The old man hits 40 and other news.
The good:The news is out, I'm pregnant. A little over nine weeks today, and due February 12th. I have a "countdown to baby" counter on my board sig, but what I really need (as I have been telling my friends, loudly and often), is a "countdown to shots" counter. So much has happened since I found out, I could really use a few jiggers of ice cold Absolut. Who am I kidding with the "ice cold"? I'm soooo not picky.
I had my first doctor's appointment on Tuesday. I love my doctor, but he's head of OB/GYN at his new hospital and it's tough to schedule actual time with him. When I lived in Hartford, and he had an office there, there were six other docs in his practice. I steadily refused to see any of the other ones until I was going weekly, but I think this time around, I may have to suck it up. When I asked him about the "complications" I had with my last labor, he said that most women who have PIH (or whatever I had - toxemia, pre-eclampsia, who knows - big believer in his patients avoiding the internet, is my doctor) the first time around do not the second time around - only 20%. And with the horror show that was the vacuum extraction, he has offered me an elective C-section. This was surprising, as he is a "no cutting" kind of guy, including the widely debated episiotomy.
In any case, his new hospital is a bit more progressive than his old one, and includes a facility for water laboring. Considering all the interventions with the Cheech, if I have a healthy pregnancy this time, I am definitely going the natural route for as long as possible. The scarring I have may prove to be too much, but I'm writing this now so that my resolve doesn't waiver in the interim.
The bad:
Our former next door neighbor at Artspace, Jen, was killed in an auto accident on Friday. Just 39, with kids, a husband, and a great job teaching art, it was apparent from her memorial service how she will be missed and how many people she affected. Seriously, it was amazing. Jen was definitely a polarizing person, which made the gathering all the more poignant; it definitely made me think on a good many subjects - including the often present brooding on our own mortality. Having kids, losing a parent, and the unexpected loss of peers really slaps away a good deal of your naivete.
On a related subject, any thoughts on talking to toddlers about death are welcome. This is the fifth occasion the Cheech has been present for in recent memory - the past year - and I am really not dealing with the subject well. Particularly when she asked, after the gathering and over ice cream, "are we sad?" I guess I need to get my own spirituality in order before addressing this.
The ugly:
OK, not so ugly, though he may disagree - Greg bumped over the hill to 40 on Monday. It's hard to believe that Sex on Legs has reached this milestone, harder still to reconcile it with how damn good he looks. Better than when we met almost a decade ago - better on our five year anniversary than our wedding day. Somewhere, indeed, there is painting of him gradually gaining weight and losing his hair...
But I'm not bitter. At least, not at 30.
We celebrated with a crazy party (I say this as the sober one) including prizes for answering questions about Greg, a karaoke tournament, and blackjack, craps and roulette. There were even fireworks (or, "fireworks"), for what party is complete without pissing off the neighbors?
And we all pitched in and bought him an iPod, which will keep him occupied for at least two weeks. Woo!
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