PheMOMena

So the ride on a gurney towards the operating room seemed so long, even though it was just down the hall. Maybe it was the hellacious contraction I was having on the way? Possibly. Hubs had a designated chair in the hallway. The nurses rolled me right by him. He was dressed in scrubs-- he looked like a new resident on Grey's Anatomy-- nervous and kind of sick. On we roll. One big door opens into a freezer type room. Seriously, it was so cold in there. To my right (which was the back of the room) there was a little baby warmer, a scale and all the jazzy shit that babies need when they are cut out of you. To my left there was the "crucifix table" which was for me. Ok, I am not a complete heathen, that table really did look like a cross. What the hell did I sign up for? What was about to go down in this room? Ma'am? Sir? Is this thing on? I got some help being transferred from my gurney to the crucifix and I was introduced to the two anesthesiologists that would be inj...

Ah, nine days ago, my husband and I were blessed with a small version of ourselves. She came into the world on her own terms-- who doubted that would be her process? Certainly not me! Baby K has rocked our very stable world for the past nine days. Who knew that such a small person could control two big people, one cat and three dogs? For those interested, below is part one of her (crazy) birth story. Part two is coming soon... along with the adventures of being a mom. Holy crap, I am someone's MOM. Jeez. I knew early on that I wanted to deliver by c-section. Often, when other preggos would discuss their birth plans, I would just remain quiet because I did not want to hear the bullshit status quo answers like "your body was made for this (vaginal delivery)" or "don't let your doctor talk you into a (horrible) c-section" or (my [non] favorite) "don't you want to KNOW that you can deliver your baby like women have been for thousands of years?" ...

Ah, 4 am-- we meet again. Here we are, at the beginning of week 29, and my "miserably" factor has been amped up to 1,000. I cannot sleep. I don't make it through the night-- and I have tried. Every night for the last few weeks. Seriously, 11 more weeks of this... y'all. Today I watched my little brother play in a college basketball game. As usual, I was a little, um, animated. I was tired afterward, but kept hubs company on the car ride home. Baby K was squirming around in utero, making the car ride home very uncomfortable, so when we got home I hopped right out of my jeans and right into bed. It was 7:30pm. Don't judge me-- I did not go right to sleep. I told hubs that I wanted to try to stay awake until 10 pm, in the hopes of sleeping through the night. I think I made it to 9:30. I slept until 12:30 am. And here I am four hours later, listening to hubs and ALL the animals in the house breathe in sleep... deeply. I'm freaking jealous. I have updated my ba...

Week 26 and all the joy it brings, amirite? Here are a few reflections as I move through this week of fun filled runs to the bathroom and (well after) midnight foraging adventures in the kitchen. Glucose Test:  Yep, it sucked. I was thinking that maybe my sweet tooth and I would not be affected by that sickeningly sweet concoction, but I was wrong. Ugh.  So, let me tell y'all the real deets: at my last OB/GYN appointment I was given a choice of orange or fruit punch flavor. I chose fruit punch because, why not? I haven't tried out orange, but I imagine that it CANNOT be better or much different-- so I have concluded that both of these drinks taste like shit. So, you have 5 minutes to choke down this drink- and you CANNOT eat or drink after you have finished it. You have to remember the time you finished because 1 hour from then, you get a fantastic finger prick that will let you know if you have some form of gestational diabetes. Do I have to reiterate that I was not a fan ...

This probably should have been my very first post, so y'all would know exactly HOW I got suckered into this thing called pregnancy. But, truthfully, I am a little backwards sometimes, so the fact that it ISN'T my first post on this blog is kind of apropos. I find that since this pregnancy hasn't been all sugar and spice, I am... a complainer. Plus, I have ALWAYS said in the past (and my friends have reminded me) that I really wasn't the kind of person to have children. I don't really like kids. Well, ok-- I like being the cool older person/babysitter/auntie figure... and then I like leaving and going back to my home, which is lazy and silent (besides the dogs barking and the infrequent meows from the cat). So what made me want to give up my fantastic house silence for the hustle and bustle of having a kid?? The truth? I was plied with alcohol. Seriously. Picture it: Spring, 2014. I got a text message from one of my college buds-- she wanted to meet up for drinks a...

Last week, while my daughter was tapping out Morse code on my internal organs, my husband and I were discussing how to know when you are too old to become a FTP (first time parent).  I mean, in the beginning, I truly believed that we were (probably) too old to become parents. About a year into our marriage we had a very frank conversation about whether or not children were going to be a part of our lives. I decided... I mean, WE decided that we would try for a limited time and if it didn't happen for us in our timeframe then we would not have kids. It was all very cerebral. Very rational, which is kind of our thing. We sleep in on the weekends, we barely go out and party with our friends, a night on the town generally includes finishing laundry, buying take-out from our favorite Chinese restaurant and getting a movie from Redbox. We are not wild and crazy animals over here. Essentially, we are the epitome of old.  But I couldn't have some lame ass answer when having th...