aww thanks for checking in on me ladies. sorry to have gone AWOL. basically, i’ve been smoking pot again and riding the substance abuse rollercoaster. its not pretty. i dont want to write about it because i am ashamed.
last night i drank three STRONG gin and tonics with my neighbors, took a completely unnecessary hit of MJ, and then threw up on my lawn. nice, huh? i feel worthless today.
C asked me to guest post for her but since i am a complete moron i cant find a way to sign in to her wordpress account. there does not seem to be a sign in page at all. ideas?
so i spoke with C earlier today and they are still in the hospital. everything is fine. S has been discharged but they are able to stay because the baby is a patient. she has jaundice and needs a little more time in her lightsuit. i picture her looking like a little yellow jetson baby. C said i could nickname her. as if. i mean really. what an honor but one that i may not prove worthy of. we all know how difficult nicknames are. my best attempt is this: “littleo”. y’know like the Big O but smaller. this will make more sense when you hear her name.
anywayyyyyy, littleo is having a hard time becoming unyellow because she isnt pooping or peeing much because she hasnt been nursing much. she needs to process out the bilirubin through her digestive system. but she’s picking up the pace and hopefully will be checking out of her lightbed tomorrow.
the nursing has been a little challenging. s’s milk has not come in yet so she is on a rigorous schedule of nursing, pumping, nursing with supplemental feeding tube, cleaning the parts. phew. S’s nipples are killing her even with a good latch, possibly because freckled women have extra-sensitive nipples. actually her nipples probably hurt because nursing hurts like a mo’fo’ in the beginning regardless of one’s being freckled or unfreckled.
goddammit. monstergirl is relapsing. she is peeing in her panties for the millionth fucking time. she’s standing cross-legged, RIGHT IN FRONT of her potty and screaming, “peeeeeeeeee. peeeeeeee. mamaaaaaaa.” yep. she’s almost four. and babykate just woke up from a 20 fucking minute excuse for a nap. and now legoboy is all bitter because there arent enough blank pages in his journal. you gotta be fucking kidding me.
monstergirl is still screaming. oh my god i so royally fucked up her potty training.
okay it’s over. 30 minutes later. i am shredded. gutted. she’s coloring. cheerfully. normally i would begin the post-fit recriminations of how i handled the situation and the catastrophizing about how fucked she is going to turn out. but i’ve got to finish my post about the mamas.
so they are good. the hospital is pretty much the waldorf astoria of maternity centers so they are being very well cared for. S is frustrated and scared about the nursing situation but hopefully her milk will come in soon. and then she’ll have hamburger meat where her nipples used to be but at least the baby wont be yellow anymore.
they couldnt decide between two names so they flipped a coin. um-hm. yes they did. they flipped. a. coin. for reals. those crazy mamas.
i’ll leave the birth details to C although i sure have plenty of them still swirling around my addled brain. if you are dying for any particular details, leave it in your comment and i’ll try to oblige. if anybody can leave me a link to a wordpress sign-in page then i’ll try to post this on her blog.
if i had to sum it all up in three words, those would be the three. it seemed most improbable at times, like after S was pushing, UNMEDICATED, for an hour and a half and the doctor said she saw a mere QUARTER-sized part of the baby’s head. it didn’t seem possible to me that the baby was coming out. out the belly maybe but certainly not the vagina. but another hour and a new position later and what do you know? she came out!! she really came out. and she was asleep! then she woke up and cried a little and met her family.
the whole thing was nothing short of astonishing. the baby is perfectly lovely and really, really big. 8 lbs, 13 ozs!! no wonder pushing her out was a little troublesome. ouch. ouch. ouch.
i am so glad that i was able to go and that i chose to go. i am also really glad that i had three c-sections! i am quite certain that i could not have done what S did. i would’ve needed an epidural for sure and i think i would’ve alternated screaming and cursing with giving up completely and hysterically crying.
i am dying to know how things are going at home, like if she has decided to start nursing (she still wasn’t so interested at 12 hours old) and what her name is. so i will wait, along with all of C’s readers, to hear news of the mamas and their baby. or maybe i will call one more time just in case they didn’t get my message.
update- so i couldnt wait any longer for news so i called one of the other women who’d been at the birth. apparently the mamas are still in the hospital because the baby has jaundice. they were supposed to leave on saturday night (the baby was born friday morning, at 3:51 a.m. i believe) but they got 2 extra nights because of the jaundice. she has been named. she is drinking smuggled breast milk because S’s milk hasnt come in yet and they dont want to give her formula. smarty has been with them the whole time and is digging his baby sister. turns out S pushed for three hours. no wonder it seemed like she pushed for, well, three hours.
i would’ve guest-posted for C had she asked me to. i certainly do not want to be stealing any thunder here but it sounds like there are many desperate friends and readers out there. all is well ladies. they will certainly be going home tomorrow. i know C doesn’t have her computer and i dont think there is internet access.
the mamas are having their baby. today it seems. i didnt think i was going to the birth. but then i got the call. actually i missed the call that came in the middle of the night so i got “the message.” the baby is coming. s’s water broke and splashed all over the floor. i dont know. its not what i expected but when i talked to C. this morning after i hung up i thought, “no fucking way am i missing this.” all thoughts of becoming too attached seemed trivial in comparison with, “my friends are having a baby TODAY and i am invited and where the hell are my car keys!”
it certainly helps that RM has the next two days off work and can cover everything involving the kids. that is a MIRACLE in itself. RM is all, “duh. of course you are going. she’s your friend and she’s having a baby.”
standing by here for the “get in the car call” and i’l be running around packing up a bag of stuff for the mamas. let’s see i’ll need cameras, chargers, cell phone, gifts, extra pads, breast pads, a few precious hand-me-down clothes…. how fun; my friends are having a baby but i also get to run around and pack a bag for the hospital. oh yeah and breastpump, freezer packs… i better get busy. cant wait to see them. and their daughter.
wow it’s been a long time since i posted. i’ve been pretty busy managing life with my pack of children. i’ve been processing our newfound status as an alternative family. i had a big talk with legoboy about how babies are made and about how dosmamas’ baby was made. he asked if the baby will look like dada. i guess he got it. i said we’d have to wait and see.
we are hoping he doesnt decide to tell everybody at school that his dad rubbed his penis and sperm came out and he gave it to our friends and they used a thingy to put it in s’s vagina and a baby grew. that would surely raise a few eyebrows. for the most part our friends dont know about the donation. none of our family members know.
i decided not to go for the birth. it seems to be the right decision. i am very much looking forward to making the little lady’s acquaintance however.
totally different subject: legoboy asked what happened to charlotte after she died. specifically he asked if she was thrown away. gulp. i gave him the straight story about burials and cremations. i told him we had her cremated. i had to use the word burned. there was really no way to sugar coat it. naturally he asked to see her ashes. i showed him and monstergirl. i have no plans to show them her photo. maybe if we get the photos improved then they can see them. i think they’d be pretty freaked out by how brownish-purple she is. i was. i still am.
gotta run.
yes it’s true. and i am coming out of semi-blog-retirement just to write tha title. and while i’m at it i might as well say a few other things on the topic. maybe in the interest of clarification. so yes my best friend, well i am not her best friend but she is my closest confidante by far and so that makes her, in my book, MY best friend. her wife, partner, girlfriend, woman, lady, better half, main squeeze whatever you want to call her is in fact pregnant. very, very pregnant. due in less than a month. and the sperm that she was inseminated with is that of my husband’s.
what’s more is that i had a dream last night about this situation. and so it’s got me thinkin’. in fact my mind is aswirl with thoughts like, “so does that make us family?” i mean we are planning for our kids to grow up knowing that the baby in question was created with their dad’s sperm. WE won’t call them half-siblings of course but somebody else might. and so does that make us family? technically?
it’s kind of a kooky situation although not as kooky as the summer of 2006 when the pregnant lady in question and i were BOTH trying to get pregnant with the same sperm. incidentally you can read their blog at dosmamas. they need some nicknames here. at once really. the blog is my friend’s and she calls herself charlotte. but i can’t call her that because for me that is the name of my baby who died at 23 weeks. hmm. i’ll get back to that later.
so in the dream last night their baby was born and she looked EXACTLY like my babykate. needless to say, that was freaky. i think we are all pretty hopeful that the baby will not come out looking a lot like Rocket Man or any of our kids. but our son resembles their son already and so maybe it won’t be such a big deal but still. the dream baby looked exactly like our daughter. then there was a weird conversation where my friend and i were discussing the virtues of naps. we were disagreeing about the importance of napping in the crib versus napping out and about. i was feeling disapproving of the plan to let the baby nap on the fly. yikes. hey it’s my subconscious talking there, dont blame me.
so the dream has got me thinking as i said. the babymamas have gracious and generously invited me to the birth. my friend, i will call her C., instead of charlotte until i think of something better, was with me when i delivered my charlotte and my babykate. i am HONORED to be invited. i’ve been thinking about whether or not i should go. after this dream, i think maybe not. thing is, i don’t want to feel an ESPECIALLY strong connection to this child. i know i’ll feel connected because she is their daughter and we are the best of friends. i dont know if i’ll feel connected because she was conceived using my husband’s sperm. i dont want to. being at the birth will likely increase my feelings of connection to her and i dont want to mix that up with the sperm donor thing. it’s complicated.
then i was also thinking about how Rocket Man will, technically, have another offspring. biological child, product of his sperm donation, offspring? whatever you want to call it. (what do you call it?) that’s kind of weird. i wonder what that feels like for him. maybe i’ll ask him if i can get a word in between interruptions from our kids and his 24/7 work demands. i am guessing it isn’t weird for him.
the whole situation has seemed strangely not strange. now it is hitting a little closer to home. likely because of the dream. which is likely because of the upcoming birth. my subconscious can’t be expected to differentiate between my husband being a sperm donor and my husband having another child with my best friend’s wife. NOBODY FREAK OUT. I DO NOT CONSIDER THEIR BABY TO BE HIS CHILD OR OUR CHILD OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. NO WAY, NO HOW. i know what makes a parent a parent and it is NOT, NOT, NOT handing over a juice glass full of sperm (okay not FULL of sperm, of course not full. he’s Rocket Man, not fucking Superman). i’m just saying that my subconscious might be working some shit out in my dreams, possibly calling to my attention an event that i really haven’t given a whole lot of thought to. i mean i’ve thought about it but not as much as one might think.
now that i’ve dug myself into a semantic hole, what more can i say? it’ll be interesting. i always have this to fall back. when we were deciding to do this, Rocket Man said something that solidified our decision. he said something like, “i think of it as another way to experience life.” so when the kids are old enough to really understand the situation, we will have that statement to remind us what we were thinking. that and more importantly that our friends needed sperm, we had some good stuff, and we didn’t mind sharing. we know full well that being a parent is like i said not about handing over some jiz.
but being a biological parent? i guess time will tell what that is about. am i not supposed to say biological parent? we wont think of RM as a bio parent. he’s the sperm donor. bio parent is the term that is used for C.’s partner, S., right? but in order for me to really process the situation i need to be able to write in black and white that technically RM is the biological parent, biological father of this child. technically, he will have produced four children, offspring, whatever. (well 5 if we count charlotte, and 8 if we count my 2 miscarriages and S’s one.) four living children, offspring, whatever. but i can almost hear C. gasping. because he is the SPERM DONOR. that’s what he is. i know that. their baby is in no way RM’s child. except in the way of biology. the language of child, parent, father is all wrong. i know that too.
i think what is happening here is that i was surprisingly at ease with S’s pregnancy. the fact that RM’s sperm was used seemed to be a mere technicality. the impending birth guarantees that the situation is about to get more real. and so i’m processing. apparently.
wow, it’s been forever since i posted. trouble is, with posting that is, that i am feeling pretty good. generally angst is what prompts me to post. i think the zoloft is fully kicked in and at 37.5 i feel good. the veil lifted. it really did. sooo feeling good is not conducive to writing. nor is having three kids. i dont have much free time and posting isnt at the top of my list of what to do with that free time. reading blogs, yes. posting, not so much.
that’s not to say i dont have some good ones brewing. i could write volumes, okay maybe not, on the state of my marriage after my six pregnancies, two 11 week miscarriages, the big f*cking nightmare, the subsequent nightmare, two remodels, one move, three first years of a baby’s life, and rocketman’s hideously stressful job…. let’s just say we’ve been through some hard times and i am not sure that we remember how to function when we are not in crisis.
then there is the fact that we’ve had sex ONE time since we had babykate (i changed her nickname). i wasn’t even sober. and no times during the pregnancy. that’s like a year and a half people. can you f*cking believe that? high-risk pregnancy, newborn, still nursing alot, major lack of intimacy, and oh yeah PTSD and a major reluctance to involve my body in any activity that i might feel vulnerable about (sex, stirrups, even the dentist). yeahhhh so there’s a post there. understatement.
it’s only in the last few weeks that it feels possible to begin assessing the state of the relationship. it is kind of brutal. baby steps, right?
just tore myself away from the deadbabyblogs. man oh man what brutal, heartbreaking losses. then there are the teeny micro-preemies that didn’t make it. and tiny simone at flotsam. you just have to be okay, simone. for your brilliant, strong mama. and for all of us.
lord, reading these blogs, it makes me want to go gather up babybear from her crib so i can feel the weight of her in my arms.
she is alive. she lived and she is alive. what an incredibly beautiful and sweet baby, i cant take my eyes off of her. what a blessing. her first tooth is starting to come through. a tooth!
my baby is alive and she ate meatballs for dinner. meatballs! what a big girl. what more can i ask for? for once, nothing comes to mind.
my heart aches for the moms out there who are going to sleep tonight without their babies. the nighttimes are the worst. i wish you could wake up from the nightmare.
i cant wait for rosepetal to hold her baby boy safe in her arms.
i am afraid to turn on the tv and see what is happening in ohio and texas. i am hopeful but not optimistic that obama’s streak will continue. seems to me it’s time for a change. but having said that, if hilary gets the nomination and wins, we’ll be a hell of a lot better off than we are today. hell we’ll be better off with mccain. good news is w.’s days are numbered.
9 months ago my baby arrived, redeeming my faith in the universe. today… she is eating chicken. chicken. how time flies. she’s a waving, clapping, barfing, chicken-eating, toe-sucking, 45 minute napping, bundle of cuteness. she has been waving alot and even saying “bwah-bwah” (bye-bye). its happened 4 or 5 times now and we are nearly ready to call it. her first word. she’ll probably be three before she crawls (no signs yet whatsoever) but she’s working hard on talking. that’s my girl.
i’ve been tagged by bri at unwellness. here are the rules:
1. Grab the nearest book of 123 pages or more.
2. Open it to page 123.
3. Find the first 5 sentences and write them down.
4. Then invite 5 friends to do the same.
Upstream in the mornings. Downstream in the evenings. And the dull, sullen sound of the boatmen’s bamboo poles as they thudded against the dark, oiled boatwood. It was warm, the water. Greygreen.
-The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
okay so who should i tag this time? how ’bout delphi at eight million pieces, rosepetal at moksha, charmedgirl at a charmed life, becky at mommy wants vodka, and c. at my resurfacing.
i LOVED this book by the way. it takes place in india and is about an unforgettable pair of twins.
on another note, i was watching “the wire” last night, which i love not as much as the sopranos but enough to compare them, and was struck by this quote: “aint no shame in holdin’ on to grief as long as you make room for other things too.” i dont have much to say about it. it just struck me.
i am feeling pretty good these days. yesterday afternoon i was starting to get a little panicky because the weekend was ending, Rocket Man was leaving town for three days, the house was a pigsty, the grocery shopping hadn’t been done, the next day was monday, no meals had been planned. while the situation did definitely suck, it only really sucked on a superficial level. i didnt get all deeply upset, if that makes sense. babybear just woke up so i’m just going to throw this up there. she is so damn cute lately, by the way, that i finally understand why people say things like, “you are so friggin adorable thati just want to eat you.”
