In an effort to put off the inevitability that this will become a Mommy Blog, I have refrained from posting too many stories about my pregnancy. But, I couldn't let this one go.
For the last month and a half, or so, I've been getting shooting pains in my cervix. I am currently 33 weeks pregnant, so there is no real likelihood that this has been any sort of labor indication.
When I first presented this "uncomfortable feeling" (read: feels like Freddy Krueger is knifing my cervix in a dark alley next to a dumpster, while tiny fingers and/or toes attempt to dislodge themselves from the comfort of my uterus and sneak out for a quick diddle), Doc checked that everything was closed up and told me not to worry. Two weeks later, when the pain was still hanging around, Doc told me it was typical pregnancy vaginal pain. I politely disagreed with her... I'm not new here... I have had my share of cervical pokes from multiple angles with multiple tools. This is CERVICAL pain. Ultimately she decided she hadn't really heard of such a thing, but that I probably have a very sensitive cervix and that the swoosh of amniotic fluid is irritating some nerves (I, at this point, feel compelled to jump to the conclusion that labor might be extra painful for someone with a "sensitive cervix" - For real... if I can feel the amniotic fluid, imagine what dilation is going to feel like!!! Can I get an epidural now?)
Fast forward to the previously mentioned trip to the ER. Julie, the lovely Midwife, asked about anything out of the ordinary and I mentioned the semi-regular rendezvous with Mr. Krueger. She said she has heard the complaint a few times in the last few months and the only thing she or any of the docs on the L&D floor can come up with is that it is a sensitive cervix. HOORAY!
I am still told this is nothing to worry about... but, me being me, had to find out what other people are experiencing... I'm not paranoid, I just want to be educated. So this evening, I Googled "Pregnant Cervical Pain" and quite a few postings came up. The one that is most intriguing to me is the name that some Doctors have given it....... you guessed it............ Vagina Knives. LAUGHED MY ASS OFF!!! Perfect name, really. So, I have Vagina Knives. I'm not sure if it sounds more like a Porn Star, a Tarantino character or a species on Star Trek, but I am DAMN amused.
Vagina Knives!! HA!
Sincerely,
Love,
Signing Off,
Vagina Knives
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Multi-tasking
After a VERY lazy Sunday, yesterday, I fell asleep on the couch around midnight. Husband is not a fan of me missing from our bed, so he woke me up around 3:20am to finish my slumber in the comforts of our own room.
Before I went back to sleep, I stopped in the bathroom to pee and felt like there was a giant gas bubble right under the placenta. I ignored it, because at 3:20am, I want to ignore such things. But, alas, ignoring the bubble lead to movement of the bubble... to my back. To my lower right back to be specific. And then, it was all downhill from there...
For the next two hours, I moaned and groaned and shifted positions and tried to squeeze whatever pain this was OUT... I tried pooping, I tried massaging, I tried crying and throwing a tantrum, but nothing would move this pain... it was an excruciating pain... one I thought was probably not good for the baby. OH MY GOD, AM I IN LABOR???? No, I decided... I was not... but I probably oughta call my doctor. Two hours straight of writhing in pain cannot be normal.
I'm a considerate wife. I let Husband continue his sleep until his normal wake-up time of 5:30. At which point, I told him I was pretty sure he was going to have to call in so that we could take a trip to the Emergency Room. I had also come to the conclusion that this must be coming from my kidney. Pain radiating from my back around to the front rhythmically in waves... AND NOT BUDGING FROM THAT SPOT. I wanted to jab a crochet hook into my kidney in hopes that it would relieve some of the pressure I was feeling.
I called my Doctor, who was a little irritated that I was calling at 5:30 in the morning (I didn't mention that I could have called her at 3:30, but opted against it, on the off chance it was gas... how embarrassing would that have been?!?) She told me that she didn't know what it was and couldn't rule out a pregnancy complication and that, yes, it WOULD be a good idea to take a run to the ER. (I, of course, didn't know which ER to go to... she is affiliated with TWO hospitals, each 1/2 hour away, but I have three within 10 minutes of my house that she ISN'T affiliated with. If this was a complication... I needed to be at one of her two hospitals. She sent me to my lesser favorite. Ugh)
As I tried to convince Husband that this was NOT labor, while becoming less and less convinced myself, I took a shower and put on some pants (if anyone was going to be near my Private Bits, I thought they'd appreciate it). We headed to Royal Oak at 6:30. And, of course, had to stop for gas and something to drink. Husband also needed some Hostess mini-Donettes.
As we approached the hospital, the pain was more and more intense and I started fearing that our son was going to find a way to arrive today and I started panicking that the room isn't done! Nothing is put together! I don't even HAVE a bag packed yet! As we made the last turn toward the hospital, the pain was out of control, I wanted to throw up, I wanted to lie down, I want to scream, I wanted to cut a tiny hole in my side and reach in with my fingers to pinch whatever this God awful pain was just to make it stop... this...is...not...good...huff huff huff... and then, as we pulled into the drive toward emergency....... it stopped. Completely. And I breathed. For the first time in three and a half hours, I felt relief. Sweet, sweet, painless movement. And after the initial relief...my first thought was... MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???? A kidney stone? REALLY? Because being eight months pregnant isn't getting uncomfortable enough, let's throw in a FUCKING KIDNEY STONE! And on top of that, I'm about to walk into the ER with "some mild tenderness in my kidney area" - oh yeah, they love that in the ER of the biggest, busiest hospital in Oakland County. "Yes, ma'am, we'll see your mild tenderness right after we remove a bullet lodged in this gentleman's skull and resuscitate this elderly woman who fell and couldn't get up. Oops, Med-Flight just showed up from that REALLY bad 5 car pile up from the freeway... sure we'll get to your mild tenderness soon" FUCK! If the pain had wanted to cooperate AT ALL, it would have had the decency to subside AFTER I checked in, for crying out loud!
On the upside, when you're 33 weeks pregnant, they take you to Labor and Delivery instead of make you wait in the ER. Once they wheeled my ass through the gi-normous hospital and up two floors, I was immediately given the chance to pee into a cup, put into a curtain and hooked up to a monitor for a non-stress test. When the Nurse Midwife (Julie) came in to find out what was going on, I explained to her that, although I was pretty sure it was a kidney stone, could they double check that for me? Great, thanks!! So, no IV, no gown, a little apple juice and 40 minutes on the heart rate monitor later... I got to sleep for a little while waiting for the results of my urinalysis to HOPEFULLY show some blood, just so the morning wasn't a total waste. Great news! There was blood! Indicating, most likely, that it was, in fact, a kidney stone. Whew. By 9:30, we were discharged. So, we went to McDonalds. When we got home, I went pee just before I took a nap and as I was flushing the toilet, I am pretty sure I saw the stone, but didn't have time to reach in for it before it went down. So, I slept. Like a baby. From 11am to 4pm. And it felt good. And now, I have to go to the grocery store.
I am woman, hear my roar, I can carry a baby AND pass a kidney stone at the same time... what did YOU do today???
Before I went back to sleep, I stopped in the bathroom to pee and felt like there was a giant gas bubble right under the placenta. I ignored it, because at 3:20am, I want to ignore such things. But, alas, ignoring the bubble lead to movement of the bubble... to my back. To my lower right back to be specific. And then, it was all downhill from there...
For the next two hours, I moaned and groaned and shifted positions and tried to squeeze whatever pain this was OUT... I tried pooping, I tried massaging, I tried crying and throwing a tantrum, but nothing would move this pain... it was an excruciating pain... one I thought was probably not good for the baby. OH MY GOD, AM I IN LABOR???? No, I decided... I was not... but I probably oughta call my doctor. Two hours straight of writhing in pain cannot be normal.
I'm a considerate wife. I let Husband continue his sleep until his normal wake-up time of 5:30. At which point, I told him I was pretty sure he was going to have to call in so that we could take a trip to the Emergency Room. I had also come to the conclusion that this must be coming from my kidney. Pain radiating from my back around to the front rhythmically in waves... AND NOT BUDGING FROM THAT SPOT. I wanted to jab a crochet hook into my kidney in hopes that it would relieve some of the pressure I was feeling.
I called my Doctor, who was a little irritated that I was calling at 5:30 in the morning (I didn't mention that I could have called her at 3:30, but opted against it, on the off chance it was gas... how embarrassing would that have been?!?) She told me that she didn't know what it was and couldn't rule out a pregnancy complication and that, yes, it WOULD be a good idea to take a run to the ER. (I, of course, didn't know which ER to go to... she is affiliated with TWO hospitals, each 1/2 hour away, but I have three within 10 minutes of my house that she ISN'T affiliated with. If this was a complication... I needed to be at one of her two hospitals. She sent me to my lesser favorite. Ugh)
As I tried to convince Husband that this was NOT labor, while becoming less and less convinced myself, I took a shower and put on some pants (if anyone was going to be near my Private Bits, I thought they'd appreciate it). We headed to Royal Oak at 6:30. And, of course, had to stop for gas and something to drink. Husband also needed some Hostess mini-Donettes.
As we approached the hospital, the pain was more and more intense and I started fearing that our son was going to find a way to arrive today and I started panicking that the room isn't done! Nothing is put together! I don't even HAVE a bag packed yet! As we made the last turn toward the hospital, the pain was out of control, I wanted to throw up, I wanted to lie down, I want to scream, I wanted to cut a tiny hole in my side and reach in with my fingers to pinch whatever this God awful pain was just to make it stop... this...is...not...good...huff huff huff... and then, as we pulled into the drive toward emergency....... it stopped. Completely. And I breathed. For the first time in three and a half hours, I felt relief. Sweet, sweet, painless movement. And after the initial relief...my first thought was... MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???? A kidney stone? REALLY? Because being eight months pregnant isn't getting uncomfortable enough, let's throw in a FUCKING KIDNEY STONE! And on top of that, I'm about to walk into the ER with "some mild tenderness in my kidney area" - oh yeah, they love that in the ER of the biggest, busiest hospital in Oakland County. "Yes, ma'am, we'll see your mild tenderness right after we remove a bullet lodged in this gentleman's skull and resuscitate this elderly woman who fell and couldn't get up. Oops, Med-Flight just showed up from that REALLY bad 5 car pile up from the freeway... sure we'll get to your mild tenderness soon" FUCK! If the pain had wanted to cooperate AT ALL, it would have had the decency to subside AFTER I checked in, for crying out loud!
On the upside, when you're 33 weeks pregnant, they take you to Labor and Delivery instead of make you wait in the ER. Once they wheeled my ass through the gi-normous hospital and up two floors, I was immediately given the chance to pee into a cup, put into a curtain and hooked up to a monitor for a non-stress test. When the Nurse Midwife (Julie) came in to find out what was going on, I explained to her that, although I was pretty sure it was a kidney stone, could they double check that for me? Great, thanks!! So, no IV, no gown, a little apple juice and 40 minutes on the heart rate monitor later... I got to sleep for a little while waiting for the results of my urinalysis to HOPEFULLY show some blood, just so the morning wasn't a total waste. Great news! There was blood! Indicating, most likely, that it was, in fact, a kidney stone. Whew. By 9:30, we were discharged. So, we went to McDonalds. When we got home, I went pee just before I took a nap and as I was flushing the toilet, I am pretty sure I saw the stone, but didn't have time to reach in for it before it went down. So, I slept. Like a baby. From 11am to 4pm. And it felt good. And now, I have to go to the grocery store.
I am woman, hear my roar, I can carry a baby AND pass a kidney stone at the same time... what did YOU do today???
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Ode To Riesling
Oh, my Riesling, you sweet, sweet wine
I've missed you terribly
The way you've always been there for me and my friends
The way you've never failed me
(except that one time I bought that one kind with a screw cap on accident)
Your role in foreplay
Your role in entertaining
Your role in making me funny and outgoing, if only until I fall asleep
Your availability
Your unique bottles
The beauty that is my Vinotemp
Loaded from top to bottom with you
And when used in a blend, you fulfill all of my wine fantasies
Only a few more months my sweet
And we can be alone
I won't share you
I won't waste you
But I will not need the Wine Saver either
I've missed you terribly
The way you've always been there for me and my friends
The way you've never failed me
(except that one time I bought that one kind with a screw cap on accident)
Your role in foreplay
Your role in entertaining
Your role in making me funny and outgoing, if only until I fall asleep
Your availability
Your unique bottles
The beauty that is my Vinotemp
Loaded from top to bottom with you
And when used in a blend, you fulfill all of my wine fantasies
Only a few more months my sweet
And we can be alone
I won't share you
I won't waste you
But I will not need the Wine Saver either
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Quote(s) Of The Month
A little something for everyone:
a) "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture - it's a really stupid thing to want to do." --Elvis Costello - 1983
b) You might be a DJ if (excerpt):
*You excitedly turn up the radio at the sound of "dead air" on the competitors station
*You have several old air-check cassettes in a cardboard box in your closet that you would never let anyone listen to...but, you'll never throw them out or record over them. NOT EVER!
c) A man once asked "How come we choose from just two people to run for president and 50 for Miss America?" - Author Unknown
My version of that query: Why do we start with less than 20 people running for President, but THOUSANDS running for American Idol? Also, shouldn't our President be the ORIGINAL American idol?
d) "I think I mentioned to Bob [Geldof - Live Aid organizer] I could make love for eight hours. What I didn't say was that this included four hours of begging and then dinner and a movie." -- Sting [on the story that he could last EIGHT HOURS using Tantric Sex techniques (thereby single-handedly increasing sales of all Tantra books worldwide and possibly being at fault for a large number of Emergency Room visits by men whose wives forced them into Tantric positions)...]
Happy Long Weekend!
Unless you live in another country
a) "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture - it's a really stupid thing to want to do." --Elvis Costello - 1983
b) You might be a DJ if (excerpt):
*You excitedly turn up the radio at the sound of "dead air" on the competitors station
*You have several old air-check cassettes in a cardboard box in your closet that you would never let anyone listen to...but, you'll never throw them out or record over them. NOT EVER!
c) A man once asked "How come we choose from just two people to run for president and 50 for Miss America?" - Author Unknown
My version of that query: Why do we start with less than 20 people running for President, but THOUSANDS running for American Idol? Also, shouldn't our President be the ORIGINAL American idol?
d) "I think I mentioned to Bob [Geldof - Live Aid organizer] I could make love for eight hours. What I didn't say was that this included four hours of begging and then dinner and a movie." -- Sting [on the story that he could last EIGHT HOURS using Tantric Sex techniques (thereby single-handedly increasing sales of all Tantra books worldwide and possibly being at fault for a large number of Emergency Room visits by men whose wives forced them into Tantric positions)...]
Happy Long Weekend!
Unless you live in another country
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Today's Random Acts
What a day.
Woke up later than was practical if a shower was to fit into morning before 8:30 work meeting (the kind where they lock the doors to the office and you have to do the "I get here later than you" walk of shame into the meeting where everyone stares at you) - skipped shower, hair in bun.
Nearly nodded off REPEATEDLY at desk... ate to keep myself awake... didn't work (still waiting for someone to tell me how to start my website)
Have been brought to or nearly brought to tears over and over since Friday (please hold any trite comments regarding "prego" emotions - K? Thanks.) so I left work at 12:30 because I wanted to wallow and laze and be alone and work is conducive to NONE of those things.
Got in car, bawled, came home, ate leftover pizza, slept for four hours, woke up when Husband got home from work, chatted, cried, played online puzzles (cuz, evidently, I'm turning into my grandmother, with no other goals in life than to get hammered and finish the fucking Anacrostic! What's next? Wheel of Fortune and bed at 7:30p?? - God rest her soul...), went for Ice Cream with Husband (decided Baskin Robbins is a corporate Nazi and will no longer be spending my money there), came back home, watched The Baby Borrowers (decided a) it's my new favorite show and b) I already want to smother a few of the girls with my leopard print pillow, then slap their unconscious little faces until they wake up and I can shave their eyebrows off with a rusty razor, all in hopes that sense will come to them through torture), then ate dinner (cuz I'm an adult and can eat things in that order, so HA!) while watching Celebrity Circus (and hoping upon hope that there's no one I really like on the show because I do NOT need one more Celebreality show lined up on my Tivo).
So, here I am... a full day behind me... promising I'll only solve ONE MORE puzzle and then head off to bed with hopes that this day was a blip and I don't have to come up with some fake pregnancy disorder to avoid going to work tomorrow.
Woke up later than was practical if a shower was to fit into morning before 8:30 work meeting (the kind where they lock the doors to the office and you have to do the "I get here later than you" walk of shame into the meeting where everyone stares at you) - skipped shower, hair in bun.
Nearly nodded off REPEATEDLY at desk... ate to keep myself awake... didn't work (still waiting for someone to tell me how to start my website)
Have been brought to or nearly brought to tears over and over since Friday (please hold any trite comments regarding "prego" emotions - K? Thanks.) so I left work at 12:30 because I wanted to wallow and laze and be alone and work is conducive to NONE of those things.
Got in car, bawled, came home, ate leftover pizza, slept for four hours, woke up when Husband got home from work, chatted, cried, played online puzzles (cuz, evidently, I'm turning into my grandmother, with no other goals in life than to get hammered and finish the fucking Anacrostic! What's next? Wheel of Fortune and bed at 7:30p?? - God rest her soul...), went for Ice Cream with Husband (decided Baskin Robbins is a corporate Nazi and will no longer be spending my money there), came back home, watched The Baby Borrowers (decided a) it's my new favorite show and b) I already want to smother a few of the girls with my leopard print pillow, then slap their unconscious little faces until they wake up and I can shave their eyebrows off with a rusty razor, all in hopes that sense will come to them through torture), then ate dinner (cuz I'm an adult and can eat things in that order, so HA!) while watching Celebrity Circus (and hoping upon hope that there's no one I really like on the show because I do NOT need one more Celebreality show lined up on my Tivo).
So, here I am... a full day behind me... promising I'll only solve ONE MORE puzzle and then head off to bed with hopes that this day was a blip and I don't have to come up with some fake pregnancy disorder to avoid going to work tomorrow.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Tori And I Have More In Common Than Just Great Husbands
A vulnerable moment for me.
I heart Tori Spelling. I hated her when 90210 was on, but have a new found appreciation for her. She's smart and funny and pulled herself up by her (Chanel) boot strings and consciously decided that she would use her previous fame to make a living for herself. I heart strong women.
So, the new season of Tori and Dean has begun and I watched the first episode last night. She is pregnant again and there was a scene that struck close to home for me.
Without getting into the drama that is my relationship with my mother, I will just say that she and I haven't had the best of times. I have spent more than half of my life being the "grown-up" in the world that is she and I, and it has taken therapy, medication and the most wonderfully supportive man I've ever encountered to accept that it is what it is and I can't turn the clock back.
When I found out I was pregnant, I so so hoped for a girl. I considered a lot of things about why this was, all of them true, but none of them the all-encompassing truth.
When we went for the ultrasound that confirmed our baby has a winkie, Husband was elated, but I could barely speak. I made it to the car with as much decorum as possible and then, I began sobbing uncontrollably without end. Through my tears (and hiccups), I tried explaining to him that OF COURSE I was glad he was healthy, OF COURSE this won't make a difference in how I bond with him, OF COURSE I was happy for Husband that he was getting what he so desperately wanted, BUT IT DOESN'T MEAN I'M HAPPY RIGHT THIS MINUTE. After the sobfest ended, we made the calls that we needed to make to let everyone on the planet know that it was a boy. Most of the people we called knew our desires were split and a couple of them asked me if I was alright with it. What do you say? "No, I'm not okay with it... I'm either going to abort and start over or I'm scheduling his reassignment surgery NOW" I admitted to a few that it was "a little difficult at first, but I'm okay with it now". This was, of course, an understatement, but how do you tell the truth without being judged? By the end of a very late dinner, I had come to terms with it, at best. I was not stoked, but had had my moment and accepted it. My new concern was my behavior. Husband is the LEAST judgmental person I know, ESPECIALLY when it comes to my thoughts and irrational behavior, but I was afraid I had crossed a line, because this was HIS baby too and he felt like I had totally stifled his joy and he felt he couldn't comfortably be happy about it in my presence. Then, given my history of varying mental instabilities, I was afraid that I had, for the FIRST TIME EVER, begun to alienate him and make him question ME! After he went to bed, I settled in with Google. I discovered that "Gender Disappointment" was completely normal and that there are people out there FAR crazier than me. There ARE people who will abort... there ARE people who wish so badly for one gender that they put themselves through some of the most ridiculous practices to ensure they get the one their looking for. You want to discuss Gender Disappointment? Try taking your temperature, wrapping strings around your husbands nut sac, making sure he comes at exactly 6:05 Eastern Time during the Half Moon in February with a Shaman present AND THEN finding out you STILL didn't get the one you were looking for. OMG! Now THAT is Gender Disappointment! I felt pretty normal at this point and had a very nice heart to heart with Husband the next day.
But here's what I learned about myself that weekend: My desire to have a girl was nothing more than my desire to have a SUCCESSFUL Mother-Daughter relationship. For years I have been trying to find a replacement Mommy, someone who I could call when I was crying, someone who would come over and help me plant flowers, someone who I would trust to baby-sit my child while I went away for a weekend. And I've failed. All of the pseudo-Mommies I found had one glitch - they were already Mommies and already had that relationship I was so desperate to experience. To have my own daughter would put ME in control of the relationship. I thought I would be more fulfilled as a girl.
Once I realized this, it was much easier to accept that my first born will have a penis and that we will just have to have more children. We were planning on it anyway, so BFD! I would not trade this boy in for the world. I hope for nothing more than his health and his happiness and I hope people like him when he grows up. I love him and can't wait to hold him and watch him sleep.
My insight to myself was just that, insight... Google and Yahoo and Support Boards did NOT tell me this was my problem. It was what I needed to discover in exactly the way I needed to discover it. I've told few people about this because, frankly, I feel a bit embarrassed to have reacted in such a way. Add to that, the depths of some of my closest friends can be measured with a shot glass and I didn't want to hear trite little attempts at comfort that would sound more like a "Chicken Soup for the Mom of a Boy's Soul" book.
Months have passed and I had forgotten about this. I am focusing on my son and preparing for his arrival. I know we will have more children and don't feel but a very vague twinge of envy to those around me with daughters, I know my time will come and it will be special, as will my relationship with my son.
Enter Tori Spelling - On last night's Season Three premiere of the Tori and Dean show, she finds out she's having a girl this time around and begins to cry out of happiness. She later confides to her girlfriend (and all of us who watch the show) that she wanted a daughter, in part, to compensate for her own Mother-Daughter relationship shortcomings. That she wants to prove that it CAN be done right. That she wants that "Best Friend" all Mothers and Daughters are supposed to have in each other. And I cried too. Because I totally get it.
I heart Tori Spelling. I hated her when 90210 was on, but have a new found appreciation for her. She's smart and funny and pulled herself up by her (Chanel) boot strings and consciously decided that she would use her previous fame to make a living for herself. I heart strong women.
So, the new season of Tori and Dean has begun and I watched the first episode last night. She is pregnant again and there was a scene that struck close to home for me.
Without getting into the drama that is my relationship with my mother, I will just say that she and I haven't had the best of times. I have spent more than half of my life being the "grown-up" in the world that is she and I, and it has taken therapy, medication and the most wonderfully supportive man I've ever encountered to accept that it is what it is and I can't turn the clock back.
When I found out I was pregnant, I so so hoped for a girl. I considered a lot of things about why this was, all of them true, but none of them the all-encompassing truth.
When we went for the ultrasound that confirmed our baby has a winkie, Husband was elated, but I could barely speak. I made it to the car with as much decorum as possible and then, I began sobbing uncontrollably without end. Through my tears (and hiccups), I tried explaining to him that OF COURSE I was glad he was healthy, OF COURSE this won't make a difference in how I bond with him, OF COURSE I was happy for Husband that he was getting what he so desperately wanted, BUT IT DOESN'T MEAN I'M HAPPY RIGHT THIS MINUTE. After the sobfest ended, we made the calls that we needed to make to let everyone on the planet know that it was a boy. Most of the people we called knew our desires were split and a couple of them asked me if I was alright with it. What do you say? "No, I'm not okay with it... I'm either going to abort and start over or I'm scheduling his reassignment surgery NOW" I admitted to a few that it was "a little difficult at first, but I'm okay with it now". This was, of course, an understatement, but how do you tell the truth without being judged? By the end of a very late dinner, I had come to terms with it, at best. I was not stoked, but had had my moment and accepted it. My new concern was my behavior. Husband is the LEAST judgmental person I know, ESPECIALLY when it comes to my thoughts and irrational behavior, but I was afraid I had crossed a line, because this was HIS baby too and he felt like I had totally stifled his joy and he felt he couldn't comfortably be happy about it in my presence. Then, given my history of varying mental instabilities, I was afraid that I had, for the FIRST TIME EVER, begun to alienate him and make him question ME! After he went to bed, I settled in with Google. I discovered that "Gender Disappointment" was completely normal and that there are people out there FAR crazier than me. There ARE people who will abort... there ARE people who wish so badly for one gender that they put themselves through some of the most ridiculous practices to ensure they get the one their looking for. You want to discuss Gender Disappointment? Try taking your temperature, wrapping strings around your husbands nut sac, making sure he comes at exactly 6:05 Eastern Time during the Half Moon in February with a Shaman present AND THEN finding out you STILL didn't get the one you were looking for. OMG! Now THAT is Gender Disappointment! I felt pretty normal at this point and had a very nice heart to heart with Husband the next day.
But here's what I learned about myself that weekend: My desire to have a girl was nothing more than my desire to have a SUCCESSFUL Mother-Daughter relationship. For years I have been trying to find a replacement Mommy, someone who I could call when I was crying, someone who would come over and help me plant flowers, someone who I would trust to baby-sit my child while I went away for a weekend. And I've failed. All of the pseudo-Mommies I found had one glitch - they were already Mommies and already had that relationship I was so desperate to experience. To have my own daughter would put ME in control of the relationship. I thought I would be more fulfilled as a girl.
Once I realized this, it was much easier to accept that my first born will have a penis and that we will just have to have more children. We were planning on it anyway, so BFD! I would not trade this boy in for the world. I hope for nothing more than his health and his happiness and I hope people like him when he grows up. I love him and can't wait to hold him and watch him sleep.
My insight to myself was just that, insight... Google and Yahoo and Support Boards did NOT tell me this was my problem. It was what I needed to discover in exactly the way I needed to discover it. I've told few people about this because, frankly, I feel a bit embarrassed to have reacted in such a way. Add to that, the depths of some of my closest friends can be measured with a shot glass and I didn't want to hear trite little attempts at comfort that would sound more like a "Chicken Soup for the Mom of a Boy's Soul" book.
Months have passed and I had forgotten about this. I am focusing on my son and preparing for his arrival. I know we will have more children and don't feel but a very vague twinge of envy to those around me with daughters, I know my time will come and it will be special, as will my relationship with my son.
Enter Tori Spelling - On last night's Season Three premiere of the Tori and Dean show, she finds out she's having a girl this time around and begins to cry out of happiness. She later confides to her girlfriend (and all of us who watch the show) that she wanted a daughter, in part, to compensate for her own Mother-Daughter relationship shortcomings. That she wants to prove that it CAN be done right. That she wants that "Best Friend" all Mothers and Daughters are supposed to have in each other. And I cried too. Because I totally get it.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Sex: The Revolution
If you haven't seen this on VH1, find it and watch it.
It's in four one-hour parts and I want to marry it. It takes a journey through time showing the evolution of sex in America. From the ground breaking Kinsey reports about the Human Male and the Human Female bodies to Viagra commercials every half an hour. From a time when gays would be arrested, just for being gay, to the current ability of gays to marry. From the underground sex scene to the in your face sex scene. From the modest Playboy to the version it had to become if it wanted to compete with Hustler and Penthouse to maintain a market share. From women's belief that sex was for men to women who believe in friends with benefits. And the people who were integral in the evolution and the ones who have been criticizing it all along the way. There are interviews with Gloria Steinem and Susan Brownmiller (who BOTH pissed me off) and some great stories and classic footage documenting the Free Love movement of the 60's and 70's that make me wish I had been around to join in the fun. The relationship of Abortion and AIDS with the Sexual Revolution and how they each evolved as a part of the Revolution, BUT impacted its path too.
The most interesting story of STR, to me, is that of the assassination of Harvey Milk. If you have a chance, click here for Harvey's Wiki page. The page doesn't do him any justice, but the STR does very well with it, showing clips and footage. The special does NOT, however, tell you what happened to his murderer, but Wiki does.
Sex: The Revolution is, by far, the BEST thing I've seen on TV in a LONG time. I haven't seen a mini-series since "The 60's" that made me so thankful and grateful to those who came before me. Watching STR made me come to appreciate and admire the women who endured the attempted suppression's of sexual freedom and liberation so that I may screw whomever I want whenever I want with any Birth Control I want and have 6 orgasms without any shame or feelings of guilt for my selfishness (barring the whole "oh, wait, I'm married" thing). That I may have "Letters to Penthouse" sex with my husband and openly chat about it the next day. That I may openly be friends with the gays and stand up in their weddings, too.
I thank all of these pioneers for paving my way and the way of all of the people I know who enjoy the hell out of sex and don't have to hide it like our forepersons had to.
So, find it. Watch it. Enjoy it. Appreciate it.
It's in four one-hour parts and I want to marry it. It takes a journey through time showing the evolution of sex in America. From the ground breaking Kinsey reports about the Human Male and the Human Female bodies to Viagra commercials every half an hour. From a time when gays would be arrested, just for being gay, to the current ability of gays to marry. From the underground sex scene to the in your face sex scene. From the modest Playboy to the version it had to become if it wanted to compete with Hustler and Penthouse to maintain a market share. From women's belief that sex was for men to women who believe in friends with benefits. And the people who were integral in the evolution and the ones who have been criticizing it all along the way. There are interviews with Gloria Steinem and Susan Brownmiller (who BOTH pissed me off) and some great stories and classic footage documenting the Free Love movement of the 60's and 70's that make me wish I had been around to join in the fun. The relationship of Abortion and AIDS with the Sexual Revolution and how they each evolved as a part of the Revolution, BUT impacted its path too.
The most interesting story of STR, to me, is that of the assassination of Harvey Milk. If you have a chance, click here for Harvey's Wiki page. The page doesn't do him any justice, but the STR does very well with it, showing clips and footage. The special does NOT, however, tell you what happened to his murderer, but Wiki does.
Sex: The Revolution is, by far, the BEST thing I've seen on TV in a LONG time. I haven't seen a mini-series since "The 60's" that made me so thankful and grateful to those who came before me. Watching STR made me come to appreciate and admire the women who endured the attempted suppression's of sexual freedom and liberation so that I may screw whomever I want whenever I want with any Birth Control I want and have 6 orgasms without any shame or feelings of guilt for my selfishness (barring the whole "oh, wait, I'm married" thing). That I may have "Letters to Penthouse" sex with my husband and openly chat about it the next day. That I may openly be friends with the gays and stand up in their weddings, too.
I thank all of these pioneers for paving my way and the way of all of the people I know who enjoy the hell out of sex and don't have to hide it like our forepersons had to.
So, find it. Watch it. Enjoy it. Appreciate it.
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