...and Then My Husband Got Hit By a Car

So we meticulously plan our last DATE NIGHT before baby #4 arrives. We decide on going to Shogun for some Japanese deliciousness and then we'll go see Clash of the Titans in 3D which will probably be good EVEN WITHOUT Laurence Olivier.
I'm getting cute - and he runs over to Walmart to pick up some prescriptions for our little boy who has some ROCKIN allergies right now......and I get a call.
He's been hit.
BY A CAR.
WHILE WALKING THROUGH THE PARKING LOT.

So our good friend Emma arrives for our date, and learns that instead we're going to the ER. Off we go and she keeps the boys for a night of Emma filled fun.

I have to admit - I was worried. Visions of blunt force trauma injuries creating death and destruction were raging through my head.....and I sat in the waiting room after they took him for xrays- fretting and fretting and fretting. Why didn't they come? Why didn't they call me back?

Eventually he came out,and we spent our date at midnight at the Waffle House,where the cast of characters were very colorful -including the 18 year old cook who told us all about how he'd kicked his wife out of the house for cheating on him,and he may or may not have hit her. You know - it was like reality tv dinner theater.

Ok we didn't get our date. The timing sucks. But he's ok. So, I'm as happy as I can be.

Because it could have been so so so much worse.

...and Then My Husband Got Hit By a Car

So we meticulously plan our last DATE NIGHT before baby #4 arrives. We decide on going to Shogun for some Japanese deliciousness and then we'll go see Clash of the Titans in 3D which will probably be good EVEN WITHOUT Laurence Olivier.
I'm getting cute - and he runs over to Walmart to pick up some prescriptions for our little boy who has some ROCKIN allergies right now......and I get a call.
He's been hit.
BY A CAR.
WHILE WALKING THROUGH THE PARKING LOT.

So our good friend Emma arrives for our date, and learns that instead we're going to the ER. Off we go and she keeps the boys for a night of Emma filled fun.

I have to admit - I was worried. Visions of blunt force trauma injuries creating death and destruction were raging through my head.....and I sat in the waiting room after they took him for xrays- fretting and fretting and fretting. Why didn't they come? Why didn't they call me back?

Eventually he came out,and we spent our date at midnight at the Waffle House,where the cast of characters were very colorful -including the 18 year old cook who told us all about how he'd kicked his wife out of the house for cheating on him,and he may or may not have hit her. You know - it was like reality tv dinner theater.

Ok we didn't get our date. The timing sucks. But he's ok. So, I'm as happy as I can be.

Because it could have been so so so much worse.

There Is No Dignity in Labor and Delivery

Two nights ago I had some very lovely real deal contractions and after an hour of them, we whisked off the to hospital - convinced go time had arrived.
When I got back to triage - there was a nurse waiting for me with a big grin "You must be Bridgette -HI! I'm Kimberly's mom!"
Kimberly is my good friend from where I used to work.
So at first, I was like, OH HAI cool....someone who kinda knows me.

Here is what I didn't factor in. Her next statement:"Ok let's check your cervix."

I'm serious man. Did you ever meet someone's parent for the first time only to have them reach into your lady parts not ten minutes later and dig for your cervix? No? NOR SHOULD YOU. It's so feckin undignified.

I mean, I didn't even care at the time, I didn't process it till later because once you've had babies you know that no modesty and no dignity are part of the process when the contractions start. But still. HOW SURREAL.

The contractions slacked, slowed, got far far less on the magic machine that reads them and then the doctor got out of surgery and SHE came for a dig in my vag - ruled me dilated to two but not progressing so sent me home.

So I'm home. I'm doing pre-op today which I am sure will be hella good times right. I'll be meeting with anethesiology and beating them in the head about the drugs I want. ALL OF THE FUCKING DRUGS- JUST WRITE DOWN ALL OF THE FUCKING DRUGS.

For now we wait.......and I just hope that we wait till Monday.......because some nutball hit my husband yesterday with her car - which is in itself another WHOLE blog post........

There Is No Dignity in Labor and Delivery

Two nights ago I had some very lovely real deal contractions and after an hour of them, we whisked off the to hospital - convinced go time had arrived.
When I got back to triage - there was a nurse waiting for me with a big grin "You must be Bridgette -HI! I'm Kimberly's mom!"
Kimberly is my good friend from where I used to work.
So at first, I was like, OH HAI cool....someone who kinda knows me.

Here is what I didn't factor in. Her next statement:"Ok let's check your cervix."

I'm serious man. Did you ever meet someone's parent for the first time only to have them reach into your lady parts not ten minutes later and dig for your cervix? No? NOR SHOULD YOU. It's so feckin undignified.

I mean, I didn't even care at the time, I didn't process it till later because once you've had babies you know that no modesty and no dignity are part of the process when the contractions start. But still. HOW SURREAL.

The contractions slacked, slowed, got far far less on the magic machine that reads them and then the doctor got out of surgery and SHE came for a dig in my vag - ruled me dilated to two but not progressing so sent me home.

So I'm home. I'm doing pre-op today which I am sure will be hella good times right. I'll be meeting with anethesiology and beating them in the head about the drugs I want. ALL OF THE FUCKING DRUGS- JUST WRITE DOWN ALL OF THE FUCKING DRUGS.

For now we wait.......and I just hope that we wait till Monday.......because some nutball hit my husband yesterday with her car - which is in itself another WHOLE blog post........

Enough Is As Good As a Feast

It never occurred to me that Auntie Mame might've been the best flipping parent ever until I had kids of my own, and remembered the gems that would drop out of her mouth - specifically "You've had enough, and enough is as good as a feast."

Enough IS as good as a feast. You get what you want and need, and don't feel gorged and gluttonous after. Even better, you maintain some dignity and decorum - you don't look like Augustus Glut slurping chocolate from the river like a manic chocolate pig.

I think that in the labor and delivery classes, when they show you the horror show movies about what is going to happen to your body during labor, and they show you the movies on how to take care of that small human when you get it home......they should also have Auntie Mame night.

Just to remind you that some dignity and grace will carry that child a long way - but that they have to get it FROM YOU.

A case in point from the modern world........EASTER EGG HUNTS.

(please note the kid who has been KNOCKED DOWN in the photo above)

Now, I'd like to first mention that I don't subscribe to the "Oh let's give everyone a certificate and ALL BE WINNERS" sort of bullshit. I don't believe in false rewards. But - I also believe that there is a fine line between competition and greed - and just as we don't allow celebrations in the NFL without penalty....we should teach our children that you need to succeed with class.

For the past couple of years at my mom's group Easter egg hunt, there's been this spoiled yuppie mentality of "GET ALL THE EGGS YOU CAN SCREW THE OTHER KIDS!". You'd see kids with 10 eggs, and kids with literally 60 eggs, baskets overflowing and their parents just laughing about how cute it was.


It's not cute.



First and foremost it's not cute because Mommy and Daddy only contributed two dozen eggs to the hunt at our club. So you know, taking a LOT more than that, is kind of jerkwadish. But I don't need to split hairs and count eggs. And I realize my twins aren't going to get a "normal" amount of eggs because of being autistic they need help, and are slower etc. So, I'm really ok that my kids get a few less and your kids get a few more.
This lesson of not taking more than we "need" applies across all facets of our lives. Don't take more food at a buffet than you need - just to throw the leftovers away. It's wasteful. Don't waste energy, power.......natural resources.

Auntie Mame's words weren't just about small petty things. And Easter Egg hunts are one place that children can and do learn social expectations for their lives. A hour or two in a park, repeated yearly, teaches behavior lessons that are applied throughout other events.

What made me laugh this year was that I mentioned it at our club, this greedy taking of waaaaayyyy too many eggs. I could hear other parents shouting to their kids exactly the number of eggs they were allowed this year. Which cracked me up. They missed the point.

I brought three dozen eggs per kid. I dunno how many we brought home. Less than that. We got enough eggs to make three VERY happy little boys. After we had enough, we played at the park where the party was held and had a wonderful day.

We'd had enough. And it was as good as a feast.

Enough Is As Good As a Feast

It never occurred to me that Auntie Mame might've been the best flipping parent ever until I had kids of my own, and remembered the gems that would drop out of her mouth - specifically "You've had enough, and enough is as good as a feast."

Enough IS as good as a feast. You get what you want and need, and don't feel gorged and gluttonous after. Even better, you maintain some dignity and decorum - you don't look like Augustus Glut slurping chocolate from the river like a manic chocolate pig.

I think that in the labor and delivery classes, when they show you the horror show movies about what is going to happen to your body during labor, and they show you the movies on how to take care of that small human when you get it home......they should also have Auntie Mame night.

Just to remind you that some dignity and grace will carry that child a long way - but that they have to get it FROM YOU.

A case in point from the modern world........EASTER EGG HUNTS.

(please note the kid who has been KNOCKED DOWN in the photo above)

Now, I'd like to first mention that I don't subscribe to the "Oh let's give everyone a certificate and ALL BE WINNERS" sort of bullshit. I don't believe in false rewards. But - I also believe that there is a fine line between competition and greed - and just as we don't allow celebrations in the NFL without penalty....we should teach our children that you need to succeed with class.

For the past couple of years at my mom's group Easter egg hunt, there's been this spoiled yuppie mentality of "GET ALL THE EGGS YOU CAN SCREW THE OTHER KIDS!". You'd see kids with 10 eggs, and kids with literally 60 eggs, baskets overflowing and their parents just laughing about how cute it was.


It's not cute.



First and foremost it's not cute because Mommy and Daddy only contributed two dozen eggs to the hunt at our club. So you know, taking a LOT more than that, is kind of jerkwadish. But I don't need to split hairs and count eggs. And I realize my twins aren't going to get a "normal" amount of eggs because of being autistic they need help, and are slower etc. So, I'm really ok that my kids get a few less and your kids get a few more.
This lesson of not taking more than we "need" applies across all facets of our lives. Don't take more food at a buffet than you need - just to throw the leftovers away. It's wasteful. Don't waste energy, power.......natural resources.

Auntie Mame's words weren't just about small petty things. And Easter Egg hunts are one place that children can and do learn social expectations for their lives. A hour or two in a park, repeated yearly, teaches behavior lessons that are applied throughout other events.

What made me laugh this year was that I mentioned it at our club, this greedy taking of waaaaayyyy too many eggs. I could hear other parents shouting to their kids exactly the number of eggs they were allowed this year. Which cracked me up. They missed the point.

I brought three dozen eggs per kid. I dunno how many we brought home. Less than that. We got enough eggs to make three VERY happy little boys. After we had enough, we played at the park where the party was held and had a wonderful day.

We'd had enough. And it was as good as a feast.

Put Me In Coach

I have to admit it, I'm more than vexed by the concept that I've conceived a child that won't obey mother nature and turn the correct direction for delivery. I got lucky previously. I know this. Easy labor, easy births - even the twins - for a TWIN delivery were a cake walk comparatively.

I have always, ALWAYS gotten my way, when it came to labor and delivery.

I got the drugs, I got the experience I wanted.

And well......I kinda like it.

I don't FEAR it. It's the known to me. I know for a fact that this frame and these hips can get the job done, I'm BUILT to breed except for that whole deformed uterus thing.

I can DO this, Mother Nature. Put me in. What's the trade off this time? No drugs......well that'd suck but you know what, I'd take it over the c-section I really would. I'd take a deep breath and plung forward that women have for thousands of years and it'd be fine.

I'm not being put in. I've been sidelined, reduced to a spectator in the birth of my own child, my only daughter. It's making me a little bitter, I have to admit. If I brush aside my abject FEAR of surgery, of the recovery, of the pain and suffering I'm going to endure afterward vs. the next to nothing after childbirth.......I'm fucking PISSED OFF that I'm no longer an integral part of this process.

I am not the crew. I am the Enterprise. And that is so not cool.

Does it beat the alternatives? Well hell yeah. I'd rather this than either of us end up dead. But I'm a bit pissed off at fate I have to admit.

And I'm gonna be a huge baby about this whole thing. I'd like everyone to just get their hankies out now because I'm not gonna be brave or tough or nuttin.

I have included random pics from our Twins Club Spring Party for one reason.

They make me happy.

Hope yours was magical too.

Put Me In Coach

I have to admit it, I'm more than vexed by the concept that I've conceived a child that won't obey mother nature and turn the correct direction for delivery. I got lucky previously. I know this. Easy labor, easy births - even the twins - for a TWIN delivery were a cake walk comparatively.

I have always, ALWAYS gotten my way, when it came to labor and delivery.

I got the drugs, I got the experience I wanted.

And well......I kinda like it.

I don't FEAR it. It's the known to me. I know for a fact that this frame and these hips can get the job done, I'm BUILT to breed except for that whole deformed uterus thing.

I can DO this, Mother Nature. Put me in. What's the trade off this time? No drugs......well that'd suck but you know what, I'd take it over the c-section I really would. I'd take a deep breath and plung forward that women have for thousands of years and it'd be fine.

I'm not being put in. I've been sidelined, reduced to a spectator in the birth of my own child, my only daughter. It's making me a little bitter, I have to admit. If I brush aside my abject FEAR of surgery, of the recovery, of the pain and suffering I'm going to endure afterward vs. the next to nothing after childbirth.......I'm fucking PISSED OFF that I'm no longer an integral part of this process.

I am not the crew. I am the Enterprise. And that is so not cool.

Does it beat the alternatives? Well hell yeah. I'd rather this than either of us end up dead. But I'm a bit pissed off at fate I have to admit.

And I'm gonna be a huge baby about this whole thing. I'd like everyone to just get their hankies out now because I'm not gonna be brave or tough or nuttin.

I have included random pics from our Twins Club Spring Party for one reason.

They make me happy.

Hope yours was magical too.

I Was Wrong, It SHOULD Be AVERSION

Ok so I don't want to rave on like a lunatic about being pregnant because really, even I'm getting bored with it. But truthfully, now that I've tried the VERSION process, I'm filing it under ACK.

Mine didn't work.

That's the less dramatic version of the story.

The dramatic version would be that I truly believe I could've birthed her on the spot with less agony than what I went through as he tried to shove my giant baby into a position she had no interest in going to. I'm not sure that it's natural for a human to put their hands that deeply into your abdomen and have them not come up bloody.

I was as quiet as I could be though, during the process, because my #1 thought was that if he knew how badly this optional procedure was hurting me, he'd STOP. And the last thing I wanted him to do was stop.

But it didn't matter, and when it was all over I had the shakes from the terbutaline (sp?) they'd given me to relax my uterus and hopefully prevent the onset of labor. They brought me a zombie turkey sandwich (ask Homer Simpson if you don't get the reference) and some apple juice which I slugged down at about 1 I'm guessing. We'd arrived at 8:30.

Today I'm miserable. My entire stomach hurts like it was in a fight. And it lost. Which is hard to believe given it's SIZE.

So now the plan is, c section April 20. When I get there, after my spinal, he will try to turn her again. Apparently he can shove a lot harder when I can't feel the pain. Or if I go into labor, and they do a spinal, and the stars are aligned just right - again - he'll try to turn her. But she's a pretty big girl and only getting bigger. So we'll hope for the best but not hold our breath.

He's promising me I can have Versed as soon as the cord is cut, and right now, that's about all I'm looking forward to.

I Was Wrong, It SHOULD Be AVERSION

Ok so I don't want to rave on like a lunatic about being pregnant because really, even I'm getting bored with it. But truthfully, now that I've tried the VERSION process, I'm filing it under ACK.

Mine didn't work.

That's the less dramatic version of the story.

The dramatic version would be that I truly believe I could've birthed her on the spot with less agony than what I went through as he tried to shove my giant baby into a position she had no interest in going to. I'm not sure that it's natural for a human to put their hands that deeply into your abdomen and have them not come up bloody.

I was as quiet as I could be though, during the process, because my #1 thought was that if he knew how badly this optional procedure was hurting me, he'd STOP. And the last thing I wanted him to do was stop.

But it didn't matter, and when it was all over I had the shakes from the terbutaline (sp?) they'd given me to relax my uterus and hopefully prevent the onset of labor. They brought me a zombie turkey sandwich (ask Homer Simpson if you don't get the reference) and some apple juice which I slugged down at about 1 I'm guessing. We'd arrived at 8:30.

Today I'm miserable. My entire stomach hurts like it was in a fight. And it lost. Which is hard to believe given it's SIZE.

So now the plan is, c section April 20. When I get there, after my spinal, he will try to turn her again. Apparently he can shove a lot harder when I can't feel the pain. Or if I go into labor, and they do a spinal, and the stars are aligned just right - again - he'll try to turn her. But she's a pretty big girl and only getting bigger. So we'll hope for the best but not hold our breath.

He's promising me I can have Versed as soon as the cord is cut, and right now, that's about all I'm looking forward to.