Paula's Junk

Welcome back everyone! As promised, I am continuing to document my experiences as the spouse of a pregnant woman in the form of this blog. But before I go any further, I want to mention the poll that I've started. By clicking on the banner below, you will be taken to www.expectnet.com where I've started a poll on when the twins will be born, how much they'll weigh, and how tall they'll be. As of the date of this posting, there are only 7 people that have made guesses. Yet, I know that there are more people than that reading this blog. So, click on the banner and give us your guess. Don't worry, it's free and the winner will receive a small prize (i.e. I won't ask you to babysit for the first month . . . if you're lucky). To participate, click here:

The days since my last post have been busy ones. We traveled to St. Louis, Missouri (or Missoura for all you natives) for Emily's first baby shower. Then, on Monday, we had a doctor's appointment with our obstetrician. Finally, we attended the second of four "baby classes" at Community North Hospital on Wednesday night. All three of these events were both exciting and terrifying all at the same time.

We begin with the trip to St. Louis. My in-laws were kind enough to have a baby shower for Emily in STL. Emily's parents did a great job of hosting a wonderful party and I know Emily appreciated all of the hard work that her sisters put into the party preparation. THANK YOU MRAZ's, WECKHERLIN'S, and LANE's! But because the shower was a "girl's only" shower, I needed to find something to do while the festivities ensued. Thus, I thought I'd try to get some male bonding time in with the in-laws by inviting my father-in-law and two brother-in-laws to a healthy game of golf. Well, I didn't know that my bro-in-laws were allergic to fun. They both turned forty recently and that must be the age at which you lose your hair, your spine, and apparently your testes! Both turned me down without reason! Short of having the Swedish Bikini Team over for a strip poker tourney, a man does not turn down a golf game when their women are away. It's a man law! Nonetheless, I was able to go with my dad, Emily's Dad and Jim's father, so I picked their brain for some fatherly advice. But the next time you see Jim & Todd, refer to them as Jill & Tonya as these names suit them better. But I'm not bitter.

After golf, I went back to ground zero and scoped out all of the loot. . . I mean gifts, that we received from the baby shower. A sincere "thank you" to all of those who attended our shower and were kind enough to bring a baby gift. We appreciate your generosity and kindness! It was exciting to see all of the new stuff that we can now add to the babies' portfolio of assets. It was kinda scary trying to get all of the stuff back home and figuring out a place to store it until the lil' ones make their debut. The current solution seems to be to put all my stuff in the attic. My space in our house is shrinking already and the twins are only the size of grapefruit. I need a new house!

On Monday, we had an appointment with our OBGYN. This was another routine appointment that involves us going into the office and the doctor asking Emily how she's doing, listens for the heartbeats, and then sends us on our way. We're usually in and out in 20 minutes and I somehow feel unsatisfied with the entire experience. Maybe it's because I always have a feeling that, as I'm leaving the office, she's walking behind us as we walk out the door laughing and thinking that was the easiest $200 any one's ever made. One of these times I'm going to conjure up the courage to turn around real quick and catch her laughing at us. Then it's on! Until then, I'll continue to saunter out of the office with my skirt in one hand and my empty wallet in the other.

We did visit the lab after our fleecing from the doctor. Emily was due to have blood drawn in order to test for things like low blood sugar and iron deficiency. I find that the best way to describe this process for us is by analogy.

Emily : giving blood :: men : shopping

For those of you who scored below a 400 on the English portion of your SAT's, I'll literally spell it out for you.

Emily is to giving blood as men are to shopping.

They both don't like each other, avoid each other at all costs, and when forced to interact, do so begrudgingly. In fact, Emily has a dubious history of giving blood. She often gets light-headed, queezy, and passes out. And I don't mean the, "I don't feel right. . . let me sit down for a second" kind of pass out. I mean the eyes roll back into her head as the nurse yells "T-I-I-I-M-M-M-B-E-R-R-R!" type of pass out! So as the husband, my job is to make sure that if she does crash and burn, she get's revived and she doesn't hurt herself in the process. Which means I am faced with a difficult decision every time I accompany my better half to the blood bank. What is the best "catch" position for me to be in? I often consider the "linebacker stance". This posture has your feet shoulder width apart, butt down, chin up, and knees bent at a 30 degree angle with your arms out in front. Similar to how your high school football coach taught all the offensive lineman how to block. I like this pose, but am often scared to break it out for fear that 1.) I look ridiculous and 2.) if I overestimate my own strength, we both go down and I look like a total wuss. So I decided to stick with my "go-to" position, sitting next to her with my left arm acting as an arm-bar across her chest and my right hand with a fistfull of her blouse along her back. This usually does the job and is much safer for all parties involved (including my ego). Luckily, Emily's toughness prevailed and she didn't even get light-headed during this round of her skirmish with the syringe. They only took two vials and we were in and outta there in 5 minutes. All crises averted!

Finally, on Wednesday, we attended our second childbirth class at Community North. We signed up for these courses a few months ago. They consist of four, two hour sessions from 7 to 9pm on Wednesday nights. We signed up for these things out of curiosity, I think. I wasn't expecting to actually learn much more than I already knew about the childbirth process, but the classes included a tour of the hospital, maternity wards, and NIC unit which peaked our interest and sold the value of the program for us. But we were asked to bring a pillow with us to this lesson, so we were expecting an active class that may involve the legendary Lemaze breathing techniques. To our surprise, we did not learn Lemaze in this class. The pillow was used for some various labor positions that your pregnant wife may find comfort in assuming during the 12-18 hour labor. About twelve stations were set up around the room that had laminated pieces of paper with examples of labor positions taped on the wall. Each couple was to choose a station, assume the position, and then rotate to the next station after a minute or two. Most positions were pretty benign, but there were some funny ones that included on "all-fours" on the floor, leaning on a chair with your elbows while your butt is in the air and knees on the ground, and the "labor dance" which is your wife leaning on you while standing and swaying. It was funny to watch a bunch of pregger women in various semi-indignant positions scattered throughout the room. However, it was funnier to watch the men they were with. We followed the women from station to station like dependent little puppies carrying pillows. Every one of us have a half-glazed over look and a bewilderment about us that conveys our cluelessness of the life-changing events yet to come. We all march closely behind our better halves, careful not to fall behind, thinking of days not long past when we had respect, dignity, and no responsibility. Those days are long gone, and we were all realizing it at that very moment. It was heartbreaking.

After we made it through all of the stations, we went back to our seats. The instructor then said that we were going to watch a video. I thought nothing of it and figured it was a video showing the labor positioning techniques that we just learned. And for the first ten minutes, I was right. The video introduced us to Chris & Paula, the parents-to-be in the "documentary". Paula was obviously pregnant and nearing her delivery date. The camera took us into her home in the days leading up to her delivery. There, Paula showed us some of the positions-in-action as she struggled at times to work through the contractions. Suddenly, Paula found herself in the hospital as labor was becoming more intense and birth growing imminent. It was then, as the video kept playing, I found my anxiety growing. "Could this be. . . no, we would have surely received some type of warning", I thought. As time between Paula's contractions decreased, my fear increased. I began to sweat. When Paula was pictured in a birthing bed, clothed in the hospital gown, and her feet in the upright and stowed position, I knew.

By now, you should be able to deduce that I'm referring to THE VIDEO. The infamous baby video that your fellow male, father friends warn you about. The one that is the up-close and personal, graphic, bloody, and uncensored look into the delivery of a baby and all of the "parts and pieces" included in such a process.

I wasn't ready. I was feeling duped, blind-sided, sucker-punched! Only in the right mindset and with due mental preparation could I stand a chance of being able to handle this video. Sure, I may be 30 in age, but I've got the maturity level of a 10 year old! The prospect of watching Paula deliver a baby out of her "girl parts" is not a pleasant scenario that I'd like to find myself in. Oh ya, I forgot to mention that Paula is a 300 lb., 4-inch thick glasses wearing, butch-ish woman who wore denim overalls into the hospital and probably calls a double-wide 'home'. They must've chosen Paula to film just to make it more uncomfortable for every man that laid their eyes on this video. And it was working because I looked around the room and all the guys were squirming in their chairs. We all wanted to make a break for the door, I could see it in their eyes. And we could make it! We just had to out run a bunch of preggo woman, how tough could that be? But as we all know, the power of the wife is not a physical one, it is a mental one. There would be no jail-breaks today. No chinese fire drill-like dashes for the doorway. Not today.

We all shared the same uneasiness. And as Paula laid spread-eagle on the bed with nothing between her jewels and my eyes but a thin piece of cheap hospital-grade cotton, we all dealt with our trepidation in our own way. The guy across the table from me had a tear running down his face. The guy next to me was pretending to talk to his wife, so to not have to look at the TV. The fat guy across the room was sweating profusely and ready to pass out. The guy behind me removed his glasses and pretended to clean the lenses so that he wouldn't be able to view the TV. His plan was brilliant (damn my laser surgery and the perfect vision it now provides me). Me. . . I fidgeted by bouncing my knee, stretching, looking at my cell phone every 5 seconds and trying not to laugh. My defense mechanism is to laugh at things that I find outrageously absurd, scary, or threatening. And watching a baby pop out of Paula's "bits and pieces" fulfilled all three prerequisites. Suddenly, as the doctor told Paula to push, the room got tense.

OH NOOOOOOOOO! We just got a glimpse of Paula's junk. That must've been the video's way of easing us into it. It was less than two seconds, but it was visible. OH MY GOD!!! That time was much longer and more painful for me and Paula. Paula, your shrubs need pruning! HOLY S***!!!!!!!! There's a bloody little head sticking out of Paula's "hoo ha"!

I quickly look around. The sweaty fat man across the room is down! The guy across the table is sobbing and my compadre next to me has his hands over his eyes. The guy's glasses behind me are now gone and he's looking straight at the screen while smiling. That blind lucky bastard!

Paula gives it one final push and pops the baby right out of her. M*$&@& @$*@#&!!!!!!!!!!!

The next shot is Paula laying spread-eagle in all her 300 lb. glory, with a bloody and gooey baby on her chest, umbilical cord still attached to baby and leading into Paula's "vajayjay", and Paula COMPLETELY naked. That screenshot is now burned into my consciousness and is only rivaled by the 2 girls 1 cup video. Luckily, that's the end of the video and Paula's bashfulness, or at least the end of what I remembered. I may've blacked out, or subconsciously blocked much of the rest of the day out of my memory. There will certainly be a suggestion on my comment card that I turn in at the end of the class. First, give us some freakin' warning! Second, why can't they show Angelina Jolie's birth. . . . or Pam Anderson. Someone a little more "educational" would be nice. Needless to say, the legend of THE VIDEO had lived up to its billing.

So that was week 27 of pregnancy with twin girls. We didn't get any new ultrasound pics this week, so the pics below are from 1 month ago (week 23 6/2/08). So we're kinda going backwards in our ultrasound pics, but hey, I must stay on my toes during this process so I'm requiring you to do the same.

Stay tuned to next week's posting when the results of Emily's blood work comes back, we have our third baby class, and we may even announce the names of the girls next week!

There are two things in life for which we are never truly prepared: twins.
-Josh Billings

P.S. We break ground on our new house on Tuesday, July 8th. YES!!!!!!!!