21 January 2006

Life Imitates Art

OK, so get this: In November, I write this silly vampire novel and one of my girl vampires – entirely without my permission – gets herself knocked up. In December, I start a short story in which one of the characters, you guessed it, gets herself knocked up (by an evil supernatural creature, no less). And let’s not even going to get into my strange fascination with the resident Mama Spider and her reproductive proclivities...

In any case, a couple days after starting the short story, I spend a day home from work on the couch because I’m sick. And starving at the same time. And my period is late. Yeah, yeah, you’re very smart: got myself knocked up. Creepy, just plain creepy...

No really, it’s eerie, I’m telling you. It’s like my subconscious knew all about it, while the rest of my brain was occupied cranking out NaNo-muck. And non-NaNo-muck, for that matter.

The timing is really weird, too. I mean, we had always sorta planned on two and I didn’t really like the idea of Ms. Three-Years-Old being an only child. However, she can be a handful (take potty training, which she's refusing to have any part of: 'maybe when I'm big like you' - that's a direct quote). I also didn’t like the idea of being pregnant ever again. Or breastfeeding for damn near three years (worth it, but cripes). Not to mention the fact that I had just lost 30 pounds and was weighing what I did when I graduated high school.

So we had pretty much concluded over the summer that one kid was plenty. Sometimes, more than plenty (hey, it’s hard when they’re smarter than you are).

Consequently, after seeing the little plus sign in the window of the home test, I was feeling pretty ambivalent about the whole dealio (well, in those few moments when I wasn’t wanting to puke my brains all fucking over the place). And then the midwife sent us in for an ultrasound to “confirm dates”, ‘cuz, well, we have no stinkin' idea when this happened. Eh-heh!

This is what we saw:



GODDAMN - Wouldja looka' THAT!?! It's a tiny little human!!

I got all teary. It was that cool. (Seriously, if those idiot pro-life motherfuckers really wanted to prevent abortions, they’d start donating ultrasound machines to clinics and passing laws that pregnant women have to view the fetus before aborting it. Let’s hope they’re not that smart. Or well funded.)

So, here we are. Off on the Big Adventure once again. Ms. Three-Years-Old is adjusting to the concept of being a Big Sister. The husband was so relieved it’s not twins he nearly peed himself. And me, well, progesterone levels must finally be leveling out, because I’m getting over the hell of “morning” sickness (who the fuck named it that anyway? it was clearly a man and a liar) and the creative half of my brain is starting to actually function again (hence the post here after the inexcusably long hiatus).

I’m actually excited, to be truthful. I mean, this is it. The Last Time (because somebody will be gettin’ snipped after this is all over and, heh-heh, it won’t be me). So: The last time I will have to waddle around like a cross between a duck and a frikkin’ house. The last time I will require a bottle of Tums on my person at all times to prevent reflux after absolutely everything I eat. The last time I will have to have somebody else tie my shoes because I can’t fucking reach them.

I’m going to enjoy it. Every second of it. At least until about mid-April when it will get unbearably hot south of the M-DL* and then I will commence being miserable. (Kid’s due at the end of July. Won't summer be fun.) Yee-Haa!

*Mason-Dixon Line

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