Blog It Out, Bitch

by Perez, Nina

  Kali asks, "What's a q-tip?"

  "The things I use to clean your ears."

  "What's a bum?"

  "Never you mind."

  The nurse returns and places a sterile package on the counter and leaves again.

  "Kali, hand that to Mommy."

  It's the longest q-tip I've ever seen. I start to feel queasy.

  Kali is still really sleepy. She stays up late and we had to wake her up early for the appointment. "Why did I have to come?" she whines.

  "What else were we going to do with you?"

  "Well, I could have stayed home with Daddy and you could drive yourself."

  I look at Donny, "Did you want to stay home too?"

  "No, someone needs to be here to make sure you're honest."

  "Shut up."

  So, the doctor walks in (she's the same one from our very first visit. The pretty, young, black, woman who said that it's possible for me to gain only 20lbs during the pregnancy because that's what her little pixie ass did) and we tell her about the contractions. She decides to check my cervix while she's down there doing the q-tip thing. She explains they'll be taking a swab from both my vagina and my anus.

  "Lovely."

  She laughs. I didn't find a damn thing funny. That was like an hour ago and my ass still hurts. She checks my cervix and it's not even dilated a full centimeter. She could get a fingertip in there, but it was softening hence all the mucus discharge. Isn't childbirth fun?! She said his head is really low and that would explain all my trouble walking and pelvic pain. He's already dropped into birthing position. Yah!

  I tell her that whenever I do a lot in one day that by the evening I'm usually all swollen hands and feet. She said that was due to all the excess pressure on my blood vessels and that when that happens I should spend the next day in bed with my feet propped up and avoid salty foods.

  "That means no french fries." That from Kali a.k.a. Big Mouth.

  "Does Mommy eat a lot of french fries?” asks Dr. F.

  Kali just giggles.

  I look at both Kali and Donny and say, "Yeah, you're both staying home next time." Dr. F. laughs and says I'm funny.

  We're now at the stage where our visits are once a week. I'm officially 34 weeks and 5 days. Just four weeks and 2 days to go! Woohoo!

  We were going to go shopping today for the wood blinds and ceiling fan for the nursery, but my asshole hurts and I don't feel like walking.

  Full Circle

  July 21, 2008

  First trimester: We'd just gotten a new flat screen TV and were playing lots of Halo 3 with Lacey and Brett. I was sick all the time. Miserable and uncomfortable. I felt no connection to my unborn baby because I didn't feel pregnant, I felt sick. I felt like I was going to die.

  Now, 19 days till my due date: We just got a new flat screen TV and we're playing lots of Halo 3 with Lacey and Brett. I'm sick all the time. I'm miserable and uncomfortable. I feel connected to Jack, but I catch myself saying, in tears, "He needs to come out. I can't do this anymore!" Not exactly the same song I was singing say, a month ago when it was all, "I can't wait to meet my baby." I feel like I'm going to die.

  I tell you the good, you know that. But I'll also tell you the bad. The ugly. And trust me folks, it's very ugly.

  I am MISERABLE. And I don't know that I can last another 19 days. I really don't. If I'm not around it's because I don't feel like being bothered for the most part. I'm cranky and sad and depressed and a mess.

  Let's start from head to toe:

  I'm so depressed that I can't even be bothered to care that I need to dye the gray out of my hair before Jack meets me and thinks I'm his grandmother. I will say that my hair has never been healthier, but I still feel like a spinster when I look in the mirror.

  The acne on my face, neck and upper arms is driving me crazy! Donny reminds me that it's all hormones, the same thing happened when I was pregnant with Kali, and that it will go away, but it sure doesn't feel like it. I hate not recognizing myself in the mirror.

  The hair growth is out of control! I'm constantly shaving all kinds of places. My boobs are ginormous, which... is kinda nice. But still. They ache because they too are desperate to get this show on the road. Donny tells Jack, "Boy, you got some good stuff waiting for you!"

  My stomach is huge. Not as huge as most other pregnant women I see, but big enough. I can't lie back without feeling like I'm going to choke on the acid reflux or suffocate because of everything pressing against my lungs. When I lie on either side I feel Jack and all the fluid flow to that side putting pressure there and then I have to sit up again. When it's time to stand it takes an effort... and an army. Walking is torture. You guys should have seen me on Friday at the movie theatre. I know people were like, "She needs to go home because that looks painful." And it is!

  My knees hurt. My back hurts. My pelvic bone hurts. I need to go into labor.

  And mentally? I'm a mess. I have a high tolerance for pain. I did over 24 hours of labor with Kali and no drugs. No sweat. I can handle getting a tattoo and already have my second one planned. But I can't stand being uncomfortable. With most serious pain, you know there's an end. Like labor. I know that it can't last forever. But this all day uncomfortable feeling drives me crazy.

  Sometimes I just cry. For no particular reason I'll just break down and cry and Donny will just sit with me, rubbing me and telling me that I'm doing great and that we're almost there. Problem is: It doesn't feel like it! It's hard to remember this is leading to a joyous event when you're so miserable. And it pisses me off when people say, "Well, Nina, you want him to be healthy so the closer you get to 40 weeks the better."

  I'm his fucking mother! Of course I want him to be healthy and I've never once wished to go into labor at his expense. It's a given that I want him to be perfectly healthy when he's born, but it's also okay for me, the one in pain and going through it, to say, "OK, I've 'bout had enough. This shit is hard." I'm allowed!

  The other night Donny and I were playing Halo 3 with Lacey, Brett, and Brett's best friend Gabe. I thought I was going to go into labor from laughing so hard. We hadn't had that much fun in forever. Anyway, in between rounds I went to pee and sat my controller and headset on the couch. When I got back, I went to lower myself onto the couch and let out the usual battle moan before doing anything strenuous. They could hear me through my and Donny's headset. Brett says to Donny, "Please tell me that wasn't the sound of her getting off the couch?"

  "No, motherfucker! That's what I sound like getting ON the couch!"

  It's so sad.

  I blew off my doctor's appointment Thursday. I woke up not feeling well and not wanting to go in there just to pee in a cup and have them tell me, "OK, everything's fine. See you next week." Fuck that. So, I called to push it back to later in the afternoon hoping my spirits would rise by then. Well, Donny called. And they said, "We can see you at 1:30pm, but there may be a wait."

  Bitch, there's ALWAYS a wait! Why do they do that? Schedule four women for 10:30am? It pisses me off every time I sign in a few minutes early to see other women who've arrived a little before me all checking off that they're there to see the same doctor. There are like seven damn doctors at that practice! So, we rescheduled for today at 3pm. And I don't feel like going 'cause I'm cranky. And I'm getting a cold. And I'm tired of these big girl panties. And I don't feel like wasting my time on them telling me to go home and wait some more. No shit, assholes. How 'bout you check down there and maybe jump start some action, huh?

  And I'm tired of looking at all my baby's nice stuff and feeling like he's never going to get here. And I just really, really, really, need to go into labor before I kill someone. Seriously.

  Find a Place of Peace

  July 23, 2008

  That's what the doctor advised me to do yesterday. Find a place of peace.

  I went in yesterday because I woke up and couldn't move. The pain in the right side of my back was so severe I thought we'd have to call an ambulance. Donny called Beve
rly who suggested that he wet a rag, microwave it, and then place it on my back. We did. That helped enough for me to go upstairs and take up her second suggestion of soaking in a hot tub. That helped enough for me to move without screaming and make my way into the office so they could make sure I wasn't in labor. I knew I wasn't. But again, I was hoping for the best.

  I saw Dr. F, the pretty, young, black, petite one. She pretty much told me that the pain in my pelvis and back was due to the fact that my husband implanted his ginormous German seed in me and now I'm going to have a mini-linebacker emerge from my vagina any day now. Swell. She felt around and measured and sure enough she thinks he's about 7lbs and will probably be high 7's or 8lbs at birth.

  Then she asked, "Now, as for the mental stuff. What can I do for you?"

  And I freaking lost it. I was a crying fool. I told her that I knew the cosmetic stuff was temporary, but it didn't help deal with the other stuff. She assured me I'd be my usual beautiful self soon. Her words, not mine. Then I told her about feeling so miserable and hating it because I should be happy and excited. I worry that the feeling won't go away once he gets here. She assures me it will. She doesn't want to prescribe anything because "it doesn't sound like you're suicidal."

  "No, I'm not suicidal. Just miserable."

  Then she suggested that I go get my hair and nails done. "Get a pedicure to lift your spirits."

  Doctors would stop delivering advice like that while sitting on those stools with wheels - so close to your feet as you're sitting up high - if she knew how close I was to kicking her in the face.

  Warm Gushes and Nipple Stimulation

  July 29, 2008

  Oh, what a day!

  After a bad night of pain and discomfort, Donny called the doctor's office at 9am to see if I could get my 2:15pm appointment today bumped up. They told us to come in right then and there. I jumped in the shower, and by jumped I mean waddled, and we were off.

  After the usual check-in stuff (where I finally remembered to write my name on the urine cup BEFORE pissing in it) we were shown to a room to wait for Dr. G. I've written about him before. Of all the doctors at my practice, he's my fave; this old white dude that looks like he used to be on The Sopranos. I put my panties in my purse, covered my lower half with the sheet and hiked up my dress to get ready for my least favorite part of the pregnancy exam.

  Before we left the house I told Donny, "I love Dr. G., but I'm not sure I want him sticking his fingers up my coochie. I mean, he's this old white man."

  "Well, if it makes you feel any better I'll be an old white man one day sticking my fingers up your coochie."

  No. Somehow that didn't make me feel better.

  When he comes in, I tell him how every day just gets harder and how much pain I'm in. He notes that the previous week I didn't get a vaginal exam and he shakes his head in disapproval. "How did they know you were fine if they didn't check?" I ask him to please induce me before I kill myself. "Well, let's see what's going on first... maybe."

  The nurse comes in and asks me to scoot down and put my feet in the stirrups. I think Kali might have been in the room once before while I've had a pelvic (yeah, she was there for the infamous anal swabbing) so she kinda knew what to expect and in anticipation she came to the head of the table to hold my hand. I thought it was the sweetest thing. The nurse holds my other hand and then it felt like Dr. G. went in elbow deep.

  Oh. My. Fuck. It hurt.

  After a few moments I realize I'm squeezing the shit out of the nurse's hand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

  "It's okay. Squeeze as hard as you want. But breathe."

  It's then that I realize that I'm all tense and holding my breath. I try to relax "down there" as well take a few deep cleansing breaths.

  When he's done, Dr. G. says that my cervix is posterior which means it's really far back and it needs to drop down more. He said that it's completely soft and I'm dilated two centimeters. If he sent me to the hospital today for an induction, I'd probably be there for days and I run the risk of having to have a c-section if it doesn't come down during that time.

  He said what I needed was more contractions to help move it along and also get more dilation going. Donny asked about the walking I'd been advised to do. He explained that walking doesn't start contractions and that any pregnant woman that went for a walk and then got contractions experienced a coincidence; however, once contractions start, walking does help them get stronger and more frequent. In my situation where walking is painful, walking without having any contractions wouldn't be doing myself any favors.

  "Are you going to breastfeed?" he asked inadvertently glancing at my huge ta-tas.

  I told him I am and he suggested nipple stimulation. That he said will definitely bring on contractions. He said I should go home and pump each breast three minutes at a time for like 12 minutes every 2-3 hours.

  "Will anything come out?'

  "Probably not."

  I wanted to hear a resounding NO. I'm a huge breastfeeding advocate. I love it. I'm looking forward to it. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever done and I'm completely in awe of my body's ability to nourish the child it created. I even get a little judgmental in my head when I hear a woman say she doesn't want to breastfeed. But even with all that, I still feel kinda... icky... at the possibility of seeing something come out before Jack gets here. Also, it's been nine years.

  I asked him what his policy was in regards to recording the birth and he shrugged and said, "I don't care. I know what I'm doing. In fact, I like to explain everything that's happening as it's happening so you know what's going on." Which just proved to me that the only reason a doctor would have a problem with it is if they fuck up and don't want video evidence in the malpractice suit. So now I'm praying that Dr. G. is on call when I go into labor, but I'm also going to see if they'll let me request him.

  We make an appointment for next Tuesday, which should be my last one, with the one doctor left I've yet to see. For some reason or another I always end up rescheduling my appointments with him. And if I have my way, I won't be meeting his ass next week either cause Jack will be here by then. When we leave, Donny has to bring the car around because I can barely walk. I'm cramping and aching and I feel like my uterus is going to come out of my belly button.

  For some reason, on doctor visit days we go to Chic-Fil-A afterwards. Our CFA restores our hope in humanity. The other fast food places always fuck up, but not CFA. Not only do they always get the order right, they're friendly as shit. Today, the girl actually asked us if we wanted a drink tray. Take that ghetto ass Burger King. Donny and I discuss this as we wait for our food. Another observation I'd made before that Donny echoed today while we waited, "And it seems they only hire young, white, blonde girls."

  "I know, right?"

  Just then who should stroll from the back but a young black girl? We damn near clapped. Yah for black people! We had the same reaction when we found out during the construction of our home that our next door neighbors were a black, male, gay, couple. As an interracial couple in the south we like to see diversity. It gives us hope for the tolerance level in our area and diminishes the chances that one day we'd find ourselves back-to-back, Mr. and Mrs. Smith-style, having to beat some ass.

  After we eat, I call my Dad. While I'm chatting with him I feel this tiny, warm, gushing feeling in my panties. "Daddy, I gotta call you back." Donny helps me to the bathroom and on the way I explain what happened.

  "Are you wearing panties?"

  "Yes, I'm wearing panties!"

  Of course, Kali has to follow. There are no secrets in my house anymore. While Donny runs to get me new panties Kali stands and watches fascinated. "Did you pee on yourself?"

  "I hope not," I respond grabbing a couple of baby wipes from the back of the toilet.

  Once Donny hands me the new pair of underwear I ask him to run out to the car and get a sanitary napkin from the suitcase we packed for the hospital. I can get one foot in the new panties while still sitting
but I need Kali to hold open the leg of the other side. She scrunches up her face like I asked her to smell a fart.

  "Girl, I've wiped your dirty little ass more times than I can count."

  "Are these panties clean?" she asks tentatively, holding them with the tips of as few fingers needed to get the job done.

  "Yes!"

  "I mean, but, you've worn them before, right?"

  "Yes! And they've been cleaned after each time."

  What the hell does she think I am? Donny returns with the pad and Kali asks, "What's that?" I know I've kinda explained a period before as she's had to run and get a tampon for me in the past. I explain again that one day she will be getting a period and that the pads are used to absorb the blood. As I talk, I'm un-wrapping the pad and explaining how it's used.

  She seemed to take the information well and only displayed a little surprise when I told her that she could be getting it any year now. She thought it was something you had to get when you went to college. Hahaha! She asked if it hurt and I told her that the first day or so of each month that she gets it, she may feel as if she has to take a big poop and her tummy will hurt. She didn't really like the sound of that.

  As I'm pulling up my panties she remarks, "That looks like a diaper." Then proceeds to sing and skip, "Mommy's wearing a diaper. Mommy's wearing a diaper," all the way back to the family room.

  Donny and I break out the $300 electric breast pump. I'm ready to get this damn show on the road, but I'm also a little frightened. I've never used an electric pump before. I had a small manual with Kali. We decide it would be more efficient to do both breasts at once. I place the suctions over each boob and Donny flips the switch. I felt like a cow. Seriously. It didn't hurt really, but it wasn't the most pleasant feeling either. At least I'm getting prepared though. At exactly three minutes the suction went from quick pumps to long drawn out pulls that actually hurt.