Thursday, December 18, 2014

In Which I Am Called Mrs. Scientist Again...

... and don't really mind.

Every few weeks, I drag Tatoe to elementary school with me and spend an hour coaxing kindergarteners to practice their writing.  This being a small town, I know half of Bug's class (they are always very excited to see me).  And Bug's teacher refers to me as "Mrs. Scientist".

(There are several parents who do this for his class and they are all, in fact, Dr. Somebody, and all their spouses are also Dr. Somebody - though they encompass an MD and a veterinarian- because everyone who volunteers is a professor or the spouse of a professor.)

I think it doesn't bother me because I am there solely as a parent.  My authority as Dr. Somebody is not at issue.  I have authority at elementary school because I'm an adult, doing something for the teacher; being Dr. Anyone is irrelevant, especially as I'm hardly an expert in kindergarten education.

Monday, December 15, 2014

I Am Considering A Nervous Breakdown

1) You know what made my life a lot happier?  NOT being with my children for a few hours each day.  I really, REALLY hope they hire me to teach again in the fall.

2) If I thought it would help/ make the baby come faster, I would throw myself on the floor and cry right now.  There might be kicking and screaming.  I feel amazingly unwell (though, fortunately, both the baby and I are just fine).

3) Several stiff drinks would be great right about now.

4) I am not actually going to have several stiff drinks right now.

5) If anyone knows a magical way to make doctor/midwife offices run ON FUCKING TIME, you could make a fortune, I tell you.

Monday, December 08, 2014

So Un-Cheerful (In Which I Whine Some More)

If you don't want to hear me whine about being pregnant, I recommend reading elsewhere.  Okay?  Okay.

The DSM informs me that I am not depressed (well, that I am not having a Major Depressive Episode) because "the symptoms (are) due to a general medical condition."  Nonetheless, I am sitting on my couch ready to cry at the thought of being pregnant for three more weeks.

I am in pain all the time, I lose patience with my children (generally when the little one does something annoying and the big one causes him serious bodily harm) and am not as kind to Bug as I probably should be even when I'm really, really angry with him.  Friday night's incident involved an "is there a corneal abrasion?" triage call.   Tatoe, in response, has developed a fine I'm-being-murdered cry that is guaranteed to bring a parent running.

Meanwhile, I am still having very uncomfortable but not baby-causing contractions every 10-15 minutes with NO DAMN BABY to show for it.

Monday, December 01, 2014

Still Alive

I made it through an entire semester teaching college students!  It was only really surreal!  (Once upon a time when I started grad school, I wanted to teach.  Then I didn't want to put up with all the postdoc-time/ academic job search BS, so I didn't.  Then I ended up adjuncting...)

29 days until this baby is due and I will be SO GRATEFUL to (please, please) never be pregnant again.

Monday, November 24, 2014

Body Conscious, With Whining

I started out this unexpected pregnancy by losing ten pounds.  Not on purpose; I was too sick to eat.

Since then I've gained back the weight I lost (which is good!  I needed those pounds!) and about ten more pounds.  (I'm 34 weeks.)  The number of people who feel free to comment on my appearance drives me crazy, though.  'You look great!' they say cheerfully.  Well, for one, I feel like an angry whale with stabbing pains, and for two, it's not like I did anything to cause this.  Did I exercise, refrain from eating that entire pumpkin pie, or make sure to take my vitamins?  I surely did not.  And, if I'd gained 30 pounds net instead, that would ALSO be fine.  (Though more of a pain to get rid of later, naturally.)  I have terrible headaches, there's a nerve-pinch-with-dagger every time I take a step, I wake up five times a night or more, and if I try to walk more than a quarter mile I start having contractions again.  The kind that hurt enough you're nauseous.  Frankly, I'd rather people say nothing.  I know they're trying to be nice but I'm maaaaybe just a little irritable about, oh, everything.

(I do dress up in Southern-business-casual every day and put on earrings, makeup, and a necklace.  The South can be pretty judgmental about personal appearance, in a totally different way from the North - where, I'll remind you, I lived for my entire adult life up until now, so I do know what I'm talking about.  So at least I'm not in yoga pants or Leggings Are Not Pants, even when I'd prefer to be.)

I feel entirely out of control while pregnant.  For me it's completely different from being not-pregnant, when I could perhaps convince myself to eat a carrot or something.  Now, if I eat a carrot when I don't feel like a carrot, I'll throw up.  (That entire pumpkin pie, however, was purely a loss of self-control.  And the pound of chocolate.  I could have not eaten the whole thing. That month I gained 7 of the 10 pounds.)

In summary: cranky, unhappy pregnant lady will bite you if you say something nice, but realizes that this is an unkind response.

(I am probably about to eat another entire pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving.)

Thursday, November 20, 2014

In Lab

Student: Dr. Scientist, do you know yet which sections you're teaching next semester?

Me: I'm afraid I won't be teaching at all; I'll be otherwise occupied.

Student: Are you putting your own children ahead of us ?!?!

Me: Well, Mr. Smith*... you're less adorable than a baby.

(Everyone laughs.)

*I call all of my students Mr. or Ms. Lastname.  One, it's the South, and two, they all wear nametags with - you guessed it - their last names.  

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Worry Worry

My mother is an expert worrier.  Just last week, she went all the way from how I'm having an occasional uncomfortable contraction (okay, a dozen a day, but just uterus-freaking-out contractions, I can still carry on talking, plus nothing is happening, and hey, this is my third baby, I do know what something is happening feels like) to "You'll come visit and go into labor and then they'll do a C-section because they'll have NO medical history on you!"  ("The fuck they will; I'd sue their asses into next year.  Plus, they could CALL the person ON CALL like NORMAL humans, Mom.")

I try very hard not to worry irrationally.  Isn't there some human coping mechanism of willful disbelief, where you tell yourself to believe that bad things won't happen to you and your loved ones, because the constant contemplation of death and misery would make us all catatonic?  Usually I'm pretty good about it.

The midwives are mildly concerned that a) no matter how they measure it, my uterus measures a couple centimeters behind, for the first time (a little outside error but not impossibly so) and b) I haven't gained any weight for a month.  (I am now 34 weeks pregnant with a net gain of 9.4 pounds.... have I mentioned that pain makes me nauseous?   Does it count if you lose weight but gain it back? Well.)  I know that everything is probably fine.  The baby is whomping the living daylights out of me right now.   And yet, I'm still just a little concerned.

(I did NOT tell my mother.)