Abez Is... 50% White,50 % Pakistani,Muslim Hijab-wearing type female, Daughter of Momma, Sister of OwlieWife of HF,Momma of Khalid, a special little boy with Autism, and Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair,Writer,Graphic Designer, Editor, Freelancer, Blogger, Inhaler of Chocolate
really, he's my cousin. Wish he would update more.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
So I spent another night in the hospital, as the doctors tend to recommend that you do when you're in early labor. And then we escaped. And then today we went back for our CTG appointment, and the doctors again said, you're in early labor and strongly recommended we stay. And you know what we said? RUN AWAY!!!! I live ten minutes from the hospital, and if I'm going to languish in the labor twilight zone, I'm going to languish here at home!
Yes, I am in early labor, no, we have no idea how long this could take. Technically, I've been in early labor since the 23rd. I feel immense, and today the consultant who saw me asked the nurse if I was carrying twins. No, no twins, just one very stubborn little baby!
Khalid spent the weekend with HF's parents, who have been both delighted and exhausted to have his crazy-pants company. HF has gone to retrieve him now, and when he returns, we will finish watching Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind. HF bought me the entire Miyazaki collection so I have stuff to watch in the hospital. As usual, HF is my hero. :)
They'll be back soon, so I need to go straighten up while I still can and then get some food ready for Khalid. Keep us in your prayers, and in the mean time, have some Monty Python.
And for HF who brought me a whole gallon of Dutch Chocolate to begin with.
We're home from two nights in the hospital, but we still seem to be pregnant. *checks enormous stomach* Yep, definitely still pregnant. In what may be a perfectly normal but seriously frustrating experience in childbearing, we've been in early labor two days now, nothing overly painful, all systems basically go, but no active labor to push Mystery Bean into making his/her debut.
The nurses told me to walk, so I walked. And when that didn't work, I raced HF up the hospital stairwell, and then we walked some more. I've spent two nights and two days walking around the hospital, and finally the doctors gave in to my insistence on going home. I figured if I am going to walk and wait, I might as well in the comfort of my own house with a bowl of my own ice cream.
Today we are Term + 6, which is the medical way of saying this baby should have been out six days ago. If I'm still pregnant by T+8, then I have a scheduled induction waiting for me, which is the medical way of saying that this baby is going to be served an eviction notice!
It's been an interesting experience, but I will blog more about it later. There's a nap with my name on it, and I'm going to go fall into it face-first.
If I just *pretend* that the baby is due this weekend, maybe I can attend the two weddings and two henna parties I've been invited to in the next two days, starting today. Right! Okay! Off we go, to a mehndhi!
(If anyone needs me, I'll be the guest that looks like a cannon ball in an abaya!)
Yes, this really is my 600th post, and yes, it really is going to be about zombies.
I used to play video games, and for some odd reason, that involved fighting alot of zombies. I'm not sure why the manufacturers of these games are so caught up in vanquishing zombies- it's not like the real world has a serious undead infestation and as art imitates life, so must gaming. But, I understand why the zombies and not, say... the commies. Zombies are non-political, non-trademarked enemies that everyone understands and no one can really be offended by. Also, they're scary.
Way too scary, for people like me apparently, who have not played any zombie-themed video games for years but still find themselves hosting zombie-dreams at night. Which is why, Khalid, Mystery Bean- you guys are only getting adorable video games with adorable non-dead enemies. And no blood. Or gore. Or eating of peoples' faces.
I never thought I would be one of those uptight parents, but I fully expect to have both Khalid and Mystery Bean whining at me in a store about why they can't buy BloodBath of the Starving Undead in the Castle of Carnage- The Sequel! (Director's Cut: Now with more gore!) And I'm not sure how to go about convincing them that violent, gory video games will rot their brains, apart from providing my own example.
(We are not buying you that horrible game!) (But Momma, why not?) (It'll give your momma nightmares!)
I suppose I'll just have to explain it to them as best as I can and provide non-gory alternatives until they're old enough to believe me. It seems dramatic and ridiculous, but there are still certain sounds, certain shadows- certain little creaks that stairs make- and all of a sudden I'm Jill Valentine,Leon, or Aya Brea, and I'm alone in the dark with no ammo, none of that magic first-aid spray, and no chance of surviving the onslaught.
So yeah. No zombies for Khalid and Mystery Bean.
And speaking of Mystery Bean, today is his/her due date, and no show! What gives! I know the 19th is only halfway over (it's noon) but come on kid! Get out already! My account at babycenter.com, which has sent me week-by-week email on pregnancy for the last 40 weeks, has already switched over to newsletters for newborns!
I have nightmares pretty often these days as my sleeping brain tries to make its own explanation up for why we're in pain. Though the real reason is full-term pregnancy, my brain thinks it's zombies. Our stomach hurts not because we have indigestion, but because the zombies got us. Our legs hurt not because of poor circulation, but because the zombies are chewing on them. If our arm hurts, it's not because we have it wedged uncomfortably against the headboard- not unless the zombies did that for us too.
So I woke up this morning, a lil disoriented and scared and shaken (yep, zombies) and hearing a sound from outside the bedroom, ran out hoping it was HF and not merely zombies using his toothbrush. HF, seeing the look on my face as well as what the zombies probably did to my hair in the middle of the night, immediately understood and did what he always does- he rescued me. :) We had a hug and two chocolate cookies and watched the trailer for Wall-E, by which time the zombies were old news. We woke up Khalid, tickled him until he looked less groggy, and then sent HF on his merry (and InshaAllah safe) way to work.
I love HF. I can't say that often enough, really. The other day, when I called him on the phone and demanded something chocolate, he came back with four packs of chocolate cookies and half a gallon of Baskin Robbins.
Midnight a few days before that, as I was going on my third half-hour of trying to battle Khalid to sleep, HF burst suddenly through the darkened bedroom door (ran back to turn on the lights, and then burst in again) to inform me that he was here to rescue me. Bebeface stopped caterwauling, HF gave me a hug, and then we did my favorite thing in the world- we unpacked boxes and cleaned the house. :) Two hours later, with the house clean and Khalid too exhausted to put forth resistance, we went peacefully to bed.
I *was* about to put all three of us (Khalid & Mystery Bean and I) down for a much-needed nap, except we experienced a slight detour on the way to the bedroom, where Khalid discovered, and promptly attempted to eat, a live beetle.
And I, in all the grossness that is being the Momma of a little boy, reached in and pulled the live beetle out of his mouth.
And Khalid ran away and threw a tantrum in a corner by the bathroom. (my snaa-aaa-aaaaack! bwaaaa-haaaaa-haaaa!)
And the beetle got back on its feet and resumed its wobbly journey across the living room carpet.
And I went for the vacuum cleaner.
I'll feel sorry for the beetle later. Right now I'm grossed out. And sleepy.
First of all, a word about the bees. After my last post, I crawled into bed, pulled the covers up to my ears and went to sleep. I woke up about an hour later with HF tucking the blankets around me and and whispering, "There are no bees, shhh, go back to sleep."
I drifted off to sleep thinking- my hero! and snoozed happily for another half an hour.
When I properly woke up, around Asr time, HF and Khalid were both still asleep, so I figured I'd get up and go on a tour of my now bee-free house. In the living room, there were two dead bees on the window sill, and in the kitchen, around six or seven. I was a bit surprised, since when I went to sleep I really, literally had dozens and dozens of bees, and the idea that only a handful had fallen in HF's anti-bee offensive seemed a little odd, but I was happy to have such a minor clean-up job.
Now, imagine my surprise when HF woke up and clarified that his statement of "There are no bees," did not actually mean "There are no longer any bees because I, your brave and wonderful husband, have killed them all. Sirrah." It actually meant "There aren't any bees there. Because I can't find any, my adorably kooky wife. "
For two days HF teased me about InvisiBees. And then I found one last dead bee in the living room and I saved it for him and showed it to him, but it hasn't made much of a difference- he thinks it's the funniest thing ever, and I have to admit- it's seems ridiculous to have an invasion of bees, call for reinforcements, and then suddenly not have an invasion anymore. Where did they all go? Why did they up and leave? And why did they leave a whole bunch of dead bees behind? Political infighting? Bee gang violence?
It doesn't end there. Yesterday, my purse was full of ants. Hundreds of ants. And I wore said purse, and said ants, to the car, and when I put my purse down on the seat, it rained ants. And there were ants in my clothes, and ants in my wallet, and ants other places where one never, ever wants ants (like in one's chewing gum).
I gracefully and calmly exited the car (hooray for artistic license), threw my purse on the floor, shook off my clothes and raged at the ants for a while. Then I picked my purse up with the two smallest parts of two of my bravest fingers, and shook it out onto the floor- money, pretzel sticks, gum, phone, wallet... everything crawling with ants whose take on the entire eviction seemed to be "RUN FOR IT!"
I shook off the few items I considered essential (I had been on my way to pick up HF from work, and was already running late) cash, phone, keys- and took my indignant self and all of my heebie-jeebies back to the car, where we swatted ants off the seats and floor mats for a while before heading off, 20 minutes late.
Half-way home again, after I had already narrated my misadventures, complete with dramatic reenactment and insistence on a new purse (and a new car, and maybe a new house), the ants that had started out on the floor had made it to the ceiling, and two of them dropped onto HF while one of them plodded admirably along, upside down towards the windshield.