Pregnancy-Free Babies

I love being a Mom.

But I hate being pregnant.

I love giving birh. (Sue me.)

But I hate being pregnant.

My cousin has two little boys. One is a little younger than Kali, and the other is a little older than Jack. She’s expecting another baby this Summer.

Yesterday, I’m sure I weirded her out because I just kept staring at her belly. We both gave birth last year. And she’s going to do it again this year. I’m equal parts amazed and jealous.

I asked her yesterday, “Do you like being pregnant?” She just kinda shrugged.

Then I realized something.

She’s good at it! She’s good at being pregnant. If I were good at being pregnant, I’d be more inclined to do it again. But I’m not good at being pregnant. In fact, I fail miserably at it.

She is one of those pregnant women where everything on their body stays the same except the belly. Everything on me spreads like Miracle Whip. She gives birth and leaves the hospital in the jeans she wore in high school. I give birth and leave the hospital looking like I’m about to go into labor again. Ive never heard her complain while pregnant. I,on the other hand, complain loudly and often. Then I write blogs about it so hundreds can feel my pain. She also goes into labor, hops on the table, pops out the baby sans drugs, and then puts her feet up to watch a movie. I go into labor and I’m asking that they meet me in the parking lot with an epidural and tequila chaser.

I want another baby, I just don’t want to get pregnant to have it. I wouldn’t even mind having a baby soon. I just don’t want to get pregnant to have it.

I wish there was some way to convince my cousin to have a baby for me.

BIOBaby: Videotaping the Big Event

I had the weirdest dream last night. I was at the doctor’s office getting an exam and the doctor was this older Asian lady. She called for a second opinion and this young, dopey, doctor came in. Like, Ryan Seacrest dopey. So, he sticks one of those vaginal cameras in me so we can see what’s going on with the baby. Every few minutes he would stop to snap Polariods of himself doing things like giving the thumbs up. And my vagina would be in each shot!
Then he removes the camera, lowers his surgical mask, and as he’s talking he bends his face closer and closer to my vagina until finally he has his mouth on it! Then he puts his lips next to it with his face resting against my thigh and starts humming, blowing against my skin, and giving me raspberries. THEN, he takes one of those small, skinny, straws they give you to stir coffee and inserts it into my vagina and begins to blow. At one point he blows so hard I feel a little jump in my tummy and you can see my tummy move. He does it again and just as I’m about to say, “Ummm, isn’t this kinda dangerous?,” it happens again but this time it’s so jolting I actually wake up.

And not just wake up, but jump up making a startled sound.

It was Jack kicking me. Harder than he’s ever kicked before. I was laying on my back and Jack really, really, doesn’t like it when I do that. So, I roll on my left side, fall back asleep and dream about the same thing! Except this time the dopey-Seacrest doctor is telling me I have some sort of complication and when I ask is it possible to carry Jack to term he just has this grim look on his face and won’t answer me. Of course I freakin’ lose it crying and then I make myself wake up.

That’s what I get for watching Idol and a special on the Green River Killer before bed.

- One of my projects, that I’ve yet to begin, is to take all of our VHS home movies and burn them on DVD. There’s our wedding, Kali’s birth, our honeymoon, parties, etc.

This led to Donny and I deciding the other day that we’re going to purchase a really nice DVD camcorder before Jack is born so we can film the birth and the rest of his and Kali’s lives.

I told Donny that we need to decide who the second person in the delivery room is going to be. We need a reliable camera operator. Donny said he can be both coach and film crew, but I don’t want him to miss anything… from either perspective. Ideally, it should be my Mom, but there’s no guarantee she’d be here when I go into labor so I need someone locally and I don’t think my Dad and I are ready to, nor do we need to, be that close.

When Kali was born they wouldn’t let us film the actually delivery. Just me in labor and the moment she came out. So there’s a cut from me being all loopy because of the drugs to a little pink baby girl screaming on a table butt naked. Off camera you hear me ask the nurses, “Is it true you don’t let people film the delivery because a nurse here once accidentally cut a baby’s finger off while cutting the cord?”

What?! Don’t look at me like that. It’s what I heard!

Donny and I are in disagreement over what should be recorded. I want the delivery, but from the waist up. Donny thinks we should get EVERYTHING.

“No, I don’t want you filming down there. All up in my vagina.”

“I’ve already been up in there.”

“What?!”

“What did you think I said?”

I repeated what I heard.

“No, jackass. I said, ‘I’m going to be all up in there’… you know, filming.”

“Well, fine. We’ll just have to edit the film later for family that wants to see it.”

“I’ll edit it alright. I’ll add nice gushy sound effects.”

I knew how to shut his ass up though.

“What if I poop on myself?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if I poop while pushing?”

“That happens?”

Such a noob.

“Yup. It happens a lot actually.”

Suddenly Spielberg was having second thoughts as to what approach he should take. I thought so. Then he laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“I can just see you now… pushing out a log.”

“You are so. damn. nasty.”