I'll Tell the World

I'm trying to figure out a funny way to tell my friends and family that we're pregnant (when it happens - don't freak out on me; I'm not pregnant yet!). Last time, Mr. Bee sent out an email to our friends:

Subject: Life-altering Health Issue

Dear Friends,

I don't mean to catch you off-guard by any of this, but (Mama Bee) has a doctor's appointment soon and we may have less than 8 months left. We don't think it's contagious, but we're pretty sure I gave it to her (don't worry, I don't expect to give it to anyone else). If it turns out she got it from someone else I'll be very upset.

(Mama Bee)'s appearance may be significantly affected and our lives will definitely be changed forever.

We will need your support and encouragement during this terrifying time (for Kola [our dog at the time]). No, really. Baby toys scare the shit out of her.

- Mr. Bee

I definitely need to start brainstorming...


Song title: I'll Tell the World by Ever Stays Red

Misery, Pain & Hunger

The results are in
I am officially...

...

...

not pregnant.

Fuck you, January. Fuck. You.

February, you're mine. All MINE!

And just to make things sweeter, apparently my uterus has decided to revolt against me for my attempts to knock her up again. Not only do I have my lovely little monthly visitor, but she decided to visit EARLY and FEROCIOUS. Arg. Being a girl sucks monkey balls.

But in happier news, this means that I have another month of eating stuff all the stuff I shouldn't eat while pregnant, like rare beef, sushi and hot dogs. Sah-weet!!

And last night I discover THE yummiest food on the planet: California Rolls that are...wait for it...DEEP FRIED! Holy crap, right?

Like I told my friends, my body is my temple. And this temple requires all the food that enters it to be purified by way of hot, tasty grease. Man, I'm already craving more of it. So good.

Oops... I Did It Again

So remember how a few weeks ago I admitted to peeing on stuff?

Well, due to my ridiculous impatience or lack of anything better to do, I've almost pee'd on all the tests I have. (No double line yet. Meow meow.)

Yesterday the second Walk of Pregnancy Shame commenced to buy another handful of cheap dollar store pregnancy tests (and yes, this time I hit up an actual Dollar Tree and saved myself $1.49 per test thankyouverymuch).



I really hope that I either find something better to entertain myself or get knocked up soon, 'cuz it's really kind of embarrassing stomping in to a dollar store with Baby Bee on my hip and buying as many pregnancy tests as I can feasibly carry without making it look like I'm selling them on the cheap pregnancy test black market...


Song title: Oops... I Did It Again by Britney Spears

Wishin' and Hopin'

::Yawn::
Is the week over yet? Seriously, yo. I'm spent.

Since Sunday, I have been so exhausted. And last night I was feeling kind of ill.

My brilliant deduction is that I'm either:
(1) exercising too much and causing my muscles to mutiny
(2) getting old
(3) pregnant
(4) sick

Obviously, I really hope that it's Cletus the Fetus that is making me so. god. damn. tired. But I'm realistic that even if I am pregnant, it's probably a little too early for me to be suffering from baby-induced exhaustion.

Options 1 & 4 are enticing because then at least I will, in theory, improve at some point. Whereas Option 3 is slightly depressing as this will just be foreshadowing the 9+ months ahead of me.

Sidenote: Baby Bee is talking to herself in her crib right now. She's saying, "No!...No!" but not in an angry way. A really cute belligerent baby way. She's also started to put a finger up to her mouth and say, "Hmmm..." when I ask her a question. Frickin' adorable, I tell ya.

Because I am so exhausted and cannot come up with a witty blog post to save my life, I will henceforth and therefore and whatnot entertain you with a photo of Baby Bee that I took yesterday after she woke up from her nap:

Does she look more like
Nick Nolte
Gary Busey
or Sanjaya?


Wishin' and Hopin' by Ani Difranco

Baby You've Been On My Mind

My old/new obsession
How come the minute you decide that you are ready to have another baby, you suddenly can not think of anything else?

Is it the hormones? Well, I guess I haven't actually conceived yet, so that's probably not right.

Maybe it's just a defense mechanism designed to keep pregnancy entertaining and blind you from everything it's taken 20 months to forget?

All I know is that I am now obsessed with maternity clothes. And I'm not talking your run-of-the-mill maternity muu muus:


Aren't they pretty?!

Well they should be for $125 a piece.

That's right, my friends. Not only am I obsessed with pregnancy and prego clothes, I'm obsessed with fancy schmancy prego clothes.

I found this website, Isabella Oliver, before I realized that it is basically the maternity shop to the stars. I'm determined to look cute this go around. When I was prego with Baby Bee, I looked like a billboard for the juniors department of Nordstrom. You know, if they were sponsoring Juno, but old and not as cute or something.

But I don't know if I can drop that much money on clothes. I would argue that it's a ridiculous amount to spend on clothes that will only be worn 9 months, but, to be honest, I probably rotate most of my clothes that often anyway.

Except most of my shirts don't cost $125 a piece.

Right now I'm wearing a shirt from the juniors department of JC Penney.


It was "Buy One, Get One Free."

'nuf said.


Baby You've Been On My Mind by Linda Ronstadt

Tick, Tick, Tick

Tick...Tick...Tick...
What's that? Oh, just my ovaries ticking. Never you mind those. It'll go away on it's own, right?

...

A week ago, we went up to Seattle for Mr. Bee's Company Holiday Party Dinner (surely if there is only cocktails and dinner, one can not call that a party, right?). Somehow everyone and their mom (okay, maybe not literally their moms...) has come down with a really horrible, debilitating condition.

Pregnancy.

And for pretty much everyone I know, it's Numeros Dos de los ninos. (That's Number Two for you dumbies out there.) So, of course, practically every person I spoke to asked us, "When are you guys going to have another?!".

To which I answered, "When I stop loving to drink!" and then downed a mouthful of rum from my ginormous cocktail.

But to be honest, I have been thinking more about the when, where and how...

How: Hmmm...well, I'm guessing Mr. Bee will be involved somehow, but no funny business, I promise.

Where: I'll go out on a limb here and just say that it will probably occur within the city limits. Which city, I ain't saying.

When: Damn, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition? (Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!!)

My husband is still working 2+ hours away from home, 4 days a week (but has been home for the last few weeks which I think has affected my stance on the issue). But my ovaries have started calling I'm starting think I might be ready for another. Or more accurately, that in 9+ months I could possibly be ready for another.

Which has got me thinking and remembering my last pregnancy.

I had forgotten how scary pregnancy is. Sure, all that vomiting and peeing every five minutes is a thrill ride of fun. But beneath all the excitement, I remember this kind of overwhelming fear and worry.

Will my baby be okay? Will she be healthy? Will we be okay if she's not? Do I get tested to see if she will have an 11th toe or do I just wait to find out later?

I will worry about eating right. About gaining enough, but not too much weight. About taking my prenatal vitamins and seeing the doctor regularly.

And then you get tackled by something completely out of left field.

When I was around 7 months or so pregnant with Bee, I woke around 3 a.m. for my hourly hardly-wake-up-to-pee-in-the-dark-session. It was just a regular night until (sorry for the TMI) I finished up peeing and found that I was bleeding.

I have never been so scared in my entire life.

I immediately yelled at Mr. Bee from the bathroom for him to wake up and told him what was going on. I laid down in bed while he tried to contact the on-call doctor on the phone. After leaving a message with the message service and waiting 15 minutes, my general opinion was "fuck them" and we called 911. Pretty embarrassing to have an ambulance full of aid people in my bedroom at 3 o'clock in the morning, but at least none of them were super hot. Now *that* would have been a cause for alarm!

Long story, well, long (sorry), we ended up going to the local hospital to be monitored and everything appeared to be okay. It never happened again and they never had an explanation for me.

But despite all of that, I'll (mostly) voluntarily do it all again.

At least I have another month before it even becomes an option to get knocked up 'cause girlfriend ain't gonna be all nauseous and tired without a hubbie around to help in the evenings. So not an option.

But, in the meantime, pass the wine!


Song title: Tick, Tick, Tick by My Dream Is Yours

Another You, Another Me

But I am loving me some booz-ahol right now...
Tick, tock, ladies. According to my ovaries Outlook calendar, it appears to be that time again.

Time for awesome new television? Oh yeah, but that's not what I mean...

Time to plan a housewarming party? Nah, there is one tentatively scheduled for October 2012 (i.e. when the moving boxes finally get opened and distributed)...

Time to start buying Christmas presents? Guess again. I don't do that shit until 12/24...

Nope. It's TIME. Time to do the nasty. Get another egg fertilized. Time to have another baby.

Baby Bee is now almost a year and a half, so if we get knocked up in the next few months then her and her little sister (fingers crossed, man) will be roughly 2 1/2 years apart. Sissy and I are about 3 years apart and I've always thought that it was great timing - we never really had to go to school together except for when we were young and it didn't really matter. And now that we're older, 3 years is nothing and we're the best of buds!

So logistically, it's all guns blazing, let's do this thing! But, uh, well, shit. Do I really want to be pregnant again? Last time was a blast - I really enjoyed being pregnant.

Except for the wanting to vomit all the time (but hardly ever really vomiting so it was just really frustrating).

Oh, and then the being hungry all the time and having to make sure I brought food with me EVERYWHERE or else risk stealing other people's food and/or eating anything remotely food-like.

And the getting fat.

And never sleeping. (oh yeah, that's a newborn thing too. Fuck.)

And the having to pee every hour, on the hour. My bladder was a frickin' Cuckoo Clock, yo.

And we won't even touch labor and post-labor issues. Let's just say that I didn't have a super great birth story. It was more like an alien abduction rip-the-baby-out-of-me story.

So, uh, yeah. Not so excited this time around. But I don't want to only have one child. I want Bee to have a sister (or brother!) to play around with. Shit, this kid will probably be walking before Bee does.

I never thought I'd be that Mom, either. You know, the one who freaks out about having the second kid thinking that she couldn't possibly love a child more than #1. I know that I'll love #2 just as much as Bee. It's just so strange for me to think about having to split my time between two kids. And it's not only about me wanting to spend all my time with Bee; it makes me sad that #2 won't get the mommy one-on-one time that Bee has gotten these last few years.

To make things worse, we were going to start "trying" when Mr. Bee ended a commitment at work that had him traveling once a month to various locations around the country. That ended this month. But then, a couple weeks ago, we found out that now he's going to have to work about 3 hours away from home 4 days a week. So from Monday through Thursday, he'll be living on the pennisula. Hmmm...little bit of a damper on things. And I had thought the once a month traveling was an imposition!!

Any who, so one of these days you might be reading an "I'm PREGO!" post, but for now, I think I'll just refill my glass of rum punch and enjoy a full night's sleep...


Song title: Another You, Another Me by H & Claire