Tag Archives: humor

First Ultrasound: A Landmark

Coliseum Theater New Orleans The building was damaged in Hurricane Katrina in August 2005; work was ongoing to restore it when it caught fire in February 2006 and was a total loss and the ruins demolished. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Coliseum_Theater_New_Orleans_To_Have_and_Have_Not.jpg
Coliseum Theater New Orleans
The building was damaged in Hurricane Katrina in August 2005; work was ongoing to restore it when it caught fire in February 2006 and was a total loss and the ruins demolished.
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Coliseum_Theater_New_Orleans_To_Have_and_Have_Not.jpg

My pregnancy is advancing. 3 months already… I realized that pregnancy came with its surprises and I wondered, how come so many women got through the same thing but so little is told about some experiences throughout the whole process…

A few days ago turned out to be a landmark of surprises for me. I finally met my obstetrician, who seems very nice. I was expecting to be brushed off after a brief look at my blood tests… but I was actually asked if I wanted get an ultrasound done… Something I thought was unreachable here in Canada. As far as I can tell, most clinics do not have ultrasounds… And even if they do, it is hard to meet all the requirements to get to one, to feel the cool touch of one on the tummy…

So I thought the soonest I would be able to have the cold, transparent, semi liquid thing squished on my belly and be used as a skating ring for an ultrasound gadget would be in a month, at four months, that is…

Well, apparently, I was supposed to have gotten my ultrasound sooner… As told by my obstetrician, no other person I saw until I finally made it to her said anything about that! Come on, this is once in a lifetime (for me) experience and you guys are making me miss out on stuff…

Plus, I paid 130 dollars for it… The result: There really is a living thing in me!!! It was incredible… I shed a few tears, and could not believe, though it may sound cliché, that my hubby and I could have unprotected sex and produce a living being!

I never thought much about human’s or any other creature’s ability to procreate, but since that day at the obstetrician, this has changed for me… I cannot believe that the body whose only function was to move around, eat and shit until 3 months ago has now taken on a new mission, producing the right environment for a new living being to flourish…

Cheesy but still, it all gets one to wonder…

I was also astounded by how much that little thing of 5 cm, a tiny replica of the smallest baby, complete with a set of legs and arms and a huge round head (much like my husband’s) was moving! No one ever had told me that babies move no matter how small they are. I thought it would be sleeping and resting like a sea cucumber!

But no! It was so active that the doctor had difficulty making some measurements. Now I see why every parent to be, on seeing their kid on the ultrasound decide it will be a footballer…

Mine will be a dancer… despite the giant daddy head 😛

Hormonal resentment of the week: Of all the screenshots my dearest doctor (whom I will be seeing maybe 6 more times?) before labor only to be greeted by a completely strange person dressed in green to be by my side as one of the most valued parts of my body are being ripped apart…

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Baby Or Not Baby? That is the Question!

Concert in the Egg, from The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch This work is in the public domain in the United States, and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 100 years or less.
Concert in the Egg, from The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch
This work is in the public domain in the United States, and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 100 years or less.

I can’t think, I can’t talk, I can’t write, I can’t concentrate… I can’t even add “that looks delicious, honey!” on my facebook to maintain the few friendships I have. All I want is for the time to come when I can take a look at the damn stick I will pee on and to see the hardcore prove for the changes I have been feeling since last week.

I feel like something is cooking in my belly. I am experiencing “stuff’ I have never felt before. Ever since I had my first period, almost 20 years ago now, month after month, I have had the time to observe what happens in my womb and in my whole body in general.

I am telling you, this is different…

Last week, husband and I did a little bit of free range hanky panky… Meaning, we had condomless sex. (It feels weird after so many years of latex involved love making… As for why we opted for the latex, I am already not the most stable person, so I thought fooling around with birth control would only save me from unplanned kids by making me utterly unbearable, unapproachable and un-pretty-able… Had to keep up the alliteration.)

On Tuesday or Wednesday I ovulated. I know when I ovulate because I get cramps which last only a short while, maybe about an hour or so but these lasted almost a week.

In the mean time, bit by bit, I started feeling tired and a tittle nauseous. In social gatherings, during most conversations I appeared in an open eyed REM sleep state. Hard to pull off, nodding at the right moments while trying not to snore…

On Tuesday the cramps stopped. And, having received responses that laughed at my self diagnosis from the few people I opened up, I decided to keep my mouth shut. Thanks to friends, who enjoy a little mockery, ehem, I also realized there was a large, very large indeed, margin of error in my early pregnancy detection.

But then, on Wednesday, during my contemporary dance class (oh yeah, this is how cool I am), the class for which I was already extremely too tired to begin with, I was left breathless for the first time, and chose to sit through a tiny part of the practice, not wishing to be handed a huge hospital bill once I woke up if I ever fainted.

For the last two days, that is Thursday and Friday, the exhaustion is on. Boobies hurt more and more by day… If I had to liken the pain to something that most people might have experienced, it is like that tiny decayed tooth that you forget about until you chew on a bite of green apple. That’s it! I forget they are attached to my body until I brush against them and right away they send these messages of pain to my brain like a very loud fire alarm… Finally, the slight tune of dizziness in the background is becoming more pronounced. So much so that, my actions in the evening today were comparable to those of a tipsy friend in high heels.

I can cope with all these symptoms, I can handle them all, even if they gradually increase in the next few months.

There are only two things that worry me.

The first one is reactive hypoglycemia I have managed to insert into this carcass of mine. I know that pregnancy aggravates the hypoglycemia, and I will need constant checking with a doctor. I also read some may need a C-section since their blood sugars may drop too low during labor.

And the last thing that I really get worried about is anxiety and anger! Every single thing pisses me off! Everything from my past, everything I have listened to without responding and sometimes smiled at without much despising is coming to haunt me! I want to snap at everything and everyone! Whatever anyone says, it pisses me off. If it is a topic I have some knowledge in, I get angry because people are too stupid to realize I know what I am talking about. If it is a topic I don’t have much idea about, I get angry because I feel stupid. If it is a topic where there is no right or wrong, there is a possibility I may break a few hearts, tear out a couple of limbs and bite off some ears…

Worry not, ye holy reader, for as of yet, no one has been hurt. I am trying to regulate my anger, telling myself this is not the usual me… but I do not know how much longer I can hide the Hulk in me.

But then, the huge margin of error in my extremely early fetus detection may be of use, of course, and all these may turn out to be premenstrual symptoms. This weekend is the time for me to mark the magic wand as the hormones in pregnant pee would only be ripe enough to show on a pregnancy test a few days before the next period, which is this Sunday for me. If the magic wand should proclaim my belly to be an empty pit, I shall seize the brand new opportunity to consider whether I would be ready to go through all this physical and emotional tsunami to have the following twenty or thirty (!) years stolen from me.

I told you I was not stable… but I pose a risk only to myself, so no worries… And here is phrase I had to tell a few people over the last week: “I will let you know as soon as I get the results!”

Blogging, Gaming (unwillingly), Sculpting and Conceiving

The Millinery Shop by Edgar Degas This work is in the public domain.
The Millinery Shop
by Edgar Degas
This work is in the public domain.

Some updates about life… aka I want to blabber about “me”.

I could not spare as much time on the blog as I wanted because I had a lot of work… ehem games to play… Just a reminder, I am a translator and tester at a mobile game company… So gaming is work for me…

Another reminder, I don’t like video games. Before working here, I thought I just did not know enough about games to get hooked on them. Recently, I have come to the realization that I want to like them because I like geeks. But it is about time I admitted I am not one…

And I completed my sculpture class without missing a session. Big deal for me, since I love quitting stuff, but I enjoyed almost all sessions of the course. I would have loved to post some pictures here but I am still doing the little bit I can to keep the blog invisible to people I know, so I can’t.

The responses to my “masterpieces” were diverse… Some laughed… A little too much… Some were interested in the material rather than the work. Others were very much surprised by what a person, as in me, can create in 3D. 😀

Whatever the response, I was proud to be able to create something. No matter how simple or amateurish the statuettes may be, I am happy to see the result of my own creativity, something I have missed a lot working in translation for games where most text is devoid of any depth. Not all, but most…

And, another piece of info that can be, let’s be honest, of little interest to you :), is I am trying to conceive…

Now, I have a question, how do people manage to keep it all discreet until they are like 5 months pregnant? I am announcing, almost to everyone, the days of my intercourse!

I am making huge fuss about the coffee and wine I am trying to avoid. I am already asking around about hospitals and obstetricians, maternity leave and details about dealing with pregnancy.

And of course I am considering a baby blog…

Ugh, I am going to be one of these annoying moms who cannot shut up about their kids, aren’t I? If, of course, I ever manage to make it to delivery… But, for that, I need to be pregnant first… I know that much about biology…

PS: I am so impatient to see the results of my conceptive efforts, I almost peed on my smart phone… I may be overdependent on my phone’s intelligence…

Can’t let anyone know I am one crazy b… bean?

Daily Prompt: Unsafe Containers
Which emotion(s) — joy, envy, rage, pity, or something else — do you find to be the hardest to contain?

When I first started working at my current job and I wanted people to like me, well at least not be too prejudiced towards me, I was trying to appear “collected”. It was an especially hard mission since I was there with my dear John’s Wort to contain my social anxiety which at times makes me overexcited at the smallest thing.

However, since the workplace is one huge loft where not even cubicles can hide an embarrassing gesture, headphones are the only means to create a little invisible ball of privacy around the brain. And like so many other souls out there, I chose to listen to music through the earphones to get myself motivated.

Although I am not much of a musical person, I knew from experience from street performers to bookshops where some background music may be on for a little ambiance, I cannot help moving to any rhythm… As soon as there is some sort of a beat I like, a little tapping begins on my foot, and slowly climbs all the way up to my shoulders, finally reaching my head. This might be OK at a pub or even on the street but at work, the result is one jerky woman trying to type some stuff on her computer.

So the first time I had the rush of happiness to dance at my serious workplace, too serious for a video game company, at least, I had to pull my headphones off my head and take a deep breath and wait until my heartbeat took up a lighter pace.

Now, I only listen to news and John’s Wort is out of the question. It turns out it is much easier to concentrate on translations and even on games while sipping green tea to sooth bouts of anxiety and listening to stock market crashes than Pharrell Williams’s “Happy” song.

Come to think of it, I am one weird assembly of a personality where a social attraction like dancing and fear of people’s reactions as in social anxiety have been inserted into the same brain. It is hard to find a balance between all those feelings rushing through…

So if you ever see a shy woman who cannot help dancing on the street to the slightest tune, it might just be me…

Headed to my playlist now…

Ode to the Uncut Nail

Dailypost: A True Saint

In 300 years, if you were to be named the patron saint of X, what would you like X to be? Places, activities, objects — all are fair game.

a Menasseuse by 	 Hyacinthe Rigaud  another version can be found in Musée Granet (Aix-en-Provence) This work is in the public domain in the United States, and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 100 years or less.
La Menasseuse by
Hyacinthe Rigaud
another version can be found in Musée Granet (Aix-en-Provence)
This work is in the public domain.

I would be the patron saint of uncut nails.

I find uncut nails befitting of me, because my nails have always grown far too sooner than I have wanted them to ever since I can remember. Even when I in kindergarten, while all the kids had tiny nails on their plump fingers, my nails stuck out on thin long sticks I had for fingers. I hated them. I wanted to be like others. I wanted to have cute kiddy fingers instead of old woman’s claws.

Until the day came when I realized everyone else envied my nails. I realized they liked, even admired my nails. I took a good look at the hard, almost bone like structure on my fingers. I observed them… And noticed quite  a few things…

Nail polish looked better on my huge nails.

When I tapped on the desk to show impatience, it made a more charismatic sound getting many tasks done much faster.

If anyone needed to change the battery for the remote control or reach their sim card on their phone, it was not a problem because my nail was long enough to give the delicate push.

Did you need to add a new key to the chain with the tight piece of metal shaped like a spiral? It would not be easy, but my nails could take the pressure.

And the pistachio we all liked so much but, darn, sometimes it was hard to get to the best part. No, you did not need to break the shell with your teeth! I would take care of that with my nails.

Oh those lids! It was so hard to open the ketchup bottle/ juice box/ coke can… The patron saint of uncut nails was there to save the day! No lid was too tight in face of this saint!

And the best part was I had never needed a manicure to keep them in good shape.

Thus, little by little, I realized that what made me so different turned out to be a secret strength that could work to my advantage. I learned to embrace my difference, and left the ugly duckling everyone, but most importantly, I deemed myself to be behind and learned to accept who I am with all the attributes I hold.

Once, something as trivial as a nail alienated me from the crowd. Yet, something as invisible as a nail also helped me see what power I held hidden at the tip of my finger.

Therefore, there is no other more deserving of the title patron saint of uncut nails than I.

I do better with multiple choice questions

by Edwaert Collier Indianapolis Museum of Art This work is in the public domain in the United States, and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 100 years or less.
by Edwaert Collier
Indianapolis Museum of Art
This work is in the public domain in the United States, and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 100 years or less.

Daily post prompt: Trick Questions

A Pulitzer-winning reporter is writing an in-depth piece – about you. What are the three questions you really hope she doesn’t ask you?

1)  The question I would dread most would be: “A swimming pool has 2 inlet pipes. One fills the pool in 4 hours, the other in 6 hours. The outlet pipe empties the pool in 5 hours.

 Once the outlet pipe was left open when the pool was being filled. In how many hours was the pool full?”

 Firstly, I would stop listening to the reporter as soon as I hear “pool” followed by  “two inlets” and secondly, I would start blabbering and giggling, and try to get away with a cute escapist answer, only to inspire the journalist to come up with a possible title for the article: “How smart is she?”

 2)  What is your zodiac sign?

Oh man, I hate zodiac sings! I am left helpless whenever anyone wants to carry on a conversation about my personality based on which day of the year I was born. I hope she does not ask me that. Do people really get Pulitzer prizes with such questions?

 3)      Could our photographer take your picture playing football/ basketball/ volleyball?

 No!!! I hate team sports and despise any activity involving a ball. Those round bouncy things either land on my head or my bum! I would rather keep the little bit of dignity left from my childhood PE classes, thank you.

I am sure, if the reporter avoids these three questions along with any other queries pertaining to my true personality, I might come across in her article as a charismatic, smart and attractive person.