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Wednesday, July 26, 2006

the baggage retrieval system they've got at heathrow

What do you need?

I don't know.

What do you already have?

I don't know that, either.

I'll have to let you know.

I'll get back to you.

The truth is, I can't bring myself to get to the boy stuff. I've got a box in storage, a cursed box of things meant for a boy who never wore them. Do I use them? Do I start new?

I don't know.

The truth is, I can't convince myself it's actually going to happen.

Here's how my shopping has gone: trickily.

I see a baby boy outfit. Correction: I find a baby boy outfit. I'm very discriminatory. My boy will not wear tank tops. My infant will not wear monsters wreaking havoc on trucks with their jaws. My son will not wear mesh. My rule for kid clothes is that it had better be under $10. Is that too much to ask?

I don't know.

It's easier to pick up the girl stuff. I didn't realize how much more pink there is out there, but it's true. And I find myself looking at it. It's just easier. I'm used to it. I know I can handle that. Is it easier because there's more of it?

I don't know.

I found something. A jacket. He won't wear it until he's a year old. But I like it. It's brown and has a rock-n-roll theme. I'm with the band, so he is too, right? We're both future rock stars, right?

I don't know.

I feel the jacket. I try to imagine my child in it. I take it off the rack and...take it for a walk around the store. Twenty minutes. I put it back. I don't dare get it.

It's jinxed.

No, I'm being silly. I pick it back up and rationalize: There are only three jackets here, I'd better get one before they're gone. It's too much money; I've got a $20 off card, though, and it would only cost me $4. Okay, I'll get it.

In a minute.

I take a deep breath and bring it to the counter.

"Ooooh," says the The Gap Girl, "I just love this one."

"Mmm, me too."

"Having a boy?"


"How exciting! Is this your first baby?"


"Oh my goodness! You look great!"

"Thank you."

"Are your others boys or girls?"

"Girl, boy, girl, girl."

"Oh, so you know what you're doing -- and you already have a boy."

"I guess."

I can't fake my worry -- I'm certain it shows on my face, but I smile and get out of there.

Where's the worry coming from?

I'm worried because it's almost the same time as before - thirty and a half weeks.

I'm worried because he's flipping around so much, just like his brother did.

I'm worried about whether I am capable of carrying a boy to term. I don't worry about the differences in raising boys and girls, but I look forward to it and think it will be at the least, amusing, and at the most, enlightening. My worry is more for the immediacy: can I even get to that point?

I worry about the fact that I just found out last week that a certain medication I've been taking is actually contraindicated for pregnancy. Make no mistake, I DO NOT put medication into my body unless I double and triple check its effects on pregnancy, whether I'm pregnant or not (I just think it's for good measure at this point in my life). Alas, it is NOT a Category B, as I was previously told (by three separate physicians), but a Category C. And so I worry: have I done anything to this baby?

I don't know.


dalene said...

~j: I am so so sorry for all that worrying going on. (Someday I'll tell you about my worries about people I love turning 44.) I won't tell you not to worry--because it's the normal thing to do and you will do it anyway. But I will say prayers for you and remind you that babies can be very resilient--even when it comes to drugs.

I'm thinking happy thoughts about how amused you will be--and sometimes will NOT be--by your boy.

La Yen said...

I love you. And i will march right up to the pearly gates and moon them if something happens. So it won't. Because my booty is just that fearsome.

Thanks for being honest.

And isn't schedule C the GOOD stuff? You should go sell it at Provo High--then you can afford the boy clothes from the fancy stores.

And start over. Don't make Q be T, even subconciously with baby clothes. Take them over to the shelter at Thanksgiving, and know that T will be happy that you are helping a baby, and not being sad and wistful when you look at his brother.

And you will get plenty at your showers, so if you don't buy a single thing until after he is born, you will still be fine.

Anonymous said...

Amen la yen! Take all the old memories box em up and let someone else have them.
My sister (you know the story) has finally said "well... uhm... maybe I'm ready for a shower). I kind of sort of know your fears and hesitentcy (vicariously), and I am praying peace for you and her.
Can't tell you not to worry, but try and just think of the fun a little boy will be.
P.S. Don't worry about the clothes anyway. An old neighbor of ours had three girls, then a boy and he ran around all the time in his sister's one piece swimming suit!

Carina said...

It's a challenge, but you and I shall go foraging.

I'm not sure how I feel about giving away all of T's stuff. I don't believe things are cursed, but I can see how the memories would be tied so tightly. Maybe you could pick out a few special pieces and then donate the rest. Maybe you should donate right now as a transition phase?

I don't have any great and knowledgable extras to contribute, I heart you. And all boys are just like El Guille (right?!)

Tiffany UnTwisted said...

I had to choose either suicidal tendencies or possible side effects from my medication. I figured I would rather stay alive to help the baby then not make it. Sometimes medication that our bodies need seems really disappointing when you think about all those who don't need it, but like CW said babies seem to be more resilient than we can ever imagine. I mean, the chick on Lost had her baby after a plane wreck, right??

Lorien said...

la yen, you made me laugh out loud while I was wiping the tears off my face.

Don't know what to say--just crossing my fingers and praying. I love you. Hang in there. Just 10 more weeks (the longest weeks ever?!). A big cyber hug to you, and if I see you Saturday I'll give you a real one.

QueenScarlett said...

I'll be praying for you. Here's a little fear of mine... I had no idea I was preggers when I had a dental appointment in Jan - they shot me up with stuff - so I'm praying my baby's parts are all... normal. Excited and terrified something will come out all freaky and I'll have to put a hit on the dentist. ;-) HUGS!!! Good thing you've got la yen in your corner.

More Caffiene, Please said...

No matter what, pregnancy is full of worries - if it's not one thing it's another. So feel okay about worrying and then feel better by celebrating those little flips he's doing by purchasing clothes. Two rules I was given by my brother - no boy of mine is ever allowed to wear a sailor suit or anything with Pooh Bear on it. Easy enough.

This is me said...

I don't know if this will help, but I had an appendectomy at 28 weeks with my first pregnancy. Besides the illness and surgery, my daughter survived anesthesia, antibiotics, magnesium (to stop labor), and a full week on a morphine drip. Went overdue and had an 8 pound baby. So, you see, these kids of ours are amazingly resilient. All will be well with your, too I'm sure. Good luck and hang in there!

Tori :) said...

I know what you mean- getting so close to the "same time." I wasn't near as far along as your were with T., but I know my 2 pregnancies since I have stressed up until that point... and then on thru the rest of the pregnancy. It sucks.
As for T.'s clothes... I know my mom gave my little sister's clothes to people in our ward who needed them. She was 18 though... I think I would keep some kinda "in honor" or "In memory" and pass on the rest to others.
Hang in there.

Sarah said...

All you really need are those basic white onesies anyway. I try to keep as few items of clothing as possible and keep it all mix n match since I abhor shopping for all those itsey bitsey pieces of cloth that will be stained within a week. Pick up a few white basics (which you probably already have) and let the showerers do the rest!

I like the idea of saving a few special pieces. You never know how you'll feel after this little boy arrives.

Sister Pottymouth said...

I read this post a couple of days ago and haven't stopped thinking about it since. I didn't post a comment then for the same reason I hesitate to post one now: I don't know what to say. Just know that I'm thinking of you.

~j. said...

Thank you all for your kind, encouraging words and support. I appreciate being able to vent stuff here to you, and I appreciate your sensitivity to my rants.