Stories of life in the suburbs with Husband and our daughter Squishy and son Button!

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Wasted Green Bean

When I found out I was pregnant I was recently engaged to my best friend. We lived together in a one bedroom apartment in our home town in suburban Minneapolis. We were a five minute drive from my parents' house and from his parents' house. We are both very independent, however we consider ourselves to be family oriented. My fiance told me that we were always planning on having kids, it's just going to happen a little faster than we planned. That always made me feel better. Hey, doesn't that saying go "if you wait for the perfect time to have kids, then you'll never have kids"?

Certain things came to mind, for instance where were we going to put the baby when it's born? We have just enough room for us and all our crap in this 700 square foot apartment, no extra for even a diaper. And we were going to need diapers, at least, to start raising a kid. That's all you need, right? Diapers...and a toothbrush eventually. Instead of waiting until our lease was done in August (a month before I was due), we opted to transfer and sign a new lease starting in February to a bigger place. This move was planned at the end of January to a 1070 square foot place with one bedroom plus den, and the den is big enough for a 7 year old to live comfortably. It was also in the same building and the same floor as our apartment then. Score! 

Ok, living quarters, check. Next, I needed a doctor's appointment. I should mention now that I get a lot of my medical advice/knowledge from my mother. She has been a labor and delivery nurse for 25 years, is a certified expert in this field, and is looking into being a professional witness also. I wanted to ask her which doctor she wanted me to go to, trouble being that I hadn't told her yet...darn, there's always that catch, isn't there?

How to tell my mother. Hmm...I needed more tact than when I told my sister. We didn't need any tact when we told My Man's parents. They said "Congrats!" and got really excited right away. No problem. How was I going to tell my mother? I needed to tell her in the cover of darkness, or something...

At her house, cleaning green beans next to the sink (the lights were on, unfortunately). One of the dogs was sitting next to me because I must have smelled like impending baby. Ok, just blurt it out!  

Me: "So, we are moving to a bigger place at the end of the month."
Mom: "Oh, why now?"
Me: "And we are getting a room mate 35 weeks. Or so."
*drops green bean and gives me that "mom look" you know the one, picture your mother's mom look now*
Mom: "Are you f***ing kidding me?"

What follows this bit is not my mom's best moment. I'll tell you that she let me know what my options were, and pushed one over the others. This was not my plan, I told her. She stewed for a while and didn't say much. She didn't seem mad, sad, or happy. Just....there. I broke the ice by bringing up medical jargon, maybe she could give me some input. 

Me: "I have an OB appointment with Dr. Baby Catcher (to protect reputations, I won't name him)."
Mom: "Oh, no you don't. He is the worst. You are not seeing him. If I were in labor and he was my doctor I would cross my legs and go somewhere else."

We then had a conversation about hospital bureaucracy that led to me canceling my current appointment and making one with the midwives. An old family friend that has worked with my mom since college (and was present at my birth) was the head of the certified nurse midwives at the hospital where my mom works. Choice made. 

I told my dad straight out when he got home from work and he said "I'm going to be a grandpa by the time I'm 50. When can I start buying diapers?"

At this time my weekly checklist was almost complete. The families, bosses, and friends know I'm expecting. We have an apartment to move in to; I have a midwife appointment; I'm already engaged so there isn't a fear of My Man ditching (there wasn't any to begin with, but the huge rock on my finger helped.) 

And I felt great! I wasn't sick at all! 
You know when you say something and you forget to knock on wood? Puke is in my VERY near future...gross.

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