Jack Bauer and I… October 23, 2007

Both have 24 hours before all hell breaks loose! But if you made a TV show of the last 24 hours leading up to my c-section, I don’t think it would get too many Neilsen households. Last night cnsisted of several crying jags over the course of a few hours, and my telling Joe that I had decided I didn’t really want a baby and could we just give it to some friends. And then I cried because I lost a recipe for chicken stew. I seem to be very inclined to feel terrible about myself over the smallest things — I told Joe that it seems to be just my psyche getting ready to feel constantly inadequate once the baby comes and I have no frigging clue what I’m doing.

Today I have been more stable, and have managed to remain tear-free so far. I’m a mixture of excitement and fear and denial (I’ll still watch the Penn State-OSU game this Saturday. Sure. With beer).

The phone has been ringing off the hook with well-wishes, which is great, but I’m just not up to it. I keep telling myself I’ll call people back, but I’m pretty sure I won’t.

And, people keep giving me helpful hints on getting the baby to turn. I know they’re being nice, but really, I am not going to do any of them. And, Joe said he’s glad he watched them do the version, so he could see how hard they were pushing to try nd get the kid turned around. He said that once he saw that, he realized that a few dips in the swimming pool or sitting in the curling cat pose wouldn’t have done much. And, whether that’s true or not, it’s too late now!

We go in tomorrow at 11:00, and the surgery is at 1pm. My best friend Julie just had her baby yesterday (congratultions Julie!), so now her little Luke will have a playmate soon.

There’s wireless in all the rooms at the hospital, so I’m hopeful I can keep you posted on everything soon. Keep us in your thoughts!

I just realized… October 22, 2007

That my pregnancy walk is very closely akin to George Jefferson when he’s feeling full of himself.

The end is near October 21, 2007

Welcome to my last Saturday without a baby. Holy moly. I actually think I’ll really miss being pregnant. For all that I complain about it, it isn’t really all that bad, and actually has some perks. And, really, even though just about every decision I make is for the baby, being pregnant still makes things all about ME. Am I tired? I should lie down — I’m pregnant. Am I hungry? I should eat whatever I want — I’m pregnant. Oh, Joe, could you finish the dishes? I’m pregnant.

And I even feel like just in general, in public, I have special status in some way. Like I’m somehow almost untouchable (in the Elliot Ness way, not in the Indian caste way). People give me the benefit of the doubt. People are deferential. I feel like people think I’m a nice person for no other reason than that I’m pregnant. I could be totally wrong about that, but that’s the way it feels. Women smile at me in a knowing sort of way and let me go through the door first. Men make sure I don’t lift anything heavier than a sheet of paper. I feel — dare I say it? — entitled. when I cross the street and a car tries to turn, I stick my belly out as far as I can, as if to say “You wouldn’t hit a pregnant lady, would you??” It’s not a good attitude, necessarily, but it’s kind of nice to know what that feels like. Is this the way that some people feel all the time? Wow. I think it’s a good thing that it will be finite for me. It could get ugly.

And really, it’s been a super easy pregnancy — no real morning sickness, no swelling, and even now I’m not incredibly uncomfortable. I can still walk the 1/2 mile each way to and from the el and work, I can still wear all my shoes. Can even put my socks on by myself most of the time! So, to have such little discomfort, but still have people treat me so nicely — I’ll kind of miss that.

Soon, I won’t be this special person anymore after Tuesday. I’ll be somebody’s mom, and it will immediately cease to be about me at all. Forever. I’ll just be a regular lady without a big belly, and no one will get up on the el to give me a seat, no matter how bad my day has been, or say “no, no, no — let me get that.” I’ll be the one doing everything for someone else. So I’m really trying to enjoy being pregnant. If someone treats me with deference, instead of feeling guilty, I make sure I smile and say thank you instead. I’m really trying to remember what it feels like to have a baby moving around inside me. I thought it would be creepy, but it’s really pretty cool, even when I can see my belly moving around. It’s weird how that’s a neat thing, when describing it sounds so oogie in some ways.

Joe is out right now with some friends, having a last hurrah. As jealous as I am (my last hurrah was the Superbowl in February, for heaven’s sake), I can’t really begrudge him one last night out with the boys. Especially because with a c-section, he’ll be doing the lion’s share of everything for quite a while. Like the fact that we’re doing cloth diapers and our washer and dryer are downstairs, and I won’t be able to go up and down stairs for about 6 weeks. So, I suppose a few drinks with the guys is understandable. Heaven knows I’d be doing the same thing if I could. Instead, I’ll drink and Izze and watch The Meaning of Life (Part I: The Miracle of Birth) and have a good laugh, and try to enjoy just being pregnant, being alone, and being able to watch an entire movie from start to finish. After Tuesday, all bets are off.

Get the lead out October 19, 2007

Today, JoeKim had a lead paint inspector come by to check our house.  We were pretty sure we have lead paint, since the house is from 1922 and all.  We were especially worried about this back porch/sunroom thing where there are brick walls and the paint is all flaking off, which is bad.  I’ve been wanting to strip the walls and take out the carpeting (carpeting?  in a sunroom?  Really?), but Joe wouldn’t let me because he was worried about lead paint.  I thought he was being overly cautious.  Silly me.  As soon as we closed the door behind the guy, Joe said “I’ll get online tonight and see how much the asking price should be for the house.  You call the realtor and set up an appointment to put it on the market.  I’ll have the cats euthanised, and you talk to the hospital about the lung transplants and full body blood transfusion.”  We may have overreacted a tad.

Turns out we have lead paint everywhere.  On all the windows, on all the doorframes.  The walls are better, which apparently they usually are the lead paint guy said.  But pretty much everywhere else.  Fan-tastic.  And, pregnant women apparently absorb lead at a higher rate than just regular folks.  And, it can cause all kinds of fetal developmental problems.  Sigh.

The sunroom is definitely a problem, and so the main entrance and exit I have been using for the house for 3.5 years, where the kitties sit in the window, where we keep the rice and the potatoes, has lead paint flaking off all the walls and getting tracked all over the house.  Sigh.

The good thing is that we’re getting it remediated now, before this child can walk around, lick the floor, put things in his or her mouth, chew on the doorframes, etc.  And, knowing is better than just sticking our heads in the sand.  But this is just one more example of things that, when it was just us, we thought “Oh, a little lead.  We can take it,” but when the fruit of your loins is involved, suddenly everything takes on this huge significance.  I can’t even begin to imagine what else will be like this.  Milk and growth hormones, detergent and allergens, tables and sharp corners — the list seems like it will be endless.

I feel especially bad for Joe, because he was so sad about it, and seems to feel as though he has failed in his manly directive of protecting his family.  I try to remind him that we have a lovely home, a fridge that can’t fit any more food, hot running water, an XBox 360, more books than bookshelves, etc., and he is most of why we have that.  We have so many things.  We just also have lead paint.  But not for long.  Soon, our sunroom will look like the house where ET was living when the scientists all came in to investigate.  And we’ll get windows replaced.  The worst part is that the lead guy said that the best thing we can do is keep the house clean, so that all the dust and stuff doesn’t sit around and get tracked everywhere.  “Keep the house clean,” he says, all nonchalant.  As if we keep the house clean NOW.  I’m trying to figure out a way that we can hook up a mop to the baby’s walker or something, and turn it loose around the house.  Or maybe give the cats a lot of static cling every day so that all the dust sticks to them, and then take them outside and shake them.

At least the inspector was, in Joe’s words “easy on the eyes.”  I was expecting a large, older man with ill-fitting pants.  However, this was a young slender gent with great hair and a winning smile.  Who has now seen the pile of dirty clothes in my bedroom and the cat furballs in the corners of the kitchen.  Oh well.

And then, on my way out the door, I tripped and fell and ripped the knee in my pants.  The same pants I just bought last week because I ruined my other maternity khakis by spilling cranberry juice all over them while I was on the phone with our pastor so I couldn’t even curse.  So now I have brain and nerve damage, a fetus with developmental issues, and ripped pants.  But something tells me that after Tuesday, I will have bigger fish to fry.

Happy Birthday, JoeKim October 17, 2007

Well, it’s one week until D-day (or I guess I should say “C-day”), and it’s JoeKim’s birthday. So, I got him the gift that keeps on giving.

Porn.

I figure I’ll be out of commission for 6 weeks at least, and even then, I can’t imagine that I will be in the mood for romance (or any seamier derivation thereof) with 3 hours of sleep a night. So, I’m going to help him help his own cause. I mean, I pass 3 adult bookstores on my way to the el every evening, so I should put their convenience to good use. A co-worker came with me, ostensibly because she felt that I shouldn’t go alone, but she confided in me that actually she just wanted to go and would never have the chutzpah to go on her own, and when I told her I was going, just wanted to see what it was like. We picked the most well lit of the three, with cheery “Happy Halloween” decorations on the door. Like people might go trick or treating there or something. It was fairly innocuous, the only skeevy part being the booths in the back where you have to buy tokens to get in. Al the preview booths were full for the entire time we were there. “Just don’t touch anything.” I told my colleague. But, the saleswoman was very nice and helpful, and went so far as to tell me about the adult video sale in progress. And they say that customer service is dying.

It was pretty fun to waddle into an adult bookstore with my giant belly. Somehow I feel like I kind of have immunity, like people give me the benefit of the doubt. “Look at that pervert going into the adult bookstore — oh, wait, she’s pregnant. She must not be a pervert.” I don’t know why I feel like that, or if people really think that way, but that’s what happens in my mind. And it was also funny to me to go to the hippie mom store and buy more earth mother cloth diapers and know that I was putting them next to “Jenna Loves Brianna” in my bag. I had a nice secret smile about that one.

This is probably also the best day to recount all the great things that Joe does. How he sings and talks to the baby all the time, how he compliments me profusely every day and thanks me for being a good mom, how he never gets annoyed when I complain for the umpteenth time about not having a beer for 9 months, how he makes me breakfast (and sometimes dinner) in bed, how he pays attention to how tired I am and takes over whatever I’m doing so that I can go lie down, how he’s reading The Essential C-Section Guide on the el every morning and night. And how I really realized during the version, when I was about to pass out because my blood pressure was so low, and he came in the room, how wonderful and nice it is to have someone you can look at when you’re about to pass out, and know that you can trust them to make it better. It was really scary at first to know I would depend on Joe so much for things because of pregnancy and a baby. Now, it’s just a realy comforting feeling, which is a nice change.

So, happy birthday, JoeKim. Enjoy the porn.

Ha ha October 13, 2007

So, the other night Joe and I were talking about having the baby and all, and he said “I’ve been thinking about the best way to get to the hospital.  Is that silly?”  I replied that it is not at all silly — even though it won’t be like 2am and I’m having horrible contractions (one hopes), we’ll still be a little panicky, I’m sure.  We’ve been taking Lake Shore, so I thought we’d just take that.

“Do you have any ideas about the best way?”  I asked.

“I was thinking the Brown Line?”  was the reply.

At first I thought he was kidding.  Then I realized he wasn’t.  then I gave him The Look.

“I’m going in your blog again, aren’t I?”

Um, yeah.

October 23rd October 12, 2007

That is when I will have a baby.  At 1pm Central time.  Yipe!  I think that overall, this is a very good thing for us.  I mean, we’re such procrastinators that if we were doing this the old fashioned way, we’d just sit around watching football going “I’m sure it won’t be this week, right?  We don’t need to get diapers yet.”  This way, we have a deadline, so that we know when we have to be ready.  It’s hard to imagine the car ride over to the hospital, though.  That seems weird.  I was thinking that maybe hospitals could make scheduled c-sections mimic the surprise and stress of labor by just calling you randomly at 2am and saying “We have a spot for you.  It’s time!  Come in now!”  so that you have to do the whole sleepy crazy driving and gathering of last-minute stuff.

Maybe not.

Baby, Version 1.0 October 11, 2007

No dice on the version.  This kid is stubborn!  Here is the update I sent to a couple friends.  I’m a little bruised from IVs, epidurals, and heavy pushing on my belly, but none the worse for wear, really.  Here’s the update I sent.

Just wanted to give you all the update.  My version (the thing where
they grab the baby from the outside and try to turn it so it’s head
down) was scheduled for 10:30 this morning.  So, first of all, it
didn’t work, and the baby is still facing the wrong way.  Bother.  So
I’ll schedule a c-section for the week of Oct. 21 (It could be SD’s
birthday, Jen!)

the full story:  They called us around 9am to say that they were
really backed up with women in labor, so they didn’t know when they
could fit me in, so just to wait at home until they called.  So, we
waited.  The worst part was that I couldn’t eat for 6 hours before the
procedure, so I had gotten up at 4:30 am to make an egg sandwich (I
have never before made an egg sandwich at 4:30 am stone sober), and
ate that.  Thank goodness!  I still couldn’t eat until after the
procedure, or drink anything, either, even though it was postponed.
They had to assume that there might be a c-section, so I couldn’t eat
the whole day, since everything was in limbo.  Ugh!  I called the
hospital again at 2:30, and they called me back to say come in.  So,
we got there around 3:15, and got into a room at about 4:30 or so.

It was a little more of a procedure than I thought it would be.  I had
to get an IV (which they had to do 3 times because I was so dehydrated
they couldn’t find my vein), and an epidural (which they had a hard
time putting in because apparently my spine is slightly curved).
Putting in the IV made me all sweaty and lightheaded, since they had
to move it and poke around a lot, and it hurt, which is never fun.
And then the medicine from the epidural made my blood pressure and
heartrate drop.  Joe came back into the room (they sent him out while
they were putting in the epidural), and looked at the monitor, and my
blood pressure was 80/50, and my heartrate was at 54.  I was all kinds
of woozy and nauseous and seeing spots.  But, they had some kind of
medicine that they put in my IV, and that worked pretty fast to bring
things back to normal.  The epidural worked great, and I didn’t feel a
thing during the version.

They were finally ready to do the version at about 6:45.  The version
itself was exactly what it sounded like  it would be — 2 people stood
on each side of me, and one found the head and the other the butt
(they used an ultrasound machine, too), and they just grabbed and
pushed.  They were really giving it their all — grunting, leaning
into it, etc.  They pushed as hard as they could without their feet
leaving the ground, Joe said.  They could get the head to move down
quite a bit, but the butt wouldn’t move.  I think this kid has
inherited my hips.  The first time they tried, they checked the baby’s
heartrate, and it was pretty low.  The doctor said “we’ll give it one
more minute, and if it doesn’t come up, we’re going to the OR.”  Yipe!
Luckily, it came up.  They tried again, but again, no luck.  The baby
seems pretty happy right where it is.

So, then they had to monitor me and the baby for 2 hours afterwards.
We were finally allowed to leave around 9:15.  I looked like I should
be on suicide watch, because I was all hungry and stressed and weepy,
with bandages on both wrists where they had tried the IV.  But, we
ordered a big huge pizza on the way home.  When it arrived, it was
totally smushed with all the cheese stuck to the top of the box, so
JoeKim sent it back, and we are awaiting a new one.  I cannot wait to
pig out on a giant pizza.    Then, I am going to go to bed and sleep
like a rock!

So, I’ll let you know when the C-section is.  It might already be
scheduled, because the dr. was going to do it, but we didn’t get a
chance to talk to her before we left.  We’ll know the date for sure
tomorrow (Wednesday).

Hope that you guys are all doing well.  Thanks for all the
well-wishes.  What a bummer that this baby has my sense of direction
and Joe’s stubbornness.  If only it were the other way around….

Kel

Hurry Up and Wait October 10, 2007

The version was scheduled for today at 10:30am.  However, we got a call at 9am saying they were running late, so just to wait at home for them to call us when they have an opening.  As of 2:00, we’re still waiting.  Sigh.  The worst part is, I can’t eat or drink anything, because they have to proceed under the assumption that they might have to do a c-section.  So I wasn’t supposed to eat anything for 6 hours before the version.  Luckily, I ended up waking up at 4am (with my pee schedule, odds were pretty good), and made myself an egg sandwich.  It was the first time I’d made an egg sandwich at 4am completely sober.  But, it’s a good thing I did.  Who knows when I’ll get to eat again.  I’m dreaming of a giant bloody hamburger from Jury’s for dinner.  Mmm……

Fertile cynicism October 5, 2007

We just started getting our subscription to The Economist (JoeKim thought that Newsweek wasn’t good enough. Go figure).  It might be bad timing, getting all this news about how awful the world is and the like, right before having a baby.  It just gets depressing to think that either our child will be a part of the problem (and we’ll have to love him or her anyway, of course, all the while being “those” parents at Thanksgiving who try to convert our child to the “correct” politics and beliefs, or shake them out of apathy or something), or a part of the solution (in which case, it seems like a lifetime of fighting for small, tiny victories, and lots of disappointment).

But, when I get really worried about it, I read a poem that my dad wrote for me when I was little:

KEL
I stood on a planet out in space
And watched the earth come up.
Through my tiny telescope
I saw the day begin.

In the marketplace,
Merchants smiled charmingly
And cheated the people.
In the capitol,
Politicians looked serious and concerned
And betrayed the people.
In the universities,
Professors spoke in polysyllables
And misled the people.
In the pulpits,
Priests gazed piously upon their flocks
And took advantage of the people.
And in the citadels,
Generals spoke of patriotism
And duty
And honor
And made plans
To enslave the people.

God! I was glad to get away!
The earth is sick, stupid,  cruel.
I turned away in disgust.

KEL
(Continued)
Soon it was night.
Peering once again
Through my shiny telescope,
By chance
I saw a little girl
Three
(And one-half!)
Years old.
Her mommy
Tucked her in.
Nighty-night Mommy,
She said.
The grownups
Would take care of things.
She would wake up
Tomorrow
And play with her teddy bear.
She smiled
And went to sleep.

I jumped in my rocket ship
And got back to earth
Just in time for breakfast.

Maybe it’s exactly the cynics who SHOULD be having the children.  It’s the people who want to fight, but just get too disenchanted to fight any more who need to have a child to realize how important it is to make the world better.  We’re the ones who have to take care of things, and our children just trust us blindly to do so.  The people who don’t give a rat’s ass are already too far gone, and the ones who see everything with rose-colored glasses aren’t really much help.  But the people who see the world for what it is, with all its beauty and its faults, and strive to make it better — they’re the ones who should be having the children, so the parents can have the inspiration to continue the fight, when they’re exhausted and despondent.  And help their children realize the importance of those same struggles.

At least, that’s what I tell myself when I get depressed about it all.  I sure hope it’s true.