holy crap, I'm pregnant! (Entries tagged as advice)

Owwwwwww..................

nospam@example.com (Bobby) — Fri, 02 May 2008 15:24:32 -0600

Moving sucks.

But it’s done.

…..and no Baby.

Yet.

All signs point to soon though…

Must… arrange… house. Must… sleeeep……. HOUSE!!!

Don't try this at home, kids...

nospam@example.com (Bobby) — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 10:17:47 -0600

Seriously — trying to write a blog post in the latter stages of pregnancy is… nuts. Oh I’m sure there is time. Really. But I am so spun about, freaked out, excited, anxious, happy, in awe and otherwise generally wiggin’, that when I get a minute to do something, that minute is occupied by me staring at the TV, or simply staring at the wall, the ceiling, or a book.

Or sleeping.

There has been lots of sleeping lately. I am not usually a nap person — and I am a night person to boot — once I’m up, I’m up. Saturday afternoon, though, I passed out, sitting up, for about 2 and a half hours. And I’m not sick — this time.

Robin has been especially anxious lately as well — but she has more right to it than me.

She is cramping, the baby is pummelling her from the inside (usually her bladder, poor girl), her hips are hurting, moving about can be difficult, and she is generally uncomfortable all the time. Let’s not forget the fact that she is just a teensy bit worried about pushing a 6-10 pound giant out of her body. Imagine sweating out a rock if you need assistance with the concept.

Ow.

So yeah, she’s a bit freaked out right now.

And just to make things… interesting…. we have upped the stakes in this game a bit.

We are moving.

Tomorrow.

Yes, you heard me right. Or read me… whatever.

Why are we moving, you ask? Are we crazy, you ask? Well, the answer the second question is: yes, probably. The first… wellllll, we have two dogs. And we rent. And it is getting harder and harder to find dog-friendly places in this city, so, when we found one, randomly (and by randomly, I mean through Robin’s obsessive trolling of Craigslist), we decided that we should jump on it now, rather than in July like we planned.

I figure the baby will start things off being a punk — and will come on moving day.

Don’t try this at home, kids.

I’m not kidding, we could have this baby any day now. Any time… As a matter of fact, Robin could call me while writing this post and tell me to get my ass home.

*waits*

…

…..

Well. It could happen!

We have been cocked, loaded, and ready to fire for a week and a half now. Robin and I discovered that, while a due date for pregnancy is set at about 40 weeks, the actual full term for the baby’s development is 38 weeks. we are now 39 and a half. So yeah. any day now…

And we’re not even done packing yet!!!

Pregnancy is beautiful... really!!

nospam@example.com (Bobby) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 11:24:51 -0600

If I sound like I’m trying to convince myself, it’s because, sometimes, I really am. Yes pregnancy and the creation of a new life is a beautiful and wonderous thing. A glowing pregnant lady can be cute, pretty, sexy, all of those things. It’s the… other stuff… the…… byproducts, if you will, of this miracle that are, well… disgusting.

And it only gets worse as the pregnancy goes on.

In the beginning, it’s just gas. And puke, if you are one of the unlucky ones to get “morning” sickness. Then there’s more gas. Vaginal discharge. And more gas… And more — well, let’s just say that the gas never stops. It just keeps surfacing in weird and wonderful ways. It is, at the very least, an endless source of entertainment. For all you guys out there who have girls that like to pretend that there body is above gas and therefore they do not fart like us lowly men, well… get ‘em pregnant. Then fart jokes may once again, abound. But watch yourselves, fellows!!! Mood swings while pregnant are nothing to shake a stick at. You don’t want an angry pregnant woman chasing you down the street! She will catch you… eventually. Remember! They sleep less and less as it goes on — and they “sleep” right beside you…

But I digress…

Gas is fun nastiness. Ever heard of a mucus plug? Doesn’t that just sound….. appetizing? No, you don’t eat it you silly people! It is just an expression. It’s the afterbirth that some people eat. You heard me! I’m not knocking people’s practices — people are free to do whatever they want, no matter how gross, as long as it doesn’t hurt anybody… and eating the afterbirth doesn’t hurt anybody. But ewww!!!! And I have a hard time believing that wasn’t your first reaction as well…

So mucus plug… this is a relatively dense plug of mucus that seals the cervix to keep out bacteria and the like. It’s a good thing. Then, late in the pregnancy, the cervix thins and opens — and the mucus plug falls into the toilet in a large mucus-y, often brown/pink/red and bloody mass. Plop. Sometimes it comes out in bits first, and some women don’t notice it coming out at all — but it’s there! When it finally does come out, it is a good indication of a week or less to go before the baby burrows its way out. They don’t show that stuff in the movies!! As a matter of fact, Robin and I had never even really heard of a mucus plug at all until we stumbled upon it doing a little research. What a wonderfully disgusting surprise!

There are a lot of things about pregnancy that they hide from you in Hollywood… I mean, did you know that, after all that time and trouble and pushing, the baby comes out — and you think you’re done, ladies? Think again! You have to push some more and give birth again! To the placenta. The afterbirth. Ok, well, you might have known that… but I bet you didn’t know that some people eat it!!! At least some of you didn’t know that… be honest!!

And ew!!!!

And don’t kid yourselves, people! When the water breaks and floods all over everything… That’s not water.

Nope.

Not water….

So yeah…. pregnancy — as well as all other bodily functions — it’s yucky!

The Sickness Returns!!!! ...again!

nospam@example.com (Bobby) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 14:59:08 -0700

Just when you think it’s safe to get back in the water…

Just when the world seems like it makes sense…

Just when you feel the need for stupid cliches has passed………

You were wrong.

Yep, you guessed it folks — and even if you didn’t, I’m going to tell you anyway — the (near) blissful (almost) comfort of the past several months (relative to the horror of the first trimester) has come to a sudden and really yucky halt. The Sickness has returned!!! …again!

It has changed form, certainly — but it is back nonetheless. And it is torturing poor Robin with the vengeance of one that has been too long denied.

Out of nowhere, Robin was bludgeoned with bronchitis. She has coughed up icky green stuff, she has had a fever — poor baby lives in a heatwave now — she has thrown up yucky liquids, and she has been relegated back to the “comforts” of the bed. I say “comforts” with those fabulous little bunny ears because, let’s face it, lying down for hours at a time is no fun for a pregnant lady.

Watch yourselves, ladies. The Sickness is tricksy.

It has even gotten into the mind of our doctor! Not the OBGYN — he’s in surgery all day and out of contact… — the GP that we generally go to. I have always been suspicious that he is one of those pill-pusher types doctors — you know, the kind that throw medication at everything, no matter what. When Robin got sick on top of the regular The Sickness in the earlier stages of the pregnancy, the doctor threw some strange pill at her that, upon researching, we discovered was actually banned from use in the US. I can’t remember what it was called now, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

Point is, it was banned somewhere due to possible badness to pregnant ladies.

And wasn’t necessary.

Bah!

This time around, he listens to Robin’s breathing, determines she has bronchitis and promtly throws a new pill at her — and a liquid med too (this one’s an expectorant/anti-asthma thingy). He didn’t even try to get a bacterial culture thingy to see what -kind- of bronchitis she has, specifically!We didn’t think too much of it at the time, because we know that bronchitis is the sort of infection that generally needs an antibiotic, but when we got home and did some checking on the effects of this drug (Biaxin or Claritromycin), we discover that it is not conclusive whether or not it is safe to take while pregnant. As a matter of fact, when I talked to a pharmacist today, she read to me right out of a book that said there have been relatively few human trials, and that those were inconclusive and need more testing, and that in the animal trials — poor animals and their babies! — the effects were not positive at all.

I know some people like to think so, but we are not so different than other animals when it comes to our basic workings. And yes we are animals too — don’t make me slap you!

Anyway, we are going to another doctor for a second opinion today. And I plan to call her OBGYN tomorrow. There are other options for bronchitis meds, and a couple of them are even determined to be “okay” for pregnant ladies to take. As long as the benefits outweigh the risks… Benefits, in this case, being that she gets better faster and the baby spends less time getting cooked by her body instead of baked at its regular, steady heat. Fever is not good for babies. Nope. Especially those unborn types.

I just hope we get some good information from this other doctor. I want options dammit! I want to be confident that the doctor isn’t just giving us what he or she figures is “okay” for the baby. I want to know that the doctor has put some serious thought into it and is giving us what he is sure is the lowest risk for the baby — and for Robin too.

So far, not feelin’ it.

I hope she feels better soon.

The Good, the Bad, and the Bobby

nospam@example.com (Bobby) — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 15:29:58 -0700

Well now… this is where I ask myself:

Do I really want to transfer all of my bad habits to my child?

Seriously. I do some pretty screwy things!

Granted, I don’t drink or do any crazy drugs or smoke or anything like that — but those aren’t the only bad habits in the world. I curse a blue streak, for example. This is a habit I picked up from my mother — although, to be fair, she also instilled in me, very vigorously, the concepts of “a time and place for everything” and “do as I say, not as i do”, which resulted in adults often telling her I was a very polite child — which I was. And am. Unless the situation calls for otherwise. So maybe that isn’t such a bad thing, cursing a blue streak… As long as it is tempered with good sense.

The kid is going to learn the “language” from other kids anyway. And from televsion — and the radio too, nowadays. Don’t even get me started on the interweb. I mean, I was swearing in at least 5 different languages or more by the time I was 9 — and my mother only speaks the one.

So maybe swearing isn’t such a big deal. I’ll just try and temper myself a bit, and attempt to teach the kid good sense.

Good.

Glad we got that covered.

Now what about these other things…?

What about more insidious things like my tendency to get caught up with what I am doing to the exclusion of all else — even food? Do I really want my kid to learn that? On the one hand, it can be a good thing. It is a focus that is able to really bring about a conclusion to a project — if the obsessive nature of that focus doesn’t burn you out first. Helped me get the job I have now. Helped me keep the job I have now. Helped me with many other things as well — but it also caused me to burn out on things prematurely and sometimes not finish what I started. And let’s face it, forgetting to eat… not good!

Robin gets on my case about that. I can’t blame her, really. She loves me you know… And it certainly doesn’t help your cause when you are so focused on getting something done that you forget to fuel your brain and end up either making mistakes, or at the very least, making things take longer because you can’t think straight. I am still searching for the middle ground here myself — so how do I teach that to my kid? And what about the 50,000 or so other bad habits and potential bad habits that I’ve got going on? I think I’m a good man — but I want my kid to be a better person than me!

Honestly… this being a role model thing kinda sucks.

But it’s is so bloody important!!!

And where do I leave off pushing these values and whatnot onto the kid? Where do I stop and just let the kid figure things out for him or herself? I have been told I have natural paternal instinct and that I do well with kids and whatever, but seriously… what the hell?

My answer thus far is just continue to try to improve upon myself and try to teach the kid good sense. I think judgement is key.

That’s all I got, man.

That’s it.

And for those of you who are only here for the belly shots and could care less about my whining — this here’s for you:

And, for good measure…

Here’s a pic of my puppies:

Enjoy.

Common sense is not that common

nospam@example.com (Bobby) — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 15:56:35 -0700

Today was a good day. Robin and I slept in a bit — 9:30am constitutes sleeping in these days… and I expect that to onlyt get worse — then we went swimming. We have been trying to go swimming for the entire length of the pregnancy, for both fun and pre-natal exercise, but were just unable to get it together. We fixed that today. It was a lot of fun, there was a little kid’s birthday party going on and the little kids were, to put it mildy, freakin’ adorable. Not very well supervised, though. I actually had to help two kids (on separate occasions, mind you) to get out of deep water and back to the bulk of the party. They were both wearing life jackets but were sadly lacking in propulsion capability. One boy commissioned my help with a semi-shouted "Hey you, I need a little help here!" while the other looked so lost and forlorn that it was almost funny. Pitiful, but funny. Neither boy was more than 7, and was very likely not even that old — and here I am, a 32 year old man, half-naked in a pool and towing around these kids I don’t even know — and no one says a word. I was a little horrified at that. shrugs But what to do? I mentioned it to the life guard.

Now, while this is related to the title, it is not the point of this writing…
On the way out of the aquatic centre, Robin and I picked up yesterday’s paper. The reason for this was the huge front page picture of a pregnant belly with this cute little 3-4 year old girl giving it a kiss. Waaaay too cute, and obviously going to catch our attention. If not us, then who?? The title of the article was "Bringing Up Baby?" with a subtitle "Spanking, C-sections’ midwives: We check up on the latest research." Again, if not us……?

So we read all of these articles — there was a whole slew of them too — and could only reach one real conclusion: That these people have put wayyyyyyyyy too much money into proving what can only be described as common sense. That’s if they actually proved anything definitively in the first place. th writer of the articles compared different studies on the same things quite often, which often had conflicting results. It reminded me of my psychology classes back in college — a year or so of education in the different theories of hwo the human mind works and how to fix it when it breaks… which was really a year or so of learning that each accepted theory was in many ways the opposite of the others and that no one really knew anything at all. You pretty much have to take what you like out of each one and run with it. This is often my opinion on organised religion, too — but that’s a whole ‘nother ‘nother isn’t it?

So back to the matter at hand here. The article on daycare talked about a study that asked if daycare is good or bad for children. The study seemed to indicate that the child in daycare was apt to be marginally more developed mentally and marginally more of a little bad ass. They site many possible reasons for both, like a good daycare will have caregivers that are trained in child development and the child may be generally more challenged and partake more in conversation and reading activities in dayare and therefor may be more likely to have a better memory and/or a more developed vocabulary than those who don’t go. Marginally. Reasons for the bad-ass increase is more independence and less direct supervision when in an environment of multiple children and few adults. Not to mention picking up bad habits from other kids.

Ok. I’ll buy that.

I could even guess all that for myself.

Without spending $200-million dollars.

…

The article on caesarean section and whether it is more dangerous than vaginal birth left me with the same impression. It is… of course! They are cutting the woman open! This can lead to infection and scarring and a possible hysterectomy later. Not necessarily, as it is still a relatively safe procedure, but it is defintely a possibility. Some women like to do it just because and not because it needs to be done. According to this study it is somewhat more likely to cause complications after the fact. Due to the fact that they are cutting the woman open it seems fairly obvious that complications could occur.

I got the same impression from studies on midwife vs doctor and home vs hospital births. They spent a whole lot of money to conclusively figure out that, if midwives are educated and regulated in their field, just like nurses and doctors are, and if pregnancies are screened to establish the possibility of complications occuring, home births and midwife-assisted hospital births are just as safe as your more common doctor assisted hospital births. With the mid-wife assisted births, both home and hospital, the woman was also less likely to get drugged or cut. This also seems obvious as mid-wives are not doctors and are therefore not going to do surgery or push pills on you. Doctors, on the other hand, are generally in a hurry to get things overwith and look for the quickest established medical way to get things done — from my own observation, anyway.

If anyone is wondering, no we are not using a midwife. Robin’s comfort is all that matters, and she wants o do the birth in what has become the traditional way. She is also very adamant that she will not be cut or drugged unless there is no other way. And for you ladies who are reading this and men who understand — she would also rather tear than be cut (episiotomy), because it is less likely to cause complications and more likely to heal properly. We looked into it, though and know a few people who have done it and had wonderful experiences.

The article on spanking was by far the most interesting and quoted three studies, one of which said spanking as a last resort (no more than two smacks on the bottom!) was actually a pretty good way to get things done, while the other two said NO!!!! Spanking is bad!!! One went so far as to say that spanking a kid is linked to more agressive and probably criminal behaviour, and also reduces self-esteem. Somehow in there there was also mention that, while linked, it is not necessarily all bad because most adults were spanked and the majority of us turned out fine.

Yeah. I know it seems like a contradiction. shrugs

It was also pretty apparent that these studies had a difficult time distinguishing a whack on the butt from a slap on the face or beating a kid bloody. In any case, I personally believe that, while hitting a kid is generally bad, a whack on the but or even a gentle tap on the hand is a good way to educate the kid in the concept of consequences for an action. For example — and read on before you crazy wingers start bashing me — if a child is doing something that he/she should not and will not stop when you have tried to explain that it is not acceptable behaviour and why, and all other means have failed (time outs, etc), then I think it is good to let the child know that if he/she keeps it up then he/she will get a spanking. And when the child decides to keep going ahead with said bad behaviour — and this is the most important part — he/she gets a count and, finally, a follow through on the spanking.

And by spanking, I mean a decent whack on the bum relative to the kid’s size. Honestly, it doesn’t even have to hurt. It is really a psychological thing. I know of more than one parent who will tell the kid "You were warned. Now come over here and hold out your hand…" And when the kid — already crying before he/she even gets to his/her parent — gets there, the parnet only gives a tap on the palm or back of the hand. The child then proceeds to wail as if mortally wounded and also understands that he/she has gone too far and that it must now observe the consequences.

Basically, I think that yes, beating — whipping, punching, slapping, kicking, hitting too hard, shaking and other things with intent to harm or lack of control — is bad. And yes, it is obvious that that sort of thing will lead to lower self-esteem and likely more bad behaviour. I can see how it could lead to more aggressive and even criminal behaviour, especially if suffered throughout the childhood. But spanking, when used properly with reasoning and engaging the child in figuring out why what he/she did was not acceptable — and really as a last resort — is a useful and effective tool in parenting.

It can’t be all bad, as it has been used since the beginning of time — it even has its counterparts in the animal kingdom. It simply requires good judgement as to when, where and how much is appropriate. And it should be a last resort, so that it is less likely to become necessary. Just because you don’t spank your kid doesn’t make you a good parent either… there are wayyyyy too many punk ass little potential criminals running around walking all over their parents because they know their parents won’t do anything about it.

Judgement.

Common sense.

But, as a favourite prof of mine used to say…

"Common sense is not that common."

Misogynistic pregnant lady torturers!!!

nospam@example.com (Bobby) — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 22:17:39 -0700

The person who came up with the rules about what you are supposed to do before an ultrasound must be some sort of misogynist. Seriously. You know those little forms you always get before any appointment that involves some sort of test? The ones that tell you not to eat for so many hours beforehand or whatever? Well, for an ultrasound, they tell you to drink a litre of water about 2 hours before — and to not go pee.

Now I don’t know how many of you who read this actually know anyone who knows, or know personally what it’s like to be pregnant — but that just doesn’t fly. The poor woman has to pee all the time as it is… and now she has to hold a litre of water for nearly 3 hours???

It’s insanity, I tell you.

Now poor Robin had to get up at 530 in the morning to practice this misogynistic ritual, because the appointment was at 730am. Yet more proof of the evil nature of The Man. It didn’t help that we had a a hard time getting to sleep the night before (we were excited), or that I kept waking up every hour or so convinced that it was time to get up and Robin must drink her water now. A tired body is not conducive to bladder control. Neither was flood of water falling from the sky, preparing to remind her with every drop how much she was carrying around in her — an amount that seriously wanted to reach out and join the downpour.

It also didn’t help that Robin’s body was not, at that time, made to handle a sudden intake of a large volume of water. As it was not made to handle such things, it — of course — rejected it. Into the sink. Several times. And poor Robin had to do it all over again.

Thankfully, the second time she was able to keep it down.

So we rushed her to the hospital’s ultrasound/medical imaging place. Her trying to ignore the pouring, POURING rain, me trying to get there quickly without a single hard start or stop — and definitely know sharp turns.

At this point… centrifuge bad.

I let her off by the door so she could run in while I park — and when I find her inside, she is waiting for me and practically doing the pee-pee dance. By the time we are in the waiting room, she has to go so bad she is nearly in tears. All I could do was try to tell her to hang in there — words that mean absolutely nothing in that situation. I just didn’t want her to run to the bathroom and then find out she had to do all of this again another day.

The lady at the desk was nice, though. She said Robin could go to the bathroom and let a bit out. If this happens to you, I recommend you learn extreme and very fine muscle control. In a hurry. Robin just barely pulled it off.

Now what’s the big deal, you say? If it’s necessary, then just do it?

Wellll that’s the thing now isn’t it?

When Robin finally got into the ultrasound room, the technician told her that all she had to do was be well hydrated the day before and have a glass of water a little bit before starting.

With all of the natural ways the body tortures pregnant women, why do some people think it necessary to inflict new and potentially humiliating horrors on them?

I’m telling you…!

Misogynists!

Flowers and a whole roasted chicken... the ultimate gift! aka: FEAR THE PREGNANT LADY!!!

nospam@example.com (Bobby) — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 11:43:38 -0700

Cravings.

Ohhh cravings!!

This may be the most ridiculously funny, odd, and sometimes scary part of pregnancy from a man’s point of view. I’m not kidding! If there is one little piece of advice I can offer all you pregnant men out there it is this:

When the pregnant lady wants something — get it!

It doesn’t matter how weird it is, how seemingly pointless, or how tired or lazy you are feeling at that moment. Get off your ass, say "Yes, honey. Right away, honey." and take your sorry butt to the store, restaurant, swap meet, chicken wing emporium, or wherevever else you might have to go. And do it now, pregnant men! Do it now!

Why, you say?

What about your needs?

HAH!

You, sir, are a moron!

FEAR THE PREGNANT LADY!!!

Have you ever seen a pregnant lady, as my new friend over at Shrodinger’s Rabbit alluded to, grow into a huge, building crushing godzilla?

Not fun.

I encourage you (by all that’s holy!!!) to avoid this at all cost.

I’ve been pretty good about it, I think, and as a result, Robin’s cravings have been mostly amusing. There have been waaaayyyy too many in these past 14 weeks to list, but trust me — funny.

To me, anyway.

Some of them last for days with her! Regular things like wonton soup, pho, and tomatoes and eggs — Nothing else. Just a plate full of eggs covered with tomatoes.

She eats it like ice cream.

Go figure.

And be aware, fellas, that gifts of food — especially if you know what the craving of the week, day, or minute is — are only going to get you in the pregnant lady’s good books. Once, when Robin was in the midst of a freak out of sorts, I brought flowers to her work — the nearly unscented kind… THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT — and I also brought her an entire roast chicken from the grocery store.

Yes, you heard me right.

An entire roast chicken.

It was a hit, as she was not impressed with her lunch that day and was on the roasted chicken craving that week.

This brings up two things that I should note:

Bring her what she wants, in large quantity if need be, but don’t ever, EVER make a comment about it. Even if she seems in good humour and you think you are being funny, the possibility of a laugh is faaaarrrr outweighed by the possibility of making a pregnant lady feel fat. DON’T DO IT MAN!!!

Be up to date!!! Otherwise, you risk her throwing up all over you. Robin had an intense love for cheese even before the pregnancy — but it was quite suddenly and quite dramatically reversed…

Beware.

Oh! And go shopping with her, man! She will enjoy your company, you will find it amusing fending off the impulse buys (bring a list, boys… bring a list!), and, most importantly, she will enjoy your company.

Live by the above, and you will (probably) survive.

At least you will stand a fighting chance!