January 10, 2009
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‘Fo Real, Yo.
Shaun and I don’t like to celebrate our wedding anniversary, since that was just this big party we threw. We discovered that we fit together in some fuzzy space before that. We became life partners sometime between our first date and five minutes ago. But we like to celebrate things, so we decided to celebrate our first date day instead.
Eleven years ago yesterday, Shaun and I went to see Jackie Brown at the Waterford Cinema 11. We went to Big Boy after and split a brownie sunday. After, he came to my house to watch The RuPaul Show. We kissed as my favorite drag queen paraded onscreen in her finest gowns. When we came up for air, we both glanced at the screen and laughed. Magic.
Yesterday, we celebrated by going to an Ethiopian Restaurant for dinner. We ordered lamb stews, cabbages, greens, and lentils to pick up with sponge-y bread. We talked about what we remembered most from January 9, 1998. He remembers standing in line for the movie with me, thinking I gorgeous. I remember riding in the car with him, laughing and inventing a silly musical (we pitched it as “Death of a Salesman meets Tarzan”). We both remember thinking how easy it was to be with one another, how fun it was, how funny. Still is.
January 9th, 2009 we spent at the doctor’s office. A giant dildo with an ulta-sound camera took pictures of a weird little grain that lives inside of me. The grain flickers onscreen, it’s heartbeat present throughout it’s whole structure. We listened to it, a little noise underwater, a million miles away. I am 6.5 weeks pregnant.
We’re excited. We’re nervous. Like everything we do, we’ve started in on this without enough resources. But that’s never stopped us from making things work before. We’ve had plenty of adventures on a shoestring. I’d like to think we’re sort of experts at the unpredictable now. We roll with it, laugh about it, and work hard to make sure it gets better. And it always does, at the very last minute. Things are just a bit more stressful now because more is at stake. We can rescue ourselves just fine; but this little grain will probably grow into a human. At first, that human won’t even be able to hold her neck upright.
I’ve not told anyone with the exception of my bff Bryan. And he guessed. He called the day I took all the Plus Signs tests. He asked if everything was okay, that I sounded weird. I told him I was fine, something slightly horrifying had happened and I’d tell him later. He said: “Oh my God: your brother got his girlfriend pregnant.” I laughed, “No!” “Oh my God: You’re pregnant.” Since then, he sends me a text daily about how excited he is to be Uncle Bryan. Last night, we spoke on the phone and I was relieved that the grain wasn’t the only thing we talked about. We talked about that for about 10 minutes or so and spent the rest of the hour dishing about other things.
The weirdest thing about this for me is that I feel exactly the same. I guess when I see pregnant people out in the world, I think they are all angelic and thinking mushy thoughts 24/7. I assume that pregnant people are preoccupied with thoughts of fetus, care only about nesting and the newest Baby Bjorn. But really, I’m still me. I still care just as much about art, society, fiction, and politics. I still care about movies and if that Joss Whedon series out this fall is going to be any good. I’m still excited to see friends. I still love my job. When we toasted at dinner last night, Shaun and I toasted to The Ninth. I was so relieved I nearly cried. The obvious choice would be to toast to The Grain. But I want the ninth just to be for us. The Grain will get plenty of attention in this life, trust me.
I’m also sort of surprised that I’m not more interested in the science of The Grain. One thing I’ve always gotten a kick out of is research, but I don’t like researching pregnancy. We went into Borders yesterday to check out the pregnancy section and discovered that I HATE pregnancy books. The tone is so revolting. So gooey. So presumptuous. With stupid little “Dad Tips” in the margins that say things like “Vacuum the living room without having to be asked” or “Buy your wife flowers on your way home from work.” WTF?! What is this, 1950 where a dude with a vacuum is some big favor? That is just retarded. Plus, I really don’t want to hear about every freaking bowel movement I’ll take for nine months. What to Expect When You’re Expecting? Expect Hemroids. Pregnancy’s a bitch. Plus, I find that I get totally nauseous when I look at pictures of fetuses at various developmental stages. Seriously. I had to squat down with my head between my legs in the bookstore. Shaun did find a fun book called From The Hips that might be fun to read. He was laughing hysterically over a chart that had the size of the baby at different months. One month, the fetus is the size of a lobster. Another month, a duck. At nine months, it’s the size of a cat. A CAT! I so prefer this to gross pictures of squiggly alien things. To be honest, I didn’t even know if I was going to be okay looking at The Grain on the monitor at the doctor’s office. I still can’t really look at the pictures. There’s a white blob inside a the yolk sack. Beneath it, the tech typed “Baby.” Gives me the willies.
Aside from private-blogging about it and dishing with Bryan, I really don’t want to tell people. What if we get bombarded with horrifying questions?
* Are you going to move to the ‘burbs? (No!)
* Are you going to buy a car? (We’ll probably to a car sharing service for a while).
* Are you going to quit work? (No!)
* Where will it go to school? (How should I know?)
* How are you going to afford everything? (I have no freaking clue.)I guess I’ll have to say something sooner or later. I want to wait until The Grain has been alive for three months. That is the longest it seems you’re allowed to keep things to yourself without getting ragged on for it. I know I have to get over this, but it’s just hard. I don’t want people thinking about me in that stupid way I’ve been thinking about other pregnant people. I don’t want them to freak me out anymore than I’m already freaked. I think I just need a while to get used to things.
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Have you ever made an assumption about a pregnant person?
Comments (6)
Official 6.5 week congratulations and belated happy anniversary!The typical books have a tone that makes me ill too. I used to stock them when working the relationship section at Waldens.After working with bunches of pregnant women and seeing a load of pregnant teenagers the only thing I have been able to assume without being proved wrong is the crank factor. Eventually and reasonably at some point pregnant women are the crankiest people on earth. They aren’t outwardly or aggressively bitchy (unless they are so normally anyway), but at certain times in the process they have little patience and say so. As if the social polite filter has been turned off. This isn’t off putting though. It is more hilarious than anything and since it usually comes when they are obviously (visibly) pregnant, they get a pass for what they say. I love that part and it is fair too. They often say things that I am just thinking like: “If you are going to fart could you at least go to a corner or out of the room? The smell is making me gag.” Or this year waiting for the bathroom one said to the door: “If you are going to be in there forever please say so because I will use the sink out here or just go on the floor.”Really, I think the best time to ask a person life advice is to ask a woman when she is 8 or more months along. They cut to the quick and set your nerves at ease because they have little patience, they get to the bottom line of a problem pdq.That may not be so for everyone but it has been for those I have known.As for the accidental public posting. It will show in readers for a brief time, but since you posted this early on a Saturday morning it might not make it to anyone’s account. When the rss thing updates again it will disappear. Had that happen a few times with friends on other blog platforms. If you make another post and make it public it will cause the rss bots to come again faster. So if you have something little or a pic or something sillyass, putting that on top in a public post might make it disappear faster. But I am not sure with xanga. This has only worked for other blogs that I have read.
@Boowasborn - yikes! I just put a cat pic on. With luck, Giles will thwart everyone. Thanks for the congrats. It seems like such a weird thing to be congratulated on! Like, WOW! I OVULATED! Ha! I think I’m gonnae have to get used to it. That’s the thing they say! I felt the same way about our wedding. I think the English language is so limiting sometimes. There’s just not the right word for, “hey! cool! best of luck! I’m happy for you!” Crabby! Moi? Hahahahaha!
@chicagoartgirl23 - It is a catchall word that’s for sure. But if you won the lottery I would say the same. Oh wait! There is a word to use for it, but only if the event is a happy one and here it is so . . . AWESOME. In every sense, awesome. Lady you tell it like it is normally, soI look forward to reading how it goes for you. This is going to be good!Now I have to see your kitty!
I’ve seen posts suddenly fall off the sub reader when the authors took them offline or protected them, and I see only the adorable kitteh on my unprotected sub reader. So I think your secret is still safe.”The Grain” is adorable, and I think you should research grain related names for the little one. Amaranth perhaps?As to no money – one of the great things about a wee one is it doesn’t take a lot of $ to have a baby around. Except for child care. I’ve seen bread bags used as diaper bags. My hubby and I were not at all plush when our daughter made the scene, and I quit work when she was 18 months old to go back to school. We survived quite handily. There is a mountain of used baby clothing out there, not to mention lightly used equipment. And once they are in the know, your family will make sure you are well equipped.Also: The Grain is going to be a real person just like you. With her own personality. You will be surprised at how early that will manifest, and at how she will be perfectly capable of making up her own mind about the people and events in her life.I remember that holding pattern feeling. I think it lasted for me until my waters broke. Then I realized, “Oh my god. I’m going to be a mother. Today.” I also remember the constipation, and the overall feeling of wellness [and the good sex - all that extra blood in the pelvis can do greeeaaat things for you]. The secret is that we always feel like ourselves no matter what ishappening. Even when you are a mom dealing with lack of sleep and sorenipples, you are going to feel like yourself and care about Josh Whedon.
@scifiknitter - phew! good to hear. All of it.
I know nothing of being pregnant, although I am excited for you. I’m also happy to learn that you hate the pregnancy books. I’ve looked at them before, too and thought things like, “wait, isn’t there often a DAD involved in this?” I don’t like how dads seem to get treated like donors who disappear until it’s time to coach soccer. Can dad vacuum? Good, let him. Dad can also hold the baby he helped to create for a minute or two while mom goes to the bathroom or takes a shower or whatever. In any case, I’m happy for your happiness and your adventure ahead.