Postpartum My Eggo Update: Week 1

Goodbye, Preggo My Eggo. Hello, Postpartum My Eggo. What you will find in Postpartum my Eggo updates: rants about how much newborns suck, gushes about how much newborns rock, unintelligible gibberish caused by lack of sleep and hormone imbalance, etc.

What you will not find here: weekly pictures of me and weight updates. Why? Because I think that is a good way to make myself feel like a failure when I don't do well and make some readers feel like failures when I do. Postpartum weight loss is an individual journey. If you are one of these mamas that had the baby and were posting skinny pictures of your tummy the next day, more power to ya, sister. I am not one of them. Currently, my belly looks like a deflated waterbed that has been attacked by a tiger then filled with jello and left in the sun for 6 months. You don't need to see that (though you may want to).

For now, I plan to keep these up until I return to work and have more than just a newborn to talk about. So, look forward to 12 weeks aboard postpartum The Crazy Train!

The Confessional

My Sin:
I was in love with Donnie Wahlberg. A love that was all-consuming and made me do idiotic things like make out with my TV screen when NKOTB videos were on. I went to a NKOTB concert a few years ago and fell back in love with Donnie when he jumped on stage and chugged two beer in less than 30 seconds. I believe we are soul mates.

Sin From a Fellow Boozehound:
I'm deathly afraid of balloons. Like, I will walk 2 miles out of my way just to avoid them. And those balloon animal people at restaurants?! I just started motioning "no" and saying my son has a latex allergy. (He does not have a latex allergy, just fyi.) We don't have balloons at parties, except mylar ones. Those are okay. They aren't unpredictable like the latex ones. Even the smell gives me the heeby jeebies. -Erin  (ILBAB says: I think this is a Freudian fear originating from the balloon's phallic shape. I think a sex toy party with you, your closest boozehounds and a box of wine is in order to remedy this fear.)

The Confessional is now open. Have something you need to repent for? Feel free to send me your sin and I will help your purge your demons.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 39 weeks down, 0 to go. My Sponsor Has Arrived

Ta Da! He's here. He's chubby. He throws up and sleeps a lot. Sorry to keep you in suspense with the 39-week update, but we kind of wanted to keep it a secret for a bit. Even from our friends and family. We wanted to wait until we all got acquainted and The Quiet Contemplator got to meet him. Things are hunky dory thus far.

Born: Thursday, December 22, 2011 at 8:34 p.m.
Chubbiness: 7 pounds 11 ounces 19.5 inches
Name: My Sponsor TBD

Birth story to follow once I have a chance to get some sleep/can think straight.

Until then, here is a quick outline of how it went down:

1130am arrive at hospital and gown up
12pm first fisting. Holy mother of god that hurt. 1.5 cm
1pm pitocin started
3pm water broken 2.5 cm
445pm  epi
5pm ridiculous itching from epi. 4 cm
6:30pm catheter 5 cm
715pm 6 cm
8pm feel like I have to poop. Wait for dr. 10 cm
8:30pm dr arrives. Start pushing.
8:34pm he's here! I know, I suck.

Hilarity to ensue once the warm and fuzzy new baby feelings wear off and the reality sets it. Stay tuned!

Preggo my Eggo Update: 39 weeks down, 1 to go.

The end of a pregnancy must be the only time in the world where you find symptoms like extreme back pain and horrible cramps a good thing. I actually said to my husband the other day, "I had really bad diarrhea this morning and my face is super bloated so that is exciting." At this point, any signs that labor is coming are embraced, no matter how painful or disgusting they are. I would give anything to be standing in the booze aisle in Target and have my water break. I would just take it as a sign that baby really wants mama to have a drink. Please, Baby. PLEASE!

And if another person says to me, "Oh, you have totally dropped" I am going to karate chop them in the gizzard. I have not dropped. It is my second pregnancy and you don't usually drop in second pregnancies. Why? I am not sure but I think it is because God is a masochist who wants you to suffer as long as possible until D-day for having sinned and had sex again. My Sponsor is still lodged in my throat. Just where he likes it.

Yep. Still pregnant.

The Quiet Contemplator loves sharks.

So The Quiet Contemplator loves sharks. The problem with that is, she can't says "shark". It always comes out "cock". The other problem with that is, she loves sharks so she talks about them a lot. Like we will actually be in a store and she will see one and yell out, "COCK!". People tend to look at you funny after that. Namely, they tend to look at ADD Daddy funny and he wants to curl up and die and send his daughter to the monastery.

Sunday, we were watching a special on coral reefs on 60 Minutes. Guess what the coral reef has a lot of? That's right, cocks sharks. Well, the minute they panned to Anderson Cooper's guns and away from the sharks, TCQ would yell, "I want cock!" Awesome.

I like to tell TCQ to tell ADD Daddy how much she loves sharks. He does not think this is funny and you can see him have a little rage stroke every time she says in her sweet little voice, "I love cocks, Daddy." I am mean, I know.

The Confessional

My Sin:
I can not make my bed without bending halfway across the room to reach it for fear that something will grab my ankles from under the bed and try to kill me. I basically leap into bed every night so as to avoid the monsters under my bed eating me. I know this is irrational.


Sin From a Fellow Boozehound:
Motherhood: A Descent Into Madness: While breastfeeding, I thought I had figured out how long it takes the booze to purge from my system before it was okay to feed again. One night, I had pumped at like, 4 in the morning, and thinking that it was safe, stored the milk for the next feeding. Well. AFTER feeding the bottle to my son, I went to rinse it and caught a big 'ole whiff of white wine. I smelled the empty bottle, and sure enough, the booze fumes were so strong that my eyes almost watered. That son is now 3 and is not the smartest of our kids - we don't wonder why. Bad, bad mommy. (ILBAB says: A little white wine nip from the nip never hurt anyone. Thanks for sharing, mommy.)


The Confessional is now open. Have something you need to repent for? Feel free to send me your sin and I will help your purge your demons.

My Top 10

This post from The Bloggess got me to thinking of who I would invite if I had a dinner party and could invite any 10 people in the world (and actually have them show up). Here are mine. Who are yours?

1.   Daniel Day Lewis (He can just read the phonebook)
2.   Woody Harrelson (Someone has to bring the weed)
3.   Paula Deen (Because mama is hungry)
4.   Puck from the Real World (Because we need entertainment)
5.   Gerard Butler Ryan Gosling (Because I need something to look at he would probably bring a dog)
6.   Sheryl Crow (Because I need to throw my hubby a bone and don't want to punch her)
7.   Zach Galifianakis (Because he is weird and funny)
8.   Michelle Duggar (Because she needs to have a drink and get high to cope with her loss/19 kids)
9.   Dave Matthews (Because we were all in college once)
10. Chelsea Handler (Because I need someone to drink wine and make fun of Puck with)

Preggo my Eggo Update: 38 weeks down, 2 to go.

So I have discovered something about stretch marks and second pregnancies. It isn't that you have to worry about developing NEW stretch marks. What you have to worry about it your OLD stretch marks running like a pair of cheap panty hose. Yikes! It is like they found a chink in my chain and are running with it. Literally. Bastards.

Here are a few questions I am tired of hearing:
Idiot: Aren't you tired of being pregnant?
Me: No. I had a lobotomy before I got pregnant this time so I think this is all super fun.

Idiot: So when is it going to happen?
Me: What am I, f*cking Nostradamus? If I knew that, I would be sunning in Costa Rica until D-day.

Idiot: Wow. You are so big. Are you sure it isn't twins?
Me: Do you want me to punch you in the throat?

Idiot: Are you still here?
Me: No. This is only an illusion. You are just imagining me waddling my a** to the copier. You have a sucky imagination.

I have been told by two Drs, "There is a whole lot of baby in there." No sh*t.

The Confessional

The Confessional is now open. Sometimes you just need to get something off your chest. Whether it be wearing granny panties every day, throwing away that t-shirt of your husband's that you can't stand or lying to your kids about why they can't drink "Mommy's Juice", The Confessional is here. Have something you need to repent for? Me too. I will be confessing a plethora of embarrassing sins/facts about myself while I am on maternity leave, and I welcome you to do the same. Feel free to send me your sin and I will help your purge your demons.

Just to get us started, here is my first sin of many to come: I have Christmas underwear that I wear year-round. They are old, ratty and gross, but I love them. I once wore a cream dress to work and someone pointed out that you could read something on my butt underneath my dress. I jetted before they could figure out that it was "Twinkle" written in red glitter…in June. Oops. The other pair that I wear reads, "Ho Ho Ho". Classy.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 37 weeks down, 3 to go. Get the f*ck out, freeloader.

I have been in an a**load of pain this week. I have some weird problem with the muscle near my right rib getting ripped out in pregnancy and my back right behind it feeling like it is being crushed. These two problems together make me want to punch a kitten. I had the same problems last time. I see a physical therapist but they still hurt like hell. Ugh. Boo hoo. Wah.

I got my first official, "You haven't had that baby yet?" today. Which made me think, what would these people do if I said yes? Next time I think I will reply, "Yeah, I had him last week, he is just an a**hole so I decided to come back to work right away so I don't have to be around him." It reminds me of this excerpt from after I had The Quiet Contemplator:

Stupid Sh*t People Actually Said to Me After I had a Baby

A week after I had the baby, I had to go to a friend’s art opening. I thought I looked pretty damn good for having had a baby a week earlier until three separate people came up to me and said, “Damn, when are you going to have that baby already?” To which I responded, “I had her last week.” To which they responded, “No seriously, when are you due.” Me, “No, seriously, I had her last week.” Commence hysterical tears.

Anyway. Now that I am fully cooked I am just ready to get this freeloader out of my belly and into the real world. Bring on the eggplant, sex and long walks.

3 weeks to freedom

Hospital Checklist

Everyone has a list filled with rediculous crap. Here is mine, filled with the same.

Stay Connected
This is a duh, but bring your laptop to the hospital so you can check email and stay in touch with the real world while you labor (do not post on Facebook that you lost your mucus plug). This is also useful once the baby is here so you can announce to the world that you just lost 15 pounds in 20 minutes. Don't forget your camera cord and laptop charger.

It's Showtime
Download a few movies you have been wanting to watch to your iPad or laptop. Flipping through the hospital TV channels between progression checks gets lame fast. And the last thing you need to watch while in labor is a very scary episode of A Baby Story.

Mood Music
Bring iPod speakers and make some relaxing playlists for your iPod. Labor is much more calm when you are listening to Nick Drake and not the beeps and buzzes of the fetal heart monitor.

Sleep Chic
Bring comfy jammies and slippers. Once you have the baby, you won't want to be stuck laying around in a hospital gown with your a$$ hanging out and you sure as heck won't be donning this season's latest trends. Bring a pair of matching drawstring PJs to wear until you are discharged. Also, the hospital floors you will be roaming around are cold, so bring slippers. I also brought a robe with.

Bring the Boppy
The Boppy is a wonderful thing. It helps you feel more comfortable holding a tiny little newborn. It is also super helpful for those first feedings, whether you do breast or bottle. I brought mine to the hospital and it was awesome to have. I also recommend bringing your own baby blanket. Yes, the hospital provides them, but the ones you picked out are way softer and cuter for pics. Also, bring a zip or button up onesie for the ride home and the car seat.

Formula Mamas
If you don't plan to breastfeed, bring a sports bra and an Ace bandage to wrap your boobs up in. This helps keep your milk from coming in. The hospital bandages are RIDICULOUS. They couldn't hold in a fart, let alone a gigantic set of heaving boobies. So, make sure to invest in a good one and bring it with. Once you are home, I recommend cabbage leave compresses. They stink like hell, but they help (These also help relieve the pain if you breastfeed).

Celebrate being off the Wagon (oh yeah, and the baby)
Bring a bottle of bubbly to celebrate your new-found lack of sobriety and your new life as a family. Once the baby goes to the nursery for the night, pop open the bottle and celebrate your last night of alone time with your hubby and the new vomit-filled journey you are about to embark on. If you can, order in sushi, as well. I already have my order ready to go.

It's ALIVE!

Just for fun, I thought I would post a short vid of My Sponsor making my belly do the wave. Sorry if it grosses you out. Understandable!

Preggo my Eggo Update: 36 weeks down, 4 to go.

Sorry there was no update last week. Things were hectic with Thanksgiving/getting ready for Christmas and I figured y'all were busy trimming your own trees and sh*t.

What I have found since my 34-week update is that 34.5 weeks is officially the time where I was done being f*cking pregnant. I have been coasting through an easy pregnancy this whole time and finally hit a wall. I want my body back. I want to drink alcohol. I want to get up from a sitting position without it sounding like I am giving birth. I want to tie my shoes. I want to see my vagina. Overall, I want to be me again. I think the cause for every woman feeling like this around the 9th month is to make you so willing to get the baby out, that you are no longer scared of actually having a baby. Nature is smart like that.

So what will get me through the next month? Candy Cane Joe Joe's. Oh yeah. Because I just found out they don't contain Red 40 (Don't ask. Stupid ADD daddy and his Master's thesis). I love me some Candy Cane Joe Joe's. I plan to eat about 17 boxes before delivery. Right now I am eating a giant honeybun with white icing from the vending machine. 610 calories well spent in my book.

In related news, if another person comes up to tell me how big I am getting, I might start stabbing people. I just had someone come up and say, "Wow, you are just so big." To which I replied, "Thanks. Because that is just what every girl wants to hear." I might lock myself in my office from here until delivery so I don't have to deliver this baby in prison.

Whoomp! There it is!