Mighty Life List
Jan 4 2007

Pregnancy Doesn’t Suck, Part 1

Wake at 3 a.m. to realize that 3 a.m. is a ridiculous time to be asleep. Draw a bath, shed your nightgown, and soak weightless in the tub. Read the latest New Yorker from cover to cover in absolute silence.

Plug the overflow drain with a washcloth, so the warm water covers your belly and laps against the nape of your neck. When your toes get wrinkly, dry yourself off and turn on a dim light in the living room. Have a cup of tea and a small slice of rosemary cake. Fall asleep on the couch.

Jan 3 2007


There’s something so Karmicly satisfying about this story:

Oops! Unruly flier slaps undercover air marshal

In other news, my return of morning sickness turned out to be an extremely nasty but short-lived bug (food poisoning?). Never has recovering from a flu been a more blissful experience. Thank you all for your good wishes and commiserations. Edith Meyer even sent a delicious little rosemary cake! How lucky do you have to be to have people send you cake when you’re cranky? When does that ever happen? Also, her handwriting was so good that I almost ate the note too.

I’ve decided that I need to put together a little compendium of lovely things about being pregnant to balance my bitching. Forthcoming.

Dec 28 2006

Who’s Complaining? Oh Wait, It’s Me.

So say you’re about eight months pregnant and things have reached the back-aching, no sleeping, shallow breathing stage.

Now, suppose you come down with a sinus infection that halves your already meager amount of sleep and energy. Then say that the copious nose blowing creates a large cut in one nostril. This cut becomes infected and swells into a nostril cyst. (A visible, dead sexy, nostril cyst.) Huh. Is that a cold sore coming on? It is.

You suffer through through three weeks of swollen feet, stopped-up nose, dry mouth, painful nostril swelling, burgeoning cold sore, and then one morning, you wake up feeling better. You’ve had almost a full night’s sleep, you can imagine a day when you’ll breathe through your nose again, the cut is healing, the cold sore has subsided, you can almost hear Julie Andrews singing through the window.

That night, your long-gone morning sickness returns in full force.

Kiddo, you’d better be pretty effing cute.

Dec 25 2006


The kid already has me awake at 5:30 a.m. on Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas, everyone. I encourage you to have cookies for breakfast today.

Nov 29 2006

My Lovely Lady Lumps

Today I ordered an S-Factor DVD, as pregnant stripping is wildly hilarious.

Nov 17 2006

The Labor Party

I’m one of those women who strongly considered adopting because I was so afraid of labor. A month or two after I got pregnant, I had a two-week period of complete freak out and sent this note to a girlfriend:

“Last night I had a mini breakdown and decided that I definitely do not want to push a baby out my vagina. I want even less to have major abdominal surgery. I do not want to feed another human being with my boobs. Also, I will not be pushing a baby out of my vagina. I cannot imagine what my boobs are going to look like after this, let alone my ass. I have never felt less sexy. Also, my vagina is very small. I do want to be a parent, but don’t really want to be a mom. Also, I will not be pushing a baby out of my vagina. No.”

I was irrationally, but seriously, trying to think of other ways to get the baby out of my body. Intense meditation? Osmosis? Teleportation device? How ’bout it, science?

Anyway, I’m OK now. The panic eventually subsided as I made a conscious decision to stop playing Worst Case Scenario. I refused to read anything having to do with labor and related complications, and began screaming, “Only happy stories, please! Only happy stories, please!” when mothers tried to share their graphic labor survival stories.

This was unfortunately necessary, because when you’re pregnant, conversation in a group of women goes like this:

Me: I’m freaking out about labor.

Susie: Don’t worry, you’ll be fine! Just fine! God, I hated being pregnant, though. I was on seven months of bed rest vomiting into a pan.

Lisa: Really? (Pulls air in through teeth.) Yeah, I threw up every single day. Twice. And, hello? Jacob was 11 pounds. I was in labor for 46 hours. They really should have given me a C-section, I was pretty ripped up afterwards.

Gina: And then you’re just praying that you’ll never have to poop again because the thought is so terrifying. My first bowel movement was practically as painful as giving birth. I was so afraid the stitches would pop right out!

Cut to me keening and desperately trying to place my head between my knees, despite the watermelon sized belly impeding my ability to do so.

Susie: Oh, honey! I’m sure you’ll be fine.

Lisa: You’ll be fiiiine. You’re going natural, aren’t you?

Gina: Oh, yeah. You have to go natural.

Nov 12 2006

Oh, the Wonder

Why I avoid researching exactly what’s happening inside my body:

-The baby is excreting urine inside me.
-All babies are born with big boobs from absorbing so much of your hormones.
-Some female babies are born menstruating for the same reason.

Magical, no? Magical.