Unpreparedness Guide
I could write one. Or, maybe I am one.Saturday afternoon. My sister's house. A gaggle of female relatives and old family friends. My wife. Me. A cake. Games. Gifts. A baby shower.
As baby showers go, this one was relatively harmless. We got everything we really needed and asked for (except the baby monitor).
I think it was the cumulative ping of a roomfull of female voices that set off my headache. Instead of aspirin, I prescribed a couple of beers for myself. The pain was still there, but what I really needed was something to take the edge off, if you know what I mean. (I don't think this space has any female readers, so I'm confident all of my readers know exactly what I mean.)
The only baby implement that confused my subdued brain was the vaporizer. After unwrapping, I examined the box like a monkey contemplating an Imac.
"It's a vaporizer." Someone offered.
"Ah." I replied. Dumb as I felt being surrounded by women ooing and awwing over yellow ducky themed PJs and bibs and crib sheets, ...I could still read.
"It's for the baby."
"Ok." Laugher ensues.
"It adds moisture to the air so the baby doesn't get sick."
"It adds moisture." Just what we need for summers in Milwaukee, huh?
"Yeah. Just take our word for it. It's good."
Ok, file that one under "good" and move on.
We were tooling about the other night doing some small chores. I was answering a question about my use of English in a particular situation.
We had been at the post office to buy .80 international stamps so the wife could send cards to her family. The wife had asked me if we could get those "Air Mail" stickers that usually accompany mail sent overseas. We were walking away from the counter when she asked, so I leaned back towards the clerk and asked.
"Do they give out those "Air Mail" stickers for international mail?"
They do, so she gave us a small stack.
The wife wanted to know why I didn't say, "Do you give out those 'Air Mail' stickers for international mail?"
I was explaining that using "you" in that situation might have implied that I was asking her to do something contrary to stated policy. What I really wanted to know was what is the stated policy on those stickers. As I was explaining this, she suddenly bent forward in pain.
She sat there in the passenger seat, bent over like she had been shot, one had on her stomache, another on her lower back, groaning in pain. She couldn't or wouldn't speak even though I asked repeatedly what the problem was.
When I asked if it was a contraction, she finally nodded "yes". This one was a lot more painful than the others she'd had. Also, it targeted her lower back, which is the first time that has happened. I suggested we rest in the car for a while before going into the grocery store. In the parking lot I timed 3 contractions, about 1 minute in length, 5-6 minutes apart.
Those 6 minutes between contractions were nerve-wracking.
I kept thinking that I'm not ready for this yet. I never finished reading the binder of material the hospital gave us, I never reviewed the notes I took from class, I haven't finished (or started) fixing up the nursery, I haven't packed a bag for the hospital, I haven't prepared food for during labor (in case the caffeteria is closed), I haven't practiced breathing with her, I haven't purchased a lamaase ball for her to use, I haven't prepared myself mentally for the ordeal.
Between the 2nd and 3rd contractions she said she would be ready to go into the store after the next contraction. Once it was over, we left the car and went into the store. I was sure her water would break right there in the Pick n Save, but it didn't. She was right. The contractions stopped. I'm not sure how she knew it, but she did.
That brings us to our doctor visit this morning. She goes in, I'm in the waiting room reading a magazine article about preparing your dog for your new baby. I've been a little concerned about the WND (World's Naughtiest Dog) knocking over the crib (like she once did with my old birdcage).
The doctor comes into the waiting room and calls me into the clinic area.
She explains "medical lingo, blah blah, medical lingo so we need to schedule an ultrasound as soon as possible, but everything is probably ok."
"Uh, ...what's the problem exactly?"
Some sort of measurement they take is smaller than it should be. She implied that it was smaller than her last measurement. This fact implied that the baby might be too small, .....or, ....might have dropped into the pelvic region a bit early.
Now I'm terrified. She gets on the phone with the ultrasound people, uses verbal shorthand to explain the problem, there seems to be a problem with getting us in there, ...8:30 tomorrow?
"Ok"
From what I gather, they take a vertical measurement from the top of something, her womb maybe, to the baby. Something about how it was 3cm, but now it's 6cm. She tells us again that this either means the baby is too small or that the baby has dropped.
Seeing I was concerned, she proceeded to throw out all the encouragement, ...everything's probably ok, it's for her own peace of mind, etc etc
The wife was unphased.
She said she knows the baby is ok because the baby keeps growing and kicking and moving, and her stomache is getting bigger.
I'm glad she's confident, ...as for me, I've got 15 hours to obsess over it.
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