Thursday, June 30, 2005


Well, one of my daily reads just had his beautiful babies. Jay and Jazz had twins, one boy and one girl. Benjamin (5 pounds and change) and Olivia (4 pounds and change) were born vaginally on June 29th and both babies and Mom is reportedly doing well.

After looking at the amazing picture of the two munchkins, I couldn't help but adding the two birth weights together and thinking that my giant baby might outweigh these two babies combined. Ha! Beat that. Maybe there is a bumper sticker somewhere that says, "My baby can kick your baby's ass" I would put that on my car. Definately.

However, I don't want to make national news just for giving birth. The "Big Enchilada" baby born in Wisconsin is giving large babies a bad name. The woman was 47 cm from pubic bone to sternum when she gave birth to her 13 pound, 11 ounce baby. Just for reference, I found out today at my OB-GYN appointment that I'm 42 cms and still growing. The doc and I decided that she would induce labor sometime next week for the health of everyone involved. Unfortunately, my cervix is still closed and the baby hasn't dropped further into my pelvis. With this set of conditions, it is highly likely that after laboring for 24-48 hours, I might end up in the operating room with a C-section. At least I get a fighting chance to have Peanut vaginally.

I also found out that the numbness and tingling in my arms and hands is a form of pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome. Basically, my entire body has swollen to capacity and now the pressure of the baby is starting to cut off nerve endings in my upper torso. If that isn't a good enough reason to use two kinds of birth control before every sexual act, you might be insane.

Maybe I'll start going into low-income high schools and community colleges with a "Scared Straight" message. Instead of scaring kids off crime, I'll scare them out of having unprotected sex. I'll show them every stretch mark on my body and my swollen, purple feet. I'll tell them about how the FOB won't return my phone calls anymore and how I'm thinking about pushing to terminate his parental rights. I'll waddle into the gymnasium and sit with huge belly and tell them that I used to be able to sleep on my stomach or even my back if I felt like it. Life was carefree and included beer. BEER, I tell you!! But then I won't show them my beautiful little miracle, because he's just going to be too darn cute to scare anyone out of parenting.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005


Dear Peanut,

Life here on the outside world is great! We like it so much and I really think that you would like it a lot more out here. Out here there is me, Grandpa and Grandma, Aunt Jen, and a whole host of friends that are waiting to see your beautiful face. In fact, all of those people have taken to checking in with your Mommy periodically to see if you are still inside me (you are).

Mommy has also been doing some research on circumcision. People get very, very upset when you start talking about this subject, but I have to make the best decision for you that I can. I figure that at the very least, I should read more about it for your sake. Basically, baby, in some parts of the US circumcision rates are still around 80%. That means that if you were in the locker room with 10 boys, only 2 of them would have "turtleneck". Mommy appreciates the irony in that statement because she just saw your "turtle" in the last ultrasound (hee, hee).

Now, I know that you aren't thinking about this right now, and hopefully you won't until your 18 or so, but almost every straight woman that I've talked to likes the way that a circumcised penis looks. My research on the preferences of gay men is lacking, and I'm sorry about that. If you are ostracize in the gay community because of your penis, let me know. I'll start protesting at every pride parade and in every gay magazine that I can get my hands on. Or if some European or Canadian girl decides not to be with you because you don't have a foreskin, you just remind her that American girls like you just the way you are. And then give me the bitch's phone number....

So, you aren't going to remember what having a foreskin was like or even that someone removed it, but I'm going to promise you that I will be by your side and force them to give you enough anesthesia. When you are old enough to have kids, we'll talk about this again and I'll support whatever decision you make then. Medically or socially, the practice and attitudes towards circumcision might be different when you're ready to have kids. As for now, the scientific evidence is a little shaky, but your little turtle is going to be easier to clean and have less urinary tract infections.

Please come out soon. I love you,


Sunday, June 26, 2005


So, one of my favorite bloggers, SJ, is pregnant again with her second child. She thinks that it's going to be a boy and one of the funniest comments that she wrote was,

"The thought of a boy scares me. Sure, there’s the whole fact that everyone is going to try and make him a Tonka Truck carrying, Monster Truck watching, Card Carrying Hick. What I’m really worried about, however, is the weiner.
First off, I can’t imagine growing something with nuts and a wang in there. Second, these nuts and wang will emerge and someone is going to expect me to clean them. "

After I finished laughing, I realized that I haven't written very much recently about having a boy. When I found out at 20 weeks that Peanut was a boy, I wrote this entry, but then the issue of what biological sex my child would be kind of faded in my mind. HOWEVER, every time I go to get another ultrasound (I've had six during this tumultuous pregnancy because of injury and the little one deciding that he wanted to sit butt down on mommy's small intenstine for 26 weeks), the technicians go a little crazy pointing out his "boy parts". I've heard his penis referred to everything from a "turtle" to a "weiner" to a "winky". I even have one entire photograph of his scrotum with the word, "scrotum" typed on the picture, just in case you couldn't figure out how the Nerf golf balls ended up in my uterus. It seems that medical technicians are obsessed with my baby's growing genitalia.

I have to admit, that I'm not worried about a baby penis, being sprayed in the face with urine can only be SO bad....I'm worried about the toddler penis that he wants to play with and show everyone that comes into the house....about the pre-teen penis that decides it wants to start displaying its eruptive power in the middle of the night....about the teenage penis that takes over his brain until the age of thirty.....and morning wood. How am I going to be able to look at Peanut in the morning and ask if he wants Cheerios or Honey Nut Bran while he's pitching a tent in his boxer shorts? Do I make him wait to come into the kitchen until everything is back to normal? Do I pretend that (God help me) it's normal and that I'm a cool, hippie Mom that embraces sexuality and nudity in a five year-old?

OK, do you see my dilemma? I want to be supportive of his "boy parts", but I have this huge Puritan streak in me that kind of freaks out when I'm around penises. It's like God is forcing me to deal with my male gender and sexuality issues. This might be punishment for some of the things I said about men in my late teenage years. God knows....and apparently he remembers.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005


Brings new meaning to the term "full frontal", no? My favorite part is that my linea nigra, the line that goes from my pubic bone to my sternum, isn't perfectly straight. Half of my belly button is also poking out, which gives me this great, asymmetrical look. In my own "stretch mark" defense, I think the lines on my belly are veins, most of my stretch marks are on the side of my body. Posted by Hello


In honor of Patrick and Melanie, who both asked me for more belly me, this took a lot of courage for me to post. Posted by Hello

Tuesday, June 21, 2005


Can you see the turtle ? Don't worry, I had never heard it called a "turtle" either, but it's very accurate from this angle. Looks like I can't call him Peanut anymore.... Posted by Hello


36-38 weeks of baby at the most recent ultrasound. Folks say that he has my nose, but that might just be wishful thinking. Give yourself kudos if you can even identify the nose in this picture. Posted by Hello

Monday, June 20, 2005


8 pounds 3 ounces.

Let's all say that together, just so we can get the full impact of that number: 8 pounds 3 ounces, at 37 weeks. If the baby gains 1/2 pound per week, he's looking at a solid 10 pounds at delivery. I'm supposed to push out a squirming, 10-pound object out of my vagina while "breathing through" the pain.

That was the thought that was bouncing around my head as the technician kept squirting goo on my torso while muttering, "this baby is everywhere." Yep, he is. His head was right now by my bladder, although I didn't need an ultrasound to tell me that, and his legs were curled up right under my ribs. Cozy. My favorite part of the ultrasound was when the technician focused on his face, all squished up against the uterine wall. His mouth was opening and closing and I could almost hear him say, "Help me, Mom! I don't want to be in here anymore." If I could reach into my vagina, through my cervix, and single-handedly pull him out, I would do it. In fact, I think one of the reason the female body is made the way that it is is to discourage this exact behavior.

Looking back over my recent blog entries, I noticed that I've written very little about the FOB lately. I called him today with the results of the ultrasound and he told me his new and revised "plan". This plan involves me calling him during the early stages of labor so he can jump on a plane and fly from NH to TX to see his son being born. After I got through laughing at his "plan" I told him not to bother since he wasn't going to be in the birthing room anyways. The best part of the plan was when I realized that the baby isn't going to know if he sees Daddy (a.k.a. Mr. Sperm Donor) for the first time at 1 hour or 1 week old. There is beauty in that kind of ignorance.

On the upside, Mr. Sperm Donor finally found a job after two months of unemployment and is in the training stage of employment. Maybe there is hope of child support on the horizon. Maybe my Doc will choose to induce me at 8 1/2 pounds of baby instead of the full 10 and maybe my heart burn will ease up enough for me to stop contemplating a late-night tracheotomy. Maybe.

Thursday, June 16, 2005


I went to the OB-GYN today and had a fun shock....apparently my blood pressure has spiked. I knew all the stress and heat wasn't good for me, but I had no idea that it could such a sudden rise in the all-important blood pressure numbers (Sidebar: one theme that you might notice in this blog is the importance of numbers. Pregnancy seems to be measured by numbers: the baby's heart beat, my stomach circumference, my weight, blood pressure, number of contractions in an hour, and the amount of time between each contraction. For a "natural" process, modern medicine has quantified the experience by numbers, tape measures, and scales.)

So, what has this spike in blood pressure earned me, you might be asking? Oh, yeah, my greatest worry: bed rest. At least three days isn't three months, in which case I would be pulling out my hair and complaining bitterly on my blog every day. I can do three days of being house bound. Heck, some people might even look at this as a vacation. My doctor actually looked at my chart and said, "Well, I see that you don't have any other children and you live at home with your parents (I'm not making this up) should rest all weekend and take it easy."

I also have another confession: I've been using alka-seltzer almost every night to cure my upset stomach and heart burn. I personally think that the gods themselves created alka-seltzer and bestowed it on pregnant women to comfort them late at night when wimpy-ass tums and maalox fails. With my head held low, I had to confess to my OB-GYN about my nightly addiction to substance that was once marketed with the slogan, "Pop,pop, fizz, fizz...Oh what a relief it is!" The 500mg of aspirin was my downfall. As an anticoagulant, aspirin can encourage bleeding and could possibly rupture my placenta. This is what the woman that sticks her hand up inside me once a week, pronouncing my cervix closed and high, told me at least. It's not that I don't believe her: I do - I promise, it's just that I think she's exaggerating.

Ruptured placenta on the one hand.....getting to sleep before three a.m. on the other Tough call. I wish I wasn't so responsible. If it wasn't for the baby, I'd be doing more alka-seltzer than a Wall Street lawywer did coke back in the '80s.

Monday, June 13, 2005


Monday morning at the ol' job.... Sometimes I'm amazed that I'm even vertical and I feel like all of the people around me should congratulate me on getting out of bed in the morning. Instead of saying, "Oh, man, you look like you're about ready to pop," they should instead say, "'re up and at 'em early this morning look fresh and ready to conquer the day." Basically, I just want you to lie to me. That's all I'm asking for...just some good natured lying until I can tie my shoes myself.

Friday, June 10, 2005


Let's talk about false labor for a second, shall we? It turns out last Tuesday I was in "false labor" when I wrote my last post, which is basically one of the most humiliating experiences that I've had in quite a while and that is even including simultaneously vomiting and pooping during my last stay at the hospital. The hardest part about false labor is how distrustful it makes you of your own body, especially during a time when you supposed to be the most intune with what is going on inside of you.

So, I sat there at work measuring my contractions for two hours, dealing with the pain and uncomfort of having them come every 15 minutes, and watching everyone around me freak out. It's a little known fact, but people get paranoid around pregnant women. They think that they are going to go into labor at any moment, so it is especially challenging for them to deal with it when you actually do start to go into labor. I called my doctor and he told me to go to the hospital for evaluation. One problem: I work in Northeast Houston and my hospital is in a suburb south of Houston about 45 minutes away. For those of you Houston folks that can sympathize, try driving on I-45 South at 3pm with unbelievably tight contractions for an hour or so. By the time I got to the hospital, I was literally panting and holding onto my back.

I pulled the car into valet parking, much to the shock of the man who parked my car and helped me to the door, and tried not to fall over before I reached the fourth floor. A funny thing happened on the fourth floor, I layed down and the contractions stopped. I almost fell asleep. I was tired and I had gas. Had I been at home when this happened, I would have taken a nap, but since I was at work, I had no choice but to take the contractions seriously and go to the hospital. The patronizing nurse actually congratulated me when I had a contraction in two hours. Bee-otch. I left the hospital crying and trying to tell myself that it was normal to think you are in labor when you're actually not. You know what though, it didn't feel normal. Nothing about it felt normal.

In other pregnancy news, I've had some crazy insomnia lately, which leads me to wonder about these women with newborns who say how tired they are because the babies don't sleep through the night. I haven't slept through the night since sometime in my fourth month. I pee every two hours like clockwork and I usually lay on the couch for an hour or two trying to get to sleep. Who are these women that have been sleeping blissfully during pregnancy? Someone get me in contact so I can find out there secret.

At least once the baby comes I can have somone to hang out with at 3am. My cat always sleeps during that hour. Lucky bastard.