Monthly Archives: January 2010

I want this baby out. I want to see who it looks like and examine its impossibly small limbs. I want to know if it has a full head of black hair and feel self-righteous when it’s a girl and I can say “I knew it all along.” I want to lay on the bed and stare at the baby. I want to try this whole breastfeeding thing and learn to squirt milk across the room. I want to put the baby on my chest while it sleeps. I want to feel all the feelings that they tell you moms feel. I want to stop with the heartburn and not have to buy another bottle of Pepcid (I think I have four left). I want to turn over in bed without sounding/feeling like I’ve just run a marathon. I want to bend over without throwing up in my throat. I want my pelvis not to feel so broken. I want my vagina to look and feel normal again.

I want the baby to stay inside me forever. Because I’m scared to be someone’s PARENT. I’m scared of growing old. I’m scared of not loving my child enough. I’m scared of loving my child too much. I’m scared that suburbia will continue to look more and more attractive and some day, I will end up in a suburban housing development with a crossover vehicle and a neat lawn and smiling neighbors. I’m scared of feeling lonely at home with a child. I’m scared that the entire axis of my life is about to shift and never ever be the same again. I’m scared that, even after 8.5 years, John and I haven’t had enough time to go on adventures . . . I never went to China. I didn’t apply to grad school yet. I’m not totally fluent in Spanish. I live next door to Walmart. I didn’t take advantage of 99.9% of the opportunities I had while living in New York City and now I may never live there again. I’m going to be a parent. And have a child. For all the rest of my days.

Chapter 1: Baby begins
Verizon wireless has poor coverage in Collinsville, CT. For this reason, we accidently conceive a child. Will remain unaware of the creature’s presence for a few weeks.

Blissfully unaware on May 30, 2009. Creature is 5 weeks old.

Chapter 2: Baby takes a stand
Baby then valiently clings to my insides and ignores the morning-after-pill and a bout of swine flu. Disclaimer: I knew better. Do not actually believe that the morning after pill is effective up to 72 hours. Take it sooner. Hour #72 is not necessarily the best time.

Chapter 3: Baby terrifies its mother and father
A few positive pregnancy tests.

Incredulous.

Some head-banging on the wall of my NYC apartment. A phone call to the man responsible. Some more head-banging and a lot of pacing. A few weeks of feeling like an alien from another planet with a terrible secret.

Frog in a cave = 8 week ultrasound

Body feels fine, but brain is scrambled. Three months of cautiously continuing to work in a Queens ER. Lots of hiding from x-ray machines, violent drunks, and combative, feces-slinging old people.

11 weeks: I remember I felt huge.

Chapter 4: Baby is surprisingly pleasant to have around.

Baby bids farewell to the ER and moves to CT with me. No pain, no nausea, no vomiting. Just ravenous hunger and a growing midsection. Oh – and dark nipples. Ever-darkening nipples.

16 week belly

Baby goes to North Dakota.

Baby looks good on a tractor

Baby goes to Israel.

Baby at an Israeli crossroads

Swims in some Mexican cave pools

20 weeks

Climbs some mountains.

Mount Monadnock

Masada

Much Kale and salad [and buffalo chicken wings and orange doritos] are consumed. Nipples get darker and a little milk surprises the hell out of me in the shower. Anxiety slowly dissipates. Feeling really great for many weeks.

20 week ultrasound

23 weeks pregnant

26 weeks pregnant. I remember feeling HUGE here too. I had no idea what was in store.

27 week belly = best halloween accessory ever

34 weeks pregnant: probably around the last time I felt comfortable.

Chapter 5: Baby decides to let loose holy terror.
8.5 months and all peace is shattered. Someone is surely drop-kicking me in the vagina during the night and my pelvis is broken. Both hips are surely broken. Intense discomfort begins. Must buy slip-on rubber boots at Walmart because bending over is no longer an option. I am told this is all normal. Thank you.

36 weeks pregnant = looking less pleased

Chapter 6: Baby is no longer fun to carry around inside. No longer.
Midwife tells me that the sensation of a knitting needle stabbing my vagina is normal. Thank you midwife. Dark nipples now with full-time, milky fun. Baby-carrying pouch now obscures view/access to all nether regions. Nether regions become very mysterious. Inner thighs ache. Rolling over? Not possible. Sleep? Not possible. Breathing? Hardly possible. Heartburn? Spewing forth at regular intervals and immune to Pepcid.

Chapter 7: Baby is still inside me as of today. . . .

belly today. 38 weeks + 1 day pregnant.