A Thankful Heart and an Amazing Announcement

After every storm there comes a rainbow.  This year, Matt and I are thankful for the opportunity to bring Coraline’s brother or sister, our rainbow baby, into the world sometime next summer. :)

Yep - I got my super-duper positive test while we were on our cruise.  So that cut short my boozing and increased my water intake (and subsequent retention).  For those of you who care, yes we planned this and yes we are thrilled/terrified/exhausted/excited and every other emotion in between.

A few preemptive answers to anticipated questions - not that most of my friends and family would ask these, but I’ve been caught off guard before by the unsuspecting stranger (like the jackhole on the cruise).  I felt the need to sort some of these out and come up with snarktastic replies, just in case.

Oh my gosh, you’re pregnant!?  Wow - was this planned?

Are you asking whether we used protection while having consensual sex as married adults in our own home?  Because that’s a pretty invasive question, IMHO.

Is this your first?

No, I have two others - a 10-year-old son and a daughter who was stillborn.

Isn’t it too soon/so long after Coraline?

The timing is right for us, and that’s all that matters.

What are you hoping for?

A healthy baby.  We’ll take a velociraptor, but a healthy baby is ideal.

Aren’t you worried about a repeat of (in hushed tones) last time?

You should be more concerned about my fist repeatedly hitting your face this time.

Are you going to have a baby shower?

No.  We are blessed to have mostly everything we need for a new arrival, with some adjustments after finding out the gender.

Have you picked out any names?

Yes, Archer for a boy and Ingrid for a girl.

Well what about ­________?

No.

Are you sure?  Don’t you like ­­­_________?

No.

You should go with __________.

You should stop talking now.

Are you getting rid of your cats/dogs?

No. They will adjust, and they are part of our family, too.

You should really do (insert old wives pregnancy wisdom).

Thanks, I’ll look into that.  (has no intention of strapping grape leaves to my hands every other Tuesday to relieve RLP)

Are you going to do a water birth/C-section/natural?

Depends on what happens, but I will do whatever it takes to bring a healthy, screaming baby into the world. 

When are you due?

July 4^th.

Oh, born on the Fourth of July!!! How adorable!

Yes, I’m vomiting red, white and blue as a show of patriotism.

I saw an episode of (insert crappy reality medical show here) and that makes me an expert on (insert phase of pregnancy/prenatal care).  Let me give you some advice…

Thanks - I’ve done this twice already.  I’m good.

Oh, you shouldn’t eat that!

Right now, it’s the only thing my body is tolerating.  So piss off unless you want to wear it.

I guess this means you can’t go out drinking…

Yep, also, no more happiness.  Because 9 months is FOREVER and I live for booze. (rolls eyes)


Maybe I just anticipate people will say horrible things because I've experienced it, but I like to be prepared. :)

Invisible handicaps

This past week was amazing - we took our cruise to Mexico, Belize and Isla Roatan.  I got a massage and we sat on the beach drinking rum (well, Matt was) and enjoying the ocean breeze.  It was a great escape from work and responsibility, since we had a couple watching our home and pets and leaving us mostly carefree for a solid week.  Bliss.

Then there was the blind guy.  We chose to dine on “our time”, which meant a different seating arrangement every evening, but no restrictions on time to show up.  One night we end up with an older (50-60s) legally blind gentleman and his wife.  This guy took every opportunity to tell everyone at the table that he was legally blind.  Multiple times.  Even though no one asked.  So he can see shapes and colors but not much beyond that.  

A few days later, we’re in the pool in the adults-only Serenity deck, enjoying the cool water after a long, hot day traipsing around Belize, when Ray Charles shows up.  And begins talking, at great length, about all the places he’s been and things that no one knows but him and his travels and collections and friends and associates because me me me me me I I I I I LOOK AT ME I’M SPECIAL.  Matt and I are comfy and don’t want to get out, so we chat with Me-Monster a bit.

Then he asks the “so ya’ll have kids” question, to which I reply “Yep.  A 10-year-old.  And one on the way.”  And Dickbag goes into a tirade about how we “should have had them at like 3 and 1” or closer together, and “why would you want to have another one now, that’s like starting all over.”  And I’m biting my lip til it bleeds and letting the saltwater from the pool bring even more physical pain to dull the emotional anguish and keep me from punching his detached-retina lights out.  

I explain that Parker is mine, and Matt and I just married 3 years ago.  I explain that our daughter was stillborn last November, to which this incredible asshole, who should know something about the hardships people have to go through, the strange looks and snide comments you get when you have a visible handicap, says to my face “Well, Mother Nature doesn’t make mistakes.”

Excuse the fuck out of me you pretentious prick, but I disrespectfully disagree.

I kindly informed our misinformed co-passenger that my daughter was full-term and perfect.  That it was an accident, and there was nothing wrong with her.  There wasn’t a mistake that “mother nature” felt a need to “correct.”  Matt stepped up and defended her as well.  I wasn’t about to let this guy off the hook without knowing he got his “facts” wrong.  

He then tries to backpedal and makes a comment about “those babies born at like 24 weeks that are like a pound and it’s not right and those kids are never right.”  I’m fuming at this point, looking at my 6-foot, 200+ lb husband who was born prematurely.  According to this guy’s logic, my husband also “wasn’t right” and shouldn’t be here.  I couldn’t even spit out any words without hissing at the guy like a Dilophosaur, so I just said “I’m going to go lay out, now” and removed myself from the pool.

I couldn’t believe this guy was blind in more ways than one.  And yet, underneath my boiling surface, I was actually glad that he was that stupid - because it meant he never had to go through anything like it himself.  He couldn’t possibly understand, and although his words were incredibly insensitive and painful to endure, I’ve endured much, much worse.  I would gladly trade places and be physically blind if it meant I didn’t have the insight I do now, on the other side of loss.