Monday, March 14, 2011

preconception madness

Preconception is madness.

It's an absolute zoo.

I know enough to be terrified, and enough to drive J absolutely mental. Every bottle in our house with an ingredient list has been scanned, and some J is no longer allowed to use (anything with "fragrance (perfum)" listed has been banned, as it causes reproductive damage in fetuses).

Resources on optimizing nutrition, preventing food allergies and wtf is a basal body thermometer are bookmarked. Blogs are read constantly, and furniture+baby are rearranged in my brain at least a dozen times a day. Strollers and carriers are researched, parents are pestered, plans are made.

The ethics of babies have been discussed, including several of my NICU babies. More plans are made.

Supplements are consumed, friends are notified. We even have a plan in place should J be pregnant by our big week long Girl Guide camp this summer, with 3000 other people (all girls and women).

Our baby daddy is wearing boxers.

It's actually happening..... am I old enough for this????

No, I'm not dead... and a follow-up on the Tiger Mother

For awhile, I didn't have much to say. We were waiting for T to arrive back from Oz, planning our wedding, researching donor contracts, J is trying to find a job, camp planning, etc etc etc.

Well, T is now back from Oz, he is still dedicated to the cause and wearing boxer shorts (HAHAHA), J is taking her temperature every morning (and it looks weird, so something to discuss with our MD when we have enough data), she's taking a prenatal vitamin and we're contemplating buying ovulation kits. We are searching new roommates, and J is actively job hunting, which is very stressful, because it's taking a long time (job market is not super great right now).

We are cleaning out our house in preparation for the new roommates (one of whom will be upstairs with us) and the eventual baby. I've sold a bunch of my motorcycle gear, we're getting rid of gobs of stuff, and I recycled 3 years worth of accumulated articles from school. It feels good, it feels right.

I follow someone on FB who is always posting these fabulous birth stories. I appreciate her views, but I take it as that, a view. I want J to read them, to get a sense of what *she* wants, since she is the one pushing out the watermelon. I have an idea of what *I* want, and I'm ok if it all goes sideways.

I've learned a tremendous amount at my job about babies, and birth, and when to just let everything go. The strength of these parents, dealing with having their entire lives walled up in an incubator set to 32 degrees Celcius in 50% humidity, with a baby that is small than a block of butter, is just amazing to watch. I see their exhausted faces, their blank eyes, but also the tiny spark of hope that keeps them going. It's amazing to see what parents are willing to put up with for their child.

It's also astounding (and not in a good way) to see what parents put their children through who are actively dying, but can't and aren't ready to face it.

I realize this is a particularly shitty, rambly blog post. I have a dozen other posts that I started writing, and then stopped for various reasons. I figure I just need to get the flow going again...

So, baby making is still ongoing, but on an almost hold due to financial reasons (half of my wants to just fuckin DO IT, but fortunately my more rational side kicks in and says "if you don't have money now, how the HELL are you going to deal with the baby?").

Peace out, yo.