To Cut or Not to Cut

I don't want to circumcise Dane. I don't care that people will think his dingdong looks different. I don't care that your Aunt Rhonda said it will be easier to clean. I don't care. I'm one of those moms (read: crazy) that feels like my every moment in the first few months should be devoted to keeping my infant: safe, healthy and happy. That's my mantra. I pray for it every night. "Dear God: please keep Elaina safe, healthy and happy." I pray for Dane swimming around in my belly, too. 

I googled a circumcision video when I was pregnant with Elaina (before I knew she was a she). And, maaaaaan. 

Pretend like someone told you that they were going to take your few-hours-old baby AWAY FROM YOU (problem #1) and then strap him down and cut a part off of his penis. Like, no! 

This is a cut and dry issue for me. Dane will not be circumcised. End of story. Thanks for shopping. Come again.

But, then there's this guy I'm married to. His name is Marvin and he sometimes wants to have a say in the decisions we make in our family. (Annoying.) He says yes. He says he will be circumcised. He uses the same excuses you always hear: it's easier to clean, it's what people do, etc. 

I'm not convinced that it's easier to clean. I mean: what's easier to clean? Your armpit WITH your arm covering it or your armpit free of an arm. Obviously, it's easier to clean your underarm if you don't have an arm obstructing your entrance to your armpit, but we aren't all goin' crazy removing babies' arms at birth! 

It's not necessarily what people do, either! More and more people are leaving their little boys "intact". 

I told Marvin this. It didn't seem to matter. He still says he should get circumcised.  

Now, let's take a moment away from circumcision talk to explain something to the non-married folk. In every marriage, there is a pain-in-the ass. I am WELL AWARE that I am the pain-in-the-ass. Marvin lives his life care free. He listens to me bitch, cry, complain, he follows directions, he rubs my pregnant feet, he goes to work, he plays with our daughter, he does EVERYTHING without complaining. I've literally never heard this man complain. I mean it. I've never heard him complain once. My whole life is one big complaint. I affectionately call him "Marvin the Martyr".

Marvin the Martyr lives his life by this theory: Happy wife, happy life. And, let me tell ya folks, when I'm your wife that is a TOUGH theory to uphold.

So, normally, no matter what I throw at him he just goes with it. Not this. He is holding strong. 

What are we going to do, you ask? I'm going to let Marvin make this decision. He's never felt strong enough about anything to question my position and I heard someone say one time that marriage is about compromise (pssssst). So, we're compromising. Marvin can decide if Dane is circumcised or not and I can decide every decision for the rest of our lives (like I've been doing all along).
 

The Three Types of Moms

I think it's time that we take a break from "What to REALLY Expect". I could sense some non-Mamas were starting to reevaluate their decision to one day have children.

Instead, today I'm going to talk about the three types of moms: The Laid Back Mom, The Typical Mom and the Psycho Mom.

The Laid Back Mom is the mom that lets most things roll off her shoulders. My Sister-in-Law (remember? the freak of nature) is this type of mom. She didn't stress during her pregnancy. She wasn't nervous about all the things that could go wrong. She was calm as a cucumber. This woman was 39 weeks pregnant and people would say to her "I bet you're SO ready". She'd respond: "Hmm.. not really. I've enjoyed my pregnancy thus far. She can come when she's ready." (Side note: I never made it to 39 weeks, but if I had I would've spent every waking moment googling "GET THE BABY OUT NOW!").

The Typical Mom has some anxiety and worries, but is able to function like a normal human being. She probably googles things and calls her doctor when she has a worry, but when they reassure her that everything is fine, she trusts them. She watches a "Baby Story" from time to time and shops for clothes online. She may have taken a baby class or two.

The Psycho Mom is the mom that is.....plain nuts. She worries about every. single. thing. She is well versed in all the things that COULD go wrong and until her baby is born (and she can see he/she is fine), she trusts no one. This mom watches WAY too much TLC. 

As an example, I will tell you the story of the time I had herpes.

When I was pregnant with Elaina, my TV was constantly tuned to TLC. I would watch Baby Story, Bringing Home Baby, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant, Mystery Diagnosis, Dr. G Medical Examiner etc. 

This particular day, I was snuggled in to watch Dr. G. If you've never seen Dr. G, it's basically a show about a lady (Dr. G) trying to figure out what caused people to (mysteriously) die. Today's show was about an infant baby. I should've immediately changed the channel. I didn't. I watched intently as they laid out the story. The baby went to bed normally and when the mom woke up the baby had passed away and had scratches all over its face. It was a really, really sad story. I cried and watched waiting to find out what happened. Fast forward to the end: the woman had herpes and didn't know, she passed herpes to the baby during labor (without knowing) and the baby had contracted Herpes Encephalitis and passed away in its sleep. The scratches? Rats (I know) had climbed up and scratched the baby's face. Now, judging from the way they told the story (and the fact that there were rats running rampant) I'm going to guess that this was not the safest, most loving situation to bring a baby into. Nonetheless, I went into panic mode.

I called my doctor immediately.

Me: Hey Shannon, it's Diana Vallette, I think I have herpes can you test me?
Shannon: Ummm... ok. Tell me what's going on.
Me: I watched this show on TLC and the mom had herpes and didn't know and the baby died. I think I had a cold sore a few years ago.
Shannon: .......Why don't you come in so you can talk to Dr. Brown?
Me: Ok. Good idea.

I go to the office and tell Dr. Brown about the show I watched and how I think I have herpes now and I want to be tested.

Dr. Brown: Ok... we will test you. But, I think you're probably fine, Diana.
Me: That mom thought she was fine, too! And then look what happened!!
Dr. Brown: You don't have rats in your house, Diana. And you don't have herpes.
Me: We don't know that! 
Dr. Brown: Ok, I will test you. But, you have to promise me you will stop watching TLC. 

I ended up not having herpes. Can you guess what kind of mom I am?  What kind of mom are you/do you think you'll be?

Part Two: You're Crazy

So, we've established that you're probably going to be fat when you get pregnant. Have you accepted it? Until you've FULLY accepted it, don't read on, I don't want to overwhelm you. 

On top of being fat, you'll be irrational. I mean, if you're a girl, you (hopefully) know that you are already preeeeeetty irrational, but pregnancy will bring a whole new crazy out of you. You will cry over things that are plain stupid. You'll KNOW it's stupid. You'll know you shouldn't get worked up over it, but it won't matter because the baby has taken over your brain and you are now crazy.  So, even though you know you're mad over something stupid, you won't be able to stop yourself. 

For example, I'll tell you about the time I almost divorced Marvin. 

Have you heard of morning sickness? Probably. First of all, let's take a second to explain that whoever in the hell coined the term "MORNING sickness" is an asshole. He (it was definitely a guy) lied. It's all-day sickness. It's a general feeling of nausea that can be triggered by a smell, thought, car ride, the wind blowing, the way someone is breathing, nothing at all etc. etc. etc.

Because God REALLY has a sense of humor one of the only things that can help your all-day sickness is if you constantly have something in your stomach. Meaning you constantly eat. Meaning (duh) you're fat. 

During this pregnancy, I have established a special nutrition routine. This routine hasn't failed me yet. I haven't thrown up. For the purposes of the divorce story, you need to know that every day when I wake up I have a cup of coffee milk (stop judging me) and a banana. And then, two-ish hours later, I have a protein bar. That's my morning routine. It is necessary for me to feel like a normal human being. 

So, let's paint the scene: it's the first trimester, I just woke up, I need to get something into my stomach ASAP or I will be headed for a day full of nausea. I use one hand to pinch my nose and the other to drink my coffee (I'm pregnant and irrational, remember? So, all-of-a-sudden my coffee smells absolutely horrible). I sit at my desk and play on Facebook as Elaina watches her morning cartoons (stop judging). I'm stalking people, taking bites of my banana, posting on statuses, living the good life.....UNTIL...

I get up to go get my protein bar from the pantry and they are GONE. Now, I know they should be there because I just bought a whole new box the day before. I start to panic. I take a deep breath and rummage through the entire pantry to make sure I'm not missing it. I'm not. At this point, I'm shaking with anger.

I call Marvin on his cell phone (he's at work).

Marv: Hey, what's wrong, are y'all ok?!?!

(Why did he answer the phone like that? Because if he talks on the phone at work, he could be fired. I know this rule and therefore I've never called him on his cell before. But, this is SERIOUS there are missing protein bars and I need answers.)

Me: NO!!!! WHERE ARE THE PROTEIN BARS?
Marv: What?
Me: I just went to eat a protein bar and there are none in the pantry. I just bought a whole box. WHERE ARE THEY?
Marv: I took the box to work. I asked you to pick me up a box, so, I thought that was my box.
Me: Marvin Vallette..... are you telling me that you have an entire box of protein bars at work and I have NONE?
Marv: I'm sorry, I didn't check if you had any, I just assumed and took the box. I'm so sorry..
Me: So, you just took all the food and left me and Elaina with NOTHING. You have an entire box of protein bars and we have NOTHING. DO YOU KNOW THAT I'M PREGNANT?!?!
Marv: Huh? Yeah, I know?
Me: SO YOU JUST DON'T CARE ABOUT THE BABY?
Marv: what?
Me: I HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS MAD AT YOU IN MY LIFE!!!!!
Marv: over a protein bar?

At that point I had to hang up on him, he obviously didn't get it. Did he REALLY say "over a protein bar"? I was shaking and sweating. 

It took me about an hour to calm down from that experience. I sent him nasty novel-length text messages to which he simply responded (everytime) "I'm sorry". It is honestly THE MADDEST I have ever been at my husband since I met him. Looking at it now, it looks semi-silly.  I mean, it's just a protein bar. But, at the time it meant that my husband didn't care about me or the baby in my belly and he didn't love me anymore and he was selfish and horrible. 

I've cried when he said a girl on TV was tall. "So, what? I'm not tall enough for you now cause I'm pregnant and fat? You wish I looked like her?!?!"

I've screamed at him for not answering his phone when I was 4 months pregnant because "I COULD'VE BEEN IN LABOR!!!".

You won't make sense. You'll be crazy too.

If your husband sucks, you'll be REALLY crazy, cause my husband is basically a saint walking the Earth and I still find reasons to go crazy on his poor innocent soul.

 

What to REALLY Expect: Part One

Every pregnant lady has heard of "What to Expect When You're Expecting". It's the book that millions of women read to get ready (pause and allow a moment of laughter at "ready") for pregnancy. I read that book. I also read a million other books about pregnancy. I signed up for emails telling me what size fruit my baby resembled that week. I googled every time I didn't quite find my question in the book. And, I text messaged my mom after what I found on google scared the living daylights out of me. After my 38 weeks of pregnancy with Elaina- Marvin and I joke that I have a PhD in "Pregnancy". I'm basically an OBGYN.

The truth about the books, though, is: THEY LIE. 

Well, I mean, they lie by omission. I could write a 500 page manifesto about all the things they don't tell you in those books. So, I'm here for all the women who have never been pregnant. I'm going to tell you what it's REALLY like. I'm going to be REAL real here. (You should probably stop reading at this point if you want to continue to live in a Heidi Klum-esque pregnancy bubble.)

(Edit: if you want a book that KINDA touches on the truth of pregnancy, I would suggest reading Belly Laughs. Key word: kinda)

Part One: You're Fat 

My legs rub together when I walk. I'm not pregnant in my legs. When you imagine what you'll be like pregnant, you probably imagine yourself NOW with a belly. Stop doing that. It's only going to hurt you when you get fat. I know some of you are thinking "I won't get fat! I eat healthy, I exercise, I'm naturally thin, etc."  Blah. Blah. Blah. You're going to get fat.  Then, you'll complain to your close friends/family about how you feel disgusting, and they'll say "you're not fat, you're PREGNANT" and you'll want to donkey punch them straight in the mouth. 

I don't know why you get fat. I don't know how it works. I just know that parts that do not contain the baby puff up and it doesn't make sense, but it happens. You'll get a fuller face, your legs will get bigger, your ass will be fat, not phat, just FAT.  It just happens. I know someone out there is reading this and STILL thinking that you'll be the exception to the rule. You won't, but just for fun:

If (by some miracle) you aren't fat (wink wink). You'll get acne like it's going out of style. Yes, even if you have wonderful skin now. You'll get pimples on your face, chest and back. It's super sexy. 

If (by some other miracle) you don't get fat OR have acne, your nose will grow seven times its normal width.

So, let's put it all together: you're a young lady who is normally pretty thin, you have normal skin and a human nose . All of a sudden, there's a thing inside you that makes it impossible to pull up your jeans past your knees. You're in denial, so you try like hell to jiggle those suckers up. And, you're pregnant, so you sweat through your shirt while trying. After you give up and put on something with an elastic waist band, you spend 2 hours trying to Apricot Scrub all the acne off your face (it doesn't work) so then you spend another 2 hours trying to apply make up to hide your crater face and shade your nose down to a normal size. You text someone (husband? friend? mom?) to vent about how you feel GROSS and you just want to cry and they respond with "No. You're beautiful!! You're pregnant!" and then, again, you want to punch them in the face. 

It's HARD. It SUCKS. It's basically a year of your life that out-of-nowhere (that's how it feels) your body is completely different and you feel hideous.  It's REALLY hard if you're a person who has never had to struggle with weight. All of a sudden, you see numbers on the scale that make you shudder and you don't fit into anything and you just feel GROSS and your body feels out of your control. And, you can't vent because people are all "O-M-G you are SO CUTE". (Face punch)

Well, if you're pregnant and you want the truth, comment below or email me. I won't say "but you're creating life, you're glowing, it's magical, it's beautiful, embrace your blubber". I'll tell you what my husband tells me every time I complain: "I know it sucks, but it's for a good cause, it's not forever and I appreciate you doing this for us." (<minus the appreciate part, that's your husband's job)

So, if you're pregnant and you feel hideous and fat. You're allowed. It's hard. It sucks. But, it's not forever. It'll be over soon.

(Disclaimer: there are some freaks of nature out there (my sister-in-law) who only gain 10 lbs and wear all their pre-pregnancy clothes and look like the celebrities. Those are the people who perpetuate the rumor that pregnancy changes only your belly size. Just keep in mind, the more people like that you know, the odds that YOU will be one of those people go down. So, don't count on it.)

 Proof in pictures. The first picture is of me as a normal human being. The second picture is of me as a pregnant human being. I gained less than the normal, suggested amount. And, yet, I am deformed.