The Knittin' Kitten

Still nothing. Some contractions, even some five minutes apart, but they don't get stronger and then they stop.

As for the knitting content, I'm nearly finished with a sweater for the kid - I'll post a photo when finished. By then, the new spiffy digital SLR should be here :)

Yes, I've been very bad and haven't posted for a very long time. Most of you know by now that I am, in fact pregnant, and my due date was yesterday, Nov. 14 2007. One day after I turned "of advanced maternal age." It's such a lovely label! For those of you not familiar with the pregnancy literature, that means I am now 35.

The mid-wife who examined me at my appointment yesterday (because my doctor was off delivering someone else's baby) said things were progressing just fine and that she estimated another four or five days before I actually hit full stage labor. I'll spare you the specifics, especially you Scott. If you want them, email me.

At the moment, I'm feeling fine. Mostly impatient. But then, it's not like this child has the genetic make-up to be either on time or in a hurry to get here, so this shouldn't really surprise me. My pelvis feels like a wishbone, and my husband tells me I walk like the Stay Puffed Marshmallow man in Ghost Busters. But that's my only real complaint at the moment.

Actually, it's rather amusing to walk into places like Target and the grocery store and see the looks on people's faces. There's this horrified realization that I could, in fact, go in to labor and drop this kid any time. It does make for good customer service though, and people are a lot more likely to get out of your way.

We'll keep everyone posted as to when things occur. The hospital birth center lounge has an Internet computer. So I'll be able to post. With any luck the digital camera I ordered before I left the photo store will be here before baby Barsanouphios is. And no, that's not his name, but I'm not going to post it on the blog, so it works as good as any.

1. Thank you Walgreen's for putting every possible item related to the uterus in one aisle. Because I need to be reminded that when I'm picking up the personal care items on the right, it means I won't be needing the baby care items on left. Thanks for the break down in public, guys. That's real sensitive.

2. Wendy's, when I ask for a baked potato with sour cream and chives instead of fries, the butter is IMPLIED. Who the hell eats a baked potato with just sour cream? Also, if I'm goin' through the drive through, I'm probably gonna need napkins in the bag too!

and with a slightly surreal post this time (see end of post)

Sorry, I was away so long. Things have been a little crazy, but that's been good becuase I've been keeping busy. When the miscarriage happened, I was in the middle of a show at the local community theater. I was Lenny in Crimes of the Heart. We had just done one weekend out of three of the show's run. So, I stayed home from our pickup rehearsal on Thursday, but was right back up on stage Friday night. During the weekend, one of my fellow cast-members shared her cold along with the Coke we drank together on stage, so by the following weekend, I was doing the show with almost no tonal quality to my voice. There was a forced sound, but that was about it. Then, after the show was over and I managed to get well again (after giving to B. first), I got a temp job in Des Moines doing some editing for a hairstyling college - and no that's not the surreal part.

Anyway, thank you all for your posts. I really do appreciate them. Also, thank you gang for the flowers. They were really lovely (and lasted over a week). They also gave me a little laugh because cissy's name came out as Carol. It it took me a minute to figure out. I'm doing much better now, and at this point just waiting out the two months until we can live life without condoms. After that, what happens happens.

And now, for the surreal part:
I was talking to my mother during the weekend before Thanksgiving (where she was grilling me about what we want for Christmas, but that's another post) and we were about to say goodbye when she said, "Oh, by the way, I forwarded some mail to you the other day. It was from G." (Meaning the previous BF before B.)

Yep, that's right, the former boyfriend sent me a birthday card after five years of being married to another guy - an emotionally available guy, I might add. For those of you who either don't know or remember, this was the guy I went looking for a job in Omaha to be closer to, who then dumped me because he wasn't sure he wanted to get married. Oh, yeah, and he was emotionally unavailable. I'm way better off without him, and honestly, I knew that before I ever met B. So I'm not bitter or angry at him or anything. I just have nothing more to say to him, and I'm really not sure why he makes the effort. His letter didn't really even say much. Just that he had been wondering how B. and I were doing with a few facts about what's going on in his life.

He had called my mom a few years back. (Their phone number hasn't changed in 30 years.) He was looking for my contact info because his e-mails to the Omaha account had bounced. She gave him my address, but not the phone number. He sent a birthday card. A Pooh card, if I remember correctly. This time it was a gray tabby cat holding a fish with a candle in it.

The most surreal thing was that he had Googled me and found a reference to my name in the local paper's story about Crimes.

Am I a horrible person for not wanting to contact him back? Should I just stay silent or send a message saying I don't want any further contact?

Yesterday, I woke to spotting. I called the doctor's office, and they told me to come in that morning for an ultrasound and so they could check me out.

During the ultrasound, the technician couldn't see the baby in my uterus. The most horrible part was that she turned the monitor screen around so that I could see. For some reason, the baby stopped growing at about seven or eight weeks, and there was just nothing there. After consulting with the midwife on call and one of the OBs, I was scheduled for a D&C this morning.

I held it together long enough to get to the car, at which point I completely lost it. I must have sat there wailing for at least five or ten minutes. Then I drove home, called B. and my mom - neither of whom were answering their phones. B. called back about five minutes later and all I managed to get out was, "I lost the baby," before he said, "I'll be right home, hang on."

So, he came home and I cried all afternoon till I finally went to sleep. My mother called about 5:30, which of course started the crying all over again. She told me she would call my dad and asked if I wanted them to come up. I said there wasn't much they could do. She called back about 7 to say that dad had taken off work, they were packing and on their way.

They stayed in Des Moines last night, and managed to get to Ames before I went into surgery this morning. It was no great feat really. I was supposed to check in at 8:30, they didn't wheel me into the prep room until noon. I was one VERY grumpy, hungry patient by then. The worst thing was that I just wanted it all to be over.

When my mom came in she just took me in her arms and let me cry. I have to say it felt really good. Sometimes a girl, even a grown up married one, just wants her mommy.

I was done and out of the hospital by 3 this afternoon. I'm physically fine at this point, just emotionally pretty rattled. I would appreciate it if everyone left the sympathy comments here on the blog. I don't think I can handle e-mails or phone calls at this point.

Thanks

There a couple here so, I'll divide them out.


1. Pregancy rant
I've just started reading Pregnancy Sucks (which mine doesn't, so far) as recommended by Sherrie. And Sherrie, you're right, the advice is better than What to Expect. Anyway, there's a section about when to tell people about the pregnancy. The author's advice is don't tell till the second trimester because there's greater chance of miscarriage during the first. It's not the first time I've heard this advice. When we told an old friend of B.'s (who's had three children herself), her response was that we shouldn't be telling people this early.

Maybe it's the hormones, but it hacks me off a little. I'm excited about this baby, and I want everyone to know. And I certainly don't want to spend the next two months waiting for something bad not to happen so we can finally tell people. And if something bad does happen I'd rather go through it with the support of my friends and family.

So, I guess my point is, the correct response to a woman telling you she's five weeks pregnant is, "Wow, that's great! Congratulations, I hope everything goes well for you."

2. Commercial Rant
So, I'm home alone all day and feeling tired and lazy, so I watch a lot of TV. I've been seeing this Gap commercial for the skinny black pant. What the hell! Don't these people know that the skinny black pant only looked good only Leslie Caron and Audrey Hepburn. Normal people can't wear these things.

In other news, happy birthday to B., who's 38 today.

And I talked to my mother over the weekend while they were visiting my cousins in northwest Iowa. Now, my cousin has a sixth-month-old granddaughter, so they went out shopping together .... Suffice it to say yia yia says she bought a few things for Baby Barsanouphios or Agrippina. I knew it wouldn't take long.

On a completely different topic ... (yes two posts in a day, can you handle it)

I was pulling out the driveway this morning to run some errands and there was a very pretty little brown retriever wandering down the sidewalk. She had a collar and an ID tag. So, I stopped and got out of the car. I let her sniff me. She let me pet her and I got close enough to see her collar. There was a number, so I called and got the owner's cell phone.

She was about to head into work and lived two houses down from us, so I told her I'd just walk the dog back and hook her back up. There were two leashes hooked together to give a longer tether, so I planned to just use the shorter one still connected to the post. So I did, except that the dog managed to run a circle around me while I was hooking her back up, which quickly landed me on my ass in the grass. The dog then proceeded to break the second leash as well. Not surprising since it was just cotton cording with hook thingy on the end. The dog, who was called Jade, the proceeded to waller all over me because she so happy to have a playmate.

I called the owner again, and she said the garage was unlocked and I could put her in there. With some effort I managed it and went about my errands.

So that was my good deed for the day. It got me off schedule and a rope burn on my ankle.

Well, I recently audition for a part in the local community theater's production of Crimes of the Heart. I was cast as Lenny, the oldest sister. My character is celebrating her thirtieth birthday when the play opens, so wohoooo I get to be 30 again!

Also, it's probably my last little hurrah on the stage before I start showing so much that I can't be cast as anything. After the little bundle arrives, well, I imagine it's frowned upon to breast feed on stage.

As for all your comments on my last post:
1. That was really unnecessary, Anjie-panjie
2. I'm against finding out the sex for exactly the reasons that were cited. I like the idea of surprise, and I will be inunndated with pink and frilly (mostly from my family) if it's a girl. I don't like pink or frilly, and frankly, my mother will more than take care of the pink and frilly after the birth. Who knows, she might actually get a girl who likes it.