drafting up a "birth plan"

My birth plan at 3 months pregnant:


By 5 months pregnant, I decided that I would require minions.


With only 11 weeks to go before my due date, I'm taking things a bit more seriously and am feeling a little more selective as to how my "ideal birth experience" would go:
it involves bringing James Doohan back to life.


My "Actually takes place on planet earth in the year 2007" plan isn't going as well, but Mr. Hubby and I have come to a few conclusions:

Professionals can take care of the damn cord - neither of us particularly like cutting raw meat, much less pulsating meat attached to me.

Along those lines, they can keep the placenta. It never occurred to me to throw a meatloaf against the wall to see what pattern it would make, so placenta-prints are not for me. Also? I've participated in enough culinary disasters that I'm not going near that thing with a fork.

Since I deprived Mr. Hubby of finding out if we're having a boy or girl, he will be the first person to tell me the baby's gender, even if it involves putting muzzles on everyone else who is present.

The post-birth eye drops can wait an hour - not that I think my kid will have any trouble seeing my (newly) ginormous dark nipples, but I imagine I wouldn't appreciate a bunch of blur-inducing crap in my eyes after a journey that rough.

Unless my kid is in obvious need, no snot sucker will be used, a little hacking and some time at tit central station will sort things out just fine. Most videos I've seen, professionals swoop in as soon a the nose and mouth are visible: "Welcome to the world sweetie, lemme jam a rubber nozzle up your nose and down your throat"

So, I know I've got lots of work to do . . . and yet I'm still stuck on the idea of just beaming the kid out.

* Achoo! *

*warning*
whiny-ass post

Under "normal" circumstances, I am not a person prone to colds. I recently threw away cold medication because it expired over a year ago - and only four doses had been taken. And I highly suspect that two of those four doses were taken by ailing friends.

Yesterday, I was somewhat relieved to be told by my midwife that I'm "allowed" to take Sudafed products and use medicated chest rub (aka Vick's Vapo-Rub). Until then I had been battling my cold symptoms by attempting to create a storm system within my bedroom: AC pumped up to 75 degrees (yes that IS cold, you weirdos!), small fan blowing directly at my face (otherwise I feel like I'm suffocating), and a humidifier chugging away on the opposite side of the bed. The irony is that it is SUPER humid in the Mid-West this time of year, but my need for cold air "dries out" my house to 65% humidity (again, yes, that IS dry).

Helooooooo, my blog name is JungleBetti; my home is full of pets and houseplants, and I thrive in warm-ish temperatures with high-ish humidity levels.

Anywho, being "allowed" to take medication while pregnant and feeling confident about taking medication while pregnant are two entirely different entities. I stressed the hell out over smearing myself with generic Vaop-Rub (what the hell does Camphor do to a fetus?!) and ultimately taking some Sudafed. I was in tears last night as I swallowed that fateful pill, but it was that or be awake ALL night - I simply don't know how to fall asleep while breathing through my mouth, and coughing spasms would have woken me up even if I could figure it out.

So now I have something *new* to add to my list of things to feel guilty about.

I'll share an abbreviated version of my "not a good mom" list:

Had a Killian's-fueled St.Patrick's day before figuring out I was pregnant.

Took an "Aleve" before roller-derby practice before figuring out I was pregnant.

Forgetting to take all my pre-natal vitamins on a fairly regular basis.

Chronically eating Blueberry Toaster Tarts instead of blueberries and yogurt.

Ingesting god-knows-whatever chemicals make up Sudafed and Vapo-Rub.

In non-pouty news, the kid is still squirming away, and that makes me feel a bit better.

a rare sighting

Back in mid-July, MadameD asked me how short my hair was. This got me thinking *again* about my inclination to not post photos of myself. Under past circumstances, my conclusion would still be "no photos of friends/family/me on my blog". My past reasoning would involve the BoogeyMan and the fact that I visit plenty of photo-less blogs and find them very interesting.

And now a baby is on the horizon, and I can't actually imagine writing about my baby without posting photos of him/her - I can't stop myself from posting cute photos of my dog!

To finally get to my point: I'm slowly warming up to being less anonymous. I may never post a non-muffled image of myself, I like hiding behind my jankedy alterations.



This photo was taken in October of 2003, minutes before I married Mr. Hubby. I have the same haircut these days, and other than a small-ish baby bump, look the same.

Yes - my eyes ARE closed . . . that way you can't see me!

Early Nursery Pics . . .

At long last, I'm happy to show off a mostly empty, finally painted nursery!



This is the fantastico star blanket that Madame DeBarge made.
It is by far the coolest thing the kid has received; I'm grateful to have a car seat/stroller, a crib, and a metric ton of baby clothes - but this is the kind of thing you try to keep forever!

I have been hiding this blanket from all my pets, who have a knack for trying to take ownership of my favorite items (or anything I pay too much attention to, possibly depriving them of attention for more than three minutes). To their credit, I have purchased used knit baby blankets from garage sales for them to nap/shed on in the hopes that they spend a little less time shedding on my furniture. As you can see, Suki wasted no time whatsoever in trying to lay claim to the forbidden baby blankie - other than moving the frog hamper over to conceal my painting error, this photo was not staged, no cookie bribery was involved.



Note to self: paint chips lie. Yellow paint is always much more vibrant and bright on walls than you can possibly imagine. I was actually considering getting an even more intense color of yellow - thank goodness I opted for the slightly more subdued color! In person, the color resembles watered-down orange juice, and the dresser is the color of butter. Given that the wine-red carpet was not going anywhere, I'm quite pleased with how this turned out. All the same, I hope the yellow seems less intense once I've got more baby stuff moved into the room.

I had goldenrod/yellow shag carpet in my room when I was little, and one of the walls had fantastic gaudy yellow/gold/orange/brown flowers and vines on a white background. I can only guess that's why I'm inflicting this color scheme on my future baby?

Do you remember how your room was decorated when you were a tiny kid?

2069.11 miles safety zone

For ONCE, I have found reason to be happy that my sister is living over two thousand miles away from me. She'll have a hard time kicking my butt from such a distance!

On Sunday night, I promised her that I would take a belly photo of myself and email it to her. . . . and I haven't done it yet. Now that my derby league's first home bout is over (WE WON!!!) and one of my shouldn't-be-my-problem tasks at work has been delegated to someone else (HOORAY!) I really don't have a great excuse for my tardiness.

Now that I think (type?) if it, if she were within butt-kicking distance, she's be able to see my belly and this wouldn't be an issue.

Regardless, I'm being a slacker - but a slacker who is finally done painting the nursery walls and is slowing moving baby items into the nursery in a feeble attempt to bring the rest of the house back to "normal".

At the risk of being a huge liar, I'll post some belly and nursery pics (including the blakine from MadameDebarge) later this week.

* * *
Tomorrow, I am going to the ______ State Fair with my parents, where I plan on eating the worlds finest pork burger sandwich, corn on the cob, a chocolate milkshake, a portion of elephant ear, and other fantastic carnie food. I also aspire to take at least a dozen decent photos and not pass out from the heat, but I'm mostly focused on fooooooood these days.

I'm alive!

Just wanted to convince you that I'm alive and mostly well; these days I'm feeling more like Frankenstein's monster than the lively doctor, but I'm sure I'll be in better shape soon.

I've been revisiting exhausted-and-nauseated land lately, and boy it seems to suck worse the second time around! I made a whiny call to my medical office and was told to stick to bland foods, extra liquids and plenty of rest - talk about "DUH!!" advice!

I was actually insulted that I wasn't told to at least pee in a cup - but apparently none of my weird-ass symptoms add up to anything to be concerned about, I'm assuming because "the kid"/"Gozer"/"Baby Rampage" continues to use my uterus as a private mosh pit. My midwife was out of the office, and apparently the male OB/GYN who took my message didn't understand how creepy it is to feel like your unborn child is kicking you IN the cooter? I damn near expected to see a tiny foot sticking out!

* * *

When work slows down a bit and I'm less obsessed with sleeping non-stop I'll get back to visiting all my bloggie friends. . . . what's new with you anyway??

IN SUPER FANTASTIC NEWS:
Madame DeBarge sent me the most fantastic baby blanket EVER and I am both rude and a lame-ass fool for not having posted a photo of it yet, much less written her a thank-you.

IN OTHER FANTASTIC NEWS:
My roller derby team has their first home bout this Saturday. I'm really looking forward to the spectacle, and really looking forward to getting my life back for a little while afterwards. "Volunteer Coordinating" is not for weenies, and possibly not for somewhat-sickly pregnant women. I've had a ball being so involved with the league, but hope to high heaven that getting the next two home bouts arranged is much much easier than this!