(Today's title change is for you, Egghunt.)
For heaven's sake, can't a girl express a little gratitude without everyone thinking she's HAPPY? I have a reputation for pessimism and snarkiness to protect. In fact, Friday I had a department meeting that left me fuming with rage (my colleagues are such jackasses, and when I try to divert their jack-assery, I just end up being a jackass too) and hating my job, and I felt like shit all weekend and snarled at my husband and didn't get the ironing done. SO THERE! (But I suppose you guys will see through this pathetic pretense, because it's true that, globally, I am happier than I've been in a super long time. It's just that there's a heavy layer of real life on top of that happiness.)
Anyway, I wanted to share an awesome dream I had last night in which some stupid, insipid woman showed me her positive pregnancy test (it was a new-fangled design with a huge happy face and like pink and blue balloons on it) and I hurled it across the room in horror and disgust. Just so you know I am still a hater.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
This job ain't so bad
Yesterday I met with my Department Chair to reveal the existence of ye old fetus. He stared at my belly, with an expression of obvious astonishment that there could be anything in there. (Yeah, I'm not showing. But I swear it's not an elaborate ruse to get a reduced workload.) The meeting was totally fine. One of the glorious things about academia is that there are clear policies about all this shit, and, because a university is supposed to be a sensitive, family friendly place, they pretty much have to be nice to me. But there is bureaucracy. I got to draft a little letter to go up to the Dean. Here's how it reads.
In accordance with Section II.E of the faculty handbook, I am requesting workload release from teaching and service duties for the Fall semester of 2011. I expect to give birth in May of 2011. I will be the primary care-giving parent of this child.
Isn't that romantic? Nothing says bundle of joy like quoting Section II.E of the faculty handbook. But I have been experiencing a renewed sense of gratitude for my job. Partly because one of my students recently asked me when I decided I wanted to be a professor. I was fifteen. And I made it happen. If you know anything about academia, you know that's not easy. I'm very lucky. And partly because I've been doing real work this week (as per my resolution), which has begun to remind me ever so vaguely of a time when I loved my research. And partly because I've been experiencing a renewed sense of gratitude for EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD. Okay, except poverty, and hunger, and oatmeal (blech!), but all the other stuff.
In accordance with Section II.E of the faculty handbook, I am requesting workload release from teaching and service duties for the Fall semester of 2011. I expect to give birth in May of 2011. I will be the primary care-giving parent of this child.
Isn't that romantic? Nothing says bundle of joy like quoting Section II.E of the faculty handbook. But I have been experiencing a renewed sense of gratitude for my job. Partly because one of my students recently asked me when I decided I wanted to be a professor. I was fifteen. And I made it happen. If you know anything about academia, you know that's not easy. I'm very lucky. And partly because I've been doing real work this week (as per my resolution), which has begun to remind me ever so vaguely of a time when I loved my research. And partly because I've been experiencing a renewed sense of gratitude for EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD. Okay, except poverty, and hunger, and oatmeal (blech!), but all the other stuff.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Caution: Wheat-related post
So if you're not up for reading about hot, delicious, buttery rolls, click away.
Mr. Bunny has been doing a lot of baking lately. Last night he made rolls. You see, an important part of my Thanksgiving tradition is those nasty brown-and-serve rolls you get from the supermarket. But much as I love their amazing softness, I'm a little horrified by the 5,000 word ingredient list. So this was our first effort to make our own, a sort of test run for Thanksgiving. And they were perfect. Little bites of heaven, slathered with oodles butter. We had them with my delicious cream of spinach soup, and I probably ate about three hundred. Okay, wheat part over, the rest will be about babies.
I'm 14 weeks today. No matter how you count, this is definitely the second trimester. Morning sickness is OVAH! And I do have slightly more energy, but it's hard to say whether this is biological or psychological. It takes a lot of cognitive effort to worry about miscarrying. And sure, I still spend some of my time on that each day, but...less. And I'm more willing to do things that presuppose this will work and might seem hubristic and invite the Fates to punish me. For example, tomorrow I am giving a lecture on cognitive development. I begin with brain development in utero. And how could I not include a picture of my very own fetus's brain? I mean, I'm not going to be like HEY CLASS THIS BRAIN IS CURRENTLY RIGHT HERE IN MY UTE! LET'S TALK ABOUT MY VAGINA NEXT! but I can't resist casually pointing to a picture of "a thirteen week old fetus" and noting the lumpen little brain. Because every time I've given that lecture over the past five years, I've dreamed of getting to use video of my own child to illustrate certain things, like object permanence and conservation. So instead of feeling sad this year, I plan to have a little nugget of joy all up in there. God willing, this is where Bun Bun's exploitation in the name of education all starts.
Mr. Bunny has been doing a lot of baking lately. Last night he made rolls. You see, an important part of my Thanksgiving tradition is those nasty brown-and-serve rolls you get from the supermarket. But much as I love their amazing softness, I'm a little horrified by the 5,000 word ingredient list. So this was our first effort to make our own, a sort of test run for Thanksgiving. And they were perfect. Little bites of heaven, slathered with oodles butter. We had them with my delicious cream of spinach soup, and I probably ate about three hundred. Okay, wheat part over, the rest will be about babies.
I'm 14 weeks today. No matter how you count, this is definitely the second trimester. Morning sickness is OVAH! And I do have slightly more energy, but it's hard to say whether this is biological or psychological. It takes a lot of cognitive effort to worry about miscarrying. And sure, I still spend some of my time on that each day, but...less. And I'm more willing to do things that presuppose this will work and might seem hubristic and invite the Fates to punish me. For example, tomorrow I am giving a lecture on cognitive development. I begin with brain development in utero. And how could I not include a picture of my very own fetus's brain? I mean, I'm not going to be like HEY CLASS THIS BRAIN IS CURRENTLY RIGHT HERE IN MY UTE! LET'S TALK ABOUT MY VAGINA NEXT! but I can't resist casually pointing to a picture of "a thirteen week old fetus" and noting the lumpen little brain. Because every time I've given that lecture over the past five years, I've dreamed of getting to use video of my own child to illustrate certain things, like object permanence and conservation. So instead of feeling sad this year, I plan to have a little nugget of joy all up in there. God willing, this is where Bun Bun's exploitation in the name of education all starts.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Daylight Saving Time Resolution!
I'm always on the lookout for opportunities to make resolutions about how I'm going to get my shit together in some area or become a better person, and hey! Daylight Saving Time ended this week. The perfect opportunity for a resolution. Of course my resolutions all fail. Expect...I do floss my teeth now. But that's about a 1/1,000,000,000 success rate. And yet if one does not persevere, how can one ever succeed? So this latest resolution was as follows: I resolved to do some actual fucking work pretty much every day so that I can save my floundering career. I'm coming up for tenure, and my file has to be ready by August. Before August, I need to get a couple of grant proposals out, and I should really have at least four papers in the pipeline. I currently have zero grants applications planned, and one paper in the pipeline. So...work to be done! Today I succeeded in my resolution. I probably do not deserve any medals just yet, but thank you.
Stuff about my fetus. (1) A bit ago I had some mild but scary cramps. The scariness comes from the fact that they were entirely new and different. Damn, this shit is precarious. (2) This weekend was the big reveal to the family. Mr. Bunny told his mother. She was gratifyingly excited, and when I spoke to her, said (among many other things) that she was so grateful to me for getting pregnant so she can become a grandmother. This would be an awful thing to say, except for the fact that she has never ever said a word to me about being impatient or wanting to know what the hold-up was. Mr. Bunny told his father. He was apparently not very excited. Whatever--he's a bit odd. I told my mother. She only said one horrible thing that made me want to hang up the phone. I told my older brother. He was excited, but cautious. His wife had a miscarriage, and so he said things like, that would be so cool. I get the caution. I FEEL the caution. But I also think that would be so cool is slightly more hypothetical than is really necessary. I imagined telling my dead father and cried. I told my little brother. He was like whatevs, I'm 24! What do I care! But in a nice way. So that's done. *Dusts hands* (3) Finally, we went to Crate and Barrel to buy some article of cookware, and while I was there, I looked at their selection of gliders/rockers. I sat down in one to test its comfyness, and tears immediately started flowing. Please let Bun Bun make it.
Stuff about my fetus. (1) A bit ago I had some mild but scary cramps. The scariness comes from the fact that they were entirely new and different. Damn, this shit is precarious. (2) This weekend was the big reveal to the family. Mr. Bunny told his mother. She was gratifyingly excited, and when I spoke to her, said (among many other things) that she was so grateful to me for getting pregnant so she can become a grandmother. This would be an awful thing to say, except for the fact that she has never ever said a word to me about being impatient or wanting to know what the hold-up was. Mr. Bunny told his father. He was apparently not very excited. Whatever--he's a bit odd. I told my mother. She only said one horrible thing that made me want to hang up the phone. I told my older brother. He was excited, but cautious. His wife had a miscarriage, and so he said things like, that would be so cool. I get the caution. I FEEL the caution. But I also think that would be so cool is slightly more hypothetical than is really necessary. I imagined telling my dead father and cried. I told my little brother. He was like whatevs, I'm 24! What do I care! But in a nice way. So that's done. *Dusts hands* (3) Finally, we went to Crate and Barrel to buy some article of cookware, and while I was there, I looked at their selection of gliders/rockers. I sat down in one to test its comfyness, and tears immediately started flowing. Please let Bun Bun make it.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Fetus A-Okay, and...Viking Rune Candle Lady Baby
This is the kind of post that used to make me bawl with sorrow and desperation, just a few months ago. I'd read it because I cared about the person, but I'd know I'd better close my office door and get out the tissues. I'd sob and sob, and then I'd recover. Now it's my turn to break your little hearts! Sweeeeet! No, for serious, you don't have to read this. I'll never know.
This morning was my NT scan, or ultrascreen, as the kids say. That shit was pretty mind blowing. First, we got to go to the classy ultrasound room, the one with a big screen and a vastly less clinical feeling. Second, the tech told me to sit down on the table. I was like, with my CLOTHES ON? I mean, dude, I didn't even have to take my SHOES off! It felt a lot like walking into the living room of someone who selected all white carpeting. Then I had an ultrasound FROM THE OUTSIDE. Like in the movies. And then I got to see my fetus. There's one little picture on Bun Bun's page, but I wish I could keep the memory of the experience crystal clear. All these little bits of amazing anatomy flashing by... Spine! Hands! Feet! Cerebellum! Heart! Little beating heart! I have to say the part that really got me was an axial view of Bun Bun's brain. TWO hemispheres, people. And plenty of room for the frontal lobes to expand. I really wish I'd gotten a keepsake picture of that, but I'll just have to treasure the memory. Anyway, all extremities present, heart beating away at a great rate, measurements perfect. I won't know for a week or more what the test results are, but my plan is to not worry. And we all know plans work flawlessly.
But on to part two. The Viking Rune Candle Family is in town this week and came over for dinner last night. I got to meet Viking Rune Candle Lady Baby. (I know, he'll get no end of shit at school for THAT name.) Because I have so few friends with babies (one), it was awfully nice to just fucking talk about babies with someone with whom I have ZERO baggage. She also told me that her life has pretty much transformed from sad to happy. How she used to just drag herself through the days, and now every day is a fucking treasure. Yeah, I puked a little, too, but if anyone is in a place where she'd be able to draw comfort from an RPL success story, there you have it.
This morning was my NT scan, or ultrascreen, as the kids say. That shit was pretty mind blowing. First, we got to go to the classy ultrasound room, the one with a big screen and a vastly less clinical feeling. Second, the tech told me to sit down on the table. I was like, with my CLOTHES ON? I mean, dude, I didn't even have to take my SHOES off! It felt a lot like walking into the living room of someone who selected all white carpeting. Then I had an ultrasound FROM THE OUTSIDE. Like in the movies. And then I got to see my fetus. There's one little picture on Bun Bun's page, but I wish I could keep the memory of the experience crystal clear. All these little bits of amazing anatomy flashing by... Spine! Hands! Feet! Cerebellum! Heart! Little beating heart! I have to say the part that really got me was an axial view of Bun Bun's brain. TWO hemispheres, people. And plenty of room for the frontal lobes to expand. I really wish I'd gotten a keepsake picture of that, but I'll just have to treasure the memory. Anyway, all extremities present, heart beating away at a great rate, measurements perfect. I won't know for a week or more what the test results are, but my plan is to not worry. And we all know plans work flawlessly.
But on to part two. The Viking Rune Candle Family is in town this week and came over for dinner last night. I got to meet Viking Rune Candle Lady Baby. (I know, he'll get no end of shit at school for THAT name.) Because I have so few friends with babies (one), it was awfully nice to just fucking talk about babies with someone with whom I have ZERO baggage. She also told me that her life has pretty much transformed from sad to happy. How she used to just drag herself through the days, and now every day is a fucking treasure. Yeah, I puked a little, too, but if anyone is in a place where she'd be able to draw comfort from an RPL success story, there you have it.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Thrilling tidbits! Getcher hot, thrilling tidbits right here!
Most important item first: I busted out the BIG COAT this morning. It's an ankle length down coat, and keeps me warm and snugly all winter long, as I wade through waist-deep snow. Some might mock me for wearing such an extreme coat so early in the year, but while they're mocking, I'll be cozy. Suck it, mockers.
I have a due date now. May 11th. That should work out nicely in terms of getting my grades in before having my uterus cut open. I know. I talked about having a baby as if it's actually going to happen. I'm practicing.
My new OB was totally fine, and who really cares as long as she's not overtly freaky. I don't seem to need a whole lotta hand holding, perhaps because I'm so fucking sick of doctors. But she said one thing that earned her a place in my heart: Brisk walking is the perfect exercise for pregnant ladies. HOT DAMN! Music to my ears. Now don't you pregnant exercise buffs get all up in arms about this. She also gave me the speech about how other kinds of exercise are totally safe, etc. But we're focusing on the part where she said that the thing I do every day as part of my routine, and enjoy doing, is perfect. Aaaaah!
I've scheduled a meeting next week with my Department Chair. The purpose of which is to tell him about this fetus. Gulp!
I have a due date now. May 11th. That should work out nicely in terms of getting my grades in before having my uterus cut open. I know. I talked about having a baby as if it's actually going to happen. I'm practicing.
My new OB was totally fine, and who really cares as long as she's not overtly freaky. I don't seem to need a whole lotta hand holding, perhaps because I'm so fucking sick of doctors. But she said one thing that earned her a place in my heart: Brisk walking is the perfect exercise for pregnant ladies. HOT DAMN! Music to my ears. Now don't you pregnant exercise buffs get all up in arms about this. She also gave me the speech about how other kinds of exercise are totally safe, etc. But we're focusing on the part where she said that the thing I do every day as part of my routine, and enjoy doing, is perfect. Aaaaah!
I've scheduled a meeting next week with my Department Chair. The purpose of which is to tell him about this fetus. Gulp!
Monday, November 1, 2010
Heart still a'beatin'!
That's right, y'all, my fetus is still alive. I had my first OB appointment, and it was pretty pointless. Except for the 30 seconds of doppler, when we got to hear that magic shoop shoop shoop! There were also some delightful noises that apparently indicate movement, a sort of pinging sound. Wow. Then Mr. Bunny had to rush off to catch a plane and I got to do super sexy stuff like PAP SMEAR! FLU SHOT! LISTEN TO A BUNCH OF STUFF I ALREADY KNOW! RECEIVE AN INFO PACKET I'VE ALREADY RECEIVED, and that consists mainly of little "magazines" that are 99% advertisement and 1% inane bullshit. I ditched those in the exam room. Fuck you, beatifically smiling pregnant ladies advising me to buy pampers.
Uh, anyway, I was initially heartbroken to not get an ultrasound. I mean, why would they not give me a damn ultrasound? WHAT ARE THEY THINKING?!?! But I scheduled one this Friday for the NT test, and, for once, I won't even be (too terribly) worried. I mean, what's the probability that Bun Bun will die between now and Friday? Low.
On my way out, I happened to look down a hallway where I could see into one of the IF clinic exam rooms. Through the half-open door I saw the big poster titled INFERTILITY, the one with all the reproductive organs. I know that poster well. I've been in that exam room many times. It was a nice bit of symbolism--the hallway, the distant, half-open door... My old world is right there, but I have entered a new one.
Uh, anyway, I was initially heartbroken to not get an ultrasound. I mean, why would they not give me a damn ultrasound? WHAT ARE THEY THINKING?!?! But I scheduled one this Friday for the NT test, and, for once, I won't even be (too terribly) worried. I mean, what's the probability that Bun Bun will die between now and Friday? Low.
On my way out, I happened to look down a hallway where I could see into one of the IF clinic exam rooms. Through the half-open door I saw the big poster titled INFERTILITY, the one with all the reproductive organs. I know that poster well. I've been in that exam room many times. It was a nice bit of symbolism--the hallway, the distant, half-open door... My old world is right there, but I have entered a new one.
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