True friends help you give birth - Part III

For the rest of my pregnancy I didn't see much of Jen. We got together once to discuss my birth plan but that was about it. (This was the first time I met Jen's daughter who has since charmed me to such a degree that I have become convinced that that she and Joseph will need to get married some day. Or she can marry Elle. Whatever, I'm open minded. I just want her for my daughter-in-law.)

They day before Little A was born I was at my regular 38 week check-up with my ob. My doctor made my year when he said he would induce me the next day. I was so excited! The next day was Jen's day off at the clinic. She would be able to be there for the birth. Our we'll-make-it-work-if-we-can plan had worked. As I was leaving the exam room I ran into Jen's nurse in the hallway. I snagged her and told her the news and we squealed and jumped up and down. She went and grabbed Jen and then the three of us squealed and jumped up and down.

Jesse and I headed to the hospital early the next morning. Jen arrived shortly after I was hooked up to the pitocin. The three of us played cards for a while until the contractions made it too hard for me to pay attention. (My birth story is here if anyone is interested. Don't worry, I'm not going to bore you with every detail of it all over again.)

Once the contractions really got painful Jen became my rock. Oh, don't get me wrong. It was wonderful having Jesse there too but it was different with Jen. Maybe because she had been a doula before, maybe because she's a woman who has given birth. All I know is that she always seemed to know exactly what I needed. My back rubbed, my hand held, something comforting and reassuring said. She didn't leave my side for the entire 10 hours or so that I was in labor. When I was pushing a started to panic a little bit she talked me through it. I really credit Jen with letting me have the kind of birth experience that I really wanted.

Immediately after Little A was born I laid back in the hospital bed. I was overwhelmed by emotions. I felt so happy and satisfied and proud and relieved and awed. I looked up at Jen (who was still standing right by me holding my and) and I felt a sudden rush of sadness. I thought "Here's this amazing person that's come into my life and given me an incredible amount of love and support and this short, intense period and now I'm not going to be able to see her anymore. Now that her job is done, our relationship is done too."

Almost as soon as that thought crossed my mind I felt Jen give my hand a squeeze. She leaned over, looked me right in the eye and said "This is not over. You and I are not over." Through gulped back sobs I agreed. Yes, we would be friends beyond that day.

And that's exactly what we've done. We've only gotten closer since Little A was born. We talk all the time, we text constantly. We watch each others kids and get our families together for game nights. She has me over to her house for baked goods after old woman scar me and I buy her fake spider webs at the craft store. We have laughed together and cried together and gotten drunk together. She has seen me at my best and at my worst. She puts up with my mood swings and neediness and neurosis and I put up with her ........ I don't' know. I don't have to put up with much. I guess I tolerate her love for brewing beer. There's not much we don't know about each other but we each accept the other for what we are without judgement or condition. Hell, she's seen me naked and even that didn't send her screaming for the hills.

I know I sometimes complain about not having enough friends but I need to try to remind myself of all that I've actually got. I several family members that I am very close to, some of whom even feel like sisters to me. My brother, in spite of being surly and curmudgeonly, is always there for me. I have a few good blog-friends who have enriched my life in ways I would not have imagined possible back when I started this blog.

And I have Jen. I was looking for a friend like her for a long time and instead of finding someone like her, I found her. I am very, very lucky.

One year ago today I mooned a bus full of people.
Three years ago today my blog had a guest poster.
Four years ago today I continued my obsession with pooping while giving birth. This this time with a twist.

True friends help you give birth - Part II

When I was pregnant with Elle I woke up one morning unable to hear out of either ear. "Oh no!" I rationally thought. "I have pregnancy induced deafness!" I made a quick trip to the doctor where I was schooled on how pregnancy can't make you deaf but it can cause huge amounts of wax to build up in your ears which is gross and weird but not nearly as dramatic as what I had imagined.

I was older and wiser when I was pregnant with Little A so I was not too terribly worried when I woke up one morning and found myself unable to hear anything. I was just glad it happened on a day when I had a regular pre-natal check up scheduled.

When I got to the doctor's office I waited and waited and waited to be seen. Finally a nurse came out to the waiting room to tell me the doctor was running behind and would I mind seeing Jen instead? I eagerly replied "JEN?!?! I LOVE JEN!! THAT WOULD BE GREAT!!" (Because when you can't hear anyone you start to think they can't hear you either unless you are very, very loud.)

The nurse gave me a smile that said "Its my job to be compassionate and caring but I'm glad I don't have to deal with you anymore because your reaction freaked me out a little bit" and had me sit back down in the waiting room.

Moments later Jen's nurse came to bring me to an exam room. Here's the funny thing about Jen's nurse. She and I actually used to work together before Jesse and I were married and we were pretty friendly. We hadn't seen each other in years and it was lots of fun catching up. And by catching up I mean I screamed at her about my waxy ears and she marveled over exactly how huge my ass gets when I'm pregnant.

When Jen came into the room we hugged and then I yelled at her about my waxy ears. Considering how much I had liked Jen the first time I met her this wasn't exactly the second impression I wanted to make. "I was so glad to have made your acquaintance! I am gross and produce excess excretions!" Jen was cool as a cucumber though. She didn't even flinch, just set about trying to clean my ears out.

Only she couldn't do it. And if you want to feel awesome try having ears so waxy that even a trained medical professional can't get them clean. "I'm going to get my nurse." Jen muttered.

If you want to feel really awesome have someone you used to be friends with but have not seen for years weigh you and then hold a cup of your pee in their hands. Then have them try to clean out your blocked ears. There is no way to look or feel when cool when you have two people trying to dislodge wax from your ears. (In the interest of full disclosure I have to say that at one point another nurse was called in to consult on the situation. I wish I was kidding.)

At this point I was nearly in tears. Jen and her nurse were being great about the whole thing but I really don't like the center of attention like that. Especially when the reason for all the attention is that my body's byproducts have super-glue powers.

I did what I always do when I am in awkward situations. I joked. Badly. "Haha!" I chuckled weakly to the nurse. "Aren't you glad we get to see each other again? You're learning all kinds of new things about me!"

And to Jen "Who else can you bring in to help that I know? My husbands boss? My old daycare lady? That boy I had a crush on in 4th grade?"

And without missing a beat Jen replied "No, we're going to have him come in for your first cervical check."

And in that instant I knew that I didn't just want Jen to be my doula. I wanted her to be my friend. It's not often that you meet someone who can make you laugh, really laugh, while someone is standing next to you squirting water into your ear to create a kind of earwax soup. And when you do meet a person like that? You find a way to hang onto them.

We all know that friend making is not my strong suit though. It would be several more months until I really felt like Jen and I had become real friends. And all it took was for me to squeeze a person out of my body.

Four years ago today I thought Elle was a boy.

True friends help you give birth - Part I

I have talked about my friend Jen very briefly before on blog but I want to talk about her a little more today. I figure I should balance out some of the whining about not having friends with a story celebrating one of the really amazing friends that I do have.

Jen and I met by accident. She's a nurse midwife at the clinic I had all my pre-natal stuff done at when I was pregnant with Little A. During this time I had been searching for a doula to be there during the birth but I had not been having any luck finding one. In fact, I had even asked at the clinic where Jen works if they knew of any and the people I asked had just given me a blank stare. It's a pretty good bet that if a person has no idea what the word you just used means, they're not going to be able to help too much.

One day my ob was running really behind on appointments and I was asked if I would be willing to see a nurse midwife in his place. At that point I would have seen a janitor if it would have gotten me out of there faster so I agreed. I have to admit that when I heard the word "midwife" I was expecting to see someone who looked like this so I was a little surprised when instead this young, sassy looking redhead walked in. I liked her right away.

Anyone who knows me knows I am a talker and a sharer. Give me two minutes and I've give you my life story. That is, if I know you. If we've just met I'm more likely to stare at you in panic and terror if you try to talk to me. I'm really not so good at meeting new people. Right away though there was something about Jen that made me feel at ease. Two minutes after she walked into the room I was spilling my guts all over the place. I was telling her the sort of stuff that I don't even put on this blog and you know that's got to be personal because, um, hello?

The best part of the conversation came when I told Jen I was having a hard time finding a doula. She was pretty irritated that I was having such a hard time finding someone. Err, not irritated at me, irritated at the people who had refused to help me because I was having a child for a gay couple. See, before Jen became a nurse midwife she was a doula so she understood what an important role a doula can play in a birth. She told me about some places I might have more luck finding a doula and then, to top it all off, gave me her number at the clinic to call in case I needed more help.

Her number. Haha. She didn't know this at the time but I don't call people. Not people I don't know. I won't even call to order a pizza. As I walked out of the clinic that day I held her phone number in my hand and thought to myself "Man, I wish I could have her as my doula." I thought about it all that day and all of the next. Then I did something I never do. I picked up the phone and I called her.

Imagine my surprise and delight when she said that not only would she love to be my doula but that when I left the clinic that day she had been thinking "I wish I could be her doula."

And so it was set. We agreed that she would be my doula ..... if I gave birth while she was not at work. That was ok with me though. I was just happy that there was a chance she would be there. I was happy I had found someone I had clicked with so well. What I didn't know at the time was that the next time I would see Jen, things would not have as happy an outcome.

One year ago today I answered some questions about surrogacy.
Four years ago today I was still worried about pooping while giving birth.

Not buying it

That show on VH1, The Pick-Up Artist. People actually watch that show? Like, on purpose? And this Mystery guy. Women actually sleep with him? On purpose?

I'm sorry, I fail to see how either of those things can be true.

I have a strong desire to meet this Mystery guy. I would like for him to try to pick me up just so that I could laugh at him. Then I would like for him to walk away from me a sad and broken man because all his tricks failed to woo a chubby midwestern housewife. And then I would like for him to realize that he's not nearly as awesome as he thinks he is so he goes home and backs out of his stupid show and the show has to be cancelled and everyone who looks up to him realizes what a loser he is and no one ever hears from him again ever. That's what I want. Is that so much to ask?

To cleanse myself of thoughts of that horrid, horrid little man and his horrid, horrid little show, here is a video of my friend Jen singing at a coffee shop. Jen is amazing. In addition to brewing beer and birthing babies (she was my doula) she writes and sings her own music. She's probably pretty handy with a skill saw too.

A day at the fair (complete with hot sex)

Yesterday my family and my friend Jen's family got together and drove out to the local county fair. It was a day filled with greasy food, people watching, animal poop and overpriced and rickety rides. Here are some highlights.

We couldn't resist stopping in the "Conservation" building. The sign is what drew us in.

Next we stopped for a little while to watch the Old People Trio do a rocking version of "In Heaven There Is No Beer". The crowd went wild. Well, this one little girl did. It was pretty cute.

After that we stopped in the horse barn to see the horses. Look! Janessa is "showen" Oreo. There were about a dozen of these carefully made, glittery, misspelled signs on various horse stalls. I was a little embarrassed for their maker but then I started to wonder if maybe "showen" is some sort of fair lingo that I just don't know about. Anyone know?

Next we went to look at some smaller animals. Look at these cute little baby chicks! I wonder what the ideal home for baby chicks is?

Why a popcorn popper of course! This conjured up all sorts of funny images in my head that I won't even go into because I don't want people to think I'm weird. The fact that I wanted to drizzle melted butter all over these little guys means nothing ok?

On to the deformed animal exhibit! We all enjoyed seeing the stuffed two headed calf and it's .... commemorative plaque? Actually I think we were all a little weirded out. Except Joseph who gleefully sang "Old McDonald had a farm e-i-e-i-o! And on that farm he had a two headed cow e-i-e-i-o! With a moo-moo moo-moo here and and moo-moo moo-moo there!"

Next half of our group went into the cow barn and half of us stayed out to watch the "Oh my god I'm never eating beef or drinking milk again" exhibit. This cow was getting her hooves filed down and not only did it look really uncomfortable there were also huge shards of hoof flying out into the crowd. I think one got in my eye.

Luckily my eyesight was not affected by the big sliver of cow foot in my eye so I was able to enjoy the art exhibit. Trent won second place with his portrait of Justin Timberlake. I was impressed

Finally we moved on to the carnival portion of the fair where we got to see some red hot doggie style sex. And no Mr Carnie, just because I'm taking a picture of them doesn't mean I want to try to win one of your obscene stuffed animals.

How do you know it's time to leave the fair? When you start to whine and pout when you're not allowed to play with the giant box of electricity.

All in all a good day. I just wish I had gotten a picture of the deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich I got. That thing was better than red hot doggie style sex.

I love the fair.