Browsing Tag

pregnancy

seriously somewhat serious

When life gives you lemons…

June 15, 2009

hand-in-hand

I’m convinced that parenting is one of the toughest jobs in the world, and I’m not saying this just so I can gain sympathy points for how awesome I am. In fact, I think I’ve got it pretty easy. All things considered, Tru is one of the easiest babies in the world to take care of, so I really don’t have anything to whine about. But I’ve got mad respect for parents who make it despite having life treat them unfairly.

We brought Tru to Ikea for a walk last night to add some finishing touches to the nursery before Kirsten’s arrival. While we were making the rounds checking out baby stuff, I happened to see a little girl who literally made me stop in my tracks and I almost teared standing there in the middle of Ikea. She was about  3 years old, with pigtails and the sweetest smile a girl could have. One hand was holding a stuffed toy and the other was firmly tucked in her daddy’s arm. Then I noticed that that arm ended slightly above the wrist, and she had no fingers on that hand.

It didn’t stop her from smiling and skipping around. If you didn’t pay attention, you probably wouldn’t even notice the arm. Just standing there looking at her, I felt like holding her in my arms and crying. I looked at Tru and it seemed so terribly unfair. Kids don’t deserve to be born handicapped and parents don’t deserve to have their hearts broken every day of their lives at the injustice of it all.

Honestly, I don’t know if I have the capacity to handle it if one of my kids were born with some form of imperfection. It’s the parent’s job to shower them with extra love and care to make up for it, but I’m not sure if I have that much love to give in the first place. I’d probably cry everyday.

I look at parents who’s kid has Down’s or a hole in their heart or paraplegic and they seem to have a special capacity to love more than the average person. With the medical advancements available to us, doctors can detect signs of abnormality within the first trimester and it’s so much easier to opt for the easy way out, to terminate the pregnancy and try again. But some parents choose to take the road less travelled, to have the child and love him despite of how tough it’s going to be.

For some, it’s a lifetime of heartache, sacrifice and worry. Weird stares, whispers, taunts and tough questions become a daily staple. And yet they find it within them to smile and keep on going.

If you’re a mother who has such an experience or know of someone like that, I’d love to hear your story and read about your journey. You can post your comments here with your web address here if you have one or just email me at my Contact Me page.

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pregnancy

Pain, pain, go away

May 20, 2009

With 8 weeks to go, all I can think about now is giving birth. I’m not looking forward to the birthing process per se, seeing that I’m terrified of needles and I’m averse to any sort of pain whatsoever. I have the pain threshold of a 3-year-old child, and the slightest bit of pain sends me hyperventilating.

I’ve got very vivid memories of Tru’s delivery after the anesthesia wore off and I was screaming the hospital down for morphine. Totally unglam on retrospect, but pain turns me into a raging maniac.

Suffice to say, I’m dreading the labor and delivery, but the final weeks of pregnancy is like being in Siberia. It sucks. There’s nothing I can do except twiddle my thumbs and wait for water to trickle down my legs (not pee, ok). I can’t remember what it feels like to run and skip without a care in the world. Just the other day, I thought I was going to pass out after 5 minutes of brisk walking, and I had to sit down for the next 30 minutes to recuperate.

There’s also a new ailment which didn’t show up during my first pregnancy. Recently, my crotch feels like there’s an elephant sitting on it from the inside, and any slight movement sends a wave of numbing pain (akin to a bruise) into the joints. Evidently, it’s put quite a damper on the romance and passion this time around.

On top of it all, I’ve been having unexplainable throbbing pains on various parts of my body. The husband seems to think its hilarious, but there’s really nothing funny about it when I’m on the receiving end of some ancient voodoo curses. I remember this scene in one of the Indiana Jones’ flicks where some tribal witches were performing a curse on a voodoo doll by stabbing it, and the pain would somehow be felt on the real guy. It freaked me out then and still haunts me till this day. I have also since stopped watching Indiana Jones. It’s evil.

voodoo-dolls-wallpaper

seriously, it hurts. Stop it!

A couple of days ago, the pain started in my hands, like someone was stabbing my wrist every 10 minutes. After searching the net for possible explanations, the best advice was to leave it alone and lo and behold, it just went away the next day all by itself.

Now it’s moved to my left ear and it’s getting unbearable. It’s so bad that I can’t even swallow or think without wincing in pain. Unless some insect crawled into my ear and died there, I’m pretty sure it’s caused by some venomous Mother, Inc haters.

Whoever you are, I’ll hunt you down and may the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits.

Ok, seriously, please make it stop. I’ll do whatever you say.

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pregnancy

The necessity of nesting

May 7, 2009
my bags are packed i'm ready to go

my bags are packed i'm ready to go

When I first heard about the nesting instinct, I thought it was utterly bogus. Just another lame excuse for cleanliness freaks to validate their obsessive compulsiveness. It’s not surprising since pregnant women have all sorts of incredible terms for strange compulsions.

Wikipedia explains nesting as “an instinct or urge in pregnant animals to prepare a home for the upcoming newborn”. In humans, it is commonly characterized by a strong urge to clean and organize one’s home. Great, now I’m having the same primal instincts as rodents.

Seeing that I have no qualms subscribing to the philosophy of maintaining an organized mess in my home, I thought I’d escape the nesting instinct by sheer rationality.

*Phew, my superior brains are one-up over the common mammals.

I draw the line at living like a slob, but in general, I’m ok with stuff like rolling my laundry up into little balls and stuffing them in the cabinets. As a rule of thumb, as long as the common areas are neat and tidy, hidden mess does not qualify as mess. (In philosophy, it’s the falling tree in the deserted woods theory – if no one is there to witness it, it technically does not exist)

Which is why I was totally caught by surprise when the nesting instinct kicked in. Against my better judgment, I found myself having the need to organize and reorganize every little thing at home. It was pretty mild when I was pregnant with Tru (maybe it’s a boy thing), but with Kirsten, I’m unstoppable. It’s like an itch that I have to scratch.

With 9 weeks to go, I’ve repacked the nursery about 4 times. Each time, I would dig out all her clothes, re-iron them, re-fold them into neat little stacks (in exact dimensions) and place them back in the wardrobe, only to repeat the process all over again. I’ve arranged all her diapers with the precision of a neurosurgeon and practically sterilized the entire room.

The bizarre thing about the nesting instinct is that it just completely disappears the moment the baby is born. Within a week after Tru’s birth, I was back to the ball-rolling thing. Believe me, with a newborn, there was barely enough time to take a full crap, much less organize stuff.

But for now, I can’t help myself. Apparently, my super brains aren’t so superior after all.

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