Thursday, December 11, 2008

Swear Bees and Other Odds of Ends

I have some good news!

James fixed the van so I was gone all day.

Well that was good news, but not the good news. I was at the OB's office. Waiting for TWO HOURS before he showed up. He's a great doctor, but I get sick of waiting for him. If I wasn't high risk I would choose someone who was faster. Thank goodness for my sister who watched the kids at her house. They would have destroyed the office by the first hour, or at the least imploded my brain with super-sonic whining. I spent a total of four hours there. Blech.

Sorry, that wasn't the good news

Today was my yucky first OB appointment where you get to model a fashionable hospital gown that closes (or almost) in front. I don't need to explain further. I still feel violated.

That wasn't the good news either.

It's this: They did an ultrasound and there's a heartbeat! So for now, everything is looking ok and I'm finally allowing myself to get excited about this baby.

While I was waiting to see the doctor, I talked to people. It's neat when you're in a waiting room with expectant mothers. Some glance around furtively and when you catch their eye, whip their heads away so fast they need a neck brace. Others will not only tell you anything you're curious about, but everything you don't want to know as well.

Thankfully, I had interesting people to talk to. One poor girl was there with her three-year-old son, who was going nuts. Other people and I kept reassuring her that we understood, because she looked both helpless and embarrassed. She was there to see if she could have another child. I think she has three. Or maybe she was there seeing what her options were for not having more. She was trying to talk to me when I was being distracted with the receptionist wanting me to fill out paperwork. Watching the girl with her son was making me try to remember why I'm doing this again.

Another girl I met lives with her parents during the week because her husband works out of town. Her mom came there with her, as she's on bedrest and having twins. Someone was actually at her house at that moment, an art teacher, getting the nursery ready for her. Wow. I was just thankful that no one was home at my house, destroying it any further.

Not long after she went in I finally got into my appointment, and the only thing I had written down for allergies were "sweat bees". If you don't know what a sweat bee is, they're these little tiny black and yellow bees. They look like baby bees. In some areas of the country they're kind of metallic-looking. Anyway, the nurse misread and stated that I was allergic to "swear bees". We both got a laugh out of that. "Well, I am," I insisted.

Then, when I was waiting for my ultrasound, this other gal and her husband came and sat next to me. She had just found out she was pregnant. She has a 19 year old son and a 7 year old girl. I think she had her tubes tied, anyway this one was a huge surprise. We have the same doctor. It was nearing 2:00 by this time and I told her I had been there since 11:30. I think at some time in her life she must have been a sailor because she was rather colorful. Her reaction was (and sorry for typing this, but...) "F*** THAT!"

I was slightly shocked, so I hastily replied "No, not really." I paused. "But this is the end result."

She lost it, laughing so loudly that I think her husband was embarrassed. What else could I do? It used to be that I would just recoil inwardly when someone swore horribly in casual conversation, but my inner rebel has started saying things of its own accord. Maybe I should have told her I was allergic to swear bees. I really liked her personality, swearing and all. When I came out of the ultrasound she was still there, and looking for my reaction. I gave her a thumbs-up and she just beamed and yelled across the crowded waiting room, "Good luck!"

Of course, my kids were excited to see the ultrasound pictures when I got to Karen's house. It must have been a little disappointing. ("Look! You have a smudge for a brother or sister!") Maybe a tiny tadpole, but I won't say that because frogs freak me out. It looks like nothing, really. It's the size of a blueberry though, so that's to be expected. It's good that I looked up about how big it is, because the clinician wouldn't give me a good idea. All she would say was how many millimeters or centimeters. She gave in a little and put it in inches (less than 1/2 inch). She said, "I don't do objects. No oranges, no olives. One person's orange might be bigger than another's."

"What about kiwi fruit?" I surmised. "Those are pretty uniform."

"No kiwis either".

"So it's just...go home and get a ruler."

"Exactly."

Tonight I gave Princess a bath and asked her what she thought the baby's name should be. Of course, she thinks it's a girl.

"Princess Isabella?" I asked. (Not seriously, not with Bella fanaticism raging rampantly across the nation.)

She loved it. I threw out another random name.

"How about Rachel?"

First she shook her head no, then she looked up at me and said "Deuce".

"Deuce?"

"Yes."

"What if it's a boy?"

She pondered this for a moment. "Kid Boy."

She's original. Maybe she's like Professor. When I was expecting Princess, we were riding in the van one day. He was four. Out of the blue, he said "We should name it Hebrews. Or the letter 'E'."

Her nickname before we found out she was a girl was Hebrews. Maybe this one should be Ephesians. I like Colossians, but it reminds me of colons. Not pleasant when you're thinking of a new baby.

Speaking of colons, I have to leave this new tidbit for you. Or more specifically, for Nancy Face. I think she'll appreciate it.

I was snuggled up in my bed tonight, reading. Suddenly the wails of Princess filled the air.

I tried to ignore them, hoping she had just temporarily misplaced one of the three stuffed doggies or two baby dolls she sleeps with.

It didn't stop.

I got up and opened her door. She was standing up on her bed in her favorite pink nightgown with big white polka dots. "What's the matter?"

"I pooped in my undaweah."

"You pooped? No honey, you barfed." For that's what it looked like. Alas, I was wrong. As I studied her, I realized how horribly wrong I had been. Although, does it really matter which one it was? Icky, icky, ew, ew, ew.

I carried her to the bathtub, my arms extended as far out as I could without dropping her. I'll spare you the details because I would love for you to come back to my blog again. Let's just say that I was having a difficult time breathing. I love bathtubs, and running water, and a plunger that works in the bathtub as well as it does in the toilet.

My knight in shining armor came to the rescue when it came to changing her bed. Even glancing in her room almost became my undoing. "Stay away," he told me firmly. "Don't even look at it." This from a man who gags at the slightest smell of wretchedness. He can't even change an infant's poopy diapers until they eat only solid food. (Hey, that's fine with me! He can have all those!) He didn't want me to get sick, because I had taken insulin and had just eaten a snack. Insulin+ an empty stomach= bad.

So he took a mask, a doctor's type mask, and sprayed some cologne on it before welding it to his face. He then proceeded to change the bedding and put everything in the washing machine.

How I love that man.

And that, my friends, is another day in the life of me.

18 comments:

Amy Lee said...

Wow Sis you did have a long day! Love you all and am so happy to hear the good news!

Love,
Amy

Lauren said...

HAHAHAH! my mom WOULD appreciate that little tidbit.

I can't believe you had to wait THAT long. I hope you had a book with you.

I looooove Supermassive Black Hole! I just downloaded it as a ringtone!

An Ordinary Mom said...

Congrats on hearing a heartbeat! Those first appointments are always so rough, at least they are for me. I always worry, is everything going to be OK?! I suppose that is what happens to someone when they have numerous miscarriages and have high risk pregnancies.

I hope this pregnancy continues to go smoothly. I am sure I will be back to check in with you :) !!

Jeni said...

I'm glad you got good news at the doc's! Loved the bit about your new friend, the sailor. As far as baby names go, tell Princess that she "dropped a deuce" in her bed last night. That should cure any further discussion on that name. The phrases you learn when you have 5 brothers and a former college roommate who has 100+ different names for said bodily function...

Bee Repartee said...

Congratulations on the new one on the way. Although waiting that long in the Dr.s office. YIKES.

It never surprises me when the shoe is on the other foot for the Drs office, when they complain and make you reschedule when you are 15 min late.

I love this background, by the way. Loverly...loverly...

Karen said...

I thought that was completely disgusting when you told me, but you blogged about it so wonderfully, it was funny. Do you really talk to your doctor like that too? I just say as little as possible so they leave the room as fast as possible! Well, I did with Drake anyway. She's kinda scary!

mindyluwho said...

Oh my goodness, that was just one day?!? You poor thing! And I can't believe that you had to wait that long in the waiting room.

I'm so glad I am out of the poopy pants stage. When my kids were potty training and pooped in their undies...I just threw them away. I couldn't stand to wash them out. Probably because I grew up the 2nd oldest of 9 kids. I changed my share of diapers, and they weren't disposable either!

Thanks for checking up on me. I'm so glad to see you blogging more! I've just been busy finishing up a class with my kids. But it's over now and I can relax and little and hopefully do a little blogging myslef!

mindyluwho said...

"mysELf". Pardon my spelling!

Aubrey said...

Why do these things always happen at night? In their beds?? When you are trying to relax or sleep???

Oh, I have been there. Not a fun place to be.

(I came over from the healthy habits blog. Love your blog!)

Aubrey said...

Oh, and congrats on the new little one coming. That's exciting for you!

Kimberly said...

What a day!

That woman at the OB's office sounds like a real hoot. I've really come to enjoy people who just are who they are, no apologies, sometimes swearing and all.

So thrilled there's a heartbeat! And Princess just cracked me up. What a yucky mess though - that James is a treasure, I tell you!

Nancy Face said...

I see my name! :)

THAT type of poop story brings back some very unpleasant memories! :0

Nancy Face said...

I absolutely hate it when people use offensive language in a public place where I have to hear it. I always want to tell them so, but somehow I keep my big mouth shut!

Michal said...

i'm so relieved about the baby. what a crazy day you have had, my friend. i'm so sorry about the barf that wasn't. ugh.

Annie said...

My ADD caused me to zone out a little as I read. Honestly not an indicator of your story telling skills, just an indicator of my lack of focus, I was brought back in though when I read, " I pooped my undaweah."

Nothing like a good poop story to get me back on track.

Heidi Ashworth said...

This sounds like a day at my house--loved this post! You are a hoot! By the way, I just thought you might like to know that you are posted at Bloggers Annex today! Yay you!

Trying to Stay Calm! said...

Stopping by to say I hope you have a blessed and very Merry Christmas! ♥ Hugs :) Shauna

Abra said...

Absolutely hilarious!
I dread those in the middle of the nights "Mo-om" they're never good. NEVER!