Just to refresh everyone, I am pregnant. Very much so. I am constrained to remind everyone of this for two key reasons. One, this is a pregnancy blog and that nomenclature informs the majority of what we do over here. But as the maker of this baby and this blog I have a moral duty to inform you of what you’re getting involved in by getting involved in this. After scanning the “Pregnancy” category on WordPress last night, it’s with a heavy heart that I admit that my blog falls into this dubious genre. Sticky sweet feel-goodery, snapshots of Baby’s room, lots and lots of apologies for month-long absences that (honestly) no one really noticed anyway, and the illusion that what I’m going through retains any shred of originality or novelty (yeah, a couple of people have done this before.) This is why I love the tagline of Broken Condoms’ blog: “a mommy blog for those who never wanted to read/author a mommy blog.” Blogging about my pregnancy brings out a rare breed of self-loathing in me that is only matched by my admission that I watch The Biggest Loser.
I guess the real fear is the transitioning of this pregnancy blog into the dreaded Mommy Blog in only a few weeks. I don’t need to detail the risks involved in that, but I’ll summarize. The good mommy blogs are fantastic and the bad ones are massively dreadful and the bane of all the cool kids’ existences.
Yeah, I just went there.
And the good ones account for about 10% of the entire lot. That’s a generous estimate too. I’m just saying that my inclusion into that 10% is doubtful. And that makes me sad. (See aforementioned self-loathing.)
With the PSA over with, the second reason why I need to remind you that I’m pregnant:
I forgot about the whole thing myself. This is no example of “pregnancy brain” either. More like “pregnancy amnesia.” This morning was the rarest of times when I woke up and forgot that I have a massive baby straddling my torso. I assume that since I (the maker and host of the Bebe) forgot about her for a moment, you (the onlookers who hopefully lead enriching lives that aren’t centered around some stranger who talks about her pregnancy on the Internet) would forget way more easily. And in the vein of reminding you of what you’re reading (moral obligation and all), I’m just reminding you.
So I awoke and made my breakfast of egg and toast in complete oblivion. Shower time, which is when I’m most aware of my massivity, passed by with complete normalcy. I dressed and for the first time in months I was completely unaware of the editing of my closet into maternity clothes and regular clothes. My regular clothes may as well have been prom dresses or Halloween costumes that would never be considered for everyday wear.
I finally remembered the Beebs when I was passing through the bathroom to go to the kitchen and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Here is what I saw:
But really, this was just a lapse in our conscious. B and I are ready to do this thang. Since I’ll be full-term this week, I took the opportunity to pack our bag for the hospital this weekend. At childbirth class last weekend, B started creating a list of must-bring items, and I was diligent to include them all in the bag:
I am as prepared for childbirth as I’m going to be, especially with Mariah Carey as my doula. Although I think we all know she may make the whole experience about her. I really wanted Erykah Badu, but you can’t have it all.
As supportive as B is of me during mine and Bebe’s upcoming ordeal, he’s been a little squeamish about his role in the birthing process. But he’s been preparing by watching lots of Bear Grylls eating all kinds of nastiness clips. This has proven to be a good tactic for overcoming the barfiness that childbirth may induce.
We feel like Bebe is already here with us most of the time, so we of course talk to her and shine flashlights on her to make her know that we (really) haven’t forgotten her. But in order to train ourselves for the very real changes our household will undergo once she arrives, we have implemented a couple new practices. First, it being Spring Break at the local elementary and middle schools, we have kindly requested that the delightful children in our apartment complex awaken from 3 to 4 AM and play with their RC cars right outside our building to ensure that we are awake at these times. They have had no problem fulfilling our request and we are grateful for it.
However, during those times when the local children are off setting cats on fire and not playing with their cars, B and I need to implement our own system of preparing for Bebe’s yelps. We’ve YouTubed what infants sound like when they cry and determined that they sound like matter-of-fact baby raptors who just want one more goat to gnaw on. When it’s been quiet for awhile, we yelp at each others with these tones and continue until the other person figures out what the young wants.
We are going to be awesome parents. I think.
Talking Heads “Once in a Lifetime”
Bear Grylls “Man Vs. Wild” Discovery Channel