe, the hotel where we got married less than a year ago. They hooked us up with champagne and a room with a great view, only a few doors down from the one we stayed in during our wedding. The doormen were the same great guys and remembered us as the wedding "with all the people from New Jersey." :-)
We hung around the room for a while before heading over to Inman Oasis where I had scheduled a massage and hot tub soak for YG. I had my own prenatal massage, and about 5 minutes into that, I remembered that I don't particularly like massages. I stuck it out, though, and I'm glad. I feel so much better today. The belly cut out in the bed made me laugh, as did the gymnastics I needed to pull off to get myself OFF the table. They let me soak my feet in the community tub, and YG later joined me.
We went to Oleana for dinner, and nearly died from the fabulousness. The food was amazing. We had small plates and then shared delicious desserts -- a baked alaska with burnt coconut ice cream and a sesame almond tart with salted butter and caramel ice cream -- the ice cream flavor we've been searching for since Bertillon in Paris. It was amazing!
This morning, we cancelled the lunch reservations that I made and ordered room service and read magazines and just lounged around. We stopped for a tour of the Labor & Delivery ward on the way back home and then cooked dinner for the week.
Happy Birthday, YG! I'm grateful that I'm able to give you fun excursions like this.
This year, I knew we wouldn't be able to travel far and that we were trying to save money, so we stayed local. YG suspected this, but he wasn't entirely sure until we were in the car. We stopped first to pick up cupcakes at Kick Ass, and then I drove us over to The Hotel Marlowe, the hotel where we got married less than a year ago. They hooked us up with champagne and a room with a great view, only a few doors down from the one we stayed in during our wedding. The doormen were the same great guys and remembered us as the wedding "with all the people from New Jersey." :-)
We hung around the room for a while before heading over to Inman Oasis where I had scheduled a massage and hot tub soak for YG. I had my own prenatal massage, and about 5 minutes into that, I remembered that I don't particularly like massages. I stuck it out, though, and I'm glad. I feel so much better today. The belly cut out in the bed made me laugh, as did the gymnastics I needed to pull off to get myself OFF the table. They let me soak my feet in the community tub, and YG later joined me.
We went to Oleana for dinner, and nearly died from the fabulousness. The food was amazing. We had small plates and then shared delicious desserts -- a baked alaska with burnt coconut ice cream and a sesame almond tart with salted butter and caramel ice cream -- the ice cream flavor we've been searching for since Bertillon in Paris. It was amazing!
This morning, we cancelled the lunch reservations that I made and ordered room service and read magazines and just lounged around. We stopped for a tour of the Labor & Delivery ward on the way back home and then cooked dinner for the week.
Happy Birthday, YG! I'm grateful that I'm able to give you fun excursions like this.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Today: Grooming
It's hard to get excited about clothes and shoes when you are 7.5 months pregnant, forced to wear flats and bulging out of everything you own. So I appreciate the small things. A nice necklace, a cool bag, wearing earrings. I always forget to wear jewelry, but I've been doing it more so lately because I've been rotating the same 8 outfits for months now.
This morning, I decided to get my hair washed and blown out. This is, by far, one of my favorite things in the world. If I ever win the lotto and become ridiculously rich, I will hire someday to come to my house every few days and blow out my hair. I'm too lazy to do it myself, and when I do bother, it never looks as nice and shiny. My hair, which is already crazy thick and hard to deal with, has not fallen out AT ALL during this pregnancy so most of the time, it feels like I'm wearing a toupee and I just feel ratty. But not today. It feels light and it's shiny, and it's the small things. I'm taking YG away this weekend for Super Secret Birthday Weekend, and I'm just happy to be looking, well, decent.
This morning, I decided to get my hair washed and blown out. This is, by far, one of my favorite things in the world. If I ever win the lotto and become ridiculously rich, I will hire someday to come to my house every few days and blow out my hair. I'm too lazy to do it myself, and when I do bother, it never looks as nice and shiny. My hair, which is already crazy thick and hard to deal with, has not fallen out AT ALL during this pregnancy so most of the time, it feels like I'm wearing a toupee and I just feel ratty. But not today. It feels light and it's shiny, and it's the small things. I'm taking YG away this weekend for Super Secret Birthday Weekend, and I'm just happy to be looking, well, decent.
Friday: Sanity Check
I had a doctor's appointment yesterday morning that went relatively well. Zygote is jumpy and healthy again, but it, to quote the doctor, "looks like I am working on a big baby." Gulp. She is also worried about my weight. I gained more weight than I should have, am now over 200 lbs, and she thinks it might affect the baby's size and the process of having the baby. :-( I also don't have to keep eating my 300 extra calories a day anymore, since I have "some to spare." She was really nice about it, and not at all shaming, but UGH. I made it about two blocks before bursting into tears, and had YG talk me off the ledge.
I could have had a shitty day, but I'm grateful that I have decent friends who pointed out that I'm doing all the right things and that it isn't something to really worry about. Everyone seems to be getting the same kinds of weight advice, I shouldn't take it personally, and I am NOT doing anything harmful to my kid. I eat okay most of the time and I still work out five days a week, and I didn't dwell on it for THAT long. My friends are awesome.
I could have had a shitty day, but I'm grateful that I have decent friends who pointed out that I'm doing all the right things and that it isn't something to really worry about. Everyone seems to be getting the same kinds of weight advice, I shouldn't take it personally, and I am NOT doing anything harmful to my kid. I eat okay most of the time and I still work out five days a week, and I didn't dwell on it for THAT long. My friends are awesome.
Thursday's Gratitude: Restaurant Week With Friends
I worked late on Thursday and then met SKB at Upstairs on the Square for more Restaurant Week yumminess. I chatted with the nice bartenders before she arrived, had the BEST fried artichoke and pizza and then some yummy bread pudding. All for about $30. Woo hoo! YG met us later after his own Restaurant Week date and we just hung out. Good end to a stressful week.
Wednesday's Gratitude
I'm behind. Kind of a crazy week. But I did manage to catch up on my Target: Women episodes. LOVE this girl.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Grateful for Small Reprieves
I worked at home today which basically means that I rolled out of bed in my pajamas and was online slaving away at ungodly hours. I worked all the way through, taking one break to go get a delicious maple scone at Diesel. The frosting was perfect, and it made me smile for a short bit. Tons of conference calls this afternoon, an unexpected work project, fires to put out, but we logged off at 5 to get to Mt. Auburn Hospital to meet the doctors who work in Labor & Delivery. I feel infinitely better. Everyone seemed reasonable and willing to work with whatever plan we have in mind, and they have a really low C-section rate which makes me happy. We're meeting one of our doula candidates on Monday night. After the doctor visit, we had a Restaurant Week dinner at Harvest and then came back home where unfortunately, we are all back working again. But the reprieves? They are good. They keep the rest in perspective.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
And Tomorrow
I will be remember to write my Fuck It List, as opposed to my Bucket List. But my laptop if running out of batteries.
Today's Gratitude: First Church
YG and I first started going to First Church about 2.5 years ago when we both realized that we wanted to find a church to go to. We were both raised Catholic but were more or less kicked out when we got divorced. We shopped around for churches, but none felt right. And then we walked into First Church and everything just changed. We were where we were supposed to be.
I don't generally like to talk religion or church because it generally freaks people out and makes them assume you are some kind of Jesus freak. So I keep it personal, as I think most religion and/or faith should be.
Every quarter, First Church offers a healing mass. They sing nice songs and the people who want or need to get to talk to a deacon or the pastor and tell them what's on their mind. Then they bless you, offer you some kind words and send you on your way. It's a little bit like Confession, but out in the open. Sometimes, I need it and other times I find myself annoyed because it takes so long and I long for the days of Catholic Mass because at least you know you're ALWAYS going to get out in 50 minutes or less.
Today, I was fairly certain I didn't need it, but then I just started crying in church for I don't know what reason. I've been overly emotional these past few days, realizing that we have just 11 weeks left until Zygote shows up. There's a lot of work we need to do and I'm overly stressed at my job, and just wondering how I'm going to handle having a baby; if I'm suited to have a baby because I'm so selfish; if I'm going to be a shitty mother; if YG and I are going to fall apart; if I'm going to have no life left -- basically I'm overwhelmed with how much my life is going to change. I'm sure this is all normal and everybody feels this way, but I'm just on edge. So I said my bit, all snot faced and weepy, and I got my healing prayer and I immediately felt better.
I don't know if it works for everyone, but it worked for me. And I'm grateful.
I don't generally like to talk religion or church because it generally freaks people out and makes them assume you are some kind of Jesus freak. So I keep it personal, as I think most religion and/or faith should be.
Every quarter, First Church offers a healing mass. They sing nice songs and the people who want or need to get to talk to a deacon or the pastor and tell them what's on their mind. Then they bless you, offer you some kind words and send you on your way. It's a little bit like Confession, but out in the open. Sometimes, I need it and other times I find myself annoyed because it takes so long and I long for the days of Catholic Mass because at least you know you're ALWAYS going to get out in 50 minutes or less.
Today, I was fairly certain I didn't need it, but then I just started crying in church for I don't know what reason. I've been overly emotional these past few days, realizing that we have just 11 weeks left until Zygote shows up. There's a lot of work we need to do and I'm overly stressed at my job, and just wondering how I'm going to handle having a baby; if I'm suited to have a baby because I'm so selfish; if I'm going to be a shitty mother; if YG and I are going to fall apart; if I'm going to have no life left -- basically I'm overwhelmed with how much my life is going to change. I'm sure this is all normal and everybody feels this way, but I'm just on edge. So I said my bit, all snot faced and weepy, and I got my healing prayer and I immediately felt better.
I don't know if it works for everyone, but it worked for me. And I'm grateful.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Thank God for Syracuse Basketball
Won in 6 overtimes on Thursday and then overtime again last night. 51-43 right now, and they're looking very tired. Fingers crossed for another miracle.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Grateful For: Adult Weekend
OMG, so glad that it's Friday. Work is crazy busy, and Zygote is not cooperating. I am up every few hours during the night, tossing and turning, and the iron deficiency is only making me even more tired. Every day, around 2 p.m., I feel like I am going to DIE. But now, it's Friday and I have a whole adult weekend ahead of me. YG is bringing the MG back to her mom's tomorrow morning, and then we're going to just hang out and get some errands done and go to the gym and SLEEP. And then on Sunday, we'll go to brunch and walk around and cook at home. It will be nice and slow and I need it.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Today: Music and The Fun Facebook Notes About It
Sadly, I did not run into Bono last night. But I did enjoy the people watching in the Square and having a delicious dinner of ice cream, followed by potato skins with drunk YG and his slightly-less-drunk friend. We milled around a bit and talked to some fun local folks, but no Bono. Did I mention that I love where I live? How cool is it that fucking U2(!!!!!) played two blocks from my house in perhaps the most uncomfortable venue I've ever seen a show in? Cool.
In other music themes, the new note passing through Facebook is 26 albums. NN sent it to me and I actually had fun with it, and was grateful for the break from work. Cut and pasted from over there.
In other music themes, the new note passing through Facebook is 26 albums. NN sent it to me and I actually had fun with it, and was grateful for the break from work. Cut and pasted from over there.
Think of 26 albums that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life or the way you looked at it. They sucked you in and took you over for days, weeks, months, years. These are the albums that you can use to identify time, places, people, emotions. These are the albums that, no matter what they were thought of musically, shaped your world. When you finish, tag 26 others, including me. Make sure you copy and paste this part so they know the drill. Get the idea now? Good. Readers should feel free to guess (or ask) why particular albums are there.
The Early Years -- or mostly things my parents had in vinyl
1. Beatles -- 1967-1970(The Blue Album)
2. Beatles -- Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
3. Simon and Garfunkel -- Sounds of Silence
4. The Pointer Sisters -- Break Out. (We used to listen to this all.the.time. And dance. And then the record would jump and scratch. So cheesey.)
5. Diana Ross and The Supremes -- Merry Christmas (I love/d this album. It was my dad's. We listened to it every year, along with one that featured Perry Cuomo's head in a Christmas wreath.)
6. Madonna -- Like A Virgin. (I believe there is a videotape of me somewhere singing "Dress You Up" on our kitchen table.)
7. Bruce Springsteen -- Born in the USA. (First cassette tape I ever owned.)
High School -- or I'm so sad and suburban angsty
8. The Cure -- Disintegration
9. The Cure -- Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me
10. Pavement -- Slanted and Enchanted
11. The Pixies -- Doolittle
12. Sonic Youth -- Goo
13. Teenage Fanclub -- Bandwagonesque
14. Nirvana -- Smells Like Teen Spirit (yeah, I KNOW. But I listened to it all.the.time)
College -- I'm not so sad, but I am so cool
15. Radiohead -- The Bends (psycho roommate on benders)
16. Radiohead -- OK Computer (painting 913)
17. Smashing Pumpkins -- Mellon Collie and The Infinite Sadness (Lawrinson)
18. Liz Phair -- Exile in Guyville
19. Pixies -- Bossanova
20. Afghan Whigs -- Black Love (back and forth to Chicago)
21. Ani DiFranco -- a tie between Little Plastic Castle and Not a Pretty Girl
Post-college -- I am totally devolving and the fact that I don't listen to the radio means that I think Belle and Sebastian is a "new" band
22. Magnetic Fields -- 69 Love Songs
23. Bob Dylan -- Blood on The Tracks
24. Bruce Springsteen -- The Wild, The Innocent, and The E Street Shuffle
25. Death Cab for Cutie -- We Have The Facts and We're Voting Yes (405)
26. Wilco -- Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
And there are so many more. I had a really hard time with this. Also, I desperately need some new recommendations.
Yesterday: When The Mainstream Media Gets It Right
Newsweek ran this story, Five Mistakes We Make When We Talk About Rihanna, yesterday. I don't know who Chris Brown is and I didn't know anything about Rihanna other than the umbrella song and her Cover Girl commercials, but I've been watching the coverage of their domestic dispute, horrified. I can't believe how many people are just blowing this off and saying that people should give the dude a break. This story puts it in perspective. Do NOT read the comments section if you want a break from douchebaggery.
Also, in other media news, my serious crush on our President has not abated. A White House Council on Women and Girls? Lurve.
Also, thankful for Feministing because I probably would not be following all these stories without them.
Also, in other media news, my serious crush on our President has not abated. A White House Council on Women and Girls? Lurve.
Also, thankful for Feministing because I probably would not be following all these stories without them.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Grateful For: The Third Trimester
Well, I made it. I'm here at 28 weeks, officially in the third trimester. We're sitting on the couch, watching The Biggest Loser like we normally do on Tuesday nights, and Zygote is using my rib cage as some sort of percussion instrument. I can feel him or her almost every day now, and it's just freaky and weird and cool. According to the calendar over at AlphaMom, s/he is about 2.5 pounds. Now that I'm here, it's hard to remember all the anxiety and paranoia of the first trimester, but I was scared almost all of the time. And now I'm here. I just need to stay healthy for the next 12 weeks and then I get to meet this person.
That's rather gushy, but there you go.
That's rather gushy, but there you go.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Today: Feminism
Kate Harding has a great post over at Shapely Prose about International Women's Day. The whole piece is worth reading, along with the comments, but these two paragraphs specifically spoke to me:
Today, I'm grateful that I grew up in a relatively feminist household, even if my parents would drop dead before calling it that. Reasons I feel this way:
* I always knew I was going to college. Both of my parents worked their asses off to get advanced degrees and started talking about college and career plans with us when we were very young. Education was a TOP priority.
* My siblings and I didn't have gender expectations put upon us, meaning that my parents had the same expectations of my sister and I then they had of my brother. We were all going to go to school, study hard and be successful. It didn't matter who was a boy or a girl.
* It was CRYSTAL CLEAR that marriage, babies and "settling down" came after you were established and had a life and career of your own.
* My mother was always the primary breadwinner, showing us that this could be done. As far as I know, she never felt bad about having a career. Having that model makes it infinitely easier to deal with putting Zygote in day care while I figure out my next move. Nobody in my family cares, and frankly, they wouldn't expect otherwise. That support seems critical right now.
* My parents pretty much shared chores. There was no second shift. Again, proof that it can be done.
* Nobody gave me shit when I decided to get divorced. Sure, they did their own thing with managing gossip, but nobody told me that getting divorced was wrong or that I was making a mistake or that I would always be thought of as flawed.
There are plenty of others, but those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head. Honestly, I don't normally think about them until I hear stories about people who have grown up differently or are still struggling with parental expectations that they will get married, breed, and what not. I suppose I am pretty lucky.
"I started off with a whole lot of privilege that meant removing the “you must marry and reproduce young” obstacle actually had an enormous effect. That wouldn’t have been true if I hadn’t had the money to go to college; if I hadn’t had white skin and a WASPy name invisibly opening doors for me all along; if I hadn’t had parents who valued education and valued their girl children just as much as boys; if I’d grown up in a community where women still did start having children very young, or where there was no expectation that the average kid there would go on to higher education and a white collar job; if I’d been gay and the marriage/babies issue had been a lot more complicated than “I’m busy with other stuff.” My example here is a grade-A prime illustration of how feminism has centered and benefited white, middle-class, straight women, while leaving other women behind — and thus a prime illustration of how feminism needs to change, and how much fucking work is left to be done.
But if today is about celebrating the positives, it’s worth acknowledging that it’s also a prime illustration of how much cultural values can change in a single generation, and how much one strain of change can make a difference for some women. I grew up with a shitload more freedom and independence than my mom did. And that is indeed worth a cheer from me today, before it’s back to all the battles left to be fought. "
Today, I'm grateful that I grew up in a relatively feminist household, even if my parents would drop dead before calling it that. Reasons I feel this way:
* I always knew I was going to college. Both of my parents worked their asses off to get advanced degrees and started talking about college and career plans with us when we were very young. Education was a TOP priority.
* My siblings and I didn't have gender expectations put upon us, meaning that my parents had the same expectations of my sister and I then they had of my brother. We were all going to go to school, study hard and be successful. It didn't matter who was a boy or a girl.
* It was CRYSTAL CLEAR that marriage, babies and "settling down" came after you were established and had a life and career of your own.
* My mother was always the primary breadwinner, showing us that this could be done. As far as I know, she never felt bad about having a career. Having that model makes it infinitely easier to deal with putting Zygote in day care while I figure out my next move. Nobody in my family cares, and frankly, they wouldn't expect otherwise. That support seems critical right now.
* My parents pretty much shared chores. There was no second shift. Again, proof that it can be done.
* Nobody gave me shit when I decided to get divorced. Sure, they did their own thing with managing gossip, but nobody told me that getting divorced was wrong or that I was making a mistake or that I would always be thought of as flawed.
There are plenty of others, but those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head. Honestly, I don't normally think about them until I hear stories about people who have grown up differently or are still struggling with parental expectations that they will get married, breed, and what not. I suppose I am pretty lucky.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Today: Bursts of Spring
We had over a foot of snow just days ago, but it's all melted by now. Yesterday was about 70 degrees in New Jersey, and today the weather held up for the drive back and this afternoon. We drove along Memorial Drive and watched all the runners and bikers out on the path and some rowers on the Charles. When we got home, YG and MG played catch in the backyard, and I was able to get out for a walk. I walked through Davis Square where all the people were gathered around on the picnic benches. The first street musicians were out, and Diesel and Joshua Tree both had all their windows open. People, including myself, were in a good mood. Fingers crossed that this sticks.
Yesterday: Family
I missed yesterday because we did another whirlwind day -- drove from here to Staten Island to New Jersey to bed and then back again. Yesterday (and today), I was thankful for family. We had a surprise 60th birthday party for my dad, and my nana, all my aunts, some cousins and family friends were all there. The food was excellent and we had a good time hanging out with all. I forget that not everybody has this. Some of my friends and even YG have aunts and uncles that they rarely see or have no relationship, and that's so strange to me. I like that there's ALWAYS lots of people around to talk to and to see. Yes, it's a pain in the ass, but blah, blah, it takes a village.
Friday, March 06, 2009
Today's Gratitude: Reunited (And It Feels So Good)
Today, I'm happy that business trips do eventually come to an end. I missed YG while he was gone. Don't get me wrong -- I love my alone time and I've never understood couples who need to spend every waking moment together. But you get used to certain sounds and smells in the house, and when they're not there, it just seems...off. YG was gone from Sunday to today, and I'm glad he's back. It snowed on Monday and it was god awful cold all week so I didn't get out much, but I enjoyed my time working late and going to bed late and watching crappy t.v. I'm grateful YG made it back home safe and sound, and that our house is back to normal.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Today: Fighting for What's Right
Today, California's Supreme Court started weighing the legality of the gay marriage ban. They have 90 days to issue a ruling. Fingers and everything else on me crossed. I'm grateful for the people who showed up and non-violently protested side-by-side with the fuckers who held up signs like “Gay = Pervert” and “A Moral Wrong Can’t Be a Civil Right.” I don't know if I would have the ability to hold my tongue.
Also grateful for:
The Courage Campaign's video:
For The Bible Tells Me So -- My church did a screening of this movie (speaking of grateful, how cool is that?) about a year ago and I missed it, but I finally got along to watching it on HBO. Really well done, really moving.
Also grateful for:
The Courage Campaign's video:
For The Bible Tells Me So -- My church did a screening of this movie (speaking of grateful, how cool is that?) about a year ago and I missed it, but I finally got along to watching it on HBO. Really well done, really moving.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Today: Bad TV
I'm sure I will eventually get around to all the real things that I'm grateful for like friends, family, blah, blah, but the frivalous things are fun too. America's Next Top Model kicks off tonight and I couldn't be more happy. I LOVE this show! It's a sick, sick addiction and I need help. Already we've had Tyra in some gold lame outfit using her faux European accent and claiming herself "The Goddess of Fierce," along with your standard freakshows like the Jesus freak, the uppity bitch, a conspiracy theorist and someone with "anxiety issues" who also collects pens. It is scripted, sparkly crack and it is awesome.
In other news, Zygote is doing well. I passed my glucose test so no gestational diabetes. Woot! Unfortunately, my anemia is getting worse so I have yet another iron supplement to take. But poop stories -- yay!
In other news, Zygote is doing well. I passed my glucose test so no gestational diabetes. Woot! Unfortunately, my anemia is getting worse so I have yet another iron supplement to take. But poop stories -- yay!
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Today's Gratitude: Friends in The Arts
I had this long bitch post ready to go this morning about how it's 12 degrees and freezing and how I had to drive 80 miles this morning and how the pizza guy was an hour late last night and how I gained five pounds in a week and how gross my glucose drink was and.....well, sometimes you just end up in a good mood for reasons beyond your control. I was prepared to be bitchy and then I was not. Worked from home, caught up on a TON of work, listened to my happy, bouncy baby on the doppler. I guess this is why they call them mood "swings."
Tonight, I got to see my friend, SKB, perform in The Nose. It was great and interesting and weird. I am long past the point of caring whether or not I go somewhere by myself, and I struck up a conversation with the girl sitting next to me, who was there to support her friend singing in the chorus. I am grateful that I have so many friends still trying to make a living in The Arts. My day-to-day is about as far away from a creative life as you can possibly get, and I can sometimes get sucked into the racket. Between YG and I, we know quite a few singers, actors, writers, photographers, dancers, etc. It's inspiring, and helps me see that there is a life path other than the one that was prescribed to me (and that I unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on the day, followed). I am still sending my writing out there, and got an official rejection today on my travel piece. But it wasn't a form letter! Progress. :-)
Today, I am also grateful for my corporate whore lifestyle because it allowed to me to hitch a $28 cab ride back from Boston rather than take the T in the freezing cold and talk to the cabbie about his favorite operas. It's the little things that count.
Tonight, I got to see my friend, SKB, perform in The Nose. It was great and interesting and weird. I am long past the point of caring whether or not I go somewhere by myself, and I struck up a conversation with the girl sitting next to me, who was there to support her friend singing in the chorus. I am grateful that I have so many friends still trying to make a living in The Arts. My day-to-day is about as far away from a creative life as you can possibly get, and I can sometimes get sucked into the racket. Between YG and I, we know quite a few singers, actors, writers, photographers, dancers, etc. It's inspiring, and helps me see that there is a life path other than the one that was prescribed to me (and that I unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on the day, followed). I am still sending my writing out there, and got an official rejection today on my travel piece. But it wasn't a form letter! Progress. :-)
Today, I am also grateful for my corporate whore lifestyle because it allowed to me to hitch a $28 cab ride back from Boston rather than take the T in the freezing cold and talk to the cabbie about his favorite operas. It's the little things that count.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Grateful for
Figleaves.com! My new bras came today. Big, gargantuan bras for big, pregnant, gargantuan jugs. No more back fat! No more spillage! Woo hoo. Now that's the spirit of Lent.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Forty Days and Forty Nights
I've been thinking for a while about what I wanted to give up for Lent this year, but I came up with nothing. Last year, I gave up spending on extras like clothes and shoes and that was extremely tough. Yet rewarding. This year, with Zygote, I've already had to give up a lot of my vices -- wine, beer, buying tons of new clothes, caffeine, etc (and the crack and heroin ;-)) -- so what would be really hard? I briefly considered something abstract like "being negative," but that's nearly impossible. And then there's all those really nicey nice things like volunteering my time or helping people in need, and yeah...yeah. This is me we're talking about.
So I eventually decided that I'm not going to give up anything. I'm going to try and list something that I'm grateful for every day. That's not necessarily not being negative, but it does mean trying to find something to be thankful for every day, even when I'm knee deep in shit. And I think I can do it.
So today, I'm grateful for where I live. This may seem strange considering that we're able to get blanketed by another foot of snow tomorrow and I'm going to be trying to work, take care of MG and find someone to shovel all at the same time, but I love Cambridge. We still haven't eaten at all the great restaurants we want to eat at or explored all the bookstores or visited any of the Harvard museums. And spring WILL eventually come and that will mean more brunches outside and JP Licks and reading in the grass by the Charles.
So I eventually decided that I'm not going to give up anything. I'm going to try and list something that I'm grateful for every day. That's not necessarily not being negative, but it does mean trying to find something to be thankful for every day, even when I'm knee deep in shit. And I think I can do it.
So today, I'm grateful for where I live. This may seem strange considering that we're able to get blanketed by another foot of snow tomorrow and I'm going to be trying to work, take care of MG and find someone to shovel all at the same time, but I love Cambridge. We still haven't eaten at all the great restaurants we want to eat at or explored all the bookstores or visited any of the Harvard museums. And spring WILL eventually come and that will mean more brunches outside and JP Licks and reading in the grass by the Charles.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Dickhead of The Week
It's not like I needed a reason to hate anti-gay bigot Fred Phelps any more. But I do.
It's very difficult to put into words how much this sickens me.
"A religious fringe group from Topeka, Kan., is coming to Clarence Center and Buffalo on Sunday to picket church services to remember victims of Continental Connection Flight 3407.
Westboro Baptist Church has long been associated with virulent anti-gay views and has picketed the funerals of American soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. Members contend that the deaths it pickets are God's punishment for what it considers the nation's permissive attitude toward homosexuals."
It's very difficult to put into words how much this sickens me.
On Writing and Registering
Zygote is due on June 2. The new semester starts on March 31 and goes until the last week in May. With work hell and personal committments, I was thinking it would be ridiculous to try and squeeze in another class. And then I thought, "Fuck it." I don't want to lose momentum. I want this for me. So I registered. With that class, Making The Most of Your Material, and my writing group, I feel pretty good.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Key West is Sunny!
I was thinking of live blogging the Oscars again this year, but I have a mound of laundry to fold and I'm in sugar coma due to eating 3 slices of pizza, cake, ice cream and two cupcakes for YG's family birthday party today. Totally Zygote's fault -- insert self-directed eye roll. So...no live blog. I did, however, get around to uploading vacation pics. Enjoy!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Password Protection
I am thinking about making this blog password protected, but it's sort of an arduous process on Blogger. If you're interested in keeping up, please email me and I'll add you to my list of "approved" users. Still mulling this one over, though.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Off To Key West
No laptop. No blackberry. Just lots of books. And hopefully lots of good stories to share.
Essays I Want To Write
We had to free write a list of essays we wanted to write about in class the other night. Some off the top of my head:
1. Story of your/my name
2. Choosing kid's names
3. Inspired by this post over at Feministing, I want to write about how my daily routine has affected my feminism or made it stronger.
4. The weekend from hell -- or the weekend that I got to attend my grandfather's funeral AND get divorced
5. 12-step for people that don't suck
6. My haircuts through the ages
7. How I came to be a writer -- or Mrs. Forcella and the green notebook
8. More on fat acceptance
9. Cross country running at Memorial, or why I am obsessive compulsive about hair removal
10. My many anger management confrontations
In other news, I sent out two stories for publication -- one on dieting and another one on Carolina Pottery. Fingers crossed.
1. Story of your/my name
2. Choosing kid's names
3. Inspired by this post over at Feministing, I want to write about how my daily routine has affected my feminism or made it stronger.
4. The weekend from hell -- or the weekend that I got to attend my grandfather's funeral AND get divorced
5. 12-step for people that don't suck
6. My haircuts through the ages
7. How I came to be a writer -- or Mrs. Forcella and the green notebook
8. More on fat acceptance
9. Cross country running at Memorial, or why I am obsessive compulsive about hair removal
10. My many anger management confrontations
In other news, I sent out two stories for publication -- one on dieting and another one on Carolina Pottery. Fingers crossed.
I Invite You
To imagine me doing this:
Especially the "salsa dance" part. Especially when this perky little blonde with a full face of make up tells me how "sassy" I am and asks me to tell her how sexy I feel. Especially when we all go "woooooo." Yep. Imagine that. Or imagine me. And then die laughing.
I've gotten a lot of great prenatal videos. This one, not so much.
Especially the "salsa dance" part. Especially when this perky little blonde with a full face of make up tells me how "sassy" I am and asks me to tell her how sexy I feel. Especially when we all go "woooooo." Yep. Imagine that. Or imagine me. And then die laughing.
I've gotten a lot of great prenatal videos. This one, not so much.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Sick Of
Having to buy new bras every two months. I'm nearing the 200 lb mark and I had to go digging to find a bra that would work this morning, stuffing myself into a 40DD. With four months left, how big are these melons going to get? I'm scared.
Friday, February 06, 2009
25 Things About Me
I did this excercise about 2.5 years ago, but if the New York Times is writing about Facebook's 25 Random Things , then I guess I need to do it too. Then maybe I'll stop being tagged. Plus, most of my 101 random things from Oct. 2006 don't exactly apply anymore.
So the most random, off the top of my head:
1. Some things don't change. I'm still an INTJ. So is Donald Rumsfeld. Great.
2. I got married for the second time in April 2008 to the second husband that I met at work.
3. I have a hyphenated last name now. I always thought people with hyphenated last names were sort of douchey, but it worked and I like it. I still have trouble remembering to add that last syllable, though, and it always sounds like an afterthought. And 10 months later and I still haven't changed my driver's license.
4. I now have a 9 year old stepdaughter and a baby on the way.
5. We're not finding out the sex of the baby. We're not telling anyone our baby names, although I laughed pretty hard when I saw a few of them on Queerty's Baby Naming Guide.
6. I have done lots of "bad" things during this pregnancy like dye my hair, eat soft cheese, cold cuts and brought my pulse above 140. I don't feel guilty about these things. I don't shoot heroin or have 3 martini lunches. I'm a big believer in perspective.
7. I hate fundamentalism in all forms. I didn't know about the child rearing fanatics until I got pregnant, but they are my newest people to hate on. I am, however, enjoying reading these folks.
8. I really miss running, but I'm proud of myself for finishing a 10K in good time in my first trimester.
9. I kind of hate on people who think you are interested in every aspect of their pregnancy, but based on most of my responses above, I am one of them.
10. I've been taking creative writing classes since I moved up to Cambridge and it's one of the best things I've ever done for myself.
11. When I was in fifth grade, my teacher thought I lied about writing a poem that I read in class. When she realized that it was mine, she gave me a green notebook and told me to write about everything if I wanted to be a writer. I've kept a journal ever since. I still have that first one.
12. I've never developed any proper career plan beyond "be a writer." I like my career, but I just sort of fell into it. I spend a lot of time feeling lost, even though I know I'm decent at what I do.
13. For the first time, I am actively searching for markets for my writing. I still hope to get published. Even better? I still hope to make some money at this. I'd take a dollar at this point.
14. I am looking forward to buying new clothes again. I love clothes and shoes and bags and any website or magazine or blog devoted to the above.
15. I love Diane Von Furstenberg, Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein and on the lower end, JCrew. All classics. I don't get Marc Jacobs and the hipster devotion to his lines.
16. I have an absurd amount of Cole Haan shoes.
17. I can't remember the last time I bought any new music. All my new music and new favorite bands are from about 10 years ago. This makes me feel incredibly old.
18. Rushmore is still my favorite movie, although I watch a grotesque amount of bad romantic comedies when YG is away. P.S. I Love You has to rank as one of the worst movies that I ever saw -- up there with the one where Sarah Michelle Geller is a cook with magical powers. That one was so bad I don't even remember the title.
19. If I don't grab the remote right away, I end up having to endure YG's shows -- FutureWeapons, Mythbusters, Dirtiest Jobs, lots of shit with cars and guns, etc. I really don't understand how a man who watches these could make fun of me for still watching Grey's Anatomy.
20. I listen to NPR all the time, but I am sometimes annoyed by the announcers' I'm-so-smart-can't-you-tell-how-smugly-smart-I-am voices.
21. I still buy way too many books. I have stacks of books that I'm going to read someday "when I have the time."
22. I think that bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel with a side of fries is the most divine meal ever.
23. People say that I drive like a grandma, but I beg to disagree. If I'm driving, you need to shut up. Also, DO NOT touch the radio dial. I will cut you.
24. I've been out of college for over a decade and I still wish that I could recreate the kind of fantastic atmosphere that exisits when you live within a few blocks of all your best friends and the most stressful thing you have to do is study.
25. Finding 25 random things to say about me is much harder than I thought. I can think of numerous "random" things, but I'm not sure if I'd want to make them public on the Internets.
So the most random, off the top of my head:
1. Some things don't change. I'm still an INTJ. So is Donald Rumsfeld. Great.
2. I got married for the second time in April 2008 to the second husband that I met at work.
3. I have a hyphenated last name now. I always thought people with hyphenated last names were sort of douchey, but it worked and I like it. I still have trouble remembering to add that last syllable, though, and it always sounds like an afterthought. And 10 months later and I still haven't changed my driver's license.
4. I now have a 9 year old stepdaughter and a baby on the way.
5. We're not finding out the sex of the baby. We're not telling anyone our baby names, although I laughed pretty hard when I saw a few of them on Queerty's Baby Naming Guide.
6. I have done lots of "bad" things during this pregnancy like dye my hair, eat soft cheese, cold cuts and brought my pulse above 140. I don't feel guilty about these things. I don't shoot heroin or have 3 martini lunches. I'm a big believer in perspective.
7. I hate fundamentalism in all forms. I didn't know about the child rearing fanatics until I got pregnant, but they are my newest people to hate on. I am, however, enjoying reading these folks.
8. I really miss running, but I'm proud of myself for finishing a 10K in good time in my first trimester.
9. I kind of hate on people who think you are interested in every aspect of their pregnancy, but based on most of my responses above, I am one of them.
10. I've been taking creative writing classes since I moved up to Cambridge and it's one of the best things I've ever done for myself.
11. When I was in fifth grade, my teacher thought I lied about writing a poem that I read in class. When she realized that it was mine, she gave me a green notebook and told me to write about everything if I wanted to be a writer. I've kept a journal ever since. I still have that first one.
12. I've never developed any proper career plan beyond "be a writer." I like my career, but I just sort of fell into it. I spend a lot of time feeling lost, even though I know I'm decent at what I do.
13. For the first time, I am actively searching for markets for my writing. I still hope to get published. Even better? I still hope to make some money at this. I'd take a dollar at this point.
14. I am looking forward to buying new clothes again. I love clothes and shoes and bags and any website or magazine or blog devoted to the above.
15. I love Diane Von Furstenberg, Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein and on the lower end, JCrew. All classics. I don't get Marc Jacobs and the hipster devotion to his lines.
16. I have an absurd amount of Cole Haan shoes.
17. I can't remember the last time I bought any new music. All my new music and new favorite bands are from about 10 years ago. This makes me feel incredibly old.
18. Rushmore is still my favorite movie, although I watch a grotesque amount of bad romantic comedies when YG is away. P.S. I Love You has to rank as one of the worst movies that I ever saw -- up there with the one where Sarah Michelle Geller is a cook with magical powers. That one was so bad I don't even remember the title.
19. If I don't grab the remote right away, I end up having to endure YG's shows -- FutureWeapons, Mythbusters, Dirtiest Jobs, lots of shit with cars and guns, etc. I really don't understand how a man who watches these could make fun of me for still watching Grey's Anatomy.
20. I listen to NPR all the time, but I am sometimes annoyed by the announcers' I'm-so-smart-can't-you-tell-how-smugly-smart-I-am voices.
21. I still buy way too many books. I have stacks of books that I'm going to read someday "when I have the time."
22. I think that bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel with a side of fries is the most divine meal ever.
23. People say that I drive like a grandma, but I beg to disagree. If I'm driving, you need to shut up. Also, DO NOT touch the radio dial. I will cut you.
24. I've been out of college for over a decade and I still wish that I could recreate the kind of fantastic atmosphere that exisits when you live within a few blocks of all your best friends and the most stressful thing you have to do is study.
25. Finding 25 random things to say about me is much harder than I thought. I can think of numerous "random" things, but I'm not sure if I'd want to make them public on the Internets.
Pregnant, Not Fat
It's been the week from hell at work, and I am glad to be in my pajamas on the couch, even though it's only 9 p.m. We had antipasto for dinner and fondue for dessert and I'm all smiles now.
Earlier in the week, I had my monthly check in with the OB. Zygote is looking healthy and happy, but unfortunately may end up being smothered to death by all my fat. In the first 20 weeks of pregnancy, I gained about 7 pounds and was wondering if I was gaining quick enough. Then in the last few weeks, I've been putting on about 2 pounds a week. Because of all my freakin' issues, I was slightly worried, but then figured that I was just being...well, me.
Then I got to the OB. First the nurse noted that the recent gain was "not good," and then the doctor gave me the more polite "undesirable." They said that I should work out more and limit my sweets, fats, eat more whole grains, blah, blah. I said that I had heard you weren't supposed to diet when you were pregnant. "But it's not a diet." WHATEVER.
Being me, I've spent the week being bipolar. One part of me is feeling horrible and shamed and obsessing about working out, even though I am already working out 4 times a week. My evil twin is screaming, "Are you fucking kidding me? I am PREGNANT. I'm supposed to gain weight." All of me is feeling extremely frustrated.
Earlier in the week, I had my monthly check in with the OB. Zygote is looking healthy and happy, but unfortunately may end up being smothered to death by all my fat. In the first 20 weeks of pregnancy, I gained about 7 pounds and was wondering if I was gaining quick enough. Then in the last few weeks, I've been putting on about 2 pounds a week. Because of all my freakin' issues, I was slightly worried, but then figured that I was just being...well, me.
Then I got to the OB. First the nurse noted that the recent gain was "not good," and then the doctor gave me the more polite "undesirable." They said that I should work out more and limit my sweets, fats, eat more whole grains, blah, blah. I said that I had heard you weren't supposed to diet when you were pregnant. "But it's not a diet." WHATEVER.
Being me, I've spent the week being bipolar. One part of me is feeling horrible and shamed and obsessing about working out, even though I am already working out 4 times a week. My evil twin is screaming, "Are you fucking kidding me? I am PREGNANT. I'm supposed to gain weight." All of me is feeling extremely frustrated.
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