Some things only happen to me

<p>I’m pretty sure my supervisors here at work think I’m some kind of nut who makes up this stupid things no one even believes to get out of working. Yeah, they probably do.</p>

<p>But I’m telling you, some things only happen to me. And here’s proof:</p>

<p>Yesterday I was working the 7 am-2 pm shift. You know, my back is aching like a motherfucker, but what can I do, other than suck it up and take it like a man? So I’m working, and at 11 am I get a phone call from my sister. I answer the phone, and hear a little kitten in the background. Naturally, my cat’s babies come to mind (she had 3 a month ago). So I ask my sister what in the hell she’s doing with one of the babies, and she answers her boyfriend’s godfather (who lives up the street from my house) found her wandering around. Outside. Obviously, that’s not possible, because one-month-old kittens don’t just get out of the house magically. Besides, Michael and I locked the house before we left for work. So, of course, my paranoid, hormonal mind thinks &quot;oh fuck someone broke into my house and left the door wide open and they stole everything and the babies got out of the house and I’m going to find them all splattered on the street where they were ran over by a car someone please kill me&quot;.</p>

<p>And (I know you were expecting this) I immediately burst into tears in front of my supervisor because I’m all the way over here and can’t do anything about the fact that they just robbed my house and my cats are dead and wah; so my supervisor told me I could go home and see what was going on (he’s just too effin’ nice for words).</p>

<p>And then I got home, and you’ll never guess what it was.</p>

<p>Go on, I dare you. Guess.</p>

<p>It was another cat, who looked exactly like mine. Same stripes. Same eyes. Maybe a week younger, but she definitely looked like she was Doobie’s (yeah. That’s my cat’s name. I know what you’re thinking, and it’s got nothing to do with that. I’ll tell the story some other time) daughter, but she wasn’t. Meaning that no one robbed my house and the cats were just fine. All that mayhem for nothing.</p>

<p>Of course Doobie, being the incredible mom she is, took the baby into her little house, cleaned her and fed her. And then, there were five. Cats. In my house. Plus a dog. Yikes.</p>

<p>So you see? I’m not nuts. Okay, maybe I am, but I definitely don’t have such a fertile imagination. And yet, somehow, I get the feeling people at work think I do.</p>

<p>I am sooo fired.</p>


The Mom Bloggers Carnival is here!!

<p>Yes. The <a href=””>first edition</a> of the <a href=””>Mom Bloggers Carnival</a> is finally here!!! And guess what? One of my posts is there! The excitement! The selfconsciousness! The exclamation points in this post! It’s just too much!</p>

<p><a href=””>Jennifer</a&gt; received some incredible submissions about motherhood. Absolutely amazing. So if you know what’s good for you, hop on over and get some of that mommybloggin’ goodness!</p>

New computer!!!

<p>But guess what? No. Internet.</p>

<p>So I’ll just have to keep posting and reading my beloved blogs at work. Which wouldn’t suck so much if they hadn’t blocked access to USB flash drives, which I’m not sure is related to my blogging but still makes me never want to touch this computers again.</p>

<p>And on some baby-related news, there are NO NEWS. The wait, it is horrible. I mean, it’s so frustrating when you’re not really sure what you can buy because you don’t know if the baby’s a boy or a girl, and you’re just dying to go shopping even if you’re not getting stuff for yourself because you just want to start picking out a stroller and a crib and drapes and bedding sets and clothes and dammit, will you tell me the sex of my baby already!</p>

<p>But you know, no news is good news. I mean, the Bean is moving, like a lot, which is good. But other than that, no news. Which I like to think is also good.</p>

<p>Also! My belly is getting humongous. I really need to post some pics because I’m really amazed I’m only 16 weeks pregnant. I mean, people are taking bets on wether or not I’m having twins, for cryin’ out loud. <em>That’s</em> how big my belly is.</p>

<p>And that is all from San Jose, Costa Rica. Tune in July 15th for… the sex of the baby. If it wishes to show its privates. If it’s anything like mommy, it will. And maybe not even on purpose. Maybe it’s inherited the Immense Dorkitude.</p>

<p>Poor kid.</p>

Mom Bloggers Carnival

<p>How do I love the internet? Let me count the ways…</p>

<p><a onclick=”, ‘_blank’, ‘width=120,height=158,scrollbars=no,resizable=no,toolbar=no,directories=no,location=no,menubar=no,status=no,left=0,top=0’); return false” href=””><img title=”Mbcarnival1″ height=”131″ alt=”Mbcarnival1″ src=”; width=”100″ border=”0″ style=”FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 5px 5px 0px” /></a>Just today I found out about the <a href=””>Mom Bloggers Carnival</a> <a href=””>ClubMom </a>blogger Jennifer James at <a href=””>Joyride through insanity</a> is hosting, and I think it’s a great idea, especially for someone who doesn’t get a lot of traffic on their blog like yours truly. And it’s also a great way to see what other women have written about motherhood because they are, evidently, going to submit the blog entry they think best represents their views on the subject, or an important time or situation they went through since they&nbsp; had kids.</p>

<p>So I think I’m going to go ahead and do it. I’m gonna submit a link to one of my posts. And then get scared shitless because what are all the real bloggers going to think? I mean, these are ladies who got chosen to blog for ClubMom, dammit! They actually know what they’re doing. Even my hero, the Omnisapient Queen of Everything, Amalah, is a blogger there! So yikes.</p>

<p>Hitting send…</p>

<p>There. I sent it. And dammit, I’m squirming already.</p>

Scary stuff

<p>Yesterday, I had the freak-out of a lifetime: I started spotting in the morning, while I was at work.</p>

<p>When I came out of the restroom, my first reaction was: L<em>ook it up on the internet! The internet will tell you what to do! </em>(because yes, I’m that stupid). Of course, after 2 minutes I started thinking <em>What the hell am I doing? What if my baby is dying and I’m sitting here looking for answers on the web?</em> So I, very calmly, told my supervisor, and then burst into tears like a maniac.</p>

<p>Of course, when I told him what was going on, he freaked out too. He told me to go to the hospital immediately, because despite the fact that it could be nothing, it could stil be something, and it was better if I went to get myself checked out by a doctor.</p>

<p>And after I left the office I called my Mom and Dad, because Michael was at work and couldn’t answer the phone. Of course, they tried to calm me down while being incredibly freaked out themselves. So my dad met me at the hospital, and waited outside the room while I was examined.</p>

<p>But on the way to the hospital, I started thinking of what I would do if something happened to the baby. And I decided I’d have my parents commit me at a mental institution because I just wouldn’t be able to take it. Just… no. And then I realised how incredibly strange it is that the thing you don’t want at all at first, is sometimes the very thing you get to love the most.</p>

<p>So I went, and apparently it was nothing. Of course, I’m still a little apprehensive because it didn’t feel like the doctor gave me a good enough examination. I don’t know if I’m just paranoid, but she didn’t even use the doppler, and I thought she might at least want to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. Am I, in fact, paranoid?</p>

<p>Anyway, apparently everything is okay, and I have a prenatal appointment on monday, so I’ll tell the doctor all about <em>the incident</em>&nbsp; and see what she thinks. And well, at least I got to watch the Costa Rica-Germany game at home and not at work. We lost, but we played pretty well.</p>

<p>And I’m now starting to ramble about the World Cup, so I guess that’s my cue to end the post here and go watch the Argentina-Côte D’Ivoire match. Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.</p>

Because even with the Almighty Amalah, there are not enough posts about puke in the world wide web

<p>First of all, I’ve been exceptionally tired, what with all the carrying of a baby my body is doing and all. Cellular division is really tiring, I’ll tell you. And that’s why I’ve failed to update like a normal person.</p>

<p>Second of all, I hate Murphy. And his <a href=”’s_law”>damn laws</a>. Despise him. And here’s why.</p>

<p>Yesterday I was telling my aunts how I thought my morning sickness had receded THANK GOD, and that I was actually feeling really well except for, you know, my back, but I’ve already complained about back pain on another post, so moving on.</p>

<p>Anyhoo, today I get up reeeeally early to go to work, and as soon as I get out of the shower I feel this horrible nausea and, for some reason, my body starts to resist. So I start gasping for air, but I feel the inevitable vomit about to come out. See, throwing up had never been a problem for me before; because I suffer from migraines and the only way I would feel better was by throwing up, so I would gladly do it as long as it meant no more pain. But since I got pregnant my body tends to resist it, which makes me feel like crap, because I end up puking anyways, tired and pretty much feeling like I want to die.</p>

<p>So I ended up bent over the toilet throwing up nothing but gastric juice wich completely burnt my throat, all the while hearing in my head how the Universe would go <em>hee-hee!</em> on me Nelson-style, and thinking <em>damn Murphy’s laws!! Damn them to hell!!</em></p>

<p>Tha daily puke post was brought to you by C’est la vie.</p>


11 weeks, 4 days

<p>That’s how far along I was yesterday, when I went to a decent gynecologist who could actually tell me something that made some sense.</p>

<p>As usual, my mom was there with me (Did I tell you guys I love my mommy?). Michael couldn’t be there ’cause he had to work, which sucks, because he missed the first ultrasound I got that involved someone who actually knew something about something.</p>

<p>The baby was moving so much, and he looks like a person now. A tiny, 2 inch person with a head, arms, legs, and a face. A FACE!!! Eyes, nose, mouth. You name it, the baby’s got it. </p>

<p>So yeah, I think after yesterday I’ve completely come to terms with the fact that we’re having a kid. Actually, it’s more than that: I’m happy. Excited. I was actually proud of the way the baby was moving. And if that doesn’t say &quot;first-time mom who is proud about anything her child does, even the gigandous snot bubble he blew the other day&quot;, I don’t know what does.</p>

<p>So yeah, I’m happy. And maybe even a little sappy.</p>

<p>Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to cry just a little.</p>

The post I hope my kid will never read

<p>Now that I’ve been listed in <a href=””>Babes in Blogland</a>, I’ve been reading some of the blogs listed there, and I stumbled upon a post by Becci at <a href=””>Bedrest and Beyond</a>. She has an Incompetent Uterus, so she wanted to tell people what pregnancy is like when you suffer from IC. And boy, did she get me thinking. </p>

<p>Because truth be told, having a baby wasn’t in my plans. At all. My plan was to never have kids, or at least wait until Michael and I had been married for about 5 years before incorporating anyone else in this equation. But preferably never. </p>

<p>Sometimes I think about this and try to pinpoint the real reasons why I decided this was what I wanted. First, I suffer from scoliosis and lordosis, both of which affect the spine. The first one gives the spine an inward curve; the second one curves it to a side, which makes my spine look like an S on x-rays. When I spoke to a physiotherapist, she said I’d have to be put on bedrest since my 4th month if I got pregnant. So I figured if I could barely handle the pain without being pregnant, how the hell was I going to live if I added more weight to my back? I might sound selfish, but I was definitely not prepared to put my life on hold for the sake of having a baby. Not yet, that’s for sure. I mean, I have a stinky job which hurts my back like there’s no tomorrow (sitting down 8 hours a day without the possibility of going anywhere except on your 30 min lunch break in which, guess what, I have to order in and eat it in the kitchen because I. Need. Food. To. Live, can be really bad for your back), I’m going to start school, and I’m just going to get married, so why would I want to complicate things even more. </p>

<p>A little over a week after I got married, I started feeling really weird. I had been feeling weird before the wedding, but my mom and I just thought it was stress. It wasn’t. I’m just the biggest moron ever. I mean, I used to smoke 2 packs of Marlboro Menthols a day, and all of a sudden, I start feeling sick every time I light up a cigarette. Nah, just stress. Then I can’t eat because food makes me want to puke. Stress. I sleep 50,000 hours a day. Stress, I tell you! </p>

<p>And then, I got married. And my so-called stress level would not budge. Sleepy, pukey and everything else. And a week went by, until the day when I came to work feeling especially lousy, wanting to puke but also wanting to eat an avocado sandwich. By 10 am, I felt like I was about to barf all over my desk. So I asked for permission to go home. And then I called my friend Marcela and told her that maybe, just maybe, I should get a blood test. You know, to rule out a pregnancy because I obviously wasn’t pregnant. So I go and take the blood test, and then we go to my other friend Marcela’s. And we open the envelope. And there it is: POSITIVE. So I start crying because life is so fucking unfair. I never wanted to have a kid and I did everything I possibly could to avoid it. No way. I don’t know how, but I’m not having this kid. (In Costa Rica, abortion is illegal, so it’s incredibly hard and expensive to get one. Pretty impossible). </p>

<p>When I get home it takes me a while to work up the courage to tell Michael. I tell him to sit next to me in bed because I need to talk to him about something very important. He just looks at me like Dammit, you don’t want a divorce already, do you? And I tell him he’s going to be a daddy. He stares into space for a few minutes, I start crying like crazy because, again, this was not what I wanted, and life is unfair, so wah. And then, he holds me in his arms and tells me it’s going to be okay. He loves me more than anything in the world, especially now that I’m about to make him the happiest man on earth. And for that, I love him more than I ever thought possible. </p>

<p>Michael, my parents, my brother and sister, my friends. They have all taken it upon themselves to make me see that this is not a bad thing. That this baby did not come from a one night stand or some other not-so-good circumstances, but from the love my husband and I have for each other. That this child will make us happy in ways we can only imagine. And that I should enjoy this, because there are so many people out there who won’t get to have it. And when I saw that little bean for the first time I really felt it. I love this tiny person. I would never go back to the way things were before I knew of its existence. And now my heart is filled with the desire to protect it, and make it feel loved.</p>

<p>Kid, I can barely wait to hold you in my arms so you can see how much we love you. You just don’t know.</p>

You know? Some updating would be nice

<p>Okay, so I understand that part of the idea of having a blog is updating. Okay, maybe that’s the <em>whole </em>idea. But hey, I’m doing it, although I’m not quite sure who I’m updating for. Maybe one of my friends will read this.</p>

<p>On Monday, I had my first ultrasound. Michael and my mom were there. And of course, something had to go wrong. The doctor, who was at least 80,000 years old, was… I really can’t describe it. First, he BEGGED ME to have an intravaginal ultrasound (yeah, because I’m in just the right mood to have stuff shoved up my vagina). I mean, he begged me. And my mom was like, <em>don’t you let him do that!</em> And Michael was just looking from me, to my mom, to the doctor like <em>okay, what does this guy think he’s doing?</em></p>

<p>Then, being the two biggest crybabies in the world, my mom and I were almost reduced to tears as soon as that little white blotch appeared on the screen. And the only thing Michael could do was hold my hand and stand in awe of the fact that<em> oh my god, there is a person inside my wife and oh my god, it shares genetic material with both of us.</em></p>

<p>And it was all great, until the doctor said that my 3/4 of an inch baby was 12 weeks old. Uh-huh! a) it’s nowhere near the size it should be at 12 weeks. And 2) I had a blood test done about 2.5 months ago, plus an US at my GYN consult like 2 months ago, and let me tell you, I was not pregnant then, dammit!</p>

<p>So even though I went to get that god damned ultrasound done because I couldn’t wait ’till my prenatal appointment next month to find out how far along the pregnancy is, I’m still gonna have to wait, ’cause that damn moron couldn’t even tell me that. But at least we got to meet our baby. The tiny person who will depend on us for the first years of his or her life, and whom we already love more than anything else in the world.</p>

<p>P.S.: I need to scan the prints of the US. But you should see how cute my baby is! Like the cutest white blotch ever! (I know. Pathetic, huh?)</p>

In the beginning

<p>So, this is the first post.</p>

<p>Really don’t know what to say.</p>

<p>I mean, I should be better at this by now. I’ve had a blog for a few months now, in Spanish, since I’m from Costa Rica. But this feels quite different.</p>

<p>My <a href=””>other blog</a> is… I don’t know. An outlet for me, and a means for my friends to know what’s going on in my life. And that’s it, because only 2 or 3 people read it.</p>

<p>So, I decided to start this blog. Because, of course, I’m having a kid, and how the hell am I going to do it without the beautiful, almighty Internet? I. Need. Support. And of course, I’m not going to get it on my other blog. I don’t know anyone other tan yours truly who reads mommyblogs (there. I’ve said it) here in Costa Rica.</p>

<p>I mean, I do have support. I do. I have my friends who are extremely excited, I have my husband, and my parents (who will soon find out, I hope) and siblings. But I still feel like I need support from total strangers who just happen to stumble upon my blog and tell me it’s going to be alright. Yup, I’m that stupid.</p>

<p>Anyways, I’m going to be documenting my pregnancy in this blog. And I hope someone (anyone) drops by to help me. Because, God, do I need help. </p>

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