Progress! April 29, 2007

Joe has been hard at work on home renovations.  He has the plans from the architect, and has given them to 3 different contractors.  Now, we just wait for bids and then things begin.  In theory.  Of course, one of the contractors we gave them to never actually showed up at the meeting he was supposed to have at our house today.  So I guess that narrows down the field.  It’s too bad, too.  It was a Tibetan-owned contractor, and with the Dalai Lama coming to town next week, it would have been good karma.  As a matter of fact, that’s the name of the comapny — “Good Karma.”  Oh well.  I’ll have to try to get to Nirvana some other way.

At any rate, now the fun part begins, where we get to go around and pick out appliances and gadgets.  That’s totally fun — until someone has to actually write the check.  But, until that reality check, we’ll enjoy dreaming of the combination dishwasher/cat feeder/floorscrubber with an optional rice cooker attachment and iPod dock.

Apparently, progress is being made.  Hopefully in the next week or so, we’ll have a bid and a contractor who will be ready to knock down our 85 year old walls and and let the asbestos fly!

Green Light April 24, 2007

Apparently, we have navigated the rocky shores of the first trimester successfully.  Our doctor’s appointment yesterday went well, and the doc tells us that indeed, we are going to have a baby (I mean the royal “we,” of course.  JoeKim will not really be having any babies.  He will more be having beers.)  I don’t know what I was expecting, but the visit was kind of anticlimactic.  I don’t know if I wanted a special certificate, or a parade, or confetti spewing from the ultrasound machine with the Hallelujiah chorus playing, but whatever it was, I didn’t get it.  I suppose matter-of-fact and short is much better than complicated and worrisome.  But still.

At any rate, now we can send the blanket emails (although Joe pretty much told everyone he knows within the first week of the pregnancy).  I just told work today, and announcements like that are always good for about half a day of  procrastination, while everyone comes up to you and congratulates you.  So I could get out of some work, which was nice.  Now, however, I’m sure the advice will start, which will not be nice.  I’ll keep you posted on all the tips.

Bikini, A toll April 23, 2007

I am walking fine, thank you very much. I was a little worried about it, as I got my first bikini wax on Saturday. Why I did such a thing, I’m not sure, but I did. A friend organized a “spa day” for a bunch of us — I think she goes to the spa more often than I do, so it wasn’t as strange to her as it was to me. It was a great place, Spa Soak, in Chicago. I got a pedicure and a bikini wax, both firsts for me. The pedicure was nice, and I now have lime green toenails, which is fun.

The wax I would not call “fun.” However, it wasn’t as bad as I had worried it would be. Joe was even a little worried, and told me (only half-jokingly, I think) maybe I shouldn’t get one because what if I went “Hnuuungh” (a direct quote) and popped out the fetus. I suppose yelling at Cubs games is right out, too, using that logic. But, my logic was that a) soon I won’t be able to see down there, and summer is coming, so I should start some upkeep, b) soon, a lot more people than usual will be taking an interest in that general area and poking around. It should look nice, no? and c) I should really start working on my pain tolerance in the groin area. So, bikini wax it was. It took a while, since after a winter (really, a lifetime) of neglect it was like the Belgian Congo down there (I know there’s some sort of Kurtz traveling into the Heart of Darkness, “The horror, the horror” Freudian joke to be made, but my English major days are over, so I leave it to you). The woman who did it was very nice and kind and as gentle as she could be, and kept me talking, which was distracting. I can’t imagine it’s a very fun job, giving bikini waxes. Expecially when Joe pointed out later that day that my undies had little stains from a long-ago period. That’s pretty classy. Don’t tell my mom I wasn’t wearing clean underwear. What if a bus had hit me on the way home?

Passed up Perks April 20, 2007

So, for work, I have the opportunity on Monday to go to a firing range and shoot over 25 different kinds of guns, from AK-47s to historic muskets. For work! I would get paid to shoot off giant guns. Despite my pacifist tendencies, I think it sounds superfriggincool.

However, I have decided not to, since I am trying to focus on growing a life rather than learning about many different ways to take one using giant guns.  One more way that this pregnancy makes life boring.  First and foremost, the big Appointment is on Monday, where we hear the heartbeat, and make sure that we have passed the 12-week mark safely. I can’t imagine trying to reschedule at this point, and telling them it’s because I have to go shoot assault rifles. Then, there’s the whole really loud noise and huge kickback business. I’m sure that with the kickback somehow I would first break my nose and then overcompensate and then spear my gut, neither of which can be good. There must be some website somewhere dedicated to helping women figure out the safest way to go to the firing range when they’re pregnant, but I just don’t want that on my browsing history.

The other perk I’m passing up is the Wrigley skybox this year. That’s just because there’s a program that day, and I can’t go, but it makes me feel better to know that I won’t be missing the free beer, since I wouldn’t take advantage of it anyway. I will be going to the skybox in Sox park, which is probably nicer than the Wrigley skyboxes anyway (honestly, a sensory deprivation tank has more personality than a Wrigley skybox, I’m sad to say). And it’s on a day when the Sox play the Marlins — and after the season my Buckeyes have had with Florida, I’ll be glad to root against them. Even though I won’t be partaking in the free beer. Sigh. At least the dessert cart will be good.

Miracle (?) April 18, 2007

When Joe and I were in Ohio for Blosser’s wedding, we were sitting around with everyone at Mike and Rosy’s, and somehow the subject of birth being a miracle came up. Of course Joe quoted some comedian he heard say “Anything that happens 12 million times a day is NOT a f**ing miracle!” I can’t take JoeKim anywhere.  The face of Roberto, our Christian marriage counselor friend, was priceless.  Berto, along with my best friend, who has one child and one on the way, argued that indeed, growing a baby in your belly and giving birth is a miracle. I did not bring up the fact that one also grows a tapeworm in one’s belly. Bascially, the argument was over the definition of “miracle.” Joe feels that it’s overused — “A miracle cure,” A miracle shot at the buzzer,” etc. And, furthermore, the strict definition of miracle, according to Joe, is that which cannot be explained. Fetal development can be explained, and ergo, is not miraculous. But Julie and Berto argued that it is a miracle, because it is growing life, and growing a whole person from scratch, whether it can be explained or not.

But, you know, I’ve been thinking, and I’m not sure that there have to be two separate sides to this. And really, I think that’s one of the fundamental problems about this whole “science’s war on religion,” or “religion’s war on science,” depending on your take. I don’t think that the two negate each other, and if you believe in science, you can’t believe in religion, and vice versa.  Just because you can explain something, does that make it any less amazing? Thinking about an entire person being created from a couple of microscopic cells that all know what to do is pretty amazing. Just because the how is explainable, does that mean that the why a trivial question? Personally, I don’t think so, and I don’t think that things have to be so binary.

I remember once in a lit class in college, we were talking about the Scientific Revolution and its effects on literature.  Th eprofessor told us that basically, the Scientific Revolution was the beginning of the end of faith, because scientists and authors and everyone would see the way blood moved through the body and realize that it was all explainable.  I raised my hand and asked the question “wasn’t there anyone who, when they saw all this complicated stuff, actually was MORE convinced of their faith?”  Apparently not anyone who wrote anything worth reading.  Cyincs, all these great authors.  But I think I still feel that way i did when I asked that question.   The more I learn about how well everything works together, and how often it goes right, the more I think it’s pretty incredible.

When I worked at the planetarium, plenty of people came in to argue religion versus science, and every time, I tried to tell them that I didn’t think that the two had to be mutually exclusive. But society, or politics, or something, seems to have set it up that way for some reason. I think that the miracle discussion is the same thing. Just because we have big words for it, growing a person from scratch is a pretty amazing thing. I mean, I’m always surprised when my luggage ends up at the right place, and creating a baby has a few more steps than getting a suitcase from O’Hare to Philly.  Miracle or science, it all seems like just a question of semantics to me.

I do think that often, people in the “miracle” camp can be a little species-ist. Is a kitten a miracle? A baby pig? A dandelion? I don’t know that people who would argue that human babies are miracles necessarily think about it, or what they’d say if they did. But, I guess I wouldn’t mind people thinking that kittens and pigs and dandelions are miracles. Hopefully they’d treat kittens, pigs, dandelions, and everything else along the way a little bit better.

Renovation procrastination April 16, 2007

You may have noticed that I haven’t really said anything about our home renovation. That’s because nothing has happened.   The architect is a pretty good friend of ours, which is good, because we get a “friend price,” and we get to bug him with questions and changes and not feel like jerks, plus he’s a good guy and a great architect.  But it’s bad because I come home during the “meeting” that Joe is having with him, and find them at the dining room table with a bottle of good tequila between them.  In my experience, tequila does not expedite things — at least not things that have to do with home improvement.  Quite the opposite, in most cases, I believe.
You may wonder how we can be so incredibly slow at this.  Allow me to give you a glimpse into the life of a procrastinator.  Today is April 16.  Tax day, no?  Joe worked on our taxes this weekend, and got them (mostly) done.  I emailed him today asking if he had sent them, and don’t they have to be postmarked today?  His response:

“Taxes can be postmarked tomorrow, because of Emancipation Day, which is a holiday in D.C. today.”

Of course.  So, now we will come home late from a fundraising dinner (Happy birthday, Shakesepare!) and he will have to fill in a few lines on our tax forms and send them.  It was probably more effort to find out about Emancipation Day than just send them today.  Sigh.

Fear and Loathing in my Uterus, part 3 April 15, 2007

My biggest fear right now is that something will be “wrong” with my baby. Having a baby and all the things that come with that for the rest of my life is a little hard to get my mind around. But having a baby with Down Syndrome or something else is very easy to imagine. And, especially since I had cramping early on, and my hormones didn’t double like they were supposed to, I’m convinced that my body was trying to get rid of an unhealthy pregnancy, but couldn’t. I know that if something is wrong, the doctor will say “It’s not your fault.” But what if it is? What if those 2 O’Douls last month did something? What if I danced too much at Blosser’s wedding? What if the salycilic acid in my face cream is too much and absorbed through my skin and will cause a birth defect? In my head, the possibilities are endless. Why didn’t I move away to the country as soon as I started trying to get pregnant, away from all the industrial fumes and pollution? That can’t be good, right?Maybe I need one of those things from the Sharper Image that filters all your air. Or a WWII gas mask. I bet I’d get my own seat on the el every morning.

Joe and I have talked about the possibility of having a child with Down Syndrome or worse. We both know people who have severe developmental disabilities, and whom you just never know if they’re happy or sad or in pain, and it’s a difficult life to imagine. I can’t imagine having a regularly-abled child, and all the worry and guilt and hope that goes along with that, and having a child where I don’t even know if I’m making him or her happy, or causing her pain, breaks my heart. It’s a selfish worry, I know. Just because *I* can’t tell if a child is happy doesn’t mean they aren’t. People do exist outside of me. I just don’t know how NOT to worry about that.

A part of me says that Joe and I would be good parents to have a disabled child. we have friends with disabilities, and while we don’t know a lot about disability, I think that we have more of a knowledge than many other folks who don’t have any experience to people with disabilities. I’ve attended conferences on disability, and try to keep up with research. One of our best friends, Sandy Dukat, has won Olympic medals in Salt Lake City and Torino, and would be an amazing resource and role model for us. The University of Illinois at Chicago has one of the only (maybe the only?) Department of Disability and Human Development, which also would be a great resource just around the corner, not to mention the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago. But then, I think about how I’m already worried about being too selfish to have children. Can I really be a big enough person to have a child that requires more care, maybe more care forever, and not be bitter, not be jealous of others, not be petty? I don’t know if I can. I guess no one ever knows for sure until they have to.

Joe had a great perspective on things one night. He’d been talking things over with a friend, and the more he talked about it, the more he realized it we very much the same situation as when we took in Wilson, the stray cat we adopted. Wilson is a great cat, super friendly and loving. But, after adopting him, we found out he has FIV and FeLV, so he has to stay sequestered from our other cats, and will probably live only 2 years, at the most. Joe said that maybe having a baby is the same, in a lot of ways. You never know quite what you’ll get, but just as we can’t imagine not having Wilson around to purr and rub and sit on our laps, we’d get so much happiness from our baby that it wouldn’t matter. Joe feels that maybe Wilson showed up in our path for a reason, so that we can learn these things on a smaller scale to help us deal with the fears on a larger one. It’s definitely a helpful perspective. And when you have a cat purring loudly on your lap, looking at you with contented kitty eyes, it’s difficult to imagine that life could be too horrible. Anytime I get a little too stressed out about all this, I just get some kitty therapy. Hopefully after we get the results of the amnio back, whenever that all happens, we can breathe a sigh of relief, or start reading up and learning as much as we can to be the best parents possible.

Time to go sit on the couch with Wilson.

Fear and Loathing in My Uterus, part 2 April 12, 2007

So, after being worried that I won’t have a baby, my second big concern is…having a baby. It just so much to think about. I mean, what if my kid grows up to be a serial killer, or Ann Coulter, or just plain mean and not even famous? Is there any way to make sure that you kid grows up nice? I go back and forth between feeling guilty for bringing a child into the world as it is, and feeling responsible for making sure that child makes the world better. I just finished reading A Long Way Gone, about a child soldier in Sierra Leone (I’m sure you’ve seen it — they sell it in Starbucks, for heaven’s sake). As I read it, I went from thinking “I can never have kids with the world this way” to shaking my fist at my growing belly and saying “You better do something about all this!” It just seems like either your kids will be part of the problem (which won’t be good), or part of the solution (which will be frustrating for them). In reality, I suppose my child will be like most of us — kind of in the middle, doing what we can, when we think of it, to the extent that we feel we need to. It’s not such a bad way to be, I suppose.

The other scary part of having a baby is that I have this horrible feeling that it means my life will be over. Kaput. Put a fork in me, I’m done. No more movies (Ok, so I never go to movies. And, sady, after not going to see a movie for a year or so, the one I chose to see recently was Reno 911. Please don’t judge). No more happy hour after work. I think about our travels toIndia , to China, to Japan, to Korea, to Spain, and I’m really glad we had them.  Because I don’t think we’ll get more.  Just trips to see “The Wiggles on Ice” or something.  And, even deeper than that, it means that the rest of my life will be lived for someone else.  I don’t get to be selfish any more.  I don’t get to say “I don’t feel like it,” or “I’ll do it later.”  I don’t get to eat ramen for dinner because I’m too lazy to make something else.  Babies can’t live on ramen…..can they?  If they can, please someone tell me.  Maybe they make baby ramen that has strained peas in it or something.  Maybe it’s the weird pregnancy hormones talking.

Fear and Loathing in my Uterus, part 1 April 11, 2007

Pregnancy week 11

Renovation week -5

Right now, I feel like I’m at the nexus of several fears about pregnancy. It’s early enough that I’m worried I won’t have a baby. But it’s far enough along that I’m worried “Holy shit, I’m having a baby!” And then, it’s almost time to get an amnio, so I’m worried that I’ll have a baby, but the baby will have something wrong.

Since I had one miscarriage back in December, and had such awful cramps early on in this one (I know some cramps are normal. These were NOT normal), my first fear is that something will go wrong and I’ll lose this pregnancy, too. A friend at work stayed home yesterday because his wife just had a miscarriage, and I thought to myself “Am I a big heartless awful person, since I actually came to work on the day I was having my miscarriage?” Does that make me un-maternal? Should I have been at home, mourning a loss?

When our friend Brodie gave us condolances on the miscarriage, I told him that it had been early enough that I hadn’t felt like it was really a baby, but more like the chance at having a baby. So, I didn’t feel like I had lost a baby, but just our chance at that time. He just looked at me and said “Wow, Kel, you really are a democrat.”

But, this time it’s starting to feel like a baby. I’m trying not to get too invested until my next appointment in a couple weeks, but it’s hard not to. At the last appointment, when I got my due date (Oct. 26), you could start to see little arms and legs. It actually looked like a baby, instead of a pinto bean. Albeit a very strange baby, but a baby nonetheless. And, maybe this sounds callous, but if something goes wrong this time, my clock is ticking. The odds aren’t getting any better for me to get pregnant and keep pregnant. It means another couple months of waiting and then the trying and hoping and getting excited (but not too excited) and telling people and not telling people.

I want to call the doctor today and make them move my appointment to tomorrow! But, I will wait, and after the 23rd, it will feel great to tell people, and one fear will be — not quite gone, but shoved to the back of the queue.

Beginnings April 11, 2007

What would possess anyone to both renovate a home from the 1920s and have a baby at the same time?  I have no idea.  Perhaps a desire to live on the edge and see what effects asbestos and lead paint flakes have on a newborn.  Perhaps a disdain for any expendable income for the rest of one’s life.  Perhaps just poor timing.  Whatever the reason, we are doing it, and it should be an interesting ride.

As of right now, I am about 11 1/2 weeks pregnant.  We haven’t told many people, but will soon.  The baby has been in the works for just over a year, and the renovation has been in the works since we bought the house 3 years ago.  The best thing about being pregnant is that it will give everyone a new question to ask besides “have you started work on your house yet?”