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September 2008
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November 2008

Four, Three, Two Days

Yep. Still pregnant. TiVo has two more days to come out peacefully before we go in after him. (Comparison shot at 40 weeks from last time, although slightly more STRAIGHT-ON CLOSE-UP OH-THE-HORROR.) And yes! These were taken in the same mirror as every other belly shot I've taken over the past year. The completely different furniture? Yeah. I did that. It needed to be done. The itching and the leg twitching and the terrible, terrible screaming wouldn't stop until I could say that truly, we have officially rearranged the furniture in every damn room in the house. (Last night I had just upended both of our bedside endtables [the doors were opening the wrong way and each needed to be swapped to the other side, but of course that meant the contents needed to be swapped and while I was there I MIGHT AS WELL completely purge and reorganize them, I mean, really] when I realized that I was supposed to be meeting a bunch of bloggers who are here for the DC BlogHer mini-thing going on, which of course I didn't register for because hello! Still pregnant on October 13th? Fuck that idea and you and everything else in... Read more →

Five Days

I know that I am not exactly the perfect picture of grace and sunshine and joy right now, but I think, in light of everything going on in the world and our economy and financial infrastructure coming down around our ears, that even I was NOT enormously pregnant and scared out of my mind about my now multiple children's futures, I would still really want to punch these people. Although there's something in their super! excited! yaaaaaay banking! faces and their desperately clenched-up pile of hands that suggests that: 1) The guy on the far left knows, deep down, that he is straight-up FUCKED, 2) The woman next to him has already snapped like a damn rubber band, 3) The guy next to her is thinking very seriously about that window ledge outside of the conference room, 4) The woman on the far right has been medicating her terror with a steady shitload of Red Bulls. I am just saying. If there were ever a time to switch the stock photography to something more generically somber and banky -- a calculator and a spreadsheet, perhaps, or the all-purpose Dude In A Suit On A Cell Phone -- now would probably... Read more →

Six Days

The contractions started about an hour before my scheduled OB appointment time, conveniently enough. By the time I started paying attention (shut up, my mascara rolled behind the toilet so I was mighty preoccupied with the retrieval process for awhile), they were about 10 minutes apart. I announced this fact to the receptionist and was a little surprised by the SERIOUS TIZZY it threw everyone into -- like, for real? You take this sort of thing seriously? I barely notice anymore. I was hooked up the monitors for a non-stress test, and of course the contractions stopped dead the instant I hopped up on that table. The baby has a lovely, wonderfully perfect heart rate and I now have his pointy and incessant jabbiness charted out on paper. What we don't have is any cervix dilation or signs of actual labor. Surprise! (We also don't have a confirmation call from the hospital yet about my c-section or arrangements for me to come in and get pre-op blood work done. Which raised everyone's eyebrows because yeah, I should have gotten that call by now. I am now waiting for ANOTHER call from Office Manager Person today, who will be double- and... Read more →

Seven Days

Okay, okay. I've read the comments and while ya'll are just fascinated with the non-stop pregnancy talk, a bunch of you really want me to talk about my hair. OH MY GOD! Bangs! Revolutionary, life-changing bangs! I went back to a former stylist this weekend -- one who moved away and raised her prices and left me adrift in a sea of mediocre stylists who would examine my hair and listen to my requests and then proceed to cut yet another variation on Suburban Mom Does The Rachel -- and after examining my cut ("Eh.") and color ("Ew."), patted my head and promised to fix everything. And indeed, I can now put it up in an unwashed, stringy ponytail and have it not look like complete ass. I'm gonna look so totally awesome in my hospital photos! The bangs are sure to distract from the pothole-sized bags under my eyes! My body will look like a loaf of bread that got bagged under the milk and four cans of SpaghettiO's but hot damn, my highlights are RADIANT. Anyway. I think I have some furniture to rearrange, or something. Plus I'm hoping to talk Jason into taking me Ikea tonight for... Read more →

Eight Days

So hey! Let's tear the shit out of the house. And tomorrow a plumber is coming to tell me how much it will cost to completely fuck up the guest bathroom. Impeccable timing! We has it! (We also has a LOT of holes in the ceiling, suddenly. That's at least two more than I bargained for right there.) But! Properly centered light fixtures, new wall outlets, a motion-sensing lamp for the backyard and a ceiling fan that you can actually control using the WALL SWITCH instead of the SWITCH THAT IS BEHIND THE INSULATION UPSTAIRS IN THE ATTIC AND I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING ABOUT THAT are all essential things that you MUST have before they let you bring a baby home. Which we will be doing. Next week. At some point. After he is born. In eight days. Oh my God. He has a name, finally, at least. I SUPPOSE that's almost as important as wall outlets. MAYBE. Read more →

38 Weeks & Change, No Comment

Okay, maybe just one comment: False labor all damn weekend. One "oh shit, did my water just break?" moment (NO, BUT EW), countless motherfucking bend-over-and-yelp level contractions, still no actual -- you know -- BABY. I'm actually closer to 39 weeks now, but I forgot to post photos on Friday because I was busy taking a nap. Well, I TRIED to take a nap but the baby woke up and was kicking too hard for me to take a nap. He's really very pointy. I just lay on the couch and moaned instead, then ate an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's frozen yogurt, and dude. It's low fat and delicious but that is just not a good idea when your stomach has been displaced to a small area somewhere under your left boob. After that there was some more moaning. Anyway. I am in no mood for life right now, and my irritation at everything is irritating me even more than my very sore hip joints. Nine days to go. I know I'll miss his jabby elbows and the feel of his toes under my skin. I know I will. But right now the idea of holding him in... Read more →

Um. Never Mind.

They just called. I'm scheduled for October 15th at 2 pm, with my regular doctor, all is set and well. They still did not apologize, but hey, I wrote a bazillion angry paragraphs about them on the Internet. So...I win. I think. *cough* And yet the anxiety-related cookie consumption continues unabated. Hmm. Read more →

Possibly the Most Foul-Mouthed Entry I've Ever Published & That's Fucking Saying Something

Oh my God. Oh my FUCKING God. No, seriously. Sit down. Are you sitting? I have to tell you something. I will probably sputter and swear and knock over your coffee. Then I'm going to need you to stand up and shake me. Or slap me across the face. So I had an OB appointment this morning. Not with my regular OB, but the new doctor he just brought on as a partner -- you know, just in case I go into labor before my SCHEDULED C-SECTION and my doctor isn't available. I liked her! A lot! She took her time, asked a lot of questions, let me listen to the heartbeat for longer than usual and determined that the baby is indeed head-down (yay!), biggish but not 10 pounds biggish (yay-ish?), and my cervix is still closed (boo!). She asked if I had any questions, and at first I was all, noooo, and then I was all, oh yeah! About that SCHEDULED C-SECTION? On the 15th? Less than two weeks from now? Uh...what time am I supposed to show up for that, and stuff? The nurse looked at me kind of strangely. "Didn't call you about... Read more →

Probably Not One For the Baby Book

It just occurred to me that by this time in TWO WEEKS, as in TWO WEEKS from today, I will have another child, as in an infant living outside of my body, plus a three-year-old, in just TWO WEEKS, TWO WEEKS, and that's if I make it to the c-section date, which I might not, but either way, TWO WEEKS, holy fucking shit popsicle on a fucking stick. That is all. As you were. Read more →