Friday, February 27, 2009

Newest addition to the planet.

Having a baby is a surreal experience. The part that makes it coolest:





Wednesday, February 11, 2009

38 weeks and counting with the small portion of my brain that is still operational.

I’ve got my head down and I’m plowing through the days until my role as landlord is through. This little person is sapping so much from me at this point that each morning when I wake up to find I’m still pregnant I can scarcely believe it. How did I not go into labor in the night? He clearly wants out – he knocks on the inside of my stomach like he’s rapping on the door of a house: “Let me out, damn it!” Walking is painful and to be avoided, as my joints are all stretched out and achy and the baby has dropped low into my pelvis. I waddle like a duck. I only have a few shirts that even cover my belly at this point, which protrudes much more than it ever did with the first one. I feel like shit – no glow here – and I am mentally through with this invasion of my body.

And yet … nothing.

Anecdotally I know this is always the way it goes; you don’t think there is any way you can tolerate another day, and the baby still isn’t born for 4 more weeks.

So in anticipation for the big day, whether it comes today or on schedule for the 23rd, I’ve been keeping myself busy:

1. Familiarizing myself thoroughly with the entire HGTV lineup so that when I am burrowed deep into the couch for the first 8 weeks of Alex’s life, sobbing, I’ll have home renovation to focus on instead.

2. Leafing through magazines.

3. Practicing the alphabet with Ian so that he has some knowledge to build on before he loses the individualized attention for the rest of his life.

4. Marveling at how swollen my legs get – like my stomach, how does the skin not just pop open like a roasted bird?

5. Reading myriad diet books in anticipation of needing to lose 50 pounds – yes, FIFTY. Hopefully, most of that will just come off on its own in the first couple of months, as it did with my first pregnancy (how? Physically I don’t really get that), because the prospect of dieting is so fucking dismal I can hardly bear it. And of course, I have my 40th birthday promise to be healthier but also easier on myself, so a strict diet doesn’t necessarily fit in there. To that end, I think I have settled on some version of the “Best Life Diet,” the Bob Greene diet that really focuses more on embracing a healthy lifestyle than rigid self-denial.

So, a lot of really interesting stuff.

But here’s something cute.