It's mostly because Saby has lots of newly married cousins that he and I have found ourselves to be the North American branch of an international baby makin' syndicate.
I can proudly say that thanks to the Catholic side of my family, we had our own population boom (international even, as one cousin was born in Germany) during a time frame that allowed my sister to participate. She cast in her lot as co-engineer of two girls and a boy over a span of about 6 or 7 years. Other cousins of mine have managed to have upwards of 5 in that same time; some are sticking with one.
Sometime this summer, our cousin Babi was not the first of the new generation of cousins to have a baby, but the first to have one after I had actually met her. Until our trip to India in the end of '06, the joy of most family baby announcements had been diluted by vague descriptions like "Daddy's 2nd youngest brother's second daughter had a baby boy yesterday" and Saby saying, "She was just a KID when I saw her last!" Add to it a pile of names like Anju, Manju, Renju, Reena, and Reema... it was just hard to imagine everyone. So ta-daaa, go to India, meet everyone, sort the Anjus from the Manjus, and now we can authentically rejoice in the birth of everyone's children.
Babi had a girl. Babi managed to get pregnant on probably her wedding night, as all good Kerala girls should, and subsequently had a baby some 280 days later. Her daughter is a cute little thing, from the few photos we've seen, and I'm sure she's being loved to death as the first grandchild of Joy Uncle and Valsama aunty.
Next came Dhanya. Dhanya is from the other side of Saby's family... Mummy's. She is the second daughter of Matkutty uncle, who lives in Jersey City (and who is a very nice guy.) See, I can play this whole thing out now, even though I've never met her. Dhanya has always been a bit of a luddoo gordita supreme, and unfortunately had to go through a c-section before her daughter Riya could be introduced to the world. (the fourth Riya/Rhea in the family, btw... not sure what that is all about. We have more than one Babi too) Riya was born at a whopping 9 point something pounds... very close to ten. She's now probably the most kissable little glub-glub you'll ever see in photos.
Now the newest addition to the club is our cousin Cynthia. She's the wife of Vinod, the big Egyptian looking fellow from our wedding, should anybody remember. She is relatively tall and very very slim, and has never allowed me to see any photos of her pregnant because she feels she looked like she had swallowed a watermelon. Huh. (I'd be proud of that, but hey...) Have never seen photos of their wedding, either, because she claims to look like crap. Anyway... she just gave birth on the 30th to a baby girl named Maya... unfortunately also via cesarean operation. She was terrified about the idea of giving birth and said she'd sell her mother and husband for an epidural... then later recanted that, saying she was nervous that the doctors in Cochin were too inexperienced on giving epidurals. We have yet to hear how it all went down, or get any further statistics on the baby, but it also looks like a sweet little thing and has the same big cheeks of Cynthia and possibly Vinod's nose.
A friend of ours in Michigan gave birth on March 15th to a baby girl ( to Anjali, the best Hindi movie name ever)... and another friend of ours is in the "watch-and-wait" stages, holding out for April 5th or so.
After that, the spotlight goes to cousin Meril (from Daddy's side of the family) in the UK on or around July 18th, and then to me immediately after. It's very interesting to look at it all this way. At least for me.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
"I ate that cow!"
Ahhh, French Kiss. Great Meg Ryan movie that (among many, many, MANY other things) brings to light the plight of hundreds of thousands of North Americans: LACTOSE INTOLERANCE
Something funny has been happening to me lately. I seem to be able to drink milk. And eat ice cream, and have milkshakes, and smoothies with yogurt, and have cheese in absolutely everything I eat (minus ice cream, milkshakes, and smoothies with yogurt).
There's no stinky-poo aftermath to be suffered by all. No cramping, no painful build-ups with subsequent explosions. In fact, perhaps in a mean inter-bodily plot to make me fatter, my digestion seems to be loving this stuff. We're saving about $5 a month not having to buy Lactaid milk, and I'm pumping that saved $5 directly back into Boston Stoker Mocha Lattes! I have calcium coursing through my veins at an unprecedented rate! Osteoporosis is no longer in my long-term plans! YES! For the love of God, I want the whip cream!
This is a new development over probably the last two months. I'm not sure if some new bacteria has taken up residence in my intestine or what... but milk no longer makes me want to shoot myself. This is a very nice thing.
Something funny has been happening to me lately. I seem to be able to drink milk. And eat ice cream, and have milkshakes, and smoothies with yogurt, and have cheese in absolutely everything I eat (minus ice cream, milkshakes, and smoothies with yogurt).
There's no stinky-poo aftermath to be suffered by all. No cramping, no painful build-ups with subsequent explosions. In fact, perhaps in a mean inter-bodily plot to make me fatter, my digestion seems to be loving this stuff. We're saving about $5 a month not having to buy Lactaid milk, and I'm pumping that saved $5 directly back into Boston Stoker Mocha Lattes! I have calcium coursing through my veins at an unprecedented rate! Osteoporosis is no longer in my long-term plans! YES! For the love of God, I want the whip cream!
This is a new development over probably the last two months. I'm not sure if some new bacteria has taken up residence in my intestine or what... but milk no longer makes me want to shoot myself. This is a very nice thing.
Bloody hell...
Ahhhhh, I only have 30 minutes to throw together something to distract Spampy's Aunty Melanie from her future as a lawyer... her contracts class is coming up fast at 10 a.m. Central Time! Damn Texas for not being on mountain time! And shame on St Mary's in San Antonio for allowing their law students to have wireless internet in class!
Well... let's see. Today is Wednesday, and the last one of March. How the month has flown! Went from getting my first kick-in-tha-ute on March 2nd to having an almost constant bowling alley atmosphere in this formerly peaceful womb.
Spampy is my private dancer. I'm sure parents world-wide draw all sorts of conclusions about why their kids are bouncing around in vitro. We are certainly no exception. I tend to think this kid is a enthusiastic little ball of birth, doing his/her involuntary movement exercises, yanking on the umbilical cord and swimming cleverly around, sipping amniotic fluid occasionally. Saby likes to err on the side of... well, his own personality. He's a sleeper, and sort of a twitchy one with restless leg syndrome and a constant and real fear that he's going to inadvertently throw a jab at me in the night. Spampy seems to get most rowdy after dinner and then right before I go off to sleep... which is very similar to big poppa's routine. This morning the poor thing seems to have gotten hiccups... and per his/her dad's line of thought, this was from being startled awake and having to bump-a-bump over to the kitchen to make coffee and lunch.
But then, last night there was also spasms of some sort occurring... hiccups from too much Chili's take out, too late at night? General excitement about faintly hearing (and now, recognizing) The Office through all the digestion noises? The little pamphlet my Aunt Kathy sent us stated that at 24 weeks, babies are able to respond rhythmically to music or sound that they hear in the womb. Meaning, on the extremely scarce chance that those hiccups were actually rhythmic responses to whatever the outside world was transmitting, this kid already has a longer attention span than I do!!
Well... let's see. Today is Wednesday, and the last one of March. How the month has flown! Went from getting my first kick-in-tha-ute on March 2nd to having an almost constant bowling alley atmosphere in this formerly peaceful womb.
Spampy is my private dancer. I'm sure parents world-wide draw all sorts of conclusions about why their kids are bouncing around in vitro. We are certainly no exception. I tend to think this kid is a enthusiastic little ball of birth, doing his/her involuntary movement exercises, yanking on the umbilical cord and swimming cleverly around, sipping amniotic fluid occasionally. Saby likes to err on the side of... well, his own personality. He's a sleeper, and sort of a twitchy one with restless leg syndrome and a constant and real fear that he's going to inadvertently throw a jab at me in the night. Spampy seems to get most rowdy after dinner and then right before I go off to sleep... which is very similar to big poppa's routine. This morning the poor thing seems to have gotten hiccups... and per his/her dad's line of thought, this was from being startled awake and having to bump-a-bump over to the kitchen to make coffee and lunch.
But then, last night there was also spasms of some sort occurring... hiccups from too much Chili's take out, too late at night? General excitement about faintly hearing (and now, recognizing) The Office through all the digestion noises? The little pamphlet my Aunt Kathy sent us stated that at 24 weeks, babies are able to respond rhythmically to music or sound that they hear in the womb. Meaning, on the extremely scarce chance that those hiccups were actually rhythmic responses to whatever the outside world was transmitting, this kid already has a longer attention span than I do!!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Photographic Evidence
Here's a photo from very early in the morning, the day of both the Ohio Presidental primary and our 20-week ultrasound. I actually deleted the side view photo, because I realized my face was starting to get a little chubby and I couldn't stand seeing my own chins.
And here's another from Friday, March 21st at (apparently) 5 months and 3 weeks, or 23 weeks. I am actually standing up straight, as much as it does not look like it.
And last but not least, here's photographic evidence of both Daddy and Mum, very late in the evening of March 22nd after the Easter Vigil at our church. I'm a little greasy after being anointed (smeared) in perfumed oil in honor of becoming a confirmed Catholic... Saby is resoundingly cheerful after sitting for 3 hours. Spampy was just chilling :-)
And here's another from Friday, March 21st at (apparently) 5 months and 3 weeks, or 23 weeks. I am actually standing up straight, as much as it does not look like it.
And last but not least, here's photographic evidence of both Daddy and Mum, very late in the evening of March 22nd after the Easter Vigil at our church. I'm a little greasy after being anointed (smeared) in perfumed oil in honor of becoming a confirmed Catholic... Saby is resoundingly cheerful after sitting for 3 hours. Spampy was just chilling :-)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Life is pretty amazing...
Here's an article from the UK on a baby born at 22 weeks, and survived. She's already had plastic surgery, to repair an ear that was ripped off during delivery. (yikes!)
But it's pretty amazing. Makes me want to go and punch an abortion doc in the stomach.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/health/healthmain.html?in_article_id=437236&in_page_id=1774&in_page_id=1774&expand=true#StartComments
But it's pretty amazing. Makes me want to go and punch an abortion doc in the stomach.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/health/healthmain.html?in_article_id=437236&in_page_id=1774&in_page_id=1774&expand=true#StartComments
Monday, March 17, 2008
Curious George
When my friend Radha was pregnant with her baby girl, I would always hear this song and cry...
Now waiting for my own baby, I don't cry. Thank you, Baby, for stabilizing my hormones!
The Fundus Among Us
Five month doctor (midwife) visit today
Unless you're going to be a fusspot worry-wart or actually have a genuine reason to be in a high risk pregnancy and really need the monthly attention, I'm beginning to wonder what would happen if I just stopped going for these appointments. It's like all they want to see is whether the baby still has a heart beat. (which is fine... I like to hear it) No measurements - a few feels of the almighty fundus through your belly, an offer to quickly answer any questions, and bam - I'm out of the office in more time than it took me to find parking the the structure.
So today I came armed with questions per the request of Saby, who wanted (if possible) stats on size, length, and heart rate. Also thought I'd try and score some more free prenatal vitamins, as they're super nice and don't make me constipated. Fun times!!
Well. As a result of today's visit I can give you boring information on how baby's femur is 3.4 something centimeters long, or I can tell you the slightly more interesting factoid of a 144 bpm heart rate. If all else fails, I can tell you that this morning I weighed 162 on the office scale... which is always higher than the home scale by which I swear. (Perception, baby... it's all about your perception) I also now have two more weeks worth of super vitamins with Lina-soluble iron. Thanks Nurse Mix... my colon thanks you too.
I guess the most interesting thing to me was that when I lifted my sweater and pulled down the Secret Fit panel of my jeans for midwife Lisa to doppler baby's heart, she had to chase the little swimmy around my uterus. First she was up high (my fundus is 2 fingers above my belly button, which is a pleasant surprise... I'm suddenly getting beeeeeeegg) and to the left (my left), and then s/he must have doggie paddled down lower to avoid whatever was making the house roof sag, where after a few seconds Lisa found the heartbeat again. That is interesting, because I almost always feel kicking/movement/SOMETHING in the same spot (mid lower right), and for this I sort of assumed that baby had settled into a comfy position and was just looking for a foot rest.
When Saby told his mother about our swimmy, moving baby, she said it must be taking after me, because he had been such a lazy infant, both in vitro and out. Saby was apparently a pavum, quiet little thing, weighing in at just barely 6 lbs. You'd be hard-put to look at him and say he was the smallest in his family for so long...
My other theory is that since it's St Patrick's Day, perhaps baby is jigging, utilizing the enthusiasm and gusto provided by his/her one-eighth Irish genetics. Perhaps it's the half Keralite that makes it want to beat on the walls of my uterus? No place here for half-cracked stereotypes ;-) Although if I did have a drink at any point, once the alcohol crossed the placenta the Irish and Mallu DNA might start a nasty bar brawl against each other... (harrr, harr harr...)
Just kidding :-)
I'm taking a nap and then making some St Pat's cupcakes. Haven't baked in ages... let's get our domestic on! The corned beef for our feast-for-two tonight is already at about hour 14 in the slow cooker, and smells nice... nice enough to finally kill the fishy smelly from two subsequent dinners of baked haddock and then salmon. Is THAT why baby is so swimmy? All the friendly Omega-3 DHA fatty acids from the fishies inspiring him/her??
Good night for now!
Unless you're going to be a fusspot worry-wart or actually have a genuine reason to be in a high risk pregnancy and really need the monthly attention, I'm beginning to wonder what would happen if I just stopped going for these appointments. It's like all they want to see is whether the baby still has a heart beat. (which is fine... I like to hear it) No measurements - a few feels of the almighty fundus through your belly, an offer to quickly answer any questions, and bam - I'm out of the office in more time than it took me to find parking the the structure.
So today I came armed with questions per the request of Saby, who wanted (if possible) stats on size, length, and heart rate. Also thought I'd try and score some more free prenatal vitamins, as they're super nice and don't make me constipated. Fun times!!
Well. As a result of today's visit I can give you boring information on how baby's femur is 3.4 something centimeters long, or I can tell you the slightly more interesting factoid of a 144 bpm heart rate. If all else fails, I can tell you that this morning I weighed 162 on the office scale... which is always higher than the home scale by which I swear. (Perception, baby... it's all about your perception) I also now have two more weeks worth of super vitamins with Lina-soluble iron. Thanks Nurse Mix... my colon thanks you too.
I guess the most interesting thing to me was that when I lifted my sweater and pulled down the Secret Fit panel of my jeans for midwife Lisa to doppler baby's heart, she had to chase the little swimmy around my uterus. First she was up high (my fundus is 2 fingers above my belly button, which is a pleasant surprise... I'm suddenly getting beeeeeeegg) and to the left (my left), and then s/he must have doggie paddled down lower to avoid whatever was making the house roof sag, where after a few seconds Lisa found the heartbeat again. That is interesting, because I almost always feel kicking/movement/SOMETHING in the same spot (mid lower right), and for this I sort of assumed that baby had settled into a comfy position and was just looking for a foot rest.
When Saby told his mother about our swimmy, moving baby, she said it must be taking after me, because he had been such a lazy infant, both in vitro and out. Saby was apparently a pavum, quiet little thing, weighing in at just barely 6 lbs. You'd be hard-put to look at him and say he was the smallest in his family for so long...
My other theory is that since it's St Patrick's Day, perhaps baby is jigging, utilizing the enthusiasm and gusto provided by his/her one-eighth Irish genetics. Perhaps it's the half Keralite that makes it want to beat on the walls of my uterus? No place here for half-cracked stereotypes ;-) Although if I did have a drink at any point, once the alcohol crossed the placenta the Irish and Mallu DNA might start a nasty bar brawl against each other... (harrr, harr harr...)
Just kidding :-)
I'm taking a nap and then making some St Pat's cupcakes. Haven't baked in ages... let's get our domestic on! The corned beef for our feast-for-two tonight is already at about hour 14 in the slow cooker, and smells nice... nice enough to finally kill the fishy smelly from two subsequent dinners of baked haddock and then salmon. Is THAT why baby is so swimmy? All the friendly Omega-3 DHA fatty acids from the fishies inspiring him/her??
Good night for now!
Friday, March 7, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Ultrasonic!
Yaaaaaaay! 20 week ultrasound happened today... and now I feel like I've met the little creature that lives inside me.
It's really neat to be in a dark room while a over-caffeinated 30-something brunette who squeezes warm jelly onto your bare tummy and then pushes what seems like a high-tech roll-on deodorant stick around on your abdomen. The deodorant stick translates the high tech sound waves and vibrations into pictures, which you see on the little tv above you... and voila... a flash of a spine, some blobs, there's a head! Little moving arms, tiny 10-toes. Depending where she goes with the roller, you see different things... baby's head profile view. Nice nose. Big forehead. Baby's head top down view. Brain stuff. Blood flowing (when she turns on the color, Doppler view... baby's brain lights up like a Windows 95 screensaver). Same with the heart, and kidneys, and lungs. Four little chambers, whump-whump-whumping away, and then one flip of the switch and they're suddenly Technicolor with the flow of blood, thanks to the same technology that makes the weather forecast so cool.
I realize now that she did not show me much of Baby from about the belly button down. Being among the huge minority of people who don't want to know the gender of their child, she was very good with avoiding the "gootlies" area. She did however investigate that end while I kept my eyes shut (honest), and typed on-screen the results, and took a photo. That print out went directly into an envelope, was sealed, and is now on it's way to one trusted soul who has promised Baby about a year's worth of actual gender specific clothing. All this happened while I was still covered in slowly cooling jelly, laying on the table.
Baby weighs about 14 ounces... as I told my mother on the phone, "I've eaten steaks bigger than that." But it's amazing to think that this particular steak already has fully functional organs (minus lungs) and can hiccup, kick, and startle just like a regular, outside the womb baby.
The ultrasound technician said that baby looks perfect for where s/he should be, and that s/he was "very fun"; one moment when she was trying to get a look at something and Baby rolled right over, mooning us.
Life is fabulous!
It's really neat to be in a dark room while a over-caffeinated 30-something brunette who squeezes warm jelly onto your bare tummy and then pushes what seems like a high-tech roll-on deodorant stick around on your abdomen. The deodorant stick translates the high tech sound waves and vibrations into pictures, which you see on the little tv above you... and voila... a flash of a spine, some blobs, there's a head! Little moving arms, tiny 10-toes. Depending where she goes with the roller, you see different things... baby's head profile view. Nice nose. Big forehead. Baby's head top down view. Brain stuff. Blood flowing (when she turns on the color, Doppler view... baby's brain lights up like a Windows 95 screensaver). Same with the heart, and kidneys, and lungs. Four little chambers, whump-whump-whumping away, and then one flip of the switch and they're suddenly Technicolor with the flow of blood, thanks to the same technology that makes the weather forecast so cool.
I realize now that she did not show me much of Baby from about the belly button down. Being among the huge minority of people who don't want to know the gender of their child, she was very good with avoiding the "gootlies" area. She did however investigate that end while I kept my eyes shut (honest), and typed on-screen the results, and took a photo. That print out went directly into an envelope, was sealed, and is now on it's way to one trusted soul who has promised Baby about a year's worth of actual gender specific clothing. All this happened while I was still covered in slowly cooling jelly, laying on the table.
Baby weighs about 14 ounces... as I told my mother on the phone, "I've eaten steaks bigger than that." But it's amazing to think that this particular steak already has fully functional organs (minus lungs) and can hiccup, kick, and startle just like a regular, outside the womb baby.
The ultrasound technician said that baby looks perfect for where s/he should be, and that s/he was "very fun"; one moment when she was trying to get a look at something and Baby rolled right over, mooning us.
Life is fabulous!
Monday, March 3, 2008
Statistical Goodness 3.0
Weight: 154.5 lbs (growing pleasantly, although 3 lbs of that is probably a bag of organic Oreos I blew through in about 5 days)
Hips/Belly: 40 inches
Waist: 31.25 inches
Bustyola: 37 inches
(awww, no new development there)
4: estimated and exaggerated pounds of mucus I've coughed up from stupid cold
3: times I've broken my Lenten fast and had a burger, because somehow I thought that starving myself of beef was making my cold last longer
3: number of pairs of maternity pants I'm holding steady with... refusing to buy more until 6 months, when I can justify a pair of cute jeans, and by then it might be warm enough to go for the "convertable capris" for 29.98 (+ 30% discount!)
15: times I've almost bought the French wool teddy bear daddy/baby set at Motherhood (their names are Emile & Emilien!) and decided against it
Hips/Belly: 40 inches
Waist: 31.25 inches
Bustyola: 37 inches
(awww, no new development there)
4: estimated and exaggerated pounds of mucus I've coughed up from stupid cold
3: times I've broken my Lenten fast and had a burger, because somehow I thought that starving myself of beef was making my cold last longer
3: number of pairs of maternity pants I'm holding steady with... refusing to buy more until 6 months, when I can justify a pair of cute jeans, and by then it might be warm enough to go for the "convertable capris" for 29.98 (+ 30% discount!)
15: times I've almost bought the French wool teddy bear daddy/baby set at Motherhood (their names are Emile & Emilien!) and decided against it
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