On my mother

So 15 years ago, I heard my parents fighting. My mom was yelling at my dad and said something about "when I was selling pussy for you." Obviously that means my mom was a hooker at some point, and I'm guessing that means my dad was her pimp. It may also mean that she was trying to make money for him for something. I'm not sure. I never asked. In fact, I've spent 15 years trying to forget I heard that.

Two weeks ago, I went with my mom to a hearing she had to see about getting Social Security Disability payments. She has liver disease-- two types of hepatitis that have led to cirrhosis (scarring of the liver). It's effects are really bad. She gets tired easily, she has bad balance, and she is slowly getting something similar to dementia. Her short-term memory has never been good, but it's getting worse, and she's seemingly losing her ability to think critically. Additionally, she has some agoraphobic tendencies. She doesn't like to leave the house, doesn't like to drive, and when she does, she has a list of places where she feels comfortable going. She doesn't like to ride in the car with me or anyone else, and she doesn't like trying new places.

Anyway. So after the hearing (which I wasn't allowed to sit in on), my mom's attorney stayed int he hearing room to talk to the judge. My mom came out and sat next to me. When the attorney came out, he said the judge had seen an arrest for prostitution on my mom's record, and was that true? I immediately wished I could disappear or melt into the floor or whatever. My mom, reflexively, answered "no." The attorney said my mom should write a letter to the judge saying that was the case.

We walked out of the office and stood int he lobby for a minute talking. When the attorney mentioned it again, my mom said, she'd "do some checking." Do some checking? DO SOME CHECKING?!?! Have yo been arrested for prostitution? Yes or no? What do you need to check? Wouldn't you remember if you'd been arrested? I made that point to her and she demurred. Finally, I said, "what, did you get picked up for it, but you're not sure if you were arrested?" And she said yes. Well then.

I came home and cried. I'm not sure why. I mean, I already knew she'd done that. And it's not like it makes her any different than she was before. It has no impact on our relationship. And it has no impact on her relationship with Michaela. As much as she drove me crazy when I was pregnant by not doing things I wanted, or by not doing things the way I wanted, my mom is a GREAT grandma. If you'd asked me how I wanted her to act once the baby was born, I would have described to you everything my mom is now doing. And in some ways, I actually think that's the problem. I sort of feel like I let my guard down-- like my mom was being who I wanted her to be-- and then I find out she's not the picture perfect grandma I thought she was.

I have been dying to ask her about it. To ask her why she did it. To ask what my dad's role in it was. To try to understand. But she has made it clear she doesn't want to talk about it, and I'm going to respect that. Still... it's very difficult for me.

Then I think, well, it's not like I wanted to be president. So I don't have to worry about this clouding my chance of being elected. And I also think about how it must feel for my mom, who already feels like I judge her negatively, to be asked that question in front of me. And then I just feel sad.

Reaction to breastfeeding

The other night, we were at a party and a friend of a friend started to feed her 20 month old daughter. The mother is a bigger lady, was wearing a t-shirt. The daughter is old enough to walk and talk.

The daughter got hungry, so the mother pulled up her (not nursing-friendly) t-shirt, almost over her head. The daughter walked over, hopped up on her mom's lap, and latched on to the mother's nipple. The whole sight was disturbing to me, in spite of several facts:

I have been trying to work on seeing breasts as a food source, not as a sexual object, and that has been working okay. Nursing is natural. For thousands of years, breastmilk was the only food babies got. Who knows how long that went on? In the U.S., they're now recommending breastfeeding for one year, and ideally, it would be two years. I'm sure in olden times, it may have been even longer than that. That said, seeing a toddler walk up to mom and ask for milk was unsettling.

Also, because breasts are a source of food, there's nothing wrong with exposing one for feeding your kid. That said, I am unused to seeing someone just take off her top. And it was a giant breast on a giant woman. In talking to Mike, he said that was what grossed him out about it, that she should have covered up (or at least worn a nursing-friendly shirt so that she wouldn't expose her belly and breasts). I told him that we wouldn't complain if someone brought out an uncovered tray of food at a restaurant, and in the end, aren't they both about getting food to the hungry? I asked him if it would have bothered him as much if the mother was thin and cute and he said no. I don't agree with that, but I understand where he was coming from.

It has been interesting (to me) to think through my reaction to all of this.

Reflecting on showers

Friday was my last day at work. Thursday, the people there threw me a shower. I was totally surprised and absolutely blown away by their generosity. Poppy came out of the shower with A TON of clothes and with some blankets, toys, bath products, etc. It was really amazing. I'm going to miss that place (and those people) very much, but I'm excited to not have to do the drive anymore and to start settling into the new routine.

Went to a baby shower yesterday for a friend I've known since junior high. It was lovely. Wonderful decorations and food and company. It made me excited for my shower (which is coming up!), but also allowed me to reflect on how cool it is that my kid and her kids (she's having twins) are going to be friends. My parents don't have couple friends, and even individually, neither of them had friends from longstanding relationships like that, so I never got to have "play cousins" or whatever you want to call them.

I am feeling surprisingly calm about the birthing process itself, and mainly full of excitement about the time that Poppy is actually here and all of the great things that are ahead of us.

"Like menstrual cramps"

People have told me, and I've read, that contractions (little ones, at least) are like really bad menstrual cramps. The wisdom usually goes like this, "oh, you'll know when you're having a contraction. It's like a really bad cramp when you have your period!" Here's the thing, people. I never had regular periods. That's where the whole "I didn't think I could get pregnant" thing came from. And the periods I did have were usually tame (and often times very short). No cramps. Maybe the occasional back ache, but that was about it. So all these "really bad cramp" analogies aren't doing it for me. Sure, at a certain point, I'll know I'm having a contracting. But in the meantime, I'm drawing a blank.

Misc.

I've been feeling what I think are Braxton Hicks contractions. Interesting. I need to ask the OB about them next week, but the childbirth class teacher said what I described sounds like Braxton Hicks.

Childbirth class is... interesting. I'm learning, and it's helpful for me to listen to the teacher, jot down notes in the book, and practice. Mike is bored out of his mind and would prefer to have all the info summarized in a short (20-30 minutes) session rather than a long (2 hour) one. I do agree with him that the class could be tighter and that our instructor is pretty weird. But I think you have to be weird to teach childbirth.

We watched a childbirth video tonight. Fortunately, it was tame. No crotch shots. Thank goodness. I was worried. It turned out to be like a shortened version of "A Baby Story." Phew.

My best friend is 12 weeks pregnant with twins! She called me yesterday with the happy news. I'm excited for her and her hubby, shocked by the twins news (can't imagine how shocked she must be!), and also a little sad that they live so far away that I won't get to be super involved in going shopping with her, etc. But she's coming out for my shower in December and I will throw one for her when she's closer. Lots of babies!

So excited!

When I found out I was pregnant, I was in total shock. TOTAL SHOCK. There were no words to describe how taken aback I was. I literally had spent the 15 or so years before thinking I was not going to be able to have kids (or that I'd need medical intervention if I could), and all of a sudden, BAM! I was pregnant. Say what?!?

Now that the shock has worn off, I'm just excited. Totally excited! I can't wait for Poppy to get here! I am enjoying my pregnancy more than I thought I would (and maybe more than it seems like from my complaining here), but I'm ready for it to be over with so I can meet MY DAUGHTER. How crazy is that? My daughter. Hooray for Poppy!

Baby shower!

I'd been feeling sorry for myself over the last couple of days. I got an invite to a girlfriend's baby shower. She's due months after I am, but her friends have it together enough that they're planning something and not only had I not heard a peep out of my friends, but when I asked a couple of them some registry-related questions, all I heard was the sound of crickets (implying they had no plans to throw me a shower). I don't know why, but stuff like that totally gets to me and throughout my life, I have been really hurt by having expectations of my friends that they never quite seem to meet. I've gotten better about it, but I'm still not that good, and this shower thing is a perfect example.

Today, Mike and I spent a very nice day out and about and I happened to mention to him that my feelings were hurt because I wanted a shower but no one was going to throw me one. He said I have a tendency to make people think I don't want something (like a baby shower) and then get disappointed when I don't get it. That's a longstanding discussion between us, and I basically let it go. A couple of hours later, he said to me, all giddy, "check your email!" I looked at my BlackBerry and had a message from my friend saying to save the date, that she and another friend had been plotting to throw me a shower. Mike also said his mom is coming out for it and that his stepmom might come, too. I was totally surprised, totally touched, and felt a little bit stupid for being such a baby.

Apparently they've been trying to figure out details for weeks and when I told Mike how I was feeling, he sent a text to one of my friends alerting her to the need to break the news stat. And voila, she did. I feel much better now about things. I guess my friends don't suck, after all.

(And for the record, I was hurt/disappointed because 1) I would totally throw showers for my friends and have been to all sorts of showers in the past and bought stuff and even driven hundreds of miles to be there, and 2) it's my baby, for Christ's sake, and I want her to have nice things-- nice things purchased by our friends and family!)

Movement

I think I felt Poppy move today. I was laying in bed when I felt a twinge in my belly. I wondered, "is that the baby?!?" before thinking, "no, it must just be a muscle spasm." But the more I thought about it, the more I thought, "no, it didn't feel like a muscle spasm." Then, later in the day, I was getting a massage (heavenly!) and the masseuse asked if I'd felt my baby move. I told her the story and she said she felt her baby's first movements at 13 weeks, so it was entirely possible.

In one episode of "Friends," Phoebe sings, "Are you in there little fetus/in nine months will you come greet us/I will buy you some Adidas." I guess my little fetus is there and moving. I'd better get some Adidas!

Bombshell

A few months ago, I started gaining weight. I'd never had regular periods, and had been told by a doctor when I was a teenager that I'd have a hard time having kids, but I was still curious enough about the weight gain to take a home pregnancy test. March 23, it came back negative. When my period still hadn't arrived a month later, I made an appointment at the doctor, and April 29, I went to the OBGYN to get the ball rolling on figuring out what's wrong with my female plumbing system. Since you have to be trying for a year to be declared reproductively challenged, I didn't think the midwife (I'm a member of Kaiser, so it's rare to see a doctor) would do much for me, but thought it was the first step that would help me and my husband, Mike, start down the road of starting a family someday.

Imagine my surprise when we started and ended the appointment with a pregnancy test. The test was positive. I was shocked. It was the last thing I was expecting (for a number of reasons, including the negative pregnancy test the month before).

The process of finding out as a comedy of errors.

The nurse told me to pee in a cup, but I'd just gone to the bathroom, so I didn't have to go. We argued about that for a minute and agreed that as a compromise, I would drink a cup of water and then see if I could squeeze out a few drops. "We don't need much," she said.

I peed in the cup, the nurse used an eye dropper to put the urine on the test. One line showed up right away. There was a faint light gray line next to it. She showed it to me and expected me to be excited. I, of course, had no idea what I was looking at. Apparently I didn't look impressed because she then explained the test to me. Two lines = pregnant, one line = not.

She said she couldn't tell if the test was positive or not, and took it to confer with another nurse. Meanwhile, I was in the exam room freaking out. "What does this mean? How is this possible? Is this a joke? Are you kidding me? Should I call Mike? Text him? This must be some sort of mistake."

Meanwhile, I heard the other nurse say, "just tell her it's positive." So nice, so caring. The first nurse comes back in and proceeds to tell me how exciting this is and how great the news is and to go on and on and on.

Now-- this is GREAT news. I'm very excited. Very happy. I just think it's inappropriate for this woman to, without knowing my circumstances, make such a fuss. What if I'd been raped, or didn't want the baby for some other reason? I told her I was happy and she left, then I waited for the midwife I was scheduled to see.

She gave me a run down of some info (eat small meals, don't think you really have to "eat for two," stay away from raw fish, take prenatal vitamins, etc.) and asked me if I had any questions. I told her I was sure I'd have lots of questions later, but that at that point, I was mostly in shock. You know, because I'd gone into the doctor expecting to be told I'm barren and left having been told I'm expecting.

After leaving the doctor's office, I texted Mike to see if he wanted to meet me for lunch. I didn't want to tell him over the phone, so that seemed like a good plan. But he'd eaten just a little bit before and wasn't hungry, so when he asked how the appointment went, I was vague. I planned to tell him in he evening when he was home from work, but Kaiser threw a wrench into those plans.

Each of us has our medical stuff set up so that when one of us goes to the doctor, the other one is notified of the test results. That's why Mike got an email shortly after my appointment that said "Diagnosis: Pregnancy." And that's why he called me a few minutes after that and asked, "Are you pregnant?!?!?" So I ended up telling him over the phone after all.