Knocked Up and Watching TV

Cooper's birth story (Better late than never, right?) part 1

I’ve been meaning to type this up, but having a tiny spidermonkey constantly attached to you makes it difficult to get things done. Who knew? Anyway, I thought it was important to have a record of Cooper’s birth story written down before it all becomes an epidural-induced haze. So here you go:

Saturday, September 27, 2008

I’ve had an easy pregnancy, but my hubris has started to catch up with me. In the last month, I started to develop stretch marks, and my September 23 due date has come and gone. This week has been the most difficult of my entire pregnancy; I’m near hysterics all the time and have begun to believe that I am going to be pregnant for the rest of my life. I literally cannot imagine a time when my belly won’t stick out two feet in front of me, or a time in which I will actually have a baby. This all just seems like a cruel joke.

I’ve been having pretty strong Braxton-Hicks contractions since Thursday, but I refuse to get my hopes up. However, as I’m going to bed, I start to feel dull menstrual-like cramps. They’re mildly annoying at first, but they get to the point that they actually wake me up a few times during the night. I start to think I may be in labor, but the cramps are very far apart, so I just try to get more sleep.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

I wake up at around 7 am. Since I had such trouble sleeping the night before, this means that I’ve only gotten about 5 hours of sleep. I feel something weird, so I go to the bathroom. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure that I just lost my mucus plug. I try to stop myself from getting excited, and go back to my room where Luke is still sleeping. I look in the Mayo Guide and on the internet and discover that while losing your mucus plug could very well mean that you’re going into labor, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you should get to the hospital, as the baby could still be days away. I hate everything.

I continue to search on the internet, trying to find something that says, “Kona Gallagher: your baby is on his way. Get Luke up and go to the hospital, now.”

I do not find anything that says this.

Around 9 or so, Luke wakes up and asks what I’m doing. I tell him not to get too excited, but there’s a chance I may be in labor. He asks me how far apart my contractions are and I tell him between 8 and 11 minutes. He is not impressed. We both start our days.

I’m still not trying to get too excited, but I’m timing my contractions on contractionmaster.com and trying to will them to get closer together. As you may or may not know, the general rule of thumb is that contractions have to be four minutes apart, last for a minute and continue for at least an hour (4-1-1) before it’s time to call the doctor. My contractions were doing the 1 and the 1, but weren’t anywhere close to the 4. Still, I figured it would be a good idea to kind of prepare—so I started scrubbing out the tub.

I wasn’t planning on having some sort of awkward hippie home-birth or anything. I just wanted to make sure that the house was clean for when family came, so I scrubbed and vacuumed and Swiffered my little heart out.

I also thought it would be important to prepare for the actual hospital stay itself, in which I probably wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep much, so I made myself breakfast and took a nap. After my nap, I was craving curly fries like whoa, so I tried to convince Luke to take me somewhere to get them.

It was during this conversation that I mentioned that in addition to my contractions, I’ve been leaking. Now, discharge after losing your mucus plug is normal (the internet told me so) but this seemed watery. I thought there was a chance my water had not broken, but sprung a leak.

Luke told me to call the doctor.

It's the start of the fall season

The fall season is starting, so that means more recaps. I’m already recapping Project Runway over at Cinema Blend, so be sure to check that out if you haven’t already. I’ll be recapping Kitchen Nightmares when that premieres, and tonight I start recapping Gossip Girl, which is premiering in about 15 minutes.

If that’s not CW-y enough for you, I’ll also be covering America’s Next Top Model over at TV Squad.

Oh, shit.

Ever since I was 20 weeks, the doctors have been measuring my fundal height. I’ve consistantly been measuring between 1 and 3 weeks ahead. I got measured yesterday, and I’m still measuring at 3 weeks ahead, so they’re sending me in for another ultrasound next week. Why? because there’s a good chance I could be giving birth to a GIANT MUTANT BABY.

Seriously. I’m pretty sure it’s Will Ferrel with a beer and a cigarette in there.

The pregnancy story no one wants to hear

During my first trimester, I picked up The Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy. I was terrified of what to expect, and had heard that this book gives “the real story” of what actually happens when you’re pregnant. I read it and immediately stocked up on TUMS and prepared for my ankles to swell up to roughly the size of my neck. I braced myself for sneaking down to the fridge at 2 am and pulling over to the side of the road to pee during long car trips. I waited for these things… and nothing happened.

My pregnancy experience hasn’t been like the tales I’ve read about in books and on the internet. It’s been…remarkably uneventful. I realized though, that no one wants to hear about that. People want to hear about how awful it is, whether it’s a simple case of schadenfreude or wanting to feel like a martyr.

But here’s the thing: Yes, the emotional aspects of pregnancy are tough and I have been more than affected by them. As far as everything else goes? It hasn’t been that bad. Here’s a list of things people don’t want to hear about:

• Although I did occasionally feel nauseated, I never threw up.
• I don’t waddle and still walk faster than most of the assholes in the Financial District.
• I’m due in 6 1/2 weeks and have only gained 18 lbs. despite the fact that I eat at Chipotle almost daily.
• My feet are the same size they were before I got pregnant
• I rarely get heartburn and have barely touched the jumbo tub of TUMS I purchased.
• my ankles are not swollen.
• I pee a lot during the day, but I also drink a crap-ton of water at work.
• I sleep during the night and rarely get up to use the bathroom and never get up to eat.
• I don’t have stretch marks.

I don’t know how labor and delivery are going to go, and I’m still terrified at the prospect of actually having a kid, but dammit. I’m good at being pregnant.

Things that bother me about Lost that no one else gives a crap about #2

The fact that Sun looks like this after giving birth like, a week ago.

Oh, Sun.

Things that bother me about Lost that no one else gives a crap about #1

Are Sawyer’s legs hideously disfigured? Is he a never-nude? If not, can you explain to me why he never takes his pants off when swimming? In last night’s finale, Sawyer jumped out of a helicopter into the middle of the ocean and swam back to the island. Along the way, he managed to lose his shirt, but chose not to lose the jeans. Fact: wet jeans suck. This makes no sense to me.

Even when Sawyer’s judgement isn’t colored by the fact that he may die, he still doesn’t remove the jeans. Not even during a leisurely swim with Kate in Season 1.

Kate takes off her pants. What gives, Sawyer?

Dave’s theory is that he goes commando, so he wants to respect those around him. I call bullshit. You know season 1 Sawyer would have shown Kate his wang, especially if he had an excuse like this.