the pieces of my life

(Does RIF still use that big dog? What was his name?) You know what the best thing about working with writers and editors is? They all love to read. My fantastic office threw me and Brown Brown a book shower and now Brown Brown has a library extraordinaire. At lunch time on Wednesday, we had pizza and chocolate cake with extra frosting (mmm, frosting! In fact, when my boss ordered the cake, the store said to her, “We can put plastic booties on the cake,” and she told them, “You better make them out of frosting.” Anyone who’s ever eaten cake within a mile radius of me knows that frosting makes me weak in the knees. Chocolate cake with vanilla frosting is just about the best thing ever invented). My boss said lots of nice things about me (the shower also doubled as my going-away party as my last day–Aug. 22–happens when a few folks will be on their vacations), and she gave me a gift certificate for a pedicure. And then everyone gave us lots of books! Some great classics (such as Dr. Seuss, Curious George, Mother Goose) and some I’d never heard of but now think are just fabulous (Five Minutes’ Peace and Henry Hikes to Fitchburg, to name two)! I got home on Wednesday night with my pile of books to discover that our glider came in, so now I not only have lots of books to read to Brown Brown, but I have a place to read to him!

On Wednesday I went to the hospital for a “Meet the Doctors.” Our OB is part of a call group, which means they each are on call one day a week and someone else covers their patients on other days. I was quite impressed with the group as a whole (six of the eight doctors were there. All but one is female. Just my luck, I’ll end up with the only male. Not that I have anything against male OBs. I just don’t want one coming anywhere near me), and they had an hour-long question-and-answer period. It was interesting and I learned a few new things, but they kept saying, over and over and over, not just the procedure that shall not be named, but it’s natural corollary. They spent a good three hourse on the topic! (Okay, well it felt like three hours. Whatever!) Happily, I was not the only person in the room turning green. I have to say, as much as I’m not crazy about the idea of a c-section, I’d be very happy to avoid that other thing that shall not be named. Oh, I feel queasy even just remembering the lecture.

“Hug a lot, hold hands, sleep in the spoon position, and kiss” StorkNet advises dads-to-be. Um, hello? Hugs? Have you tried to hug with a basketball under your shirt? Spooning? Have they not seen the pile of pillows on every pregnant woman’s bed? (By the way: Adam originally was slightly miffed at the body pillow, which he named Fred, that lay between us on the bed. Now I find when I come back from my nighttime bathroom trips, I have to wrench Fred from his grasp as he sleeps cuddled next to it.) Holding hands and kissing. Well, great. We’ve still got that going. Except that when you’re as cranky as I am, it doesn’t make for many kissable moments.

I’m working on my last story for work. This is it. Finito (which means, of course, I’ll be assigned some quickie project tomorrow, but hey, I like living dangerously and tempting fate). And so who am I to miss the opportunity to bitch about the fact that I can’t find a lead? Instead of thinking of my lead, all I can do is hum “I Need a Lead” to the tune of the Roseanne Cash song “I Need a Cure.” Someone send me a lead!

Adam gave me an out. “You’ll be 34 weeks pregnant. You really don’t have to come with me to the wedding.” “Oh,” I blithesomely said, “I’m not worried.” And it was true, all the discomforts of the weekend came not from the baby (although sitting in a car for so long with a head crammed in your ribs is not the most comfortable of things) but just from the sheer exhaustion of getting from Boston to Atlantic City and back in one weekend (because of his internship, Adam couldn’t take Friday off). Note to self: Do not try to leave Boston on a Friday at 5:30. Never ever ever ever. Luckily, the Tweedle Twirp’s weekday home is two hours from Atlantic City, so we used that as our homebase, breaking up the ride and meaning we got to skip the $180 hotel room. Of course, the Tweedle Twirp is a graduate student. What does that mean? It means a futon on the floor. TT was concerned about me on it, and I said, “Oh, no problem! I always fall asleep in my yoga class and that’s on the floor.” And it’s true–her futon was quite comfy. But, man, getting up and down from the futon was less than graceful. It involved some rocking back and forth, a half-hearted leap, and my grabbing onto whatever was closest to pull myself up every time I needed the bathroom. Adam, of course, slept soundly. One thing I can say for TT’s apartment: it made me realize just how happy I am to have air conditioning at home.

The wedding itself was lovely. There were a few snafus, but as a guest and not a participant, I could just sit back and relax and not worry about them (for instance, the florist thought the wedding was on Sunday, not Saturday, so many of the flowers were not ready. The wedding started forty minutes late as they waited for what flowers they had, and from what I heard, the bridesmaid’s flowers came from the Stop N’ Shop. They were still pretty, though). You know, I had so much fun planning our wedding and I really enjoyed the day and I am so happy that I’ll never have to do it again. Guest is way more fun than participant. Adam was an usher in the wedding, and the funniest part was that the morning suit he had to wear was HUGE on him. You could barely see his hands under the cuffs.

Sunday was my day, though. A trip to Ikea where we finished purchasing things for the baby’s room (a dresser and a table/shelf). Lunch with an old friend of mine. And shopping at the baby store at Jersey Gardens. Then we attempted to leave the Tri-State area. I think it’s the fastest we’ve ever done it: only an hour and forty minutes to get from Elizabeth, New Jersey to the other side of the George Washington Bridge. What a joy. We made it home in about five and a half hours.

All in all, a good weekend. But from here on out, whenever I’m given an out… I’ll be taking it!

How is it possible that it’s already August? How is it possible that we need to be completely prepared to welcome Brown Brown in just twenty days (that’s full term)? How is it possible that my to-do list has not only not gotten shorter, but is expanding?

Breastfeeding class last night. Definitely very helpful. Although how they get women to volunteer for those videos is beyond me. There’s no way I’d give birth and then let some La Leche breastfeeding tyrant manhandle my breasts for a camera (and I mean “manhandle.” This woman was grabbing on to this poor women’s boob to show us how it was pink and sore because she breastfed wrong. Hello! It’s sore! Get your hands off of it, then!).

I’m considering leaving work earlier for two reasons: 1) I have one more article to turn in for work next week, and then I’m pretty much done. No one wants to assign a new article to a woman who’s ready to burst (nor do I want them–I’m not in the mood to go trekking around town chasing people down for interviews). And I don’t want to take on any projects that I may not finish. 2) Brown Brown ain’t turned yet. According to the OB, there’s an excellent chance he won’t turn, because he’s very nicely wedged his butt into my pelvic bone, right where his head is supposed to be (Adam was visibly relieved. “You mean he physically can’t turn? He’s not just stubborn?” he asked me. I asked, “Were you really concerned that this was a sign that we were going to have a difficult, stubborn child?” “Yes,” he admitted). She recommended an acupuncture technique, but one of the side effects is it can bring on early labor, apparently (and if it doesn’t work, then it’s a simple matter of a c-section, but we don’t need to worry about that for a few more weeks yet). So I’d schedule it for late in the month and if I go, I go! But by leaving work early, I can prepare for an early baby as well as have some peace of mind as I check things off my to-do list. Besides, Adam has a week off between work and school, and it would be nice to actually get to spend time with him alone. Our last gasp at freedom, kind of like that last summer vacation before you enter the “real world.” The world is about to get as real as it can get for us!

I don’t normally post links to Boston Globe articles, because they are archived after two weeks, but this is a story too bizarre not to post. My mind just can’t wrap itself around this one!

So Brown Brown is officially stubborn or slow (let’s hope for stubborn). Today was his deadline for moving into position. But nope, his head is still stubbornly in my side. Adam gave me hope with the story from a coworker about his baby moving into position at 35 weeks. Apparently, it happened when they were out to dinner and the guy could actually see the baby moving from across the table. So folks who will see me in the next week, maybe you’ll get a show!

A side note: how did people have babies before the Internet? We’ve ordered furniture, nursing clothes, diaper bag, room decorations, and gotten more information than we really want to know from the Web. I can’t fathom how it was done back in the days of yore, like ten years ago. It’s almost like trying to envision life without ATMs. Impossible!

So yesterday’s all-day babyathon was much better for me than Saturday’s. Nurse Nancy only mentioned the procedure that shall not be named once. We spent a while playing with dolls, putting on diapers, swaddling, and burping (note: I’m sure this is not indicative of his fathering skills, but Adam is a sucky swaddler. Hate to say it, but it’s a fact. However he excels at diapering, and I will be more than happy to pass that chore over to him). We watched the sequel to Saturday’s “Hello Baby” video, which was “Hello Parents.” Only one visible birth and a lot of very tired parents. The amount of reading material and information was still overwhelming (must remember to measure slats around stairs, check with pediatrician about Hep B shots, buy a pacifier even if we swear we’ll never use one…), but it was info we needed and one of these days, we may actually read everything they gave us (yeah, right). Not wanting to repeat Saturday evening (where I had a minor meltdown that consisted basically of “I’m sick and tired of being tired! I’m sick and tired of this head jamming me in the ribs! I’m sick and tired of being pregnant!”), we decided to head home right after class and take it easy. I’m in cooking mode–I made six batches of spaghetti sauce to put in the freezer; next week I’ll start in on casseroles of some sort–to minimize cooking needs during the weeks after birth. It’s weird that it’s not too early to be doing this (as Pregnancy Weekly says today, “You have 44 days or 6 weeks left, and are 84% of the way there. “). Then, it was an almost relaxing evening–I’m close to done with the baby sweater I’m making and we watched Sex and the City (relaxing) and the Red Sox game (so not relaxing).

Now I face the work week with less excitement than normal. I have two stories to write, which means I shall be filling my days with finding new and inventive ways to procrastinate (it’s always like that when the research is done and all that’s left is the writing). I’m tired, and I’m way too preoccupied with baby to be thinking of anything else right now. My to-do list is a mile long and all I can think about is, I’d rather be checking things off my list. Although, “blog about weekend” was on the list. Check!

As Brown Brown still hasn’t turned and I’m becoming increasingly more desperate as his ever-growing noggin expands into the ever-decreasing room formerly known as my chest and now known as that friggin’ parasite’s cocoon (the term parasite left us for a while, huh? Well, it’s baaaack!), I’m trying all the techniques I can find to get him to assume the position. I’m spending a lot of time hanging out in the living room on my hands and knees and rubbing my belly. I’ve tried talking to him–both in nice soothing tones and in that “I’m counting to three” tone.

Well, as long as I have my weekly swim, I figured I’d try the handstand technique. I felt like an idiot, because it’s a normal lap swim, which means you aren’t supposed to be goofing around. All around me, people are doing their rapid laps while I do my leisurely swim (I do nothing non-leisurely anymore. The only thing that has me moving quickly these days is my bladder), so between laps, I furtively try to sneak in some handstands. Have you ever tried to do a handstand when you are at your most floaty? Impossible I tell you! I could do two for maybe .35 seconds each before I’d float one way or another. So I quickly gave that up. Besides, it sounds like a stupid idea anyway. Wouldn’t that just have the baby turning in the wrong direction? I don’t get it.