I lost my feet today. I was in the shower, looked down, and they were gone. The feeling was slight panic. Similar, I imagine, to a child in the early stages of development, when an adult says "I got your nose! Where'd your nose go? It's gone!" and the child starts crying. They honestly are not sure it will ever come back. You were good feet.

Opposite Land

No picture this time. I feel like I need a picture in order to keep people's attention. I decided to post a link to this blog on facebook yesterday; I was very torn about doing so, because part of me wanted to keep it anonymous. I have a terrible habit of being too honest, saying exactly what I think about people, thinking there's no way they would actually read this. And part of me secretly hoping they'll read this, so they can hear what I think, but later regretting the decision. For these reasons, and my inane habit of putting my foot in my mouth and offending whole ethnic groups, weight classes or religions in one fell swoop, I hesitated. But my desire to not be speaking into a void got the better of me, my desire to be heard. And I've heard from a couple of you that you're entertained, meaning at least my embarrassing moments can be joy for someone. So onward I go.

So I've gotten many "Congratulations" about this whole business now that the word is out. It's apparently a natural sentiment, because everyone says it, but I find it an odd one. For a few reasons.
1) What if this was an accident? It wasn't, not that I'm sure I'd confess if it was, but do you congratulate people for accidents? And unless you know for sure, doesn't this make the sentiment thin ice?
2) You're essentially congratulating us for bumping uglies. That A's boys can swim. That my eggs... I don't think my eggs really did anything. Weird thing to congratulate.

I know that for some (many) people it is not so easy. There is much effort involved and thus congratulations are due. Perhaps it is just our own peculiar circumstances that make the whole thing a little odd, I'm sure many have earned those congratulations. For many, the boys didn't just swim, they had to learn freaking acrobatics.

Once you get pregnant, and even before that, you enter opposite land. Suddenly you can tell your parents "We're trying" and they're psyched that their little girl is having sex. This thing that you've tried for a decade or more to avoid suddenly becomes the sought after goal. This condition that would have embarrassed you in High School, and even in College, becomes cause for congratulations.

On a side note, but a happy one, I finally submitted my final revisions for my Master's thesis yesterday. I wash my hands of it. I take a few days off (thus blogging rather than working). I go buy maternity clothes. That is how I celebrate.

Brown chicken, brown cow.

I had an ultrasound last week for a Downs screen. During the exam I could see little hands move whenever the ultrasound tech. pushed on my belly. It was just amazing. It was the first time it clicked that this thing that's growing is actually human.

A was bummed he couldn't be at the ultrasound, so I stopped by the ER today and he did another quick ultrasound. It looks like there might be some thumb sucking! I researched online, and though there's some disagreement about when exactly thumb sucking starts, some place it as early as 7 to 9 weeks.

I also read that there's a relationship between prenatal thumbsucking and postnatal handedness, but unfortunately I can't quite figure out the orientation oft the baby relative to this picture. I think the head is down, which I think makes it the right hand, but I'm not sure.

Last thing I have to say, is that I got the first completely unnecessary baby item. But really, I think it was necessary. Brown chicken, brown cow?

So I managed to piss off the internet yesterday. Seriously. Like, the whole internet. Or so it felt. I made the mistake of posting a link to an article in the NY Times about a study linking obesity during pregnancy to increased rates of birth defects. I included a comment that I was finally doing something right, after feeling like daily I hear about all the things I'm doing wrong during pregnancy.

Sweet Jesus, Mary & Joseph! If there were e-pitchforks I would have been skewered. I managed to piss off hundreds (thousands, for all I know) of women on thebump.com. Ridiculous. They all apparently felt personally attacked and were convinced that I wish them ill and take joy out of other people being overweight. WHAT! I posted a link to a study. And every overweight woman felt I was personally out to get her. I guess I forget that people can take science and truth as a personal attack on them. I prefer to know what studies say, I'm not a fan of ignorance is bliss. It's up to you to filter the information, not me.

Anyway. Taught me a few lessons.

1) Because I can choose the content I visit on the internet, I find myself thinking that the spectrum of people on the internet are smarter, wittier and more interesting than the spectrum of people I meet in real life. That's not true. I know it's not true, but I forget. The internet is not created by a bunch of amusing gnomes that I don't encounter in the real world. And all those super annoying, dim-witted people I meet daily are some of the same people that are on the internet. I choose not to read their rantings, but when they choose to read mine I am subject to all their thick-headedness and ire.

2) A very small part of me enjoys pissing people off. But once it gets to a point that I can't talk them back down I no longer enjoy it. This means it's probably good I didn't pursue a career in law or politics, which I've so often pondered.

3) Sincerity is not translatable on the internet. I have a serious foot in mouth problem, always have. But in real life I can generally convince people I meant nothing by what I said, I just happened to say something stupid. On the internet, this doesn't seem to hold true.

Anyway, apologies to those I offended (not that they're likely to be reading this here blog.) Apologies to those I've further offended by this post. But please put your pitchforks away.

Musings

Quick note, then I must run for the bus.
1) I absolutely dread telling people I'm pregnant. Dh told all his coworkers yesterday. Me? I'd prefer to send an e-mail, or sic husband on them. Every time you tell someone there's so much drama. Women: screech and hug you. Ugh. Men: shift their gaze, look uncomfortable. No thank you. Yes, I'm pregnant. Now moving on.

2) I forgot number two. It was good though. Will post it later.

On Costa!

Map of the general area we're headed... won't be more specific because a) she deserves her privacy and b) I'm not exactly sure where on the map we're headed. Google street view hasn't exactly made it to backwoods Costa yet.


So we have booked our flight... a 'babymoon' of sorts though certainly not a traditional sit on your ass and watch waves sort of endeavour. We're headed to the Peninsula de Nicoya of Costa Rica. I visited there when I was 16 to see my friend who's family had whisked her there (permanently). I've only seen her a few times since then.

The last time was 5 years ago when I showed up on her doorstep in Oregon right as she went into labor. I stayed the night while she gave birth. It was strange but somehow felt normal. Inexplicable. Now I show up on her doorstep but will hopefully not be the one to go into labor.

So now the planning begins. How do we get from San Jose to her house? is 4-wheel drive necessary? Can we even find her on a map? I don't know the answers to all these questions, don't particularly have the time to find answers but know we somehow will. I'm psyched. This is exactly the sort of adventure I need before settling down into Mama-dom.

In other news, we visited our first child care option the other day. Before we went we were stoked about this place; super convenient to us, a center but a very small center. But ugh. Not impressed. Neither dh nor I wanted to admit it, but we were both turned off by the trashiness of the staff. Everyone seemed very nice, very loving to the kids, etc., but the vibe I got was more I heart Walmart than I heart Ikea. Not that those should necessarily be determining factors, and not that I'm proud of my bias, but if these are to be a child's adult role models I wasn't sure that I wanted them instilling their values into my child.

But, to be fair, that was the first place we visited. Perhaps we will find that nurturer (which I'm convinced is a role the staff would excel at) is a more important role for our children than educator and mentor. Ideally we'd like some place that has all of this but that isn't pretentious. Do such places exist? I do not know but aim to find out.

Procrastination Nation

Wow, I have no excuse for how unproductive I've been for the past 1.5 weeks. I have a Master's thesis I need to revise, and all I can do with my time is cruise baby message boards and read about cloth diapering.

The cloth diaper studying is necessary, turns out, because it's apparently one of the most complicated endeavors ever. Before doing anything, one should know the weight, the gender, the leg circumference, and generally how much time/money I feel like spending on each diaper. There are prefolds, fitteds, all-in-ones, pockets, etc. (am I forgetting anything?) and everyone has their own preference. I think this is the actual reason more people don't cloth diaper, because it's so freakin complicated. And it's a large investment, so one should really do their homework. Ugh. And I find myself frustrated, because I want to start acquiring my stockpile now, but I don't know what I'm having (i.e. I know I'm having a baby, just not what flavor.) And much as I'm a fan of gender neutral equipment, all the multipacks you can buy are gender specific. Frustrating, because I want there to be NO pink regardless of the gender. But I also don't intend to have my child dressed so gender neutral that no one can tell what it is. Why add confusion to sexuality unnecessarily? Anyway, my customer technique is to cruise sale websites and acquire things when they go on sale. But until I know the gender, I guess I'll have to wait. That will only give me 6 months (half joking)! And hopefully I won't be wasting so much time by then.

Anyway. In other news, the search for a baby name and child care has begun. Name: daunting to think how I may be scarring a child for life. Child care: daunting to think how much money it will cost, and guilt ridden to think I'm a bad mother before I've even begun for abandoning my child to a stranger.