A couple of months ago, the majority of my readership consisted of 1.) people in various medical fields and stages of training, 2.) random non-medical people who found my site by accident or who were referred in by said medical people, and 3.) people who knew me. But ever since our announcement a few months ago, my readership exploded almost overnight to include the fourth, huge demographic, 4.) pregnant people or people with young kids. And my word, you parental-types are legion. I've seriously seen my readership almost triple since the fetus came onto the scene, and that's been amazing for me because the collective experience and advice from you all has been invaluable. But I have no idea how the word got out so fast. I mean, it was like one day I announced that I was pregnant, and a week later, everyone was at the party. But how did you all get here? Is there some sort of pregnancy linking network that I don't know about? Is there some sort of underground communication line between parents that no one ever told me about? How does it all work, this so-called "internet"?
(And of course, I must give a special shout out to people who are straddling dual demographics. Hello, medical-types with kids or fetuses! May we someday join forces and form a mighty army! Only if we can coordinate on our post-call days, of course.)
* * *
So aside from going to work and browsing through Ebay to see if anyone is selling a brand new orange Bugaboo Frog stroller to me for ten dollars (and IT COULD HAPPEN, and even though I don't like to take advantage of the clinically insane, I would make an exception just this once), we've been getting everything ready for Joe's dad's big visit this weekend. As you may recall, he is flying in with his special tools and special know-how to help us turn Cal's room (currently an empty whitewashed box) into Cal's Pleasure Palace, albeit a palace without any furniture in it yet. Part of preparing for this visit has been placing a big Fresh Direct order for dad-friendly foods. We already got the tip off from Joe's mom what it is he likes to munch around the house, and promptly ordered those things. In case you're wondering, the list consisted of: baloney sandwich fixin's, Sprite, pretzels, coffee. Simple enough. The one mistake I made was actually tasting some of the baloney. Bologna? Whatever, you know what I mean. Joe ordered two packs of baloney from the store with the intention that we could SAVE BIG MONEY and use some for lunchmeat, so earlier this week I obligingly made myself a sandwich to take to work.
When I was a much younger child, I loved baloney sandwiches. Like, insanely loved them, the way that kids obsess over Twinkies and McDonald's Happy Meals and blow the tastiness of the idealized, fetishized food completely out of proportion with their worship. I could never figure out why no one would buy baloney for me. "Why not some nice turkey for your sandwich? Yum, turkey." But I didn't want turkey, I wanted baloney. So salty, so soft, so good. So...uniformly processed.
Well, sorry to say that after my adult palate downed that sandwich on Monday I cannot stomach baloney anymore. Who knew it was so gelatinous? So artificial tasting? It tasted like eating a hunk of quivering meat jelly. And it made me really thirsty. Baloney, you are dead to me now.
* * *
Now that I just passed 27 weeks, I've almost reached this mystical borderland in my mind set up by one of the NICU fellows that I worked with earlier this year. She and I were at a twin C-section for 28 weekers, setting up the warmers and CPAP and such, and she said to me, "I just love 28 weekers. They're my favorite age to work with."
MICHELLE
You love 28 weekers? Why?
FELLOW
Because they're still really small, but they're so feisty, and almost all of them do do really well.
MICHELLE
Uh, yeah, I guess.
(Keep in mind that a 28 weeker weighs about one kilo and is still three months premature. So that shows how skewed the world of the NICU can be. "Better than a 24 weeker!" And also maybe how good the NICU at our hospital is, something that I merely observe but can take absolutely no credit for. Which is basically the sole reason that I chose to deliver at [University Hospital], aside from the obvious disadvantage that everybody knows me and I might have someone that I'd really rather not ever see my hoo ha have to walk in at an inopportune moment. Well, and I guess the one other advantage is that I know the combination to the pantry and can purloin extra pudding cups if need be. But I digress.)
I'm getting a lot of patients and parents asking me now about the pregnancy now. Most of the conversations go something like this.
PARENT
You havin' a baby?
MICHELLE
Yes I am.
PARENT
How many months?
MICHELLE
Seven months next week.
PARENT
You look good!
MICHELLE
Thanks. I feel like a truck, though.
PARENT
You havin' a boy or a girl?
MICHELLE
Boy.
PARENT
I knew that.
MICHELLE
Really? How did you know?
PARENT
I have a sense about these things.
Variations on the above include "I could tell from the shape of your stomach" and "I could tell from your aura" (which I chose not to question any further). But cuter yet is when the kids ask me about the pregnancy. Like two days ago, I had a mom with two school aged kids come in:
MICHELLE
(Brandishing prescription for permethrin cream)
Now, you really want to apply this cream from head to toe and leave it on overnight...
MOM
(Interrupting)
You havin' a baby?
MICHELLE
Yes I am.
KID
I knew that already! I knew it! I saw it when you were sitting over there!
(Points to chair next to desk in the corner)
MICHELLE
You saw my belly?
KID
(Poking belly with one finger)
I saw it!
MICHELLE
Good for you! (To mom) And make sure you was all your sheets with hot, hot water after the treatment like I explained before, OK?
MOM
Got it. Thanks, doc. (To kid) Say bye to the doctor.
KID
Bye, doctor! (Patting Michelle's abdomen gently) Bye, baby!
MICHELLE
The baby says bye!
And then after they left, I had to run out and wash my hands fifty million billion times, because I had just treated that whole family for an infestation of scabies.
Currently NOT watching: "Felicity," because literally the day after I made that announcement that the Women's Entertainment channel was running old episodes, my basic cable provider decided not to carry We on their roster anymore. Due to the timing, I am suspecting conspiracy.
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