Bundle of WHAT?

Pregnancy after miscarriage is terrifying. Terrifying for your baby’s health, your own health, and sometimes your sanity. Its like every minute of every day, if you don’t feel pregnant you’re thinking, “OK, when is the other foot going to drop?” And when you feel so nauseous you can’t stand it you’re like, “Yay, we’re both safe.This totally sucks, but we’re both good. Please knock me out and wake me when it’s over. Yay, babies!”

Pregnancy in general is particularly filled with weird catch twenty-twos like this. Here’s another one:

Husband says, “Hey, are these bigger? Your boobs look great!”
Wife, “Thanks! I know – super psyched. Touch them and YOU DIE.”

Yeah, that’s fun.

And forget eating for two (which according to the prego-sphere has been pretty much debunked), you will be sleeping for two. Sleep will be more important to you than maybe it ever has been in your entire life. But you may be surprised to find out that even when you try, when you are there, in the bed, ready and willing (to sleep – come on – stay with me), you may not always be able to get it. I call it pregnancy insomnia. It may or may not be a medically documented thing. Either way, it sucks.

Did I mention nausea? And doesn’t anyone else find it particularly odd how all pregnancy websites say practically the same thing (Plagiarism anyone?), and how they are always comparing the size of your developing fetus to various fruits and vegetables? More on this later, I guess.

I know plenty of people who don’t want kids. I used to be surprised when I learned a friend of mine didn’t want kids, but never judged them for it. A lot of people will say things like, “OMG, you don’t want kids? That is so selfish.” To that I say, excuse me, WHAT? How can you be selfish towards a non-existent being. You can’t. Doesn’t even make sense. You can do nothing to or toward a non-existent being because it doesn’t, isn’t, being here, no. Alright? So let’s let that one go.

Now that I do have a child, what I would say to those friends telling me they don’t want kids has changed a little. Instead of, “Oh, OK.” and being a little confused, I would say “Then absolutely don’t have them. Oh, and make sure your partner is on the same page, cause this sort of thing isn’t really negotiable…” I can personally attest to having witnessed several relationships caught in this predicament, where one partner wanted kids and the other didn’t. Each believed that, eventually, their partner would come around. But you know what? Inevitably, none of these relationships worked out. If you are in this situation, let me save you some time and heartache: you may love him/her, but if you don’t agree on having/not having kids it’s not gonna work out. It’s OK. Move along. Beyond the physical toll of growing a human in one’s own body and living (hopefully) with all the baby-related body changes and stuff, kid’s are a huge life commitment that you can’t return when you get buyer’s remorse (which I am the WORST at – buyer’s remorse, not wanting to return my kid). Abrupt ending to this section. Moving on to the baby procrastinators:

To that other group of you who are like, “Yeah we want kids … in a few years.” but you are like 30 years old already, I would say something quite different. I remember being about ten years old at my pediatrician’s office. I was probably there for a school shot or something, and the doctor, this big shouldered, stern, Pacific Islander looking man, definitely a slightly scary authority figure, looked down at me and wagged his index finger from side to side,

Now don-e you go doin wha tose othas ah doin now. Waitin, bein so old. You-a body is spose to have chilren from eighteen through twenties. Don-e you go waitin till 30. Thas too much stress on your body. Tssk. Tssk.

I remember how he closed his eyes and shook his large, caramel, cheekbones the size of little kneecaps, head. This was before Teen Mom was on Cable TV. You get the picture. My maternal clock was set in stone by my pediatrician at ten years old. Don-e go waitin. Sure, women ‘been havin babies for many many years. But you know what? It’s not always so easy.

Plus, why would you want to put off that unfortunate combination of a heightened sense of smell and the need to urinate more frequently? The resulting, completely unfair and unsavory, pee-fog encapsulation you face during your excessive trips to the bathroom is a right of passage to be eagerly anticipated! Oh, but brush your teeth with caution, your gag and puke reflex is WAY better than it’s ever been before in your life. Happy trails.

* Erik would like to endorse this announcement that we are pregnant again. He is super excited. I am super crazy, sometimes freaked out, sometimes elated, most of the time cranky, or nauseous (why do they put so much darn Iron in those baby vitamins?!), excited too. I have not gone to the doctor yet, but have an appointment set for July. Thanks for your well wishes!

So, the next person to call me in tears worried sick that I’ll lose this baby too WILL get F*bombed to their face and taken out into the street for personal reasons. Unless, you know, I come to my senses and react better than that first. But, I am pregnant, so you never know. 

For those who have actual tangible concerns, we do appreciate these, as we appreciate you. For example, some people have expressed a concern that my blood type could cause complications. I want to assure you that my O negative blood will not be, and has not been, a cause for miscarriage. Throughout most of pregnancy, the mother’s blood and the baby’s blood are kept completely separate. There is no risk of blood mixing until the third trimester (and then only because of delivery / being physically passed from the womb, and man can that be bloody, type things). For this reason, nurses have an awesome super huge needle they stick you in the butt with, full of Rhogam, to prevent blood complications.

(Cue strange memory of coming home from high school one day to announce to my mother that I found out my blood type in Biology class. “It’s O-, and negative RH factors only appear at a rate of about 15% in Caucasians. Isn’t that cool? I’m so special.” My mother began to cry. Literally. She had good reason to, because she knew what that had meant for bearing children, and I was clueless. But, now we have Rhogam. Thank goodness.) 

For anyone else out there that may be RH negative, I want to let you know as far as the Rhogam shot goes: 1) Don’t look at the needle, 2) choose the butt, not the shoulder, and 3) it’s really not that bad, I have had the shot two or three times now, but the butt must be a really great place for a shot cause I hardly felt it any of these times, and my butt is not even that big, so… 

X is up from his nap – got to go!

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