a letter I wrote on Monday

Dear idiot kid in his early 20s who tried to sympathize with me on Sunday about my pregnancy,

You know what, pal? I’ve got a feeling you don’t know what you’re talking about. I wish I’d had longer to talk to you while you were working so hard at your booth at the Taste of Tacoma, but I imagine you must have been exhausted watching people fill up paper cups with 6 ounces of water and I didn’t want to bother you. So please hear me out now.

I was first let on to what sort of brief chat we’d be having after you took one look at me and proclaimed, “Whoa! You’re going to pop any moment, huh?” Young man, I may have but a few years on you, but apparently these are very wise years. Yes, I am at a point in my pregnancy where it is 100% obvious I am pregnant, so I do not have a problem with you acknowledging this. But I have heard so many times in the past month the word “pop” in reference to the hours of grueling labor I am about to endure, that you instantly came across as the sort of guy who has never witnessed or understood the wonders of birth. Please remember this: balloons pop, pregnant women push babies out of themselves. If it was as easy as popping, men would get pregnant too.

Then, when I poured a teeny tiny cup of water, you supposed out loud that I “must be headed to the bathroom like every hour, huh?” Actually, you were wrong. Let me explain why: in the past few weeks my baby has dropped, or moved farther down into the birth canal. This has actually relieved pressure on my bladder, in my case. I can breathe a little easier, I get less heartburn, and I now walk like a drunken cowboy exiting a saloon. When I do have to pee (about every 2 hours, just so you know), I have about a one minute time span to get to the restroom before I go in my pants. Any comments about that? In the future when you see a 9 months-pregnant woman while working the water booth, I would recommend the following phrase instead, “Oh my, you must be tired from walking about the park in your advanced condition on such a hot day. Please take a free bottle of water as a token of my awe for the work you endure on a daily basis in creating a new human.”

Lastly, you seemed very curious about my state, but beyond a man’s normal curiosity. Most men would have offered questions such as, “When are you due?” or “Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” but you went beyond common tact to A Most Unusual Question that I have not been asked before in either of my pregnancies. “So are you having the baby naturally or did you schedule a C-Section or what?” is by far the strangest thing I’ve ever heard while pregnant. And I’ve had a barefoot stranger woman come grasp my tummy with both hands and insist that he would be a beautiful boy. That was strange. But not as strange as your desire to know my intended method of birth. Perhaps your mother didn’t explain all the basics to you, son, or perhaps you just read Us Weekly too often and think knowing the way a baby comes out is ordinary conversation. Well, my naïve acquaintance, prepare yourself for the full answer to my response, “Natural.” I choose natural childbirth, which is the common term for not having medicine during labor, because I think it is the healthiest option for myself and my son. Also, I value my strong aversion to most drugs and desire to solve most ailments by drinking water and eating better and sleeping more, and I choose not to compromise those values especially while pregnant. But I believe what you were actually asking me was whether or not I was going to have a major surgery. No, I am not going to have a C-Section; in fact I am going to have the baby come headfirst out of my vagina. I was really really kicking myself for not telling you that. (Not literally kicking myself, since of course I can barely lift my swollen feet off the ground, but figuratively there was a lot of kicking going on.)

I am sure that you will understand these things better when you are married someday and your wife is pregnant, but until then you really don’t need to treat pregnant women as freaks. Just make the same casual conversation with them as you would with anyone else: “Hot day, huh?” “Having fun?” “Best water at the fair here.” Okay, bud? Glad we got that clear, and thanks for hearing me out.

Sincerely,
the 9 months-pregnant woman who just wanted a stinking paper cup of water

New size comparisons for pregnant mamas

I’ve noticed that the method for comparing the baby growing inside you to a common outside object (usually produce) is quite outdated. I mean, honestly how many of us have ever held a Chinese cabbage, and can you really compare a large jicama to a 17-inch long, 3.75 pound human being? No. So I’m offering some suggestions for how to really compare that baby in your body to something external. My original source is from BabyCenter’s information, although most other websites and books have similar food weight/size comparisons. Ridiculous. Starting at 4 weeks (2 weeks from implantation), here are my non-food or more-likely-to-recognize-food comparisons. Mine lean more toward the length side, although I tried to find shape and weight comparisons when available for those sizes.

4 weeks: old comparison – poppy seed; new suggestion – gnat
5 weeks: old comparison – sesame seed; new suggestion – clump of mascara
6 weeks: old comparison – lentil bean; new suggestion – pencil eraser
7 weeks: old comparison – blueberry; new suggestion – Tylenol
8 weeks: old comparison – kidney bean; new suggestion – bumble bee
9 weeks: old comparison – grape; new suggestion – Micro Machines car
10 weeks: old comparison – kumquat; new suggestion – house key
11 weeks: old comparison – fig; new suggestion – contact lens case
12 weeks: old comparison – lime; new suggestion – Hot Wheels car
13 weeks: old comparison – medium shrimp; new suggestion – salt shaker
14 weeks: old comparison – lemon; new suggestion – wadded-up paper towel
15 weeks: old comparison – apple; new suggestion – doorknob
16 weeks: old comparison – avocado; new suggestion – 8 g.b. iPod
17 weeks: old comparison – turnip; new suggestion – Slinky
18 weeks: old comparison – bell pepper; new suggestion – pop-up hairbrush/mirror combo, opened
19 weeks: old comparison – heirloom tomato; new suggestion – soda can
20 weeks: old comparison – banana; new suggestion – TV remote
21 weeks: old comparison – carrot; new suggestion – stapler
22 weeks: old comparison – spaghetti squash; new suggestion – commuter mug
23 weeks: old comparison – large mango; new suggestion – Barbie doll
24 weeks: old comparison – ear of corn; new suggestion – engineering ruler
25 weeks: old comparison – average rutabaga; new suggestion – men’s work boot
26 weeks: old comparison – English hothouse cucumber; new suggestion – half-gallon of milk
27 weeks: old comparison – head of cauliflower; new suggestion – inflated water-wing
28 weeks: old comparison – Chinese cabbage; new suggestion – skein of yarn
29 weeks: old comparison – butternut squash; new suggestion – Zack Morris cell phone, including antenna
30 weeks: old comparison – head of cabbage; new suggestion – mini baseball bat souvenir
31 weeks: old comparison – 4 navel oranges; new suggestion – small pipe wrench
32 weeks: old comparison – large jicama; new suggestion – stuffed animal large fair prize
33 weeks: old comparison – half a pineapple; new suggestion – backpack
34 weeks: old comparison – average cantaloupe; new suggestion – Jenga tower just before crashing
35 weeks: old comparison – honeydew melon; new suggestion – lava lamp
36 weeks: old comparison – Crenshaw melon; new suggestion – car muffler
37 weeks: old comparison – stalk of Swiss chard; new suggestion – foldable umbrella, extended but not opened
38 weeks: old comparison – leek; new suggestion – small potted poinsettia
39 weeks: old comparison – mini watermelon; new suggestion – piñata
40 weeks: old comparison – small pumpkin; new suggestion – toy baby doll

weird hips and legs and lower back when pregnant

So how come whenever I'm pregnant one of my legs grows an inch longer than the other? And if it hasn't, then you explain to me why I'm walking around like Cowboy Barbie whose hips were pulled out of their sockets by some cruel little girl and they're just hanging by that elastic between them. Seriously, I don't have the pregnant waddle, I have the awkward bow-legged one year-old baby mosey/swagger. Ridiculous. Here are all my pregnancy woes (I won't even begin to whine about my stretch marks):
* I'm itchy
* my lower back aches if I sit/lie down in practically any position for longer than 2 minutes
* my tummy is humongous, but my bottom is not, so I look extremely lopsided and I show my butt crack a lot
* I don't have to pee too much more, but when I have to go I need to go instantly or else I swear I'll wet my pants
* my hips ache when I sleep on one side for too long (of course I'm normally a tummy sleeper and that's pretty out of the question)
* I'm a lot flightier than usual and I forget and lose things almost as much as my husband!
* my baby weighs just under 5 pounds, yet I have gained over 25
* I'm getting this gross acid reflux thingie in the middle of the night where I have to get off my achy side, pull up my sagging jammy pants, and waddle downstairs to get some Tums
Aside from those remarkably easy to live with, yet still annoying problems, this has been a superb pregnancy. Frankie is a wild kicking gymnast and I'm convinced he's going to be one of the two best looking kids in the history of the world. #1 being me, of course.

My hitchhikers

In total I have picked up 9 hitchhikers. Some were interesting; others were not. I have never picked up anyone that I felt unsafe around and I have never had a problem.

I picked up my first hitchhiker when I was 17 or 18. I was driving late at night down by Stadium and this 40-something dolled-up lady just started flagging me down all manic-like, so I stopped and let her in. Remember in the Stones song "Honky Tonk Women" when he calls the woman a gin-soaked barroom queen? Well that's what this lady smelled like, but she must have known it because she took a bath in Obsession or something right before she left her pub and, oy, her scent was overwhelming. She explained that her car broke down, she needed a ride to Knapp's, she would have walked except two guys had been on the street right behind her (when she got into her frenzy as I drove by), and upon finding out that I went to the same high school as a few kids she knew she proceeded to tell me that she was a church administrator and God bless me. I guess even Christians get drunk sometimes, huh?
My next one was soon after and he wasn't really hitching. I was driving over the spider web bridge very unusally because I had some kind of appointment and was a couple hours late for school. I saw a car broken down on the side, and then about a quarter mile up I saw a very fat man waddle-running as fast as he could. When I picked him up he was so glad and gracious - it turned out he was a lawyer on his way to court and was almost late. He gave me his card and asked me to call him if I was ever in a bind, but I'm pretty sure I'd pay the extra money for someone a bit more reliable.
My third wasn't asking for a ride either, but she was boring. She was some punk kid walking so unsafely along Highway 16 over the Nalley Valley at like midnight on her way to her boyfriend's to probably do drugs and fight. She made no small talk and never said thanks, so I punished her by playing Oldies the whole way there.
Then in college I was driving my mom's Mustang convertible on a perfect day because my car was in the shop. I had just finished a boat ride on Lake Washington with a rich friend (this was the same day I discovered that Citizens jeans are the greatest ever - apparently rich friends have more rich friends) and this guy and girl were hitching a ride to Portland. They kept saying this was by far the best car to be picked up in and we all talked the whole way there (it was I-5 on a Friday afternoon, so traffic was slow enough that we could hear each other in a convertible on the freeway). I even exchanged e-mails with the guy for awhile, but after hearing about his Burning Man adventures a couple times, I figured we probably didn't have enough in common to become best friends.
The sixth person I gave a ride to was some crazy hippie guy whose car ran out of gas when he went up a hill even though he knew he had enough to make it to the station. Justin and Mish were in the car too, and the guy told us how he had a few albums out from the '70s and he used to tour with different bands and how if the f-ing hill wasn't there then he wouldn't have had to f-ing bother us. He was a blast to transport.
Then after I got pregnant and was driving from a prenatal visit I picked up a guy and his girlfriend and took them to a bar. She explained that she had just wanted to take the bus, but he explained they'd get there much faster by hitchhiking. I never knew it was such a convenience for some people! Then after some chit-chatting he let me know that while her other kid was at home (with God knows who), she was also pregnant. I made sure to remind her not to drink. Sigh. Some people are still so ignorant about drinking while pregnant. Let me take this moment to tell you all: Fetal Alcohol Syndrome is proven. You do not have to get drunk for your child to get it. You do not have to drink every day for your child to get it. You could have one drink one time during pregnancy and your child could be learning-delayed or brain-damaged for the rest of his life. Be responsible. And don't give me crud about it being your body so you can do what you want. It's not your body I care about - it's your baby's. Thank you.
Finally a couple months ago Justin and I picked up some Mexican guy who must have been tripping hard because he had no idea what was going on. All he told Justin was that he needed to get to Bellingham. We dropped him off in a safer place just a few miles up since he was actually walking along the non-shoulder 2-foot section of the freeway, but he wandered off like aliens had erased his memories or something. And you know what? Justin saw him the next morning still standing in the same area. Weird.

I've never hitchhiked and I probably never will, but I really don't think it's so bad. I've also never seen any of those scary hitchhiking movies, though.

Gee Whillikers! I love kids.

So this happened a year and a half ago, but I had just relayed my little anecdote to a coworker and thought I'd share it here. When I was pregnant my tummy got huge. My little niece had just turned 5 and was staring at my giant belly. Her dog was pregnant at the time also, so she was very curious about my situation. Here's how our conversation went:

Zanae: "Cole, your tummy is fat."
me: "Well, that's because I'm pregnant and there's a baby in there."
Zanae: "Okay...how much babies you got in there?"
me: "Just one."
Zanae: "Oh."
(long, thoughtful pause on Zanae's part while she stares at my fat tummy, contemplating whether or not she honestly believes that there is just one thing in there)
Zanae: "You got any puppies in there too?"
me: "No, just the one human baby."

Don't you so wish you could just ask any question you wanted to every time one came to mind? Or stare when you think something looks strange on someone? I so envy children.