Non-committal

Check up

Went to the doctor to have a follow up on the healing process of my Franken-vag. Needless to say, when I saw said doctor I got dizzy and thought "fight or flight!?" My instructions were: Please stay outside the touch zone. I made it through the visit, sort of.

Anyway, the nurse was doing her routine questioning and asked, hesitantly, eggshell-esque, "Weeeellllll, in a few weeks the doctor will be asking you about your plans for birth control. Have you thought at all about that?"

Me: "Yes."

Her: "Um, well, um, what would you say your plans are? Are you familiar with the options? I, uh, ..."

Me: "Dude, whatever is MOST effective."

Her, obviously relieved.

Apparently there are people who have two kids inside of 12 months. Psychopaths.

Modern medicine and its Stadol and dissolvable stitches got me through this; modern medicine and its birth control methods are going to ensure I have control over whether I ever do it again. 

Politics

Baby M watched her first presidential debate. I decided to vote for the candidate who was not talking when she barfed all over me. Halfway through the very first question it was decided: we are officially abstaining in 2012. Tough crowd.

Back off

So, it has been about 14 days since my childbirth experience. Days 2-14 have been textbook with  late nights, tired self, soreness, lovey-dovey baby oggling, taking pictures, being typical "oh, look at what she just now did, isn't it cute?" parents, etc. I am absolutely enjoying all of it (well, my nipples have seen better days), but there is also this big grey shadow hanging over me.

It is you. You know who who you are. You're the "next time" people. People who have already staked a claim on one of my unfertilized eggs and are asking me if we've picked out names yet.

"Next time, you can go to the hospital earlier and get the epidural if you have back pain."

"Next time, breastfeeding is so much easier."

"Next time, they seem to grow up faster." 

"Next time, maybe you'll have a boy...or twins!"

Now if that last statement isn't enough to send me to the land of celibacy, I am not sure what is. 

But, really, it took us eight freaking years to decide whether or not to have this one single little person join our insular little duo. We don't even know if the three of us are compatible yet. It's like roommate roulette - no chance to even interview her to see whether she likes dogs, is vegan, or has crazy relatives (she does!). And already everyone has their Jump To Conclusions Mat out and is predicting due dates for Baby Next Time.

As far as I'm concerned, I have one, single baby. Will there be a next time? We're back where to where we were before I got knocked up this time: maybe, maybe not, in five years, none of your business.

Just like couples who don't have any kids can have a complete, whole-life existence with the appropriate amounts of self-fulfillment and happiness, so can people with a single kid, or two kids, or five kids, or...well, more than five seems a little extreme. (It's like throwing a sausage down a hallway?)

Jelly belly

I know that the baby belly can't magically disappear overnight, but it doesn't even disappear after two weeks?!? I still look five months pregnant, but now it's all squishy and ugly. All my tight little  belly showing maternity gear now looks gross. I need more zip front hoodies and sweatpants. 

Snurgle

It's a noise this kid makes. Like a gurgle, a snore, and a stuffy nose. So cute. 

Disturbing

It is slightly disturbing that I keep thinking, "I wonder when her parents are due to come pick her up? We should call them."

I still can't believe that she is ours, for good, with no background check or competency test. Also, two weeks feels like a fun little foray into parenting, but it hasn't sunk in that this is a whole-lifestyle modification. We. Are. Parents. Luckily she's perfect and I'm smitten. And, of course if someone tried to come take her from me, I would scratch out their eyeballs, but the back of my mind lurker is still skeptical about whether we are capable of this.

One day at a time we go.