Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts

5.16.2012

Guest Blogger: "I am Not the Kind of Person to Sit Around Waiting for a Baby to Come"

Last week on the blog I shared the exciting news that my sister, Camille, had given birth to her baby daughter, Oakley, in a city hall parking lot. Several people asked, "How does that happen?!" Well, my friends, I am here to deliver. No, not a baby, but the amazing story as written by Camille herself, my guest blogger today. (And by the way, never mind that she went and gave birth by herself in a parking lot. I'm more in awe of her actually getting the birth story written down in only a week from the birth date! I still haven't written Baby Cee's birth story down and she's a "mere" 16 months. Sheesh!) Without further adieu, Oakley's incredible birth story...


I woke at 4:17 am with some contractions. They were not bad at all but got me excited so I laid in bed timing the contractions at 8-10 minutes apart. Around 4:45 I got up and did some laundry. I finished packing the bags, got ready for the day, plugged in the camera, video camera, and my cell phone… meanwhile tracking my contractions with the iPad at around 6 minutes apart. I had arranged with Christy (sister in law) to tape the birth so I texted her and she was ready to go at the drop of a hat. When I had Micah, I started contracting at 4:45 am and lost my plug around 7:00 am I was waiting for my plug to come before I got too concerned about heading up to the hospital.

By 8:30 the contractions were consistent. I was busy around the house and would yell to Tyler “START!” and he was clocking them at 2-6 minutes apart. I called Dr. Clifford (who was on vacation) to tell him but felt ridiculous because as soon as I hung up the contractions came to a dead stop and he was in Yellowstone so it wasn’t like he could have done anything anyway. Christy showed up and still no contractions.

We (Christy, Tyler and I) took Micah to daycare then headed to some stores to get supplies for our mutual activity that night. I figured the walking would help get the contractions going again. Still nothing. I asked Tyler to take me to work so I could finish up some stuff I had been working on the day before. He asked if I wanted him to stay with me but I didn’t because I already felt like him and Christy had been following me around like I was on suicide watch or something.

My boss had us employees come in for a powwow since we figured the baby was coming soon. I ended up stepping out of that meeting a couple of times to have contractions out in the hall. I would step out, stand in the hall feet shoulder width apart, and rock. Breathing in for three rocks, breathing out for three rocks. The contraction would end and I would step back into the meeting. A couple times I was mid sentence and I would just stop turn and go into the hall. I wasn’t timing them so I wasn’t aware of how close they were coming.

My biggest fear always has been and always will be, that I will be that woman who comes running into the hospital yelling, "I’m in labor! This baby is coming! Why isn’t anyone doing anything?!" Then they will check me, lean around my stirrupped spread legs and say, “Mrs. Gilbert, you are at a one. We are just going to have you head home for a bit, you poor excuse for a child bearing woman, and try to walk around till you get a little…or a lot more dilated. Alrighty mmm hm okay?” *snap off gloves* Due to this fear I tell myself, "It’s got to get worse, suck it up woman, you are not going in yet, your baby will be prettier if you wait three more contractions." You know, encouraging things like that. Anyway…

Tyler asked if I wanted to come to lunch with him, Christy, and Travis. I told him that the contractions were starting to make me sick to my stomach so I didn’t want to go eat and be contracting in a restaurant. As soon as I said “Just go without me and come get me when you are done” the contractions seemed to step it up a notch. I would rock and dig my finger tips into the small of my back to relieve some of the pressure.

I got scared at this point. I had gone through a lot of mental preparation to have this baby natural and pain free but these were hurting and I felt like I was losing focus. I was tired because I had been up since 4 and I started to get weak and think about how easy it would be to get the epidural. I had to remind myself that my discomfort was worth it to give this little girl a drug free entrance into this world.

I texted Tyler again asking him to come get me ASAP. When he got there, the contractions were really painful and coming every few minutes in fact I got in the car then got right back out again to have a contraction. While I was contracting, Erin (my sister) called. So just as a point of reference, I work at Gateway Financial on the corner of Cedar and Pole Line. I started talking to Erin while Tyler headed down Pole Line to Tammy’s house to drop Travis off. We got out of the parking lot and I started explaining to Erin that I had not lost my plug yet so I must not be that dilated. She told me that not everyone loses their plug in one big mass. Good thing I have sisters to educate me.

We had only gone one block when I started another contraction so I got off the phone with her as Tyler pulled into the V1 propane on the corner of Pole Line and Alameda. I finished the contraction then straightened up. I heard a popping noise and water came gushing down my leg. I felt her drop down and her head hit my pelvis.

I said, “My water just broke this baby is coming NOW! We need to go to the hospital!” Tyler said, “Travis can you walk the rest of the way?” Travis jumped out and I think was more than willing to get out of the situation. Ha ha! I kneeled on the front passenger seat facing backward. Tyler pulled out of the parking lot and headed down Alameda. Before we even reached the grade school I felt another contraction and I felt her head pushing down between my legs. I said “Tyler her head is RIGHT there!” I felt him speed up.

Another contraction, I put my hand between my legs and encouraged her head NOT to come out. When a contraction came, I would bury my head in the head rest try to will her not to come. Christy said she thinks I bit the headrest at one point. Ha ha! When I was not contracting I was planning and thinking about how best to deal with the situation. I could feel Tyler swerving around cars and hear him talking about lights being red. I was hugging the head rest and thinking about what will happen when we get to the hospital because there is no way I will be able to stand up.

The contractions were coming fast and I was trying to resist the urge to push but at a certain point your body takes over and does what it needs to do in order to accomplish the goal. Another contraction, the fact is made know to me that in the next contraction her head is coming out. I told Tyler, “You’ve got to pull over this baby is coming out and I need your help.”

Tyler told Christy to call 911 and she was right on it. I pulled my shorts down around my knees and put my hand between my legs in time to feel her head come out. Tyler got into a parking spot and I said, “I have her head in my hand” He ran around the car and ripped open the door as I heard Christy giving the address to the 911 operator. I thought to myself “How on earth did Christy just KNOW the address of where we are!?” Then my thoughts were ripped back to the situation at hand…or literally, IN hand.

Christy was instructed to give the phone to Tyler so the operator could talk Tyler through the delivery but when Tyler saw her head and the rest of her body coming out he threw the phone back and said, “I can’t talk right now, she’s coming!” Then with my hand on her head and Tyler’s hands on her body with one last contraction she made her grand entrance.

Labor and Delivery gown
I grabbed her from between my legs and pulled her up to my stomach but didn’t want to pull too tight on the umbilical cord. Her body was limp and her head flopped onto my arm. I started stroking my thumb and finger down the sides of her nose to clear her nose of fluid. I heard Christy talking about not having a towel to wrap her in but then she threw me the labor and delivery gown I had sewn. I wrapped her up as best I could then started rubbing her back to stimulate her to cry. I told her what a good girl she was and asked her to give me a good cry. I got a few good squeals out of her when Lieutenant Scott Marchand and Officer Jordan Johnson came up to the car. They asked me my name and how we were doing. I was still in disbelief so I just said, “We are doing great!”

They had me hold onto her until the ambulance and paramedics arrived minutes later. I just rubbed her, stroked her nose, and tried to keep her warm. It was such a beautiful thing to be able to be the very first person to touch her, to hold her. Mine was the first voice she heard and I wasn’t screaming or swearing or telling Tyler this was all his fault. Tyler and I were there as husband and wife with the newest member of our family. We had done it together and grown stronger as a couple because of that. He trusted me to listen to my body and I trusted him to not wreck while speeding and running red lights and I trusted him to catch her.

Christy had started recording by this point. I was having placenta contractions but otherwise felt really really good. The paramedics clamped the cord and had Tyler come around and cut it. I looked around at this point and saw around 15 emergency response people standing around the car. Tyler said someone yelled, “Hey you guys are really good at standing around! Why don’t you create a wall over there and give this woman some privacy?” It was then that I saw people holding up a sheet between Yellowstone and me. That was appreciated, but my dignity was all but out the window back at Alameda.

I was able to flip over in the seat so I was laying down. They took my vitals and brought the gurney over. The guy said, “Ok we are going to move you over to the gurney so we can load you into the ambulance.” I didn’t even think about it I just wrapped the towel they had cleaned the baby off with around my waist and got out of the car and over onto the gurney. The paramedics were like, “Well, WE were going to move you over, but that works.”

They buckled me in and said, “So what are we going to name this baby?” I didn’t think about it and just said, “Her name is Oakley”. I heard some approving sounds then I heard clapping. They loaded me into the ambulance and Tyler came in with a phone saying that Officer Marchand insisted on a picture of the baby because he’d been doing this for 28 years and never seen anything like this and everyone was going to be asking if he’d gotten a picture.


Christy drove the CR-V, Tyler sat next to me in the ambulance, and Oakley was at my head in the paramedic’s lap. I felt calm and in control the entire time. At no point did I feel that dreaded sinking feeling of “what if” that people often talk about. I knew that between my preparation to have the least invasive natural birth and the protection of the Lord that we had done fine and we were going to be fine. I am sure the adrenaline flowing through my veins like cocaine was also helpful in this euphoric feeling.

We arrived at the hospital where they asked how we were doing and decided to bypass the ER because everyone seemed to be good so we headed straight up to labor and delivery. On Monday night Tyler and I had come to the hospital to attend a maternity social. The class was instruction on where to come into the hospital when you were in labor, how to check in, they showed us the rooms we would be in, etc. Needless to say, that was NOT the route we took to get to labor and delivery. Ha ha!

Since Dr. Clifford was out of town, Dr. Burton was the on call doctor for the office. He arrived--a bit flustered it seemed--but soon settled into routine and was joking around as he assessed the situation. They announced Oakley’s birth weight as 7 pounds, 13 ounces and birth length 20 inches. I asked her to repeat herself because if I had heard correctly she was more than a pound lighter than Micah and 2 inches shorter. I hadn’t expected that.

I still had to deliver the placenta and was more then ready to get that process started. Dr. Burton was allowing the resident OB to do this until he saw how much pain this inexperienced student was putting me through. I think the resident was used to working with women who had had epidurals and had no feeling below the waist. I could definitely feel each harsh aggressive movement as he pushed and poked and even dug to get the placenta out. Finally Dr. Burton took pity on me and took over. Within minutes he told me to give a big "heave ho!" and we got it out. Then he sewed me up. I didn’t tear as bad as I did with Micah but there was still some reconstructive work to do. While they were sewing me up someone said, “Did we happen to get a time of birth for this baby?” Uh…no. We looked at what time we called 911...1:14 and added five minutes to that. Time of birth: 1:19 pm.

The nurse brought Oakley over and said her temperature was a little low and they wanted to do skin to skin to get her warmed up. I looked down to take my shirt off and realized what a mess it was. One of my favorite maternity shirts and it was covered in blood and birth. I took it off and realized, Oh my gosh! Our car! The seat! This warm day…heating up the car! Oh yuck! I started talking about it and the nurse said, “Now don’t you worry about that. You have this little baby and she is perfect. Just worry about that later.”

A nurse came in and said she had a funny story for me. She had been down in the ER when a patient said to her, “Did a woman just have her baby in the City Hall parking lot?” The nurse said she hadn’t heard anything about it at that point. Just after that they received the call that the ambulance was headed in with a mom and baby that was delivered in the City Hall parking lot. The nurse went back to the patient and asked how he’d known about it. The guy said someone heard it over the police scanner and posted it up on this Internet news site, then it sent him as a notification on his phone of the most up to date news. The nurse thought it was pretty funny but I was just in shock. It is odd how quickly my personal life can travel without me knowing or having a say.

Tyler came and told me he’d just gotten off the phone with Mom and she sounded like she was on the verge of tears. I guess she had texted me and stopped by the office and couldn’t find me. Then within minutes, she received a text from Tyler saying "we’d had the baby, mom and baby were fine, baby born in car". Ha ha! Needless to say, Mom was a little concerned. She came into the room minutes later and started to cry. She came to my bedside and said, “Don‘t do that to me!” It was good to have her there. In surreal situations, mom always seems to ground me and bring me back to Earth.

She asked if we had settled on "Oakley" and I said, “Yep, 'Oakley Deena'.” I don’t think we had told Mom we were thinking about naming our daughter after her so she started to cry again and was waving her hand in front of her face like she was swatting flies. I heard Tyler talking to Christy and asked what was up. Apparently his mom and Nicole did not believe that Oakley had been born in the car. Tyler was trying to convince them.

We were told we had some visitors and in walked Officer Marchand and Officer Johnson! They said they had just come to see how things were going and make sure we were good. He said there was already an email going around telling the story. He complimented me on how calm I had been and talked about how so much bad stuff happens in his job it is really nice to see something good happen. He told us that someone back at the office told him to let us know they thought we should name the baby "Justice". Good thought…but not gonna happen.

We took some pictures with them and let them hold the baby. I asked if either of them had known Officer Dan Gilbert. Officer Marchand said he had worked with him for a while. I pointed to Tyler and said, "This is his son." Officer Marchand held Oakley up and with a bit of emotion said, “So, this is Dan’s baby granddaughter.” I looked over at Mom and all the sudden she was "swatting flies" left and right!

The Portneuf PR lady came into the room and said, “Well, news travels fast! Now this is totally up to you and my job is to support your decision and help protect you if need be. I have four news sources that would like to come get your story.” I just laughed out loud and thought, Wow it must be a slow news day for Pocatello. Tyler and I agreed to have them come around 4 pm. Mom ran to get Micah from daycare and I ate some lunch.

Photography by Idaho State Journal
At 4 pm, in came two video cameras, a digital camera, and a recorder. They got the spelling of our names and gave us some instructions then continued on with the interview. It was all rather odd and I worried the entire time that I would say something dumb and they would edit it so I looked like a dumb white trash woman who was too foolish to realize she was in labor so she decided to head to the liquor store by the police station before she headed into the hospital.

After the interview we all just sat in the room for a while soaking everything in. Then we moved to recovery, Room 226. I looked at my phone and had eight texts from different people asking what was going on and what happened. Including one from Dr. Clifford that said, “You bad girl!” I had to call Kay to let her know I had gotten the stuff for the Young Women's activity but she said they were probably just going to head up to the hospital to see us. Natalie Houghton (a friend from the ward) stopped by. I made some other phone calls to family. Travis came, then Tammy and Shayla. While they were there, Dad came.

Nursery stopped in to get her for a bath so Tyler and I kicked everyone out and went to watch. Her short dark hair turned into long light hair! So, so much hair! The young women came and gave me a blanket they had tied. When they left I ate dinner. Rachel Thomas came around nine. We watched the news story then visited til ten. The nursery came to take her away for her hearing test and said they would keep her until she woke to eat. Tyler headed home.

Alone…Alone for the first time in what felt like eternity! I was so tired yet the second I rolled over to sleep the day started reeling though my head and I was wide awake. I laid there for what seemed like forever but was only about a half hour and I fell asleep.

The whole day was crazy. Looking back now, I realize those contractions that I was suffering in silence in the hall at work, that were making me sick, that was transition labor. I realize now, that my body doesn’t do "false labor". It may take a break but it isn’t giving up. I realize that not all laboring is the same, even in the same woman. I realize that with my next baby, when I feel pain in my back, I am having am likely having a baby within six hours. I realize that some people really think me foolish for even going in to work when I was feeling contractions, but they had stopped and I am not the kind of person to sit around waiting for a baby to come. I have things to do.

Of all the things I have come to realize, this is what I realize the most: Women have been having babies for centuries. It is the most natural trauma we can put our bodies through. Our female structures KNOW how to deal with a four, seven, or ten pound ball coming out of a once very small opening. If we just relax and have faith in the strength that we have within us, it will happen. You just do what needs to be done.



1.17.2011

It Happens in Threes, Right??? Or is that Three HUNDRED?

Since I last posted, a few things have happened...

My four year old Jeigh also contracted pink eye, bringing the pink eye totality up to 3 pairs of little goopy, red, leaky eyes.

I have been giving her eye drops left over from the other two kids, but as her eyes have suddenly gotten worse on the third day of drops, I am beginning to wonder if she is allergic to sulfa meds.

My body which has been steadily fighting off viral junk since Christmas gave up and gave in to the funk yesterday morning.

I was tested for H1N1 today and failed...in a good way! Whew! What I have is just some rotten virus that needs time to work itself out.

I cough. Therefore I pee. Ugh.

I developed laryngitis along with the nasty viral crud. No voice? No problem. Maybe I'll give labor and delivery the ol' Scientologist try, eh? Eat your heart out, Tom Cruise.

I caught my dear sweet husband swiping some of my Tylonel and cough drops tonight. He won't admit he's feeling under the weather, but I think I can count on one hand how many times I have seen him take pills. I sure love my tough guy.

Joe's dad goes in for surgery tomorrow morning. If the surgery takes a long time, it is a good thing meaning they are finding the problem and fixing it. If it's short, it means they are giving up for now and letting time take its toll for a bit before trying again.

Last night, I couldn't take it anymore. My emotional and physical reserves ran out and I broke down.

Why???

I'm afraid I can't help but ask... Why is all of this happening all at the same time at this time in our life?

It is just unreal how each day brings new chaos and craziness. I'm getting a little embarrassed to even tell people how things are going as of late. It's just too unbelievable. Maybe that's why I have lost my voice. Time to suffer in silence.

I still believe we will get through all this and be the stronger for it. But good heavens! When is enough "enough"?

P.S. And who gave that sidebar permission to congratulate me? Guess Baby #4 didn't get the memo that today was her due date. I imagine she's trying to hide out as long as possible. I don't blame her; who would want to be born in the midst of all this? I am beginning to think that sitting in a hospital in labor and delivery will be a welcome respite from life as it currently is.

P.P.S. Again, I'm not searching for sympathy. I just need to get all this recorded because it is so unbelievable that I don't know if I will believe it myself in a few weeks when {HOPEFULLY} things have leveled out again.

12.01.2010

Missing My Mojo


When I was a teenager I regularly visited the same hair stylist to get my hair cut and styled. She was awesome! I could count on her to do exactly what I wanted if not better every single time.

And then she got pregnant. And something changed.

It started to become a game of hit and miss when I went in to get my routine hair cut. And as most of us are rather partial to what is going on on top of our heads, I wasn't game for Russian Roulette: Version Hair.

Back then I couldn't understand what had changed her hair cutting ability so drastically.

Now I get it.

You know what it was? It was those dang pregnancy hormones sucking the life out of her mojo.

My mojo is at an all time low. I think I kind of remember being a creative and funny blogger once upon a time. I believe I also enjoyed delving into the creative process and power of writing about more emotional and tender things too. On top of that, I am under the slight impression that I used to be a kind and generous sort as well.

Now with pregnancy hormones raging at an all time high, I feel like an ugly bloated monster of irritation, crankiness, and moot points with little to offer anyone.

Sure there are procreative powers at work in this bulging belly here, but GONE are the creative powers from my muddled mind up here. GONE is the energy and ambition to be...well, nice and tolerant and companionable. GONE is the me I like.

There are so many pretty pretty posts that I have been itching to write and express and share with the world, but once I sit down to write and surrender those precious particles to my keyboard, I am bombarded with...static.

What happened to me??? What happened to my mojo?

That dang brain-sucking, life-giving placenta.

I just hope that once it exits the premises, the damage won't be permanent.

Sadly, my hair dresser never recovered from its effects. Will I share the same fate?

11.18.2010

Chartreuse* Chile Chicken Chimichangas


*(chartreuse: green)

These days I cannot seem to get enough of spicy food during pregnancy, especially spicy Mexican food. Even as I am typing these words my mouth is literally watering for some salsa and chips from a local Mexican restaurant. I would make a run over there right now, jammies and all, but I can’t show my face at that particular restaurant for another few days.

I have already been there twice this week. I don’t know how I feel about being on a first name basis with my spicy food suppliers.

Thanks to heartburn during pregnancy I can’t get too crazy with the spicy food. Eating something too spicy automatically signs me up for a night of suffering and remorse. So I play it safe. No jalapenos or habaneros for this girl, but bring on the salsa and chicken fajitas! I think I could eat both five days a week.

What about the other two days a week?

Well, no sense in getting carried away now is there?

So, what is a girl to do for those two nights she isn’t hovering around the entrance to her local Mexican restaurant?

Make green ( or chartreuse...isn't that fun word?) chili chicken chimichangas at home of course!

Shall I share my little pregnancy food cravings recipe with you? Claro que si!

Green Chile Chicken Chimichangas
(Thanks to Cathy Roberts for the recipe!)

1. Place 4 frozen chicken breasts in a pot and cover with water. Place on stove and heat to boiling. Cover with lid and turn down heat to a simmer. Cook until chicken breasts are cooked through.

2. Pour water off chicken. Trim chicken (I cannot stand finding “mystery objects” in my meat so I trim every bit of cartilage, fat, and ick that I see). Shred chicken well, leaving it in the same pot it was cooked in; no need to dirty more dishes than necessary.

3. Pour one can of green chile enchilada sauce into shredded chicken and stir. Place on low heat to warm through.

4. Heat up one can of refried beans in a non-stick skillet.

5. Heat oil in a fryer to 350 degrees F. I love my Fry Daddy, probably more than I should admit! It contains the mess and the smell of burnt oil. But if you don’t have one, you can just heat up some oil in a skillet.

6. Construct chimichangas by using large flour tortillas. Smear a thin layer of refried beans in middle. Sprinkle generously with shredded cheddar cheese. Spread chicken chile mixture on top of cheese layer.

7. Tuck and wrap tortilla tightly and securely. I usually use toothpicks to secure the tortilla flap.

8. Place chimi in hot oil and rotate often allowing it to fry up evenly. Usually about 3 minutes.


9. Place chimi on plate with paper towels to drain and cool.

10. Enjoy with sour cream, salsa, hot sauce, or guacamole! Delicioso!

Obviously this recipe can be changed to your tastes and preferences. You could make up some rice and add that. You could leave off the beans. You could use black beans instead of refried. Whatever pleases your particular palate!

Got an awesome variation? Do share! Maybe I could cut my Mexican restaurant stalking/habit back another night.

10.21.2010

The Name Game

Today Jeigh asked me if we could name the baby "Hiccup".

I like it.

Any other suggestions if the baby comes out not looking so much like a "Hiccup"?

Before you so willingly offer up your best baby names, here are the stipulations:

1. We need a name of the female persuasion as we are fairly certain she will appreciate not being named something like "Gordon" or "Hogan" when she starts high school.

2. A name that fits in with her siblings would be most...fitting. In case you were wondering "Dee", "Jeigh", and "Elle", and even "Joe" are simply code names I use to stave off perverts and weirdos. For the sake of finding the perfect name for number four, I am going to hope those kinds of people aren't reading this today and reveal my children's true names.

"Dee" is Deacon
"Jeigh" is Eliza Jane
"Elle" is Lydia

See how my code names are a phonetic play on their initials? I know, I know. My cleverness astounds even me.

So, we have good, old-fashioned, religious, southern, pioneer stock like names around these parts. And we'd like to keep it that way.

3. I am not fond of popular names. I want to avoid my child becoming Emma P. so as not to be confused with Emma T. The farther down the list of the Top 100 Most Popular names it is, the better. On the other hand, I am not fond of "weird", far-out names either. Picky, picky. But I am sure there is a nice middle ground around there somewhere.

4. This baby will have two older sisters whose names end in "a". It could be fun to stick with that, but certainly not necessary. Those two sisters also both have "l" sounds at the beginning of their names as we often call Eliza, "Liza". These similar name sounds make for lots of tongue-twisting trouble when we start calling for our children.

Bottom line: Names ending in "a" = good. Names starting with "l" sounds = not good.

5. Before we settle on anything, you can count on me looking up the name meaning. I have a thing for name meanings. I love knowing that my name means "the mother of all living". Fancy, no? My husband kind of got the bum-end of the deal where his name means "hills of clay". Poor guy. But don't feel too bad for him; he doesn't seem to lose any sleep over it.

So, there are my stipulations for our baby girl's name. Think I am making this far too complicated?

Maybe we should just go with "Hiccup".

9.03.2010

Love is Two Dozen Chocolate Donuts


I think a pretty fair indicator of how much your husband loves you is how willing he is to satisfy your pregnancy food cravings.

If he really, truly adores the ground you walk on, he will leap from the warm matrimonial bed at 2 am to go to the store to buy pickles and processed cheese, no questions asked, hail or high water be damned.

If he's just in it for the free housekeeping, he'll tell you to suck it up when you tell him how badly you need a Sizzler's baked potato with sour cream and butter "RIGHT NOW!".

It is the pregnancy food cravings indicator that showed me the true passionate love my husband has for me. Romeo, Edward Cullen, Brad Pitt... They've got nothing on my man.

Six years ago I was pregnant with our first son. Thus far in my pregnancy I had only experienced food aversions. Much nausea, wailing, and gnashing of teeth had filled the air of our little apartment for the space of several months. Joe and I both began to wonder if I would ever experience what every other pregnant lady on TV and the movies does: unexplainable and obscure cravings for ridiculous foods.

Then one night, it happened. At 3 am I woke with the most intense, burning NEED for a chocolate donut. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't even fall back asleep. Not until I had a chocolate donut. I woke up Joe who was sleeping peacefully next to me. Off to the store he went and came back with two...DOZEN...chocolate donuts.

I ate one.

And that was that. I was satisfied! Back to bed I went, sleeping the sleep of a very content and happy pregnant lady. Joe was left awake with 23 untouched chocolate donuts. Ahhh. The bounteous rewards of true love.

Lest you think his love only extends to chocolaty bounds, another time NOTHING sounded good but an Olive Garden salad. And yes it HAD to be Olive Garden. Since the closest Olive Garden was three hours away, I had little hope that my stomach would be appeased. My white knight said, "Well, let's go!", and off we went on a three hour car ride just to get me an Olive Garden salad.

Truly, I pity those woman who are stuck in loveless marriages. The other day, a friend of mine was telling me that whenever she experiences those intense cravings during her pregnancies that her husband tells her it is all in her head and no way is he going to go get her ice cream.

Joe, on the other hand, calls me often on his way home from work asking if he should stop by Dairy Queen to get me something. Funny thing is...I don't ever really crave ice cream...

Hmm... You don't think he could be taking advantage of this pregnancy thing, do you?

Nah. I'm going to stick with his undying, eternally burning, passionate love for food me.

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