After talking to Queen Nomad yesterday, we determined that my life usually comes down to those three words: Gross, but funny.
Two primo examples of this occurred yesterday. Beware: these tales are gross, but damn funny.
I tried to take some Mommy time yesterday in order to de-sasquatch my body (all save bikini area which I refuse to do by myself for obvious reasons). For some reason, me half-naked, bent over with one leg up on the toilet, ripping dark black Armenian hairs off my legs was sexy (don't ask me) and the Dog came 'round behind me and began feeling me up. I gotta admit, the baby was sleeping, so I thought -- hey, pourquoi pas? Let's go for it. I put down the wax and proceeded to the bedroom, where I was treated to some nice "you don't have to do anything" foreplay -- my favourite!
5 minutes into it, the baby starts to cry. It's like he KNOWS someone else is sucking on HIS boobies. As embarrassing as this is, I will admit that I told the Dog to get the baby and plop him down in the bed to shut him up. I put a pillow between us so we couldn't see each other and it seemed to work out... in a weird way. So Daddy and Mommy are back in the swing of things after some initially awkward giggles (hell, he won't remember this when he grows up), and then baby starts fussing again. So I reach around the pillow and shove my pinky finger in baby's mouth to soothe him. And he shuts up. But now, my breasts are leaking milk because of the crying. Milk is streaming down either side of my breasts, my finger is in baby's mouth and my man's head is... well, you get the picture. It is amazing that I was even able to get off considering the circumstances.
Hey, you might think that I'm a nasty desperate whore (ok, maybe you're right), but Mommy needs to get some too! What's a gal supposed to do? Anyway, I get up when all is said and done and there are three wet spots on the bed (the obvious one and then one on either side of each boob)... such is my new life, friends.
Later that day, Mamacita and Sister Sunshine came by for a visit. Mamacita was giving advice every 30 seconds it seemed. "Put the baby in the crib." "Put more blankets on the baby."
"Give the baby honey."
"Well, you can't give him honey until he's like two Ma, because honey may have botulism spores."
"Botulism? What the heck is that?"
"It paralyzes your muscles. It's what Botox is made of."
"Hmph. I gave you guys honey all the time and you turned out fine."
And so on and so on. Right before they left, Nate was fussing a bit so I was trying to give him his Soothie. "Poor baby. It doesn't taste good," Mamacita began to criticize. " You know what you should do to make it taste better?"
I had had enough, so I replied, "I know what will make it taste better!" So I whipped out my tit, squirted some milk on the pacifier and shoved it in Nate's mouth. "There! He likes it now."
Mamacita and Sista Sunny were stunned for a moment, then erupted into fits of laughter. "Bet you never thought you'd see your sister do that, did you?" Sista S wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded no. "You're gross," she said. "Gross," I admitted, "but funny."
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Sunday, January 23, 2005
3 Weeks Old!
Well, Little Man Nate is growing fast and strong. He is already trying to roll over, if you can believe it. He's throwing his heavy head all over the place and holding it up for bursts of time. And he smiles in his sleep, often with my boob in his mouth.
A trip to Dr. Hui this week proved that Mommy Milk has got it goin' on! Nate grew an inch and gained a pound! In a week! He's so awesome. It has been so fun getting to know him, his likes and dislikes, and figuring out his schedule. We have limited our visitors to one set a day now, and we've even been lucky enough to get a day or two with NO VISITORS! YAY! No offence to anyone, but it can get a tad overwhelming at times.
On the otherhand, with the weather being -35C every day, we have not left the house since Wednesday. Going a little stir-crazy. Had to throw Nate into Daddy Dog's arms yesterday, take the stereo into the bathroom, and blast some MJB (Mary J Blige) and pretend I was in a hip-hop video instead of the shower, so I could get some relief. Then I scrubbed the dead skin off my feet for 30 minutes. That is the extent of my Mommy-time these days. Sheesh!
He barely sleeps in his crib, so to save frustration I just keep him on the couch after his colicky hours (midnight-2 am). The Pheno-Barb makes him gulp down so much air that he has painful gas hours afterwards. The rest of the night is spent on the couch, with me rolling over every 2 hours to stuff my boob in his mouth before he fully wakes up or starts crying. Last night we slept in the bed, all three of us. That seemed to work out so we will keep doing that until he's old enough to sleep for a longer stretch at a time.
Anyway, he is so gorgeous and we are totally in love. There he goes... crying away... I leave him with his dad for two minutes to write this and dang-blasted (dunno why I just wrote that - sleep deprivation perhaps), I am being summoned again. Later.
A trip to Dr. Hui this week proved that Mommy Milk has got it goin' on! Nate grew an inch and gained a pound! In a week! He's so awesome. It has been so fun getting to know him, his likes and dislikes, and figuring out his schedule. We have limited our visitors to one set a day now, and we've even been lucky enough to get a day or two with NO VISITORS! YAY! No offence to anyone, but it can get a tad overwhelming at times.
On the otherhand, with the weather being -35C every day, we have not left the house since Wednesday. Going a little stir-crazy. Had to throw Nate into Daddy Dog's arms yesterday, take the stereo into the bathroom, and blast some MJB (Mary J Blige) and pretend I was in a hip-hop video instead of the shower, so I could get some relief. Then I scrubbed the dead skin off my feet for 30 minutes. That is the extent of my Mommy-time these days. Sheesh!
He barely sleeps in his crib, so to save frustration I just keep him on the couch after his colicky hours (midnight-2 am). The Pheno-Barb makes him gulp down so much air that he has painful gas hours afterwards. The rest of the night is spent on the couch, with me rolling over every 2 hours to stuff my boob in his mouth before he fully wakes up or starts crying. Last night we slept in the bed, all three of us. That seemed to work out so we will keep doing that until he's old enough to sleep for a longer stretch at a time.
Anyway, he is so gorgeous and we are totally in love. There he goes... crying away... I leave him with his dad for two minutes to write this and dang-blasted (dunno why I just wrote that - sleep deprivation perhaps), I am being summoned again. Later.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You...
One night of love/ Is all we knew...
OK, totally biting Blondie and Blogueuse's use of song titles to intro a post, but hey, it works.
Daddy and baby are asleep on the couch together and Mommy is taking this opportunity to reminisce about her badder days.
Was just catching up on So Very Cherry/ Cookie's blog and she had an interesting few posts on one-night-stands.
Considering that I am now a boring mom and have been menstruating for over two weeks (I let you gals know about that right? You don't get your period for 9 months, but your body gives it all back on the other end -- up to 6 weeks!) now, and my two slut idols got married last year, I thought I'd torture myself more in memoryland and open this topic up to my homegirls for discussion.
Now, admittedly, I was never a big whore. This is something I regret somewhat, since I am now with the same man for 7 years and I have promised him eternity. Looking back, I was pretty hot (in a slightly raver meets stripper way -- will add a photo later), but was so insecure that I never played my cards right. Plus I lived with my strict middle-eastern folks in a distant suburb, so sleeping around with boys a met in downtown nightclubs wasn't really an option. The most I'd get to in the clubs was the hot "stranger on the dancefloor make-out," which was almost always hotter of an idea than actually going to bed with these fools. The dancefloor make-out was also always hotter than trying to date these goons afterwards. They were usually (in our circles) dumb ginos or loser ecstasy-heads, whom alcohol helped to momentarily appear as a "catch."
So my posse and I usually did our damage when on vacation. Not that the pickings were any less slim over Reading Week/Spring Break, but there were more boys in a concentrated area over a longer period of time. Plus you had sunshine and hangovers to help you see the light. Not that there was much light to be had in my vodka-infused, starving-so-my-tummy-is-flat-in-my-bikini, 22-year-old brain. So herein lie the details of my one and only one-nighter that turned me off sex with strangers forever.
We were in Acapulco. It was February and the U of T and York University Reading Weeks managed to overlap a bit I think. Either that, or Pipes just managed to finagle a few extra days to spend with us (she went to U of T, while Big J, Sista Sunshine, Banana and I went to York). Anyway, I remember being on the elevator of the Copacabana hotel with Pipes. This slightly hot guy (looking back, he was very short -- even for me) got on with his friends. I believe that my opening line was as cheesy as "Nice shirt." Thing is, as I recall it, the shirt may have been... shiny. Ew. But I was into the shiny shirt type back then.
Anyway, instant chemistry. The Fab Four, we had an adjoining room to our pal Pimp Daddy, whom it turned out, was friends with Nice Shirt (I do have a photo of Nice Shirt, but thought I'd keep that private). Not surprising, Pimp Daddy was friends with everyone. We went clubbing each night and this was a Monday I think so we went to Extravaganza, which was by far the least cool of all the clubs we went to in Acapulco. Anyway, Nice Shirt and I were flirting on and off all night. I was trying to be coy. I really thought I iked him and wanted to get to know him better. He looked (several, several shooters in) like someone I would like to get to know better and maybe have as a boyfriend. But he was a playa ... big time.
So he would leave me and go talk to his friends or whatever it was. So I struck up a convo with some other guys (not as cute as Nice Shirt, but cute nonetheless). When Not As Cute Guy offered to get me a beer at the bar, I said sure. Well by the time Not As Cute Guy came back with that beer, Nice shirt had returned and we were making out heavily on the dancefloor. (I swear, that is definitely a pasttime that I do miss from time to time. Perhaps I should suggest to the Dog that we hit a club -- him in disguise -- and end up making out on the dancefloor...) I tried to give Not As Cute Guy a sympathetic look, but really, what diff would it have made in the long run?
Nice Shirt and I went out to get some air. Keep in mind that it was Open Bar/No Cover for ladies in Acapulco, at EVERY club from Sunday through Thursday. So my young liver had ingested a lot. And I'd probably only had a taco all day or something. Anyway, outside he's trying to convince me to go back to the hotel with him. This was a big no-no with our gang. Especially since this would require me leaving without telling any of the girls that I was leaving. We also had another rule created by Big J: You make it in the bed, you lie it in the bed. OK, not exactly a new rule, but just her broken English version of the existing one.
So I told him that I liked him and that I wasn't interested in a fling. Duh! Like what the hell was I doing in Mexico for Spring Break then? Boy was I daft. Who looks for a full-time boyfriend on vacation? Well I was an idealistic 22-year-old, so me I guess. Anyway, he promised that if we went back to the hotel, we could just make out some more and we wouldn't "do it".
The rest of the details are cloudy. I vaguely remeber the bathroom in the hotel lobby. I remember somehow getting into my room (I was never trusted with the keys) and then I remember his dick being small. I remember feeling like I had to go through with it to erase the fact that I'd only ever slept with my ex -- Psycho -- until that point. I remember feeling like I should just go along with it so I could be a big girl and not some suburban prude. It was totally awful, and it wasn't me. And the worst part was, when it was over, he knocked on the adjoining door to Pimp Daddy's room and I heard him tell them all about it. Gross. And that was only the second night of a two week vacation with all these guys.
When the girls came back to the room, I got in shit for taking off without telling them of course. They were worried. I also got in shit for doing it in the same bed that I had to share with Sista Sunshine. I don't blame her. That was pretty skanky. But I was so hammered and felt like a lowly sack of shit. I took a shower, but I just felt nasty. And the next day, I had to face everyone in the bright Pacific sunshine, knowing that Nice Shirt had told them everything.
It was like a bad episode of The O.C. except that this kid from Chino doesn't live with a rich family and Sista Sunshine ain't no Cohen. But the amazing thing was, all the girls understood, because let's face it -- how many of us have been in questionable circumstances like that? Where you don't ever remember agreeing to do the act, but you found yourself doing it anyway, against your better judgement. It's not exactly textbook Date Rape, but not exactly consentual either... so messed up.
Well... that started out as a funny story, but it did bring up a valid point about yucky one-night-stands. The fantasy is almost always better than the reality. Which is why I never really fooled around more. And the more I think about it, the more it suited the person I was and the person I am today. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I had it in me to be more like a man and less emotional when it comes to sex. Because I may have had more fun. Or maybe I woulda just had STDs -- who knows?
OK, totally biting Blondie and Blogueuse's use of song titles to intro a post, but hey, it works.
Daddy and baby are asleep on the couch together and Mommy is taking this opportunity to reminisce about her badder days.
Was just catching up on So Very Cherry/ Cookie's blog and she had an interesting few posts on one-night-stands.
Considering that I am now a boring mom and have been menstruating for over two weeks (I let you gals know about that right? You don't get your period for 9 months, but your body gives it all back on the other end -- up to 6 weeks!) now, and my two slut idols got married last year, I thought I'd torture myself more in memoryland and open this topic up to my homegirls for discussion.
Now, admittedly, I was never a big whore. This is something I regret somewhat, since I am now with the same man for 7 years and I have promised him eternity. Looking back, I was pretty hot (in a slightly raver meets stripper way -- will add a photo later), but was so insecure that I never played my cards right. Plus I lived with my strict middle-eastern folks in a distant suburb, so sleeping around with boys a met in downtown nightclubs wasn't really an option. The most I'd get to in the clubs was the hot "stranger on the dancefloor make-out," which was almost always hotter of an idea than actually going to bed with these fools. The dancefloor make-out was also always hotter than trying to date these goons afterwards. They were usually (in our circles) dumb ginos or loser ecstasy-heads, whom alcohol helped to momentarily appear as a "catch."
So my posse and I usually did our damage when on vacation. Not that the pickings were any less slim over Reading Week/Spring Break, but there were more boys in a concentrated area over a longer period of time. Plus you had sunshine and hangovers to help you see the light. Not that there was much light to be had in my vodka-infused, starving-so-my-tummy-is-flat-in-my-bikini, 22-year-old brain. So herein lie the details of my one and only one-nighter that turned me off sex with strangers forever.
We were in Acapulco. It was February and the U of T and York University Reading Weeks managed to overlap a bit I think. Either that, or Pipes just managed to finagle a few extra days to spend with us (she went to U of T, while Big J, Sista Sunshine, Banana and I went to York). Anyway, I remember being on the elevator of the Copacabana hotel with Pipes. This slightly hot guy (looking back, he was very short -- even for me) got on with his friends. I believe that my opening line was as cheesy as "Nice shirt." Thing is, as I recall it, the shirt may have been... shiny. Ew. But I was into the shiny shirt type back then.
Anyway, instant chemistry. The Fab Four, we had an adjoining room to our pal Pimp Daddy, whom it turned out, was friends with Nice Shirt (I do have a photo of Nice Shirt, but thought I'd keep that private). Not surprising, Pimp Daddy was friends with everyone. We went clubbing each night and this was a Monday I think so we went to Extravaganza, which was by far the least cool of all the clubs we went to in Acapulco. Anyway, Nice Shirt and I were flirting on and off all night. I was trying to be coy. I really thought I iked him and wanted to get to know him better. He looked (several, several shooters in) like someone I would like to get to know better and maybe have as a boyfriend. But he was a playa ... big time.
So he would leave me and go talk to his friends or whatever it was. So I struck up a convo with some other guys (not as cute as Nice Shirt, but cute nonetheless). When Not As Cute Guy offered to get me a beer at the bar, I said sure. Well by the time Not As Cute Guy came back with that beer, Nice shirt had returned and we were making out heavily on the dancefloor. (I swear, that is definitely a pasttime that I do miss from time to time. Perhaps I should suggest to the Dog that we hit a club -- him in disguise -- and end up making out on the dancefloor...) I tried to give Not As Cute Guy a sympathetic look, but really, what diff would it have made in the long run?
Nice Shirt and I went out to get some air. Keep in mind that it was Open Bar/No Cover for ladies in Acapulco, at EVERY club from Sunday through Thursday. So my young liver had ingested a lot. And I'd probably only had a taco all day or something. Anyway, outside he's trying to convince me to go back to the hotel with him. This was a big no-no with our gang. Especially since this would require me leaving without telling any of the girls that I was leaving. We also had another rule created by Big J: You make it in the bed, you lie it in the bed. OK, not exactly a new rule, but just her broken English version of the existing one.
So I told him that I liked him and that I wasn't interested in a fling. Duh! Like what the hell was I doing in Mexico for Spring Break then? Boy was I daft. Who looks for a full-time boyfriend on vacation? Well I was an idealistic 22-year-old, so me I guess. Anyway, he promised that if we went back to the hotel, we could just make out some more and we wouldn't "do it".
The rest of the details are cloudy. I vaguely remeber the bathroom in the hotel lobby. I remember somehow getting into my room (I was never trusted with the keys) and then I remember his dick being small. I remember feeling like I had to go through with it to erase the fact that I'd only ever slept with my ex -- Psycho -- until that point. I remember feeling like I should just go along with it so I could be a big girl and not some suburban prude. It was totally awful, and it wasn't me. And the worst part was, when it was over, he knocked on the adjoining door to Pimp Daddy's room and I heard him tell them all about it. Gross. And that was only the second night of a two week vacation with all these guys.
When the girls came back to the room, I got in shit for taking off without telling them of course. They were worried. I also got in shit for doing it in the same bed that I had to share with Sista Sunshine. I don't blame her. That was pretty skanky. But I was so hammered and felt like a lowly sack of shit. I took a shower, but I just felt nasty. And the next day, I had to face everyone in the bright Pacific sunshine, knowing that Nice Shirt had told them everything.
It was like a bad episode of The O.C. except that this kid from Chino doesn't live with a rich family and Sista Sunshine ain't no Cohen. But the amazing thing was, all the girls understood, because let's face it -- how many of us have been in questionable circumstances like that? Where you don't ever remember agreeing to do the act, but you found yourself doing it anyway, against your better judgement. It's not exactly textbook Date Rape, but not exactly consentual either... so messed up.
Well... that started out as a funny story, but it did bring up a valid point about yucky one-night-stands. The fantasy is almost always better than the reality. Which is why I never really fooled around more. And the more I think about it, the more it suited the person I was and the person I am today. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I had it in me to be more like a man and less emotional when it comes to sex. Because I may have had more fun. Or maybe I woulda just had STDs -- who knows?
Monday, January 17, 2005
No Sleep 'till Brooklyn
Oh dear. It has begun. The tired, run-down feeling. The no-sleep raggamuffin appearance. The completely frustrated tears at 1 am. (And that's just me!)
Nate-Dawg will not sleep inhis crib if I put him down. If his dad puts him down, no-problem. This could prove to be big trouble when Daddy Dog goes back to work. I feel completely trapped, like I'm chained to the couch 24-7. My nipples are sore as hell. I can barely compose a thought, let alone a sentence. Grrrrrrrrrrr.
But he is so bloody cute and, much like his dad, one look at his face and I am so over it. Will try to get some computer time in tomorrow to fill y'all in on the progress. Must go. Breasts are on demand yet again!
Nate-Dawg will not sleep inhis crib if I put him down. If his dad puts him down, no-problem. This could prove to be big trouble when Daddy Dog goes back to work. I feel completely trapped, like I'm chained to the couch 24-7. My nipples are sore as hell. I can barely compose a thought, let alone a sentence. Grrrrrrrrrrr.
But he is so bloody cute and, much like his dad, one look at his face and I am so over it. Will try to get some computer time in tomorrow to fill y'all in on the progress. Must go. Breasts are on demand yet again!
Friday, January 14, 2005
And on the 11th night, he slept!
I've just been catching up on everyone's blogs and commenting -- am about halfway through my list and just thought I'd better post something.
I am a well-rested woman today!
I forgot to mention that the neurologists from Sick Kids checked him out on Monday. There was a hot young resident and the old white-haired pro. The medical equivalent of the rookie cop and the "about to be retired, but got one last mission" cop. Anyway, they could find no signs of asymmetry (this is one of those words that I can never spell correctly) - which is good, because if his left lobe was damaged severely, you would definitely see that his right side didn't move as well as his left. They told me that they believed him to have had a stroke during the labour and delivery, but that the prognosis was good for a full recovery. Babies' brains are said to be plastic. Because they are not "programmed" yet, when a "circuit" is damaged, the brain re-wires itself and the other "servers" kick in to take over. They mentioned that if the brain heals and creates scar-tissue, then there is a possibility of seizures in the future. Whatever. We'll deal with that if it happens.
Then they were like, "Well, our Stroke Team will want to see him in 6 months to figure out why this happened." I replied bluntly, " to be honest with you guys, I could care less WHY it happened. I am so past the WHY and the WHEN of this whole thing -- those were last week's issues. I just want to take him home and love him and hold him and be his mom." They smiled, wished us the best and left.
The past two days have been fairly busy. On Wednesday we had to go back to Sick Kids (at 8:30 in the morning and for those of you who know me well, that was f8cking hard!) to have his EEG and Evoked Potentials tests redone to see if his brain activity had improved. I went in with him this time and held his little hands and talked to him with a reassuring voice as he had 20+ electrodes stuck to his head. He was such a good boy -- he didn't cry once. The EEG took 20 minutes, then they stuck these funny goggles on him that flashed laser lights into his eyelids (he was actually sleeping through this) to test the visual pathways to his brain. Then they gave him some electrical current to make his wrist twitch to test his brain's communications with his sensory reflexes (I think). Man have a learned a lot about this stuff in a week's time.
We also had our first pediatrician's visit on Wednesday. As soon as I told Dr. Hui (pronounced Hoy) that Nate was having seizures shortly after birth, he non-chalently asked, "So did he have a stroke?" Like where the heck were you a week ago? He sounded so confident in his diagnosis. I guess 30 years of practicing pediatric medicine will do that to ya. He said that with minor strokes, the chance for a full recovery was very good. Again, no guarantees, but he seemed optimistic. Each day I spend with this little guy, the more faith I have that he is going to be just fine. I always said he was a fighter. And a friggin' cute little clenched-fist boxer he is.
Dr. Hui weighed him and that was a little disconcerting. He had dropped to 6 lbs 1 oz. I guess because he only started eating last Friday. So we will see Dr. Hui again next week to make sure that Nate-Dawg is gaining weight well and the breastfeeding is working out. In the meantime, I have been trying to concentrate on him more while feeding and speaking to him encouragingly while he eats so that he gets the most out of it.
Nate-Dawg has peed and pooped on all his clothes already. We are still getting the diaper thing down and have enjoyed a few Golden Showers as a result. Mamacita and Sista Sunshine came over Wed night to bring us much needed soups and casseroles and took away the dirty laundry. They brought the clean stuff back yesterday - phew! I coudn't do this without their help, esp. since we don't have a washing machine and our laundromat sucks. Muchos gracias to them.
After doing the laundry, we realized that Nate-Dawg has a lot of clothes now, particularly ones that he will soon grow out of. He also has a lot of stuffed animals. So if you are coming over to visit him, the nicest thing you can do for us is bring food. Bring enough so that you can eat with us if you like. But we need to be fed more than we need another sleeper. Breastfeeding requires a lot of energy (burns 500 cals a day) and so I need to beef up in order to let the little guy suck energy and nutrients right out of me. I have lost 15 of the 25 pounds I gained already, and each day I look less and less pregnant. Hooray for me! Uh-oh for my credit card. When I start fitting into hot clothes again... this could be dangerous.
Yesterday we went for our first walk in the stroller. Photos are up on the Photo Gallery. He has slept on the Dog's belly a couple of times, as well as took a nap with me in my bed yesterday. Last night, went to the hospital for a blood test and then came home to have a bath and then give Nate his Pheno Barb. Can't wait until we don't have to do that anymore -- it is the most awful experience to watch him choke it down, no matter how enthusiastically we sing "I Wanna Be Sedated" by the Ramones while we do it. Hopefully the test they did last night will prove that he doesn't have to take it anymore and that his chance of having further seizures is diminished for now at least. Anyway, I was worried that the busy-ness of the past two days would throw off his schedule and he would be crying a lot. I still can't figure out how this sleeping thing is supposed to work.
After the dose, I settled down to feed him and watch my taped episode of The O.C. . He fell asleep in my arms and I fell asleep before the show was over. I decided to put him down on the couch beside me, since I figured he'd be up again soon. The Dog woke us up at 5:30 am! We had slept throught he night! I fed him again and the Dog put Nate in the crib and we went off to bed. I woke up at 10 am and the babe was still asleep. I woke him to change and feed him and he's sleeping again! Awesome.
So I got a great (by a new mom's standards) night's sleep and am now ready to face the world again. Perhaps I will finally pluck these nasty bush pig eyebrows of mine (I am becoming quite the sasquatch)...
Thanks to everyone for their amazing comments and emails. Your support just poured in and we are extremely grateful. We couldn't have made it through without you guys. We'll SLOWLY start seeing people over the next couple of weeks, so let us know when you'd like to visit.
I am a well-rested woman today!
I forgot to mention that the neurologists from Sick Kids checked him out on Monday. There was a hot young resident and the old white-haired pro. The medical equivalent of the rookie cop and the "about to be retired, but got one last mission" cop. Anyway, they could find no signs of asymmetry (this is one of those words that I can never spell correctly) - which is good, because if his left lobe was damaged severely, you would definitely see that his right side didn't move as well as his left. They told me that they believed him to have had a stroke during the labour and delivery, but that the prognosis was good for a full recovery. Babies' brains are said to be plastic. Because they are not "programmed" yet, when a "circuit" is damaged, the brain re-wires itself and the other "servers" kick in to take over. They mentioned that if the brain heals and creates scar-tissue, then there is a possibility of seizures in the future. Whatever. We'll deal with that if it happens.
Then they were like, "Well, our Stroke Team will want to see him in 6 months to figure out why this happened." I replied bluntly, " to be honest with you guys, I could care less WHY it happened. I am so past the WHY and the WHEN of this whole thing -- those were last week's issues. I just want to take him home and love him and hold him and be his mom." They smiled, wished us the best and left.
The past two days have been fairly busy. On Wednesday we had to go back to Sick Kids (at 8:30 in the morning and for those of you who know me well, that was f8cking hard!) to have his EEG and Evoked Potentials tests redone to see if his brain activity had improved. I went in with him this time and held his little hands and talked to him with a reassuring voice as he had 20+ electrodes stuck to his head. He was such a good boy -- he didn't cry once. The EEG took 20 minutes, then they stuck these funny goggles on him that flashed laser lights into his eyelids (he was actually sleeping through this) to test the visual pathways to his brain. Then they gave him some electrical current to make his wrist twitch to test his brain's communications with his sensory reflexes (I think). Man have a learned a lot about this stuff in a week's time.
We also had our first pediatrician's visit on Wednesday. As soon as I told Dr. Hui (pronounced Hoy) that Nate was having seizures shortly after birth, he non-chalently asked, "So did he have a stroke?" Like where the heck were you a week ago? He sounded so confident in his diagnosis. I guess 30 years of practicing pediatric medicine will do that to ya. He said that with minor strokes, the chance for a full recovery was very good. Again, no guarantees, but he seemed optimistic. Each day I spend with this little guy, the more faith I have that he is going to be just fine. I always said he was a fighter. And a friggin' cute little clenched-fist boxer he is.
Dr. Hui weighed him and that was a little disconcerting. He had dropped to 6 lbs 1 oz. I guess because he only started eating last Friday. So we will see Dr. Hui again next week to make sure that Nate-Dawg is gaining weight well and the breastfeeding is working out. In the meantime, I have been trying to concentrate on him more while feeding and speaking to him encouragingly while he eats so that he gets the most out of it.
Nate-Dawg has peed and pooped on all his clothes already. We are still getting the diaper thing down and have enjoyed a few Golden Showers as a result. Mamacita and Sista Sunshine came over Wed night to bring us much needed soups and casseroles and took away the dirty laundry. They brought the clean stuff back yesterday - phew! I coudn't do this without their help, esp. since we don't have a washing machine and our laundromat sucks. Muchos gracias to them.
After doing the laundry, we realized that Nate-Dawg has a lot of clothes now, particularly ones that he will soon grow out of. He also has a lot of stuffed animals. So if you are coming over to visit him, the nicest thing you can do for us is bring food. Bring enough so that you can eat with us if you like. But we need to be fed more than we need another sleeper. Breastfeeding requires a lot of energy (burns 500 cals a day) and so I need to beef up in order to let the little guy suck energy and nutrients right out of me. I have lost 15 of the 25 pounds I gained already, and each day I look less and less pregnant. Hooray for me! Uh-oh for my credit card. When I start fitting into hot clothes again... this could be dangerous.
Yesterday we went for our first walk in the stroller. Photos are up on the Photo Gallery. He has slept on the Dog's belly a couple of times, as well as took a nap with me in my bed yesterday. Last night, went to the hospital for a blood test and then came home to have a bath and then give Nate his Pheno Barb. Can't wait until we don't have to do that anymore -- it is the most awful experience to watch him choke it down, no matter how enthusiastically we sing "I Wanna Be Sedated" by the Ramones while we do it. Hopefully the test they did last night will prove that he doesn't have to take it anymore and that his chance of having further seizures is diminished for now at least. Anyway, I was worried that the busy-ness of the past two days would throw off his schedule and he would be crying a lot. I still can't figure out how this sleeping thing is supposed to work.
After the dose, I settled down to feed him and watch my taped episode of The O.C. . He fell asleep in my arms and I fell asleep before the show was over. I decided to put him down on the couch beside me, since I figured he'd be up again soon. The Dog woke us up at 5:30 am! We had slept throught he night! I fed him again and the Dog put Nate in the crib and we went off to bed. I woke up at 10 am and the babe was still asleep. I woke him to change and feed him and he's sleeping again! Awesome.
So I got a great (by a new mom's standards) night's sleep and am now ready to face the world again. Perhaps I will finally pluck these nasty bush pig eyebrows of mine (I am becoming quite the sasquatch)...
Thanks to everyone for their amazing comments and emails. Your support just poured in and we are extremely grateful. We couldn't have made it through without you guys. We'll SLOWLY start seeing people over the next couple of weeks, so let us know when you'd like to visit.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
There's No Place Like Home
I think my gal Dorothy said it best: There's No Place Like Home
We busted outta hospital/prison yesterday evening to the applause and well wishes of all the NICU nurses. We came home and ceremoniously cut off the hospital tags/cuffs and tried desperately to get organized. We had to give Nate his first bath without nurse supervison (he peed all over me and the scale at the hospital, not to mention himself) and needless to say, things got a little tense between Mommy and Daddy during the bathing process. We ordered a pizza and put Nate in his crib for the first time and settled down to watch the Mario Van Peebles masterpiece (I mean that with no sarcasm) Baadasssss . Phew!
We had to watch Scout carefully to see how she would react to this new addition, but she mostly seemed cautious and curious. We did a lot of postive reinforcement to get her to be nice and stay out of his crib. Nate woke up every 3 hours or so to feed for about 45 minutes (he likes to sleep and suck intermittently) giving me a series of two hour naps in between. Perhaps later I will have to take a nap in the aft to catch up so I'm not a total zombie.
That's it for today. More photos of the cutie have been posted on the Photo Gallery link on the right here. Gonna go eat the Dog's breakfast (just kidding) and then stare at my little miracle some more. Man, who knew I could be so in love?
We busted outta hospital/prison yesterday evening to the applause and well wishes of all the NICU nurses. We came home and ceremoniously cut off the hospital tags/cuffs and tried desperately to get organized. We had to give Nate his first bath without nurse supervison (he peed all over me and the scale at the hospital, not to mention himself) and needless to say, things got a little tense between Mommy and Daddy during the bathing process. We ordered a pizza and put Nate in his crib for the first time and settled down to watch the Mario Van Peebles masterpiece (I mean that with no sarcasm) Baadasssss . Phew!
We had to watch Scout carefully to see how she would react to this new addition, but she mostly seemed cautious and curious. We did a lot of postive reinforcement to get her to be nice and stay out of his crib. Nate woke up every 3 hours or so to feed for about 45 minutes (he likes to sleep and suck intermittently) giving me a series of two hour naps in between. Perhaps later I will have to take a nap in the aft to catch up so I'm not a total zombie.
That's it for today. More photos of the cutie have been posted on the Photo Gallery link on the right here. Gonna go eat the Dog's breakfast (just kidding) and then stare at my little miracle some more. Man, who knew I could be so in love?
Monday, January 10, 2005
Introducing Nathaniel Jan Dislioglu Silverthorne!
Well folks, let me tell you...we've been for quite a ride over the past week. Brace yourselves, for what I am about to tell you is not what you thought would be the ending to this whole, me giving birth thing.
Little man Nate was born via emergency Cesarean section (14 hours after my water broke)at 4:33 pm on Sunday January 2nd, 2005. (Yes Queen Nomad, you won the bet). He weighed a robust 7 lbs 5 oz and was very hairy. It was not like the lovely C-sections you see on TLC. They did not bring him to me in a blanket. He did not cry. There were some tears of joy, but mostly tears of fear.
After they pulled him out of me and I threw up all over myself (the only time in 7 years I have seen the Dog afraid), Nate was immediately taken over to the pediatricians on the other side of the OR. He had shown signs of fetal distress during my labour(I had a fever, he had an erratic heart rate, he did a meconium poop in utero, and then his PH levels starting falling rapidly, indicating a possible lack of oxygen), so they gave him antibiotics and oxygen right away. He was unable to breathe properly by himself and was a bit blue. His APGAR test was a 3 (out of a possible 10) at 1 minute old, a 6 at 5 minutes old, and he managed to make it up to an 8 by 10 minutes old. Phew!
The Dog got to cut the cord, which was nice, but I did not get to see him. Nate was rushed into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) for monitoring. It took them 5 minutes to get hime out of me and 20 minutes to put me back together. I was heavily anaesthetized from the chest down and wheeled into the recovery room until my legs could move again. I felt like Uma in Kill Bill, chanting over and over, "Wiggle your right toe" so that I could walk sooner and get to baby. The Dog kept running back and forth between me and Nate, taking digital photos for me and coming back to report that Nate was doing fine.
3-4 hours after delivery, the Dog rounded the corner with a present for me. I got to hold my little boy for the first time. We had some major skin-to-skin bonding time and soon he was nursing! It was like a dream come true.
The dream, however, rapidly turned into a nightmare. While I was holding him, his right arm and leg started "rockin' out to the beat." Though we had eye contact and he seemed somewhat alert and calm, I could tell he had no control over this tick. I called the nurse over right away and the NICU pediatricians ran in to snatch him away from me once again and take him for observation. (Of course the cheeky monkey stopped doing it 10 seconds before the doctors showed up.)
I went to the post-partum floor to rest and the Dog spent much of the night back and forth between me and our son in the NICU. Nate had more seizure activity throughout the night and over the next two days. He was heavily sedated on Pheno-Barbitol until Thursday. So on top of the anti-convulsants (even on which he has some breakthrough seizures), they also gave him antibiotics in case I had passed my infection onto him and that inflamation due to infection may have caused the seizures.
They intibated him on Monday (put tubes in his lungs to help him breathe) because he had some apnia attacks (stopped breathing) because Pheno-Barb causes the brain to forget to breathe even in adults, let alone a day-old baby! I saw an apnia attack and was totally upset by it. Imagine sitting by your baby, he's in a glass box, and suddenly his O2 levels start dropping drastically. Then I had to watch the nurses resucitate him. It was horrible. Add that to the facr that the first seizure happened right in my arms and you had a psychologically damaged woman who was scared to touch her baby, never mind just be around him.
Over the course of the days, the doctors changed their stories many times. The first thought was that he had kicked or grabbed his cord, causing prenatal asphyxiation, thus comprimising the oxygen supply to his brain. The seizures were his body's way of telling us there was some insult to the brain. The next step was to find out what the next step was.
On Tuesday night (2-days-old) he was sent to Sick Kids (The world-reknowned Hospital for Sick Children) overnight to have an EEG, Evoked Potentials and an MRI (yes, suddenly I am on ER and forced to learn what these things mean). The Dog was by his side the entire time. I can't even get into what an amazing man he has become over the past week. He is my rock.
I have been a basket case. Between having MAJOR surgery, trying to milk myself like a cow in case my comatose baby could learn to eat, waking up instinctively 10 times a night on the post-partum floor for every crying baby -- only to realize that my baby was not with me -- well let's just say this was not my vision of motherhood.
Thursday they took him off all the drugs and took the breathing tubes out to see if he would be OK on his own. Slowly but surely he came around. He slept a lot, but began taking breast milk from a tube in his nose. By Friday, with the Dog and my sis-in-law standing around me encouraging both me and Nate, we tried him out at the breast and he took to it like nobody's business! Each hour he has improved and slowly but surely has decided to be a normal baby. Last night, we even got to have a trial sleepover in one of the parent rooms and today, I am ecstatic to report that we are busting outta this joint!
We still don't know what happened to baby Nate. They are still doing more tests...now they think a blood clot got lodged in his brain. Sure! Blood clot better than asphyxia you tell me? I'll take blood clot for $1000 Alex! They have scared us into thinking he might have permanent brain damage leading to motor skill issues leading to Cerebral Palsy (still a slight possibility). They have thrown everything in the book at us and 8 days later I just feel like -- Who cares? He is a normal, happy baby who barely cries, loves to eat boob, explore the world around him and sleeps well through the night. We will monitor him closely and should he show any signs of development issues, we'll cross that bridge when we get there.
We are fortunate enought to live in a country where our taxes pay for the $3500/day it costs to keep a baby in the NICU. After my discharge from post-partum, the parent room they provided us with was free. Every single nurse we have come across at Women's College Hospital has been nothing but caring and supportive, constantly checking to see if I was OK, but also checking in on Nate in the NICU (he has made lots of girlfriends down there!). There are physical therapists, occupational therapists, lactation consultants and social workers all following our developments. Everyone is rooting for us to get home and start our new life. I cannot express my gratitude to the staff at this hospital enough and I totally recommend that anyone in Toronto should have their baby here.
Somehow through this all, I have found the strength to remain positive, to rally the troops and keep the spirits of my support people up so that they can continue to have the energy to support me. Sista Sunshine has been amazing, giving the Dog some nights off to go home and rest (support people need support too) and staying with me, buying me gifts and magazines and making me remember to laugh. I could not have gotten through this without her and the Dog in particular, but the most amazing good thing that has come out of this nightmare has been how our two immediate families have come together to help us out in our time of need. Food and hugs and enouragement -- wow! The other amazing thing has been the small group of friends whom we let know about this trying time. We wanted to wait to tell people until we had some answers or improvements and had dealt with how we felt about all this.
This experience has also brought me back to my faith. We had people all across the globe, praying or just sending good healing energy to little Nate, encouraging him to get better with their thoughts. I truly think that a combination of science and spirituality is the best prescription in situations like these. Thank you all for thinking of us and keeping us in your prayers. We couldn't have made it through without you.
If you click in the "Photo Gallery" link on the right, I think the Dog put some preliminary photos of the little eskimo up. His face has changed a lot and I will add photos of my gorgeous babe for y'all when I finally get home.
OK, off to see what we have to do to spring out of here today. Thanks again, Mommy.
Little man Nate was born via emergency Cesarean section (14 hours after my water broke)at 4:33 pm on Sunday January 2nd, 2005. (Yes Queen Nomad, you won the bet). He weighed a robust 7 lbs 5 oz and was very hairy. It was not like the lovely C-sections you see on TLC. They did not bring him to me in a blanket. He did not cry. There were some tears of joy, but mostly tears of fear.
After they pulled him out of me and I threw up all over myself (the only time in 7 years I have seen the Dog afraid), Nate was immediately taken over to the pediatricians on the other side of the OR. He had shown signs of fetal distress during my labour(I had a fever, he had an erratic heart rate, he did a meconium poop in utero, and then his PH levels starting falling rapidly, indicating a possible lack of oxygen), so they gave him antibiotics and oxygen right away. He was unable to breathe properly by himself and was a bit blue. His APGAR test was a 3 (out of a possible 10) at 1 minute old, a 6 at 5 minutes old, and he managed to make it up to an 8 by 10 minutes old. Phew!
The Dog got to cut the cord, which was nice, but I did not get to see him. Nate was rushed into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) for monitoring. It took them 5 minutes to get hime out of me and 20 minutes to put me back together. I was heavily anaesthetized from the chest down and wheeled into the recovery room until my legs could move again. I felt like Uma in Kill Bill, chanting over and over, "Wiggle your right toe" so that I could walk sooner and get to baby. The Dog kept running back and forth between me and Nate, taking digital photos for me and coming back to report that Nate was doing fine.
3-4 hours after delivery, the Dog rounded the corner with a present for me. I got to hold my little boy for the first time. We had some major skin-to-skin bonding time and soon he was nursing! It was like a dream come true.
The dream, however, rapidly turned into a nightmare. While I was holding him, his right arm and leg started "rockin' out to the beat." Though we had eye contact and he seemed somewhat alert and calm, I could tell he had no control over this tick. I called the nurse over right away and the NICU pediatricians ran in to snatch him away from me once again and take him for observation. (Of course the cheeky monkey stopped doing it 10 seconds before the doctors showed up.)
I went to the post-partum floor to rest and the Dog spent much of the night back and forth between me and our son in the NICU. Nate had more seizure activity throughout the night and over the next two days. He was heavily sedated on Pheno-Barbitol until Thursday. So on top of the anti-convulsants (even on which he has some breakthrough seizures), they also gave him antibiotics in case I had passed my infection onto him and that inflamation due to infection may have caused the seizures.
They intibated him on Monday (put tubes in his lungs to help him breathe) because he had some apnia attacks (stopped breathing) because Pheno-Barb causes the brain to forget to breathe even in adults, let alone a day-old baby! I saw an apnia attack and was totally upset by it. Imagine sitting by your baby, he's in a glass box, and suddenly his O2 levels start dropping drastically. Then I had to watch the nurses resucitate him. It was horrible. Add that to the facr that the first seizure happened right in my arms and you had a psychologically damaged woman who was scared to touch her baby, never mind just be around him.
Over the course of the days, the doctors changed their stories many times. The first thought was that he had kicked or grabbed his cord, causing prenatal asphyxiation, thus comprimising the oxygen supply to his brain. The seizures were his body's way of telling us there was some insult to the brain. The next step was to find out what the next step was.
On Tuesday night (2-days-old) he was sent to Sick Kids (The world-reknowned Hospital for Sick Children) overnight to have an EEG, Evoked Potentials and an MRI (yes, suddenly I am on ER and forced to learn what these things mean). The Dog was by his side the entire time. I can't even get into what an amazing man he has become over the past week. He is my rock.
I have been a basket case. Between having MAJOR surgery, trying to milk myself like a cow in case my comatose baby could learn to eat, waking up instinctively 10 times a night on the post-partum floor for every crying baby -- only to realize that my baby was not with me -- well let's just say this was not my vision of motherhood.
Thursday they took him off all the drugs and took the breathing tubes out to see if he would be OK on his own. Slowly but surely he came around. He slept a lot, but began taking breast milk from a tube in his nose. By Friday, with the Dog and my sis-in-law standing around me encouraging both me and Nate, we tried him out at the breast and he took to it like nobody's business! Each hour he has improved and slowly but surely has decided to be a normal baby. Last night, we even got to have a trial sleepover in one of the parent rooms and today, I am ecstatic to report that we are busting outta this joint!
We still don't know what happened to baby Nate. They are still doing more tests...now they think a blood clot got lodged in his brain. Sure! Blood clot better than asphyxia you tell me? I'll take blood clot for $1000 Alex! They have scared us into thinking he might have permanent brain damage leading to motor skill issues leading to Cerebral Palsy (still a slight possibility). They have thrown everything in the book at us and 8 days later I just feel like -- Who cares? He is a normal, happy baby who barely cries, loves to eat boob, explore the world around him and sleeps well through the night. We will monitor him closely and should he show any signs of development issues, we'll cross that bridge when we get there.
We are fortunate enought to live in a country where our taxes pay for the $3500/day it costs to keep a baby in the NICU. After my discharge from post-partum, the parent room they provided us with was free. Every single nurse we have come across at Women's College Hospital has been nothing but caring and supportive, constantly checking to see if I was OK, but also checking in on Nate in the NICU (he has made lots of girlfriends down there!). There are physical therapists, occupational therapists, lactation consultants and social workers all following our developments. Everyone is rooting for us to get home and start our new life. I cannot express my gratitude to the staff at this hospital enough and I totally recommend that anyone in Toronto should have their baby here.
Somehow through this all, I have found the strength to remain positive, to rally the troops and keep the spirits of my support people up so that they can continue to have the energy to support me. Sista Sunshine has been amazing, giving the Dog some nights off to go home and rest (support people need support too) and staying with me, buying me gifts and magazines and making me remember to laugh. I could not have gotten through this without her and the Dog in particular, but the most amazing good thing that has come out of this nightmare has been how our two immediate families have come together to help us out in our time of need. Food and hugs and enouragement -- wow! The other amazing thing has been the small group of friends whom we let know about this trying time. We wanted to wait to tell people until we had some answers or improvements and had dealt with how we felt about all this.
This experience has also brought me back to my faith. We had people all across the globe, praying or just sending good healing energy to little Nate, encouraging him to get better with their thoughts. I truly think that a combination of science and spirituality is the best prescription in situations like these. Thank you all for thinking of us and keeping us in your prayers. We couldn't have made it through without you.
If you click in the "Photo Gallery" link on the right, I think the Dog put some preliminary photos of the little eskimo up. His face has changed a lot and I will add photos of my gorgeous babe for y'all when I finally get home.
OK, off to see what we have to do to spring out of here today. Thanks again, Mommy.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Labour Day!
HAPPY 2005! No baby yet, but some news.
***MAJOR GROSS ALERT***
So as luck would have it, at approximately 5 minutes to 7 last night, my mucous plug fell out. And let me tell you, once you see it, there is no doubt in your mind that it's the MP. It can only be decribed, rather crudely, as cafe-au-lait coloured "pussy snot".
We had dinner reservations for 7 and of course I was running late, trying to look good for what may be the last time in a long time. (Queen Nomad and I were discussing this morning how I would undoubtedly turn into a bushpig during labour.) I realized that I had forgotten to put a pantyliner on and when I went to do it, I noticed something gooey. I peed, wiped, and realized that there was some serious brown goop. So serious in fact that the toilet paper wasn't going to cut it. I had to scoop it out by hand! That's how much there was! It had a consistency halfway between snot and that stuff you find in magazines that sticks the extra mini-mags to the main mag. SO NASTY!!
Suddenly I freaked and went into Stepford mode, finishing my makeup application and heading out for dinner with the Dog. I knew that this signalled that I was in Phase One Labour: Early Stage and that this meant I could have the baby within the next 2-3 days. So we walked up to the restaurant in silence. The Dog refused to admit he was nervous at all. We had some maki at this haute Japanese restaurant that ended up not being all that. I did indulge in a tiny bit of raw tuna since I figured I was nearing the end of this pregnancy thing. I went to the bathroom twice while at the restaurant and found more gobs of "blood-tinged mucous." Greeeeeeat.
***GROSS ALERT OVER***
My tummy was pretty tight throughout the night. We walked back home, very slowly, and cuddled up on the couch to watch the latest Chris Rock HBO special, Never Scared . Man, was it ever good!! I highly recommend it. The man speaks the truth about America and marriage and all kinds of things that we've all thought about and makes you laugh your ass off. What a treat. Totally took my mind off my discomfort. There was a bonus feature on the DVD that showed one of his first HBO half hour specials and I fell asleep for that, waking up 10 minutes before midnight to do the countdown and kiss the Doggy.
After midnight, I decided that I should try to rest and sleep since the contractions were (and still are) manageable. The Dog, however, started wiggin' out. He was putting up curtains at 12:15! He was grumbling about a bunch of stuff he had to finish and how he was so upset with us for not getting these things done. So I snapped at him, " Look, you are stressing me out when I have to chill. Sit your ass down and play Ms. Pacman or some shit until I fall asleep!"
So he poured himself a brandy and did just that. And I fell asleep and got a pretty good stretch of sleeping for a change. Did not wake up until 5:30 am. After that, it was tough to get back to sleep. But I had a few more naps until I decided to give it up and call Queen Nomad, who moved to Paris yesterday.
I just want to say good luck to QN. It has been her lifelong dream to live in Paris. After 3 years of travelling around from place to place, she finally made it there. I hope 2005 fulfills all her Parisienne dreams. Although I am always bugging her to come home to Toronto so we can suffer through this baby shit (no pun intended) together, I am also partially hoping she makes it there long enough for me to come for a few visits. Paris is undoubtedly one of my favourite cities—definitely in the Top 3. Anyway, best of luck QN. I love you and wish you the best this year. We survived another year apart and can still say we're best friends.
Wow. It's freakin' 2005 and I'm going to have a baby! Any day now! Maybe even today! On time! As scheduled!
Happy New Year to you all! I hope that 2005 brings you as many blessings as it will for me. Thanks for all your good wishes. This early stage of labour could take some time, and I'll do my best to keep you posted, but I may not have anything to say until I actually have a baby in my arms. Love you all.
~Scarbie Doll
***MAJOR GROSS ALERT***
So as luck would have it, at approximately 5 minutes to 7 last night, my mucous plug fell out. And let me tell you, once you see it, there is no doubt in your mind that it's the MP. It can only be decribed, rather crudely, as cafe-au-lait coloured "pussy snot".
We had dinner reservations for 7 and of course I was running late, trying to look good for what may be the last time in a long time. (Queen Nomad and I were discussing this morning how I would undoubtedly turn into a bushpig during labour.) I realized that I had forgotten to put a pantyliner on and when I went to do it, I noticed something gooey. I peed, wiped, and realized that there was some serious brown goop. So serious in fact that the toilet paper wasn't going to cut it. I had to scoop it out by hand! That's how much there was! It had a consistency halfway between snot and that stuff you find in magazines that sticks the extra mini-mags to the main mag. SO NASTY!!
Suddenly I freaked and went into Stepford mode, finishing my makeup application and heading out for dinner with the Dog. I knew that this signalled that I was in Phase One Labour: Early Stage and that this meant I could have the baby within the next 2-3 days. So we walked up to the restaurant in silence. The Dog refused to admit he was nervous at all. We had some maki at this haute Japanese restaurant that ended up not being all that. I did indulge in a tiny bit of raw tuna since I figured I was nearing the end of this pregnancy thing. I went to the bathroom twice while at the restaurant and found more gobs of "blood-tinged mucous." Greeeeeeat.
***GROSS ALERT OVER***
My tummy was pretty tight throughout the night. We walked back home, very slowly, and cuddled up on the couch to watch the latest Chris Rock HBO special, Never Scared . Man, was it ever good!! I highly recommend it. The man speaks the truth about America and marriage and all kinds of things that we've all thought about and makes you laugh your ass off. What a treat. Totally took my mind off my discomfort. There was a bonus feature on the DVD that showed one of his first HBO half hour specials and I fell asleep for that, waking up 10 minutes before midnight to do the countdown and kiss the Doggy.
After midnight, I decided that I should try to rest and sleep since the contractions were (and still are) manageable. The Dog, however, started wiggin' out. He was putting up curtains at 12:15! He was grumbling about a bunch of stuff he had to finish and how he was so upset with us for not getting these things done. So I snapped at him, " Look, you are stressing me out when I have to chill. Sit your ass down and play Ms. Pacman or some shit until I fall asleep!"
So he poured himself a brandy and did just that. And I fell asleep and got a pretty good stretch of sleeping for a change. Did not wake up until 5:30 am. After that, it was tough to get back to sleep. But I had a few more naps until I decided to give it up and call Queen Nomad, who moved to Paris yesterday.
I just want to say good luck to QN. It has been her lifelong dream to live in Paris. After 3 years of travelling around from place to place, she finally made it there. I hope 2005 fulfills all her Parisienne dreams. Although I am always bugging her to come home to Toronto so we can suffer through this baby shit (no pun intended) together, I am also partially hoping she makes it there long enough for me to come for a few visits. Paris is undoubtedly one of my favourite cities—definitely in the Top 3. Anyway, best of luck QN. I love you and wish you the best this year. We survived another year apart and can still say we're best friends.
Wow. It's freakin' 2005 and I'm going to have a baby! Any day now! Maybe even today! On time! As scheduled!
Happy New Year to you all! I hope that 2005 brings you as many blessings as it will for me. Thanks for all your good wishes. This early stage of labour could take some time, and I'll do my best to keep you posted, but I may not have anything to say until I actually have a baby in my arms. Love you all.
~Scarbie Doll
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