Monday, July 24, 2006
The birth story... abbreviated.
The short version:
4:30: Woke up.
5:21: Started timing contractions.
5:30: Showered, shaved, deep conditioned my hair. Put on grey eyeliner.
6:05: Woke up husband, called mil to come down, called doc & ob at hospital.
6:40ish: Left for hospital, leisurely drive.... talking through contractions... way different than last time.
7:05: Talked to dad, sister & work in hospital parking lot. Felt like idiot standing in front of ER doors gabbing like a teenager at the mall on cell phone.
7:20: Hook up to monitors in "rule out" room.
7:55: Get moved to regular delivery room. Still laughing, joking & smiling.
Sometime after that: Game face comes on. Trying to figure out if holding my breath will make me not push.... try very hard not to push.
8:04: Official birth time.
4:30: Woke up.
5:21: Started timing contractions.
5:30: Showered, shaved, deep conditioned my hair. Put on grey eyeliner.
6:05: Woke up husband, called mil to come down, called doc & ob at hospital.
6:40ish: Left for hospital, leisurely drive.... talking through contractions... way different than last time.
7:05: Talked to dad, sister & work in hospital parking lot. Felt like idiot standing in front of ER doors gabbing like a teenager at the mall on cell phone.
7:20: Hook up to monitors in "rule out" room.
7:55: Get moved to regular delivery room. Still laughing, joking & smiling.
Sometime after that: Game face comes on. Trying to figure out if holding my breath will make me not push.... try very hard not to push.
8:04: Official birth time.
The Story of Your Birth
Oh just skip this post.... it's long & boring & you'll only hate me in the end.....
July 18, 2006
Darling Girl-
On July 14, 2006 at 8:04 am you made your unique presence known to the world in a delivery worthy of the Baby Channel.
Just 4 days old and already you have So Much Personality, my little Princess Angry Humming Bird. You are Mama’s girl. You love to eat. You love to look over the scene with your dark little beady birdy eyes and then, very confidently & concisely, give your opinion regarding all you survey. Daddy is good… but only for snuggling and tar-substance removal. Mama is yummy. Big Brother is the best paci-retriever in the world… and you need it… why have a paci when the real thing is so close at hand?
Unfortunately, your most common nickname is, “Snort.” And then your brother gets “Are You My Mother?” and we read about the Snort. You are a great nurser although you still need to work on your burping skills.
Your big brother is adjusting nicely to your existence. He’s a bit bewildered about why pacis are only for babies but seeing Daddy change a few nasty diapers has him reconsidering potty training. He told us he had to go and went on the big potty chair a few times right after you were born and whenever we change you he says, “Eeewww.” He really thinks having a baby is all about eating pizza, watching cartoons at the hospital and getting a new remote control car. Although at one point he did look at you and ask, “Ok, now where’s my baby brother??”
The official story? Well, you were due July 12 and Mama went to the doc that day for an exam and learned she was 4 cm dilated. (Auntie Lala said, “Ask for the epidural now! You can get an epidural at 4 cm.”) Dr. L stripped Mama’s membranes (not nearly as horrible as it sounds… it was nothing like juicing an orange…. Which is the mental image I get from the name….) and said he would be out of town Friday-Sunday. Rats. That night Mama had steady but mild contractions for about 2 hours… so I cleaned the toilet (what? When I had your brother I got sick and nothing says, “I love you and I prepared for you” like a nice clean toilet… I even used Dr. Bronner’s peppermint soap so it would be minty fresh.) The contractions were steady enough that I put my toothbrush in the overnight bag…. There is nothing more depressing than getting your toothbrush out of the overnight bag in the morning to brush before you go to work… again.
The night of the 13th (Thursday) I decided you might never come so no point in being worried about it. Daniel & I stopped at the grocery store and stocked up on the essentials… just in case. I was starving that night and then had to take a nap…. Oh, hind-sight, you are 20/20.
I woke up at 4:26 thinking I might be having a contraction. I, of course, couldn’t go back to sleep so I got up and started actually timing them at 5:21. Took a nice shower, braided my hair, packed up the essentials & put them in the car, made sure the cell phones & cameras were charged, cleaned the fridge, put on grey eyeliner (a little joke between your father and I…. He always said I would stop in the middle of labor to put on grey eyeliner…. He’s been right every time), put on my “go to the hospital” outfit of grey yoga capris & your father’s maroon t-shirt, cleaned the sink, started the dishwasher, watered the pots on the porch, tidied the living room and, at a few minutes after 6, woke your daddy and said, “It’s time.” Daddy responded with, “Time to get up or time to go to the hospital?” And I said, “Probably both but no rush…. I can still clean through a contraction and they are still 12-15 minutes apart.” I called your Nana to come stay with your brother and Daddy took a shower and took out the garbage (we are nothing if not Virgos). I called the doctor and got a message for the on-call doc…. A doc I don’t know… so I left a cheery message about being in labor. Then I called l&d at the hospital and had another cheery conversation and told them we were on our way. I’m sure the nurse thought I was an idiot. Meanwhile the on-call doc had called back and left a message on daddy’s cell phone saying to go to l&d and have them page Dr. L and good luck. Again with the…. “Lady, I’m pretty sure you’re an idiot” overtones…..
So we set up the tv so your brother could watch some cartoons and showed Nana how to run the dvd player and casually headed to town a few minutes before 7:00 am…. It might have been as early as 6:40. We talked about driving through the Subaru parking lot and car shopping but decided to do that on the way home… a wise decision. We were so proud of ourselves for avoiding 8:00 Capitol Complex traffic. It was such a comfortable drive compared to the trip we made for your brother. I could talk, the contractions were far apart and not uncomfortable yet. No need to brace myself and arch my back and swear during them…. We even made fun of the contract engine we passed…. They were traveling in their yellow shirts…. A sure sign of dorks.
Once at the hospital we parked (no drop-off-the-door-doesn’t-work-and-I-can’t-read insanity like with your brother) and called our offices to let them know we wouldn’t be in, then I called your grandpa and talked about harvest for a while…. He said the wheat would be ripe in about 20 minutes and I said I thought maybe I would be too…. Little did I know….. I told him we’d call him around noon because maybe something would be happening by then. Then I called your Auntie Cassidy to apologize for not waiting for her & grandma to be there. We talked about how hot it was and how nice a/c is…. By this time Mama is standing by the emergency entrance feeling like a Valley Gal for chatting on her cell phone like a big dork. We go in and register and the receptionist assumes I am there to be induced. "No, this is pretty much active labor for her,” your father tells her. She tells us we will be going to the “Rule Out” room…. As in to rule out labor. This makes me laugh. As we are waiting for someone with a wheel chair to come get us I am joking with another pregnant lady there who is going to be induced. The Slowest Driver In The World takes us to l&d. I remember the trip there with your brother…. Flying down the hall while daddy ran along behind carrying a ream of admit papers with the overnight bag banging against his hip… all big eyes & a pale face. I decided this leisurely pace was much better.
We met our nurse, Elizabeth, and settled into the “rule out” room for monitoring. I got into a gown and that funny belly band thing that is really stockinet like what Grandma had around her rolling pin. We started filling out paperwork and noted, at some point in there, that the time was 7:20 am. At this point I’m still thinking I might get to glance at the new “Health” magazine I so optimistically stuck in the overnight bag at the last minute.
We are filling out the reams of paperwork that are really only about 3 pages but seem like reams when the contractions start getting a bit more serious and closer together. Elizabeth notes that I’m having some stronger and some milder and I don’t seem to even notice the mild ones…..at this point I have one that lasts about 3 minutes….. I noticed that one…. And she exams me and says I’m over 5, stretchy, and can easily go to a 6…. Which makes me note, “Oh I came in at a 6 last time…” Elizabeth has seen my chart and decides to speed things along and move us to a room…. I wish I could tell you what time it was…. I’ll have to ask your father…. Probably around 7:50.
So we get unhooked from the monitor and meander down the hall to room 408. I get hooked up to the portable monitor and prepare myself to do the power lap. Pace, focus, pace, stand over the toilet when the contraction hits in case I pee (what? I don’t want to pee on the floor and then slip in it…. I’m sure that’s something you could sue the hospital for…. Isn’t it?) and Elizabeth steps into the hall to do something and promises to hook me up to a saline drip as soon as she gets back. I go into the bathroom as a contraction hits (I swear, at this point, I had no ulterior motives… I was just doing my power lap.) and I’m pretty sure my water broke over the toilet. (Tidy of me, don’t you think?) Elizabeth came hussling in there and said, “Don’t you dare push.” I looked at her to say, “Oh no, I would never do that…” but instead my body said, “Push? Oh that sounds like a lovely idea…. Let’s push.” But my brain said, “No, too soon… pace.” And Elizabeth said, “We need to exam you…. Let’s get you to bed.” And I said, “Can I have the drugs now? I know the drugs will make me not want to push.” Elizabeth, so kind, says, “Let’s exam you first.” And I can tell by the look on her face there will be no drugs today. Your father said at this point I had stopped joking and laughing and my “game face” was on. So I get on the bed & Elizabeth says I am at a 9 and she looks just a little shell shocked. She yells down the hall for “Carol & a delivery cart & I need a little help in here & we are crowning & page Lechner again.” Then Lechner pops into the room like some sort of super hero and then pops out again to change…. I swear he musta changed in the hallway… he was back fast. (He told me yesterday he was hauling ass to get there… swearing at the traffic…. And then the only thing he could think was his scrubs weren’t tied tight enough and his pants would fall down and he’d hit his head and be sprawled out in the corridor in his undies and miss the delivery anyway….) So I’m at a 9 and I’m really, really having to focus to keep myself from pushing. Lechner comes back and as he walks around the end of the bed (not broken down for deliver yet…. The story of our lives…) he grabs the “Blue Goose” bulb booger sucker. I remember thinking that was odd. But I’m feeling better and a little more in control of myself again (Your father said I was totally zoned out, glazed over & had on my satan-face. Me, I was feeling more like your brother must feel when we say, “Are you pooping?” when they were telling me not to push…. No, I’m not pushing…. I really was trying not to push…..) But then I said, “Ok, I’m not pushing… it’s easier…. Or something really coherent like that….” And the doc says, “Doesn’t really matter now….” And I realize what Elizabeth had been doing was holding your head in and it is out and he is suctioning you…. That explains why he grabbed the blue goose as he got there. And then you are there. And I can see (I was kinda up on my elbows and left hip) you come out and cry and Daddy said, “It’s a girl.” And he was crying and laughing and kissing me and saying, “That was too fast. I wasn’t ready.” The doc says, “ The only thing keeping the baby in at all was she had her arm up around her neck… that and the bridge of her nose.”
I just wanted to freeze that moment in time. The beauty of your first little cries and knowing you were safe and whole and perfect. The fleeting moment of terror thinking about being the mother of a teenaged daughter. Seeing that gorgeous ring of black hair and those bright little eyes. Those tiny little frog legs. Shock and awe and more than a little fear about taking you home and being responsible for your tiny little self. Your dragon lady finger nails. That beautifully soft and only slightly mottled pink skin. Those adorable little pearl toes…. Feet impossibly big and incredibly tiny at the same time. All these thoughts in an instant.
The nurse takes you and starts doing all that stuff they do and they are ohhing and ahhing over your round little head and how “dry” you are…. You were ready to come out, dear girl. Lech looks at me and says, “Ok, well, now all we need is a push to get the placenta out and….. (I get all geared up for the “real” work) and oh, never mind… there it is….” I never did get to push. I never got an iv. No pitocin after to get the placenta out…. Nothing…. Not even a need for frozen maxi pads. One tiny little tear on the side that didn’t even warrant a stitch. Obviously, no Jacuzzi (I really did think I’d get to do that this time.) The good things…. No throwing up and no passing out afterwards…. With your brother I spent most of the first day passing out whenever I tried to get up…. With you I got to shower before 10 and was walking around whenever I wanted….. I took an extra-strength Aleve after you were born…. And another one that night to ward off nipple pain….. that’s all the hospital drugs I got.
And you. You were gorgeous from moment one but you just kept getting cuter every hour….. which –I am sure- when I can look back objectively at your first pictures…. I will realize is a blessing.
I’ve managed to shower every day since you were born and we’ve accomplished one “major” goal every day. Well, you know my idea of a “major” goal is successfully managing to vacuum the house or going to the store to buy a sprinkler system and “c” batteries. Goals still on my list include putting the bumper pads in the crib (you sleep in the bassinet) and trimming your nails (I tried to do one, nicked you, barely made you squeak but traumatized me for days…. So Daddy tried, nicked you, and decided you could just wear those gowns with mittens for a few days until we got our nerve back…. So you have two trimmed nails & a scratched face.) Other goals include giving you a bath (maybe this afternoon) and pumping. (My milk came in quite nicely and I’m battling engorgement by wearing a regular bra (not one of those flimsy sleep bras) 24 hours a day… but pumping… pre-prepped by dosing with Aleve…. Would be a good idea.
July 18, 2006
Darling Girl-
On July 14, 2006 at 8:04 am you made your unique presence known to the world in a delivery worthy of the Baby Channel.
Just 4 days old and already you have So Much Personality, my little Princess Angry Humming Bird. You are Mama’s girl. You love to eat. You love to look over the scene with your dark little beady birdy eyes and then, very confidently & concisely, give your opinion regarding all you survey. Daddy is good… but only for snuggling and tar-substance removal. Mama is yummy. Big Brother is the best paci-retriever in the world… and you need it… why have a paci when the real thing is so close at hand?
Unfortunately, your most common nickname is, “Snort.” And then your brother gets “Are You My Mother?” and we read about the Snort. You are a great nurser although you still need to work on your burping skills.
Your big brother is adjusting nicely to your existence. He’s a bit bewildered about why pacis are only for babies but seeing Daddy change a few nasty diapers has him reconsidering potty training. He told us he had to go and went on the big potty chair a few times right after you were born and whenever we change you he says, “Eeewww.” He really thinks having a baby is all about eating pizza, watching cartoons at the hospital and getting a new remote control car. Although at one point he did look at you and ask, “Ok, now where’s my baby brother??”
The official story? Well, you were due July 12 and Mama went to the doc that day for an exam and learned she was 4 cm dilated. (Auntie Lala said, “Ask for the epidural now! You can get an epidural at 4 cm.”) Dr. L stripped Mama’s membranes (not nearly as horrible as it sounds… it was nothing like juicing an orange…. Which is the mental image I get from the name….) and said he would be out of town Friday-Sunday. Rats. That night Mama had steady but mild contractions for about 2 hours… so I cleaned the toilet (what? When I had your brother I got sick and nothing says, “I love you and I prepared for you” like a nice clean toilet… I even used Dr. Bronner’s peppermint soap so it would be minty fresh.) The contractions were steady enough that I put my toothbrush in the overnight bag…. There is nothing more depressing than getting your toothbrush out of the overnight bag in the morning to brush before you go to work… again.
The night of the 13th (Thursday) I decided you might never come so no point in being worried about it. Daniel & I stopped at the grocery store and stocked up on the essentials… just in case. I was starving that night and then had to take a nap…. Oh, hind-sight, you are 20/20.
I woke up at 4:26 thinking I might be having a contraction. I, of course, couldn’t go back to sleep so I got up and started actually timing them at 5:21. Took a nice shower, braided my hair, packed up the essentials & put them in the car, made sure the cell phones & cameras were charged, cleaned the fridge, put on grey eyeliner (a little joke between your father and I…. He always said I would stop in the middle of labor to put on grey eyeliner…. He’s been right every time), put on my “go to the hospital” outfit of grey yoga capris & your father’s maroon t-shirt, cleaned the sink, started the dishwasher, watered the pots on the porch, tidied the living room and, at a few minutes after 6, woke your daddy and said, “It’s time.” Daddy responded with, “Time to get up or time to go to the hospital?” And I said, “Probably both but no rush…. I can still clean through a contraction and they are still 12-15 minutes apart.” I called your Nana to come stay with your brother and Daddy took a shower and took out the garbage (we are nothing if not Virgos). I called the doctor and got a message for the on-call doc…. A doc I don’t know… so I left a cheery message about being in labor. Then I called l&d at the hospital and had another cheery conversation and told them we were on our way. I’m sure the nurse thought I was an idiot. Meanwhile the on-call doc had called back and left a message on daddy’s cell phone saying to go to l&d and have them page Dr. L and good luck. Again with the…. “Lady, I’m pretty sure you’re an idiot” overtones…..
So we set up the tv so your brother could watch some cartoons and showed Nana how to run the dvd player and casually headed to town a few minutes before 7:00 am…. It might have been as early as 6:40. We talked about driving through the Subaru parking lot and car shopping but decided to do that on the way home… a wise decision. We were so proud of ourselves for avoiding 8:00 Capitol Complex traffic. It was such a comfortable drive compared to the trip we made for your brother. I could talk, the contractions were far apart and not uncomfortable yet. No need to brace myself and arch my back and swear during them…. We even made fun of the contract engine we passed…. They were traveling in their yellow shirts…. A sure sign of dorks.
Once at the hospital we parked (no drop-off-the-door-doesn’t-work-and-I-can’t-read insanity like with your brother) and called our offices to let them know we wouldn’t be in, then I called your grandpa and talked about harvest for a while…. He said the wheat would be ripe in about 20 minutes and I said I thought maybe I would be too…. Little did I know….. I told him we’d call him around noon because maybe something would be happening by then. Then I called your Auntie Cassidy to apologize for not waiting for her & grandma to be there. We talked about how hot it was and how nice a/c is…. By this time Mama is standing by the emergency entrance feeling like a Valley Gal for chatting on her cell phone like a big dork. We go in and register and the receptionist assumes I am there to be induced. "No, this is pretty much active labor for her,” your father tells her. She tells us we will be going to the “Rule Out” room…. As in to rule out labor. This makes me laugh. As we are waiting for someone with a wheel chair to come get us I am joking with another pregnant lady there who is going to be induced. The Slowest Driver In The World takes us to l&d. I remember the trip there with your brother…. Flying down the hall while daddy ran along behind carrying a ream of admit papers with the overnight bag banging against his hip… all big eyes & a pale face. I decided this leisurely pace was much better.
We met our nurse, Elizabeth, and settled into the “rule out” room for monitoring. I got into a gown and that funny belly band thing that is really stockinet like what Grandma had around her rolling pin. We started filling out paperwork and noted, at some point in there, that the time was 7:20 am. At this point I’m still thinking I might get to glance at the new “Health” magazine I so optimistically stuck in the overnight bag at the last minute.
We are filling out the reams of paperwork that are really only about 3 pages but seem like reams when the contractions start getting a bit more serious and closer together. Elizabeth notes that I’m having some stronger and some milder and I don’t seem to even notice the mild ones…..at this point I have one that lasts about 3 minutes….. I noticed that one…. And she exams me and says I’m over 5, stretchy, and can easily go to a 6…. Which makes me note, “Oh I came in at a 6 last time…” Elizabeth has seen my chart and decides to speed things along and move us to a room…. I wish I could tell you what time it was…. I’ll have to ask your father…. Probably around 7:50.
So we get unhooked from the monitor and meander down the hall to room 408. I get hooked up to the portable monitor and prepare myself to do the power lap. Pace, focus, pace, stand over the toilet when the contraction hits in case I pee (what? I don’t want to pee on the floor and then slip in it…. I’m sure that’s something you could sue the hospital for…. Isn’t it?) and Elizabeth steps into the hall to do something and promises to hook me up to a saline drip as soon as she gets back. I go into the bathroom as a contraction hits (I swear, at this point, I had no ulterior motives… I was just doing my power lap.) and I’m pretty sure my water broke over the toilet. (Tidy of me, don’t you think?) Elizabeth came hussling in there and said, “Don’t you dare push.” I looked at her to say, “Oh no, I would never do that…” but instead my body said, “Push? Oh that sounds like a lovely idea…. Let’s push.” But my brain said, “No, too soon… pace.” And Elizabeth said, “We need to exam you…. Let’s get you to bed.” And I said, “Can I have the drugs now? I know the drugs will make me not want to push.” Elizabeth, so kind, says, “Let’s exam you first.” And I can tell by the look on her face there will be no drugs today. Your father said at this point I had stopped joking and laughing and my “game face” was on. So I get on the bed & Elizabeth says I am at a 9 and she looks just a little shell shocked. She yells down the hall for “Carol & a delivery cart & I need a little help in here & we are crowning & page Lechner again.” Then Lechner pops into the room like some sort of super hero and then pops out again to change…. I swear he musta changed in the hallway… he was back fast. (He told me yesterday he was hauling ass to get there… swearing at the traffic…. And then the only thing he could think was his scrubs weren’t tied tight enough and his pants would fall down and he’d hit his head and be sprawled out in the corridor in his undies and miss the delivery anyway….) So I’m at a 9 and I’m really, really having to focus to keep myself from pushing. Lechner comes back and as he walks around the end of the bed (not broken down for deliver yet…. The story of our lives…) he grabs the “Blue Goose” bulb booger sucker. I remember thinking that was odd. But I’m feeling better and a little more in control of myself again (Your father said I was totally zoned out, glazed over & had on my satan-face. Me, I was feeling more like your brother must feel when we say, “Are you pooping?” when they were telling me not to push…. No, I’m not pushing…. I really was trying not to push…..) But then I said, “Ok, I’m not pushing… it’s easier…. Or something really coherent like that….” And the doc says, “Doesn’t really matter now….” And I realize what Elizabeth had been doing was holding your head in and it is out and he is suctioning you…. That explains why he grabbed the blue goose as he got there. And then you are there. And I can see (I was kinda up on my elbows and left hip) you come out and cry and Daddy said, “It’s a girl.” And he was crying and laughing and kissing me and saying, “That was too fast. I wasn’t ready.” The doc says, “ The only thing keeping the baby in at all was she had her arm up around her neck… that and the bridge of her nose.”
I just wanted to freeze that moment in time. The beauty of your first little cries and knowing you were safe and whole and perfect. The fleeting moment of terror thinking about being the mother of a teenaged daughter. Seeing that gorgeous ring of black hair and those bright little eyes. Those tiny little frog legs. Shock and awe and more than a little fear about taking you home and being responsible for your tiny little self. Your dragon lady finger nails. That beautifully soft and only slightly mottled pink skin. Those adorable little pearl toes…. Feet impossibly big and incredibly tiny at the same time. All these thoughts in an instant.
The nurse takes you and starts doing all that stuff they do and they are ohhing and ahhing over your round little head and how “dry” you are…. You were ready to come out, dear girl. Lech looks at me and says, “Ok, well, now all we need is a push to get the placenta out and….. (I get all geared up for the “real” work) and oh, never mind… there it is….” I never did get to push. I never got an iv. No pitocin after to get the placenta out…. Nothing…. Not even a need for frozen maxi pads. One tiny little tear on the side that didn’t even warrant a stitch. Obviously, no Jacuzzi (I really did think I’d get to do that this time.) The good things…. No throwing up and no passing out afterwards…. With your brother I spent most of the first day passing out whenever I tried to get up…. With you I got to shower before 10 and was walking around whenever I wanted….. I took an extra-strength Aleve after you were born…. And another one that night to ward off nipple pain….. that’s all the hospital drugs I got.
And you. You were gorgeous from moment one but you just kept getting cuter every hour….. which –I am sure- when I can look back objectively at your first pictures…. I will realize is a blessing.
I’ve managed to shower every day since you were born and we’ve accomplished one “major” goal every day. Well, you know my idea of a “major” goal is successfully managing to vacuum the house or going to the store to buy a sprinkler system and “c” batteries. Goals still on my list include putting the bumper pads in the crib (you sleep in the bassinet) and trimming your nails (I tried to do one, nicked you, barely made you squeak but traumatized me for days…. So Daddy tried, nicked you, and decided you could just wear those gowns with mittens for a few days until we got our nerve back…. So you have two trimmed nails & a scratched face.) Other goals include giving you a bath (maybe this afternoon) and pumping. (My milk came in quite nicely and I’m battling engorgement by wearing a regular bra (not one of those flimsy sleep bras) 24 hours a day… but pumping… pre-prepped by dosing with Aleve…. Would be a good idea.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Baby Love....
Darling Girl
July 14, 2006
8:04 am
20.5 inches
7lbs, 12oz
You can go to stpetes.org and look at her in the virtual nursery. This post will only be up (with her name) for a little bit so GO NOW!!! Her name is my sister's middle name, my middle name & my other sister's first name.
The birth story is HILARIOUS... but I don't have time (and I'm working via dial-up) so you'll just have to wait.
July 14, 2006
8:04 am
20.5 inches
7lbs, 12oz
You can go to stpetes.org and look at her in the virtual nursery. This post will only be up (with her name) for a little bit so GO NOW!!! Her name is my sister's middle name, my middle name & my other sister's first name.
The birth story is HILARIOUS... but I don't have time (and I'm working via dial-up) so you'll just have to wait.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
So do you refer to it as T PLUS one day and counting????
Wanna know what’s depressing? I had to dig my pit stick out of the overnight bag to get ready for work this morning. Yes, I got so excited by the two hours of mild-but-regular contractions last night that I actually put the final elements in the overnight bag….. alas, it was not to be…..
Yes, I was due yesterday. Yes, we are all very sure of the due date (Please don’t make me go into details here…. My brother reads this site). Yes, I am very carefully avoiding going to any place like babycenter.com that will tell me all about the cute little bundle of joy I am now holding…..
I went to the doc at 4:30 yesterday. The baby is so low I can’t sit up properly. 35cm (down from 38 last week). I’m 4 cm dilated. I told Lala this and she said, “Ask for the epidural now. You can have an epidural at 4 cm.”
The doc said, I quote, "I can't bounce the baby's head." I looked over at his nurse and mouthed, "I can't bounce the baby's head????" She laughed out loud and said, "No, that's a good thing." I guess it means the baby is so low s/he is wedged in there and doesn't boing back up when he pushes. He stripped my membranes (without telling me exactly what he was doing) and it was uncomfortable but not as miserable as I thought it would be.... They really should change the name. “Stripping your membranes” makes me expect ripping sounds & a spurting sensation…. Like juicing an orange. When that is what your expecting, really, anything less is pretty nice.
So I was still feeling moderately friendly towards him and then he told me he would be out of town Fri night - Sun afternoon.... damn. I really like my doc but I don’t feel like waiting around until Sunday night to hatch. Sorry. Although the up side to that would be my sister would be here…. I say this like I have ANY control over the situation….
I went home and had some minor contractions 12-20 minutes apart from about 7-9 so I casually made sure everything was loaded in the overnight bag then I did what any sane pregnant woman in the early stages of labor would do…. I cleaned the toilet. What? Last time I ended up throwing up and I like a clean bowl when I’m communing with the porcelain goddess. I even cleaned with Dr. Bronner’s so it had a refreshing peppermint scent.
Then I went to bed thinking I should get some rest.... and woke up this morning and looked around for the baby. Hot Stuff opened one eye, looked at me, looked at the clock, looked at my belly, and flopped the pillow over his head.
I have that heavy-low feeling...... like the baby is RIGHT THERE and if I just relax enough things will happen.... but nothing is happening.
The doc said if I continue to dilate & don't go into labor he will see me at 3:00 on Monday the 17th and probably break my water to get things started.
I’m still feeling pretty good but I also feel like I’ve milked this situation for all the comic fodder it can possibly provide… it’s time to bring on the BIRTH STORIES…..
Yes, I was due yesterday. Yes, we are all very sure of the due date (Please don’t make me go into details here…. My brother reads this site). Yes, I am very carefully avoiding going to any place like babycenter.com that will tell me all about the cute little bundle of joy I am now holding…..
I went to the doc at 4:30 yesterday. The baby is so low I can’t sit up properly. 35cm (down from 38 last week). I’m 4 cm dilated. I told Lala this and she said, “Ask for the epidural now. You can have an epidural at 4 cm.”
The doc said, I quote, "I can't bounce the baby's head." I looked over at his nurse and mouthed, "I can't bounce the baby's head????" She laughed out loud and said, "No, that's a good thing." I guess it means the baby is so low s/he is wedged in there and doesn't boing back up when he pushes. He stripped my membranes (without telling me exactly what he was doing) and it was uncomfortable but not as miserable as I thought it would be.... They really should change the name. “Stripping your membranes” makes me expect ripping sounds & a spurting sensation…. Like juicing an orange. When that is what your expecting, really, anything less is pretty nice.
So I was still feeling moderately friendly towards him and then he told me he would be out of town Fri night - Sun afternoon.... damn. I really like my doc but I don’t feel like waiting around until Sunday night to hatch. Sorry. Although the up side to that would be my sister would be here…. I say this like I have ANY control over the situation….
I went home and had some minor contractions 12-20 minutes apart from about 7-9 so I casually made sure everything was loaded in the overnight bag then I did what any sane pregnant woman in the early stages of labor would do…. I cleaned the toilet. What? Last time I ended up throwing up and I like a clean bowl when I’m communing with the porcelain goddess. I even cleaned with Dr. Bronner’s so it had a refreshing peppermint scent.
Then I went to bed thinking I should get some rest.... and woke up this morning and looked around for the baby. Hot Stuff opened one eye, looked at me, looked at the clock, looked at my belly, and flopped the pillow over his head.
I have that heavy-low feeling...... like the baby is RIGHT THERE and if I just relax enough things will happen.... but nothing is happening.
The doc said if I continue to dilate & don't go into labor he will see me at 3:00 on Monday the 17th and probably break my water to get things started.
I’m still feeling pretty good but I also feel like I’ve milked this situation for all the comic fodder it can possibly provide… it’s time to bring on the BIRTH STORIES…..
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Remembering things I learned in Baby School…. Revisited.
We didn’t do baby school this time around. I may regret that when it comes time to breast feed. I turned out to be a brilliant breastfeeder (I’ve always wanted to say that…) but the start was, um, rocky to say the least. But I know we will muddle through with a little help from our friends…. (My best friend is a freakin’ lactation consultant and the proud mother of a pair of ta-tas that have nursed three little ones into toddlerhood….. and she’s just a phone call away….)
I almost got kicked out of baby school for comparing that little plastic thingy that shows the centimeters of dilation to a spaghetti measurer. What? That’s what it looks like. I believe the comment was, “Shit. That’d make enough spaghetti for a football team.”
Hot Stuff almost got kicked out for saying, “No fuckin’ way.” Outloud. When she showed the model of the pelvis and the model of the baby head and how that whole situation was supposed to work. He also swears he wrote “would be better with beer” on the comment card for “Daddy Boot Camp.”
The breathing. Does this actually work for anyone? Now, I did use some very serious yoga-breathing techniques but all that hoo-hoo-hee-hee stuff just made me lightheaded…. It could be that I was thinking I was still in early labor and I was actually in TRANSITION…. So, my mistake.
Don’t let your husband eat onion sandwiches. Really. There were a few choice gems that came out of Baby School…. This was one of them.
Timing contractions. I’m sure they taught us this but damned if I can remember. I think it is from the start of one to the start of the next…. And since I’ve posted about it twice today maybe I should stop obsessing and just look it up on the internet.
Slow dance your partner through her contractions. Hot Stuff says this is the biggest load of crap he’s every heard…. He couldn’t even catch up to me…. Let alone dance with me. He finally looked deeply into my eyes and said, “I’ll do whatever you need. If you need me I’ll be sitting in this chair right here.” And I went back to pacing my little lap around the room…. Pausing only to stand straddled over the toilet during contractions because I felt like I was going to pee…. Sorry, tmi, but I think people need to KNOW these things are a possibility….
Think of a flower bud opening gracefully. Yes, indeed, this is the image I am supposed to have of my cervix. You wanna know what I thought about? Some sort of sci-fi telescope aperture. You know what I’m talking about…. I wish I could find a picture….
I almost got kicked out of baby school for comparing that little plastic thingy that shows the centimeters of dilation to a spaghetti measurer. What? That’s what it looks like. I believe the comment was, “Shit. That’d make enough spaghetti for a football team.”
Hot Stuff almost got kicked out for saying, “No fuckin’ way.” Outloud. When she showed the model of the pelvis and the model of the baby head and how that whole situation was supposed to work. He also swears he wrote “would be better with beer” on the comment card for “Daddy Boot Camp.”
The breathing. Does this actually work for anyone? Now, I did use some very serious yoga-breathing techniques but all that hoo-hoo-hee-hee stuff just made me lightheaded…. It could be that I was thinking I was still in early labor and I was actually in TRANSITION…. So, my mistake.
Don’t let your husband eat onion sandwiches. Really. There were a few choice gems that came out of Baby School…. This was one of them.
Timing contractions. I’m sure they taught us this but damned if I can remember. I think it is from the start of one to the start of the next…. And since I’ve posted about it twice today maybe I should stop obsessing and just look it up on the internet.
Slow dance your partner through her contractions. Hot Stuff says this is the biggest load of crap he’s every heard…. He couldn’t even catch up to me…. Let alone dance with me. He finally looked deeply into my eyes and said, “I’ll do whatever you need. If you need me I’ll be sitting in this chair right here.” And I went back to pacing my little lap around the room…. Pausing only to stand straddled over the toilet during contractions because I felt like I was going to pee…. Sorry, tmi, but I think people need to KNOW these things are a possibility….
Think of a flower bud opening gracefully. Yes, indeed, this is the image I am supposed to have of my cervix. You wanna know what I thought about? Some sort of sci-fi telescope aperture. You know what I’m talking about…. I wish I could find a picture….
Because it isn't all about me.....
In other news:
I finally dusted my living room and the only spot that wasn’t totally coated was the “naughty chair.” Yes, indeed, we are two now.
Sweet Boy LOVES the diving board. I believe this is another case of his physical development being far in advance of his mental development. He has NO FEAR about the diving board and bails off while mama-shamu floats nearby with a funoodle and prays his skinny little arms don’t squirt out of his arm floaties. He doesn’t know he should be scared to jump and now has started doing silly arm motions like he’s going to dive like he sees the big kids do…. NO FEAR. Sprinklers, on the other hand, terrify him.
My dear sweet boy has no idea what he is in for..... I just hope he continues to be so good at entertaining himself. Last night he wanted to paint so we got out his "painting box" (a white boot box that is turning into quite the work of art) and his paints (sponge-tops… the only way to go) and we sat on the porch and painted until the wind started blowing. I got to read most of a magazine, put my feet up & drink a big glass of peppermint tea all the while congratulating myself on fostering my son's creativity & independent spirit.
Driving home the other night. Sweet Boy & I have the tunes turned up loud & we are rocking out to the Shrek soundtrack. SB says, “Wait, Mama, Cwap.” (Cwap? Did he just hooey in his pants? Is this going back to the, “Look, Mama, it’s full of cwap.” Thing when he filled his toy horse trailer with play dough? Mama brains move at lightning speed when trying to decipher the babbling of the young.) I say, “What?” And SB responds with, “Cwap. Mama. Cwap. Like dis.” And he starts clapping his hands in time to the music.
I finally dusted my living room and the only spot that wasn’t totally coated was the “naughty chair.” Yes, indeed, we are two now.
Sweet Boy LOVES the diving board. I believe this is another case of his physical development being far in advance of his mental development. He has NO FEAR about the diving board and bails off while mama-shamu floats nearby with a funoodle and prays his skinny little arms don’t squirt out of his arm floaties. He doesn’t know he should be scared to jump and now has started doing silly arm motions like he’s going to dive like he sees the big kids do…. NO FEAR. Sprinklers, on the other hand, terrify him.
My dear sweet boy has no idea what he is in for..... I just hope he continues to be so good at entertaining himself. Last night he wanted to paint so we got out his "painting box" (a white boot box that is turning into quite the work of art) and his paints (sponge-tops… the only way to go) and we sat on the porch and painted until the wind started blowing. I got to read most of a magazine, put my feet up & drink a big glass of peppermint tea all the while congratulating myself on fostering my son's creativity & independent spirit.
Driving home the other night. Sweet Boy & I have the tunes turned up loud & we are rocking out to the Shrek soundtrack. SB says, “Wait, Mama, Cwap.” (Cwap? Did he just hooey in his pants? Is this going back to the, “Look, Mama, it’s full of cwap.” Thing when he filled his toy horse trailer with play dough? Mama brains move at lightning speed when trying to decipher the babbling of the young.) I say, “What?” And SB responds with, “Cwap. Mama. Cwap. Like dis.” And he starts clapping his hands in time to the music.
Happy Due Date to Me.....
Every morning I check around the bed just to make sure the baby didn’t fall out during the night. So far…. Nothing. There seem to be several reasons I’m just not quite ready to go into labor.
1. FYE. It’s a big deadline for me at work and it is officially over today. Well, at midnight tonight.
2. My sis-in-law is here and my sister isn’t. Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure I’ve mentioned my sis-in-law is wonderful person. I KNOW if I go into labor she will want to be supportive & helpful & in the delivery room if at all possible. WE MUST AVOID THIS AT ALL COSTS…. Because who wants to see another child in the system just because a mom couldn’t control herself and killed her sister-in-law during labor and delivery?? And I just don’t think I would be very good at making license plates…..
3. My sister isn’t here. She’s in Calgary at the Stampede (and having her own “Could I plead insanity if I killed someone in Canada right now?” issues as my mother is traveling with her and can be, ehem, a bit of a challenge.) She gets back Sunday and would really like me to hold off hatching until then.
4. I can’t remember how to time contractions. Seriously. I think it is the beginning of one to the beginning of the next one but I’m just not sure. How did women do this stuff before they knew they were supposed to time their contractions??
5. My teats aren’t waxy.
6. My husband keeps staying out late on fires… this is actually a good thing since we need that overtime pay to cover the costs of having a baby. Indeed, I put the baby on the credit card…. So I’m getting frequent flyer miles AND a new kid. I’d call that a bargain at ANY price.
7. I have ice cream to finish. I will switch to Wilcoxson’s fudgecicles after the baby is born…. I can wolf those down one-handed…. But for now there is a carton of Dreyer’s slow-churned (that stuff is GOOD) calling my name and it requires two hands (or The Shelf) to eat. Have I mentioned I’m actually SCARED to eat a root beer float?? I have so much to do at work and I’m so worried about SIL wanting to be in l&d with me I am AVOIDING things that, superstitiously, MIGHT put me into labor (well, the root beer float seemed to be what did it LAST time…. Says my pregnant brain….)
8. My loving & supportive husband (who assures me there is no way ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH I DON’T CARE IF HELL DID JUST FREEZE OVER & YOU”RE MAKING MARGARITAS FOR THE PARTY his sister will be anywhere NEAR the hospital for delivery) is having strange anxiety dreams about redneck mafia guys and fire protection issues and being run off the road by fancy black cars & redneck pickups and it cracks me up.
9. We’ve decided on names…. Officially. (oops…. That’s a reason TO go into labor, isn’t it??)
10. I’m wearing really cute panties today and I just can’t WAIT for another trial run at the stirrups for my appointment this afternoon. Really. You can’t practice that stuff enough.
11. Everyone says I’m really gorgeous in the shamu-suit.
12. I bought a pack of newborn diapers and they are so tiny I don’t want to use them…. So I’m waiting until the kid is too big for them like Sweet Boy was….I
13. ’m really out of shape. At some point in the next 3-4 days I really need to get in shape for delivery…. Hit the gym, do some yoga, go for a walk…. something. You know the phrase, “Damn, I wish I’d done some Kegal’s.” is going to come out of my mouth during the drive to the hospital. There. I just did a few now…. I feel better, don’t you??
1. FYE. It’s a big deadline for me at work and it is officially over today. Well, at midnight tonight.
2. My sis-in-law is here and my sister isn’t. Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure I’ve mentioned my sis-in-law is wonderful person. I KNOW if I go into labor she will want to be supportive & helpful & in the delivery room if at all possible. WE MUST AVOID THIS AT ALL COSTS…. Because who wants to see another child in the system just because a mom couldn’t control herself and killed her sister-in-law during labor and delivery?? And I just don’t think I would be very good at making license plates…..
3. My sister isn’t here. She’s in Calgary at the Stampede (and having her own “Could I plead insanity if I killed someone in Canada right now?” issues as my mother is traveling with her and can be, ehem, a bit of a challenge.) She gets back Sunday and would really like me to hold off hatching until then.
4. I can’t remember how to time contractions. Seriously. I think it is the beginning of one to the beginning of the next one but I’m just not sure. How did women do this stuff before they knew they were supposed to time their contractions??
5. My teats aren’t waxy.
6. My husband keeps staying out late on fires… this is actually a good thing since we need that overtime pay to cover the costs of having a baby. Indeed, I put the baby on the credit card…. So I’m getting frequent flyer miles AND a new kid. I’d call that a bargain at ANY price.
7. I have ice cream to finish. I will switch to Wilcoxson’s fudgecicles after the baby is born…. I can wolf those down one-handed…. But for now there is a carton of Dreyer’s slow-churned (that stuff is GOOD) calling my name and it requires two hands (or The Shelf) to eat. Have I mentioned I’m actually SCARED to eat a root beer float?? I have so much to do at work and I’m so worried about SIL wanting to be in l&d with me I am AVOIDING things that, superstitiously, MIGHT put me into labor (well, the root beer float seemed to be what did it LAST time…. Says my pregnant brain….)
8. My loving & supportive husband (who assures me there is no way ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH I DON’T CARE IF HELL DID JUST FREEZE OVER & YOU”RE MAKING MARGARITAS FOR THE PARTY his sister will be anywhere NEAR the hospital for delivery) is having strange anxiety dreams about redneck mafia guys and fire protection issues and being run off the road by fancy black cars & redneck pickups and it cracks me up.
9. We’ve decided on names…. Officially. (oops…. That’s a reason TO go into labor, isn’t it??)
10. I’m wearing really cute panties today and I just can’t WAIT for another trial run at the stirrups for my appointment this afternoon. Really. You can’t practice that stuff enough.
11. Everyone says I’m really gorgeous in the shamu-suit.
12. I bought a pack of newborn diapers and they are so tiny I don’t want to use them…. So I’m waiting until the kid is too big for them like Sweet Boy was….I
13. ’m really out of shape. At some point in the next 3-4 days I really need to get in shape for delivery…. Hit the gym, do some yoga, go for a walk…. something. You know the phrase, “Damn, I wish I’d done some Kegal’s.” is going to come out of my mouth during the drive to the hospital. There. I just did a few now…. I feel better, don’t you??
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Update.....
Yeah.... nothin'.
But I did have fun last night at the grocery store telling people I was due in 36 hours......
But I did have fun last night at the grocery store telling people I was due in 36 hours......
Friday, July 07, 2006
"Are your teats getting waxy??"
"Are your teats getting waxy??"
Ok, so that is going on record as the STRANGEST pregnant-lady question EVER. And guess who asked? MY DAD. He's a vet and, apparently, mares get waxy teats just before they foal. (And, hey, who knows?? Might help with that nursing nipple pain... maybe the horses are on to something.) But I do love how he refers to it as foaling. Not labor, not delivery... just, "So, have you foaled yet??"
The Wednesday stats: 39weeks0days. 38 cm... same as last week. Up less than a pound. 25 lbs for the pregnancy. 140-150 heart rate. Head down. No internal exam so nothing to report there. I did put in a few minutes in the outside hot tub (it isn't very hot but more like a warm bath....) and several hours in the pool this week so I'm hoping that helps the dilation.
My doc says, "You are at 39 weeks. You've had a text book pregnancy so far. You have a week left.... don't screw it up." I love that man. We discussed c-section rates in the area and his personal views on it. We also discussed car seat positioning for two in a car, a Jeep Cherokee & a bigger pickup with suicide doors. He told me the only way he can maintain an office practice as a family doc is because most women go into labor at night so he rarely has to cancel his office hours. Isn't that interesting?
I'm in that last little stage of pregnancy that I sort of forgot about... the one where you can't call anyone.... because when your number shows on caller id they answer all breathless and asking, "Is it a girl? Is it a boy?" and I have to say, "No, it's just me." And then they sound so disappointed. I can't handle disappointing people like that.
And the nesting..... I'm a nesting sort of person by nature.... pregnancy just takes it to a new level... a boarderline psychotic level..... Wednesday morning I decided I could start packing up maternity clothes. I was one week from delivery and I know he won't let me go more than 14 days over my due date so if I keep out my favorite 7 outfits and plan to wear each of them three times.... yes, people, this is mommy-math and it is going to do nothing but get funnier after baby #2 is born.....
And just for those of you wondering... the 7 favorite outfits are: 1. The 1940's curtains top (see previous picture) with denim capris. 2. the white Adidas t-shirt with pale blue capris. 3. the red Old Navy camisole top with dark blue shorts. 4. the black t-shirt with the black flowered skirt (a non-maternity item) 5. The blue-black striped stretchy shirt & denim skirt. 6. the white sleeveless polo and black yoga pants. 7. The stretchy pink & black flowered shirt & the black skirt or black capris. And, of course, the famous shamu suit.... I really must get pics of my maternity swimwear this weekend.... because you all deserve a good solid gut laugh for sticking with me through this whole post.
And with that.... I'm outta here. Maybe my next post will have baby pictures.... but probably not.....
Weekly Update from Nadine's Mama
Hello dear friends!
Hope you had a wonderful 4th of July weekend -- we sure did. We dragged the whole family up to Lincoln for the Rodeo on Sunday. It almost felt like a regular old summer watching Levi look for his boots in "The Boot Race!" He was the last little guy in the arena, because some other kid took one of his boots, and therefore the two left were not a matched set. He knew the rules, and he was supposed to put on HIS boots!!!!!
We went to the (name removed) Ranch for our annual July 4th barbeque and fireworks, and were delighted to be there as usual. Didn't think we'd probably make it this year.....
Nadine had her check-up this morning, and here's what we know:
1. We'll check back in to St. Pete's first thing Monday morning to start round three of chemo.
2. Sometime on Tuesday they'll do a full-body CT Scan, to make sure that nothing new is growing where it shouldn't be.... (that scares the cr...p out of me).
3. We'll be there about a week. She usually is feeling great for visitors the first day, and into the mid-afternoon of the second day. The second evening and third day really stink, and we keep her knocked out as much as possible. Sleeping is merciful, in this case. Then, by that evening and into day 5, she has seemed to perk up again. Keep in mind that I'm basing this on her previous two rounds of this chemo protocol, and this one could be completely different!!!
4. This means that we have the rest of this week and the weekend to really LIVE IT UP!!!
Friday evening, July 7th, Levi will be riding sheep (aka "Mutton-Busting") at the East Helena Rodeo. He will ride in the "pre-rodeo" which is about 6:30pm. The regular rodeo schedule starts at 7:00 pm. We'll be there in the Levi cheering section, with Nadine, and hope you can come to cheer him on!!!
Saturday, July 8th, we'll all be attending mass at "Our Lady of Lourdes" in Marysville (the little country church where we got married) and then attending the annual Marysville Pioneer Picnic. This is the once-a-year opportunity to attend mass in this beautiful historic building. Father Dan, from Our Lady of the Valley, serves mass, and usually the Brennan's are the music ministry. It's awesome. If you can join us, that would be wonderful. Also, the Pioneer Picnic is a lovely family afternoon in our little ghost town with a colorful past! Games for kids, Baron of Beef picnic lunch, live music and auctions, etc. Hope to see you here.
Thanks to everyone for keeping us sane this summer, and helping in so many ways.
Love, The Mama
Hope you had a wonderful 4th of July weekend -- we sure did. We dragged the whole family up to Lincoln for the Rodeo on Sunday. It almost felt like a regular old summer watching Levi look for his boots in "The Boot Race!" He was the last little guy in the arena, because some other kid took one of his boots, and therefore the two left were not a matched set. He knew the rules, and he was supposed to put on HIS boots!!!!!
We went to the (name removed) Ranch for our annual July 4th barbeque and fireworks, and were delighted to be there as usual. Didn't think we'd probably make it this year.....
Nadine had her check-up this morning, and here's what we know:
1. We'll check back in to St. Pete's first thing Monday morning to start round three of chemo.
2. Sometime on Tuesday they'll do a full-body CT Scan, to make sure that nothing new is growing where it shouldn't be.... (that scares the cr...p out of me).
3. We'll be there about a week. She usually is feeling great for visitors the first day, and into the mid-afternoon of the second day. The second evening and third day really stink, and we keep her knocked out as much as possible. Sleeping is merciful, in this case. Then, by that evening and into day 5, she has seemed to perk up again. Keep in mind that I'm basing this on her previous two rounds of this chemo protocol, and this one could be completely different!!!
4. This means that we have the rest of this week and the weekend to really LIVE IT UP!!!
Friday evening, July 7th, Levi will be riding sheep (aka "Mutton-Busting") at the East Helena Rodeo. He will ride in the "pre-rodeo" which is about 6:30pm. The regular rodeo schedule starts at 7:00 pm. We'll be there in the Levi cheering section, with Nadine, and hope you can come to cheer him on!!!
Saturday, July 8th, we'll all be attending mass at "Our Lady of Lourdes" in Marysville (the little country church where we got married) and then attending the annual Marysville Pioneer Picnic. This is the once-a-year opportunity to attend mass in this beautiful historic building. Father Dan, from Our Lady of the Valley, serves mass, and usually the Brennan's are the music ministry. It's awesome. If you can join us, that would be wonderful. Also, the Pioneer Picnic is a lovely family afternoon in our little ghost town with a colorful past! Games for kids, Baron of Beef picnic lunch, live music and auctions, etc. Hope to see you here.
Thanks to everyone for keeping us sane this summer, and helping in so many ways.
Love, The Mama
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Further Evidence to Support the Theory of Evolution....
Is it coincidence a pint of Ben & Jerry's nestles perfect spoon-distance on the anatomy of a pregnant woman? I think not.
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