07/31/07

Week 13: Fetuses Gone Wild!

Some interesting developments inside my wife this week. According to pregnancyguideonline.com, her poor elastic uterus is shifting up and forward, so it won’t be harassing her bladder as much. This means her daily trips to the toilet should dwindle considerably. (For now.) And nearly all of Babu’s organs have formed. The webbing between its fingers and toes has diappeared; its hair and nails are growing. And more good news! Around this time, our fetus has begun peeing freely in its amniotic fluid. We’re so proud...

Posted at 10:42 AM in Push | Permalink | Comments (2)

07/30/07

Week 12: Periodic Table

Truth is, I'm too caught up in my own life. Today we had our first OB/GYN appointment at the U of C Hospital. I didn't sleep last night, obsessing over all the questions I had for the doctor, and all the things that could possibly go wrong, the least of which was, what if we hated the doctor? Sarah found it all exciting, and smiled the whole way to the hospital like we were on our way to Six Flags. We held hands in the waiting room, surrounded by women in varying states of pregnancy, most of them alone. Where were the husbands?

When we checked in, and the admitting nurse asked Sarah a battery of questions:

Have you been getting headaches? (No.)

Have you eaten soft cheeses or fish with high levels of mercury like king mackerel? (No.)

Drinking alcohol? (A...

Posted at 09:56 AM in Push | Permalink | Comments (2)

07/24/07

Week 12: No Candles

Sarah's birthday was this week, and I blew it. It wasn't entirely my fault, though; it was her first birthday without her mom. [Editor's note: two months before Sarah got pregnant, her mother died of lung cancer.] The pain of losing Mary Ann is magnified a thousand times now. To go through these nine months without her best friend, her confidante, her sparring partner, and her role model, is unthinkable. Mary Ann was a strong, funny, stubborn lady who could host an impeccable dinner party for 25 without breaking a sweat, and now she's gone.

We really miss her on birthdays. She was the one who planned the party, cooked dinner, baked the cake, got the presents, and made the whole thing special. Her absence leaves a terrible hole during celebrations.

Instead...

Posted at 10:08 AM in Push | Permalink | Comments (5)

07/20/07

Week 11: It's a Smell of a Town

If it's summer and your wife is pregnant, don't take her to New York. I love the city as much as the next guy, but walking the streets this weekend on our quick jaunt into town to visit friends, all we could smell was battling ethnic odors and fresh garbage. With Sarah's sudden olfactory prowess, there was a whole lot of gagging going on on the Lower East Side.

Of course, that didn't prevent her from stopping at a bialy place, a dim sum joint, a hole in the wall that served five dumplings for $1, and buying a quart of pickles, red peppers, and green tomatoes at The Pickle Guys, all within the span of four hours. The next day, when she woke up, she was obsessed with finding Afghan food, which sounded pretty ridiculous, but we were in New York, and so I found myself walking two...

Posted at 02:43 PM in Push | Permalink | Comments (1)

07/17/07

Week 11: . . . And Out Come the Wolves

There's a stereo on our bedroom dresser, and on top of that stereo is a little space where I've always kept Man Stuff. My wallet. Wedding ring. Deodorant. A few CDs. If I lose something, most of the time I find it there. However cramped that space may be, the top of the stereo has always been my neighborhood, and mine alone.

Shortly after Sarah got pregnant, I came home from work and found a thick copy of "What To Expect When You're Expecting" on top of the stereo. It was an ominous sign. Alarmed, I put the book on Sarah's desk. The next day, another book: "The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy." Again, I moved it without a word. But the message was obvious. Baby Stuff was moving into my neighborhood, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

The onslaught kept...

Posted at 10:20 AM in Push | Permalink | Comments (2)

07/13/07

Week 10: Hopeless Dancers

Even the most graceful of women begin bumping into things when they’re pregnant. Sarah’s weight gain hasn’t even begun yet, but her joints are loosening up and her center of gravity is all over the place. Which made dancing at the wedding interesting. Even under the best of circumstances, Sarah and I are monumentally bad dancers, and we’ve managed to get even worse. We staked out our own spot on the floor and lumbered around in slow, small circles to minimize the damage...

Posted at 10:31 AM in Push | Permalink | Comments (2)

07/12/07

Week 10: Secrets and Lies

They say you spend a third of your life in bed. I’m convinced that pregnant women spend a third of theirs in the bathroom. No matter what time I wake up, be it midnight, 6 a.m., or 4 in the afternoon, Sarah’s never in bed. If I sit up I usually hear NPR coming from the bathroom radio. Why is this?

The answer is simple. The vomiting, the digestive issues, the impromptu baths, and the insatiable need to urinate make the bathroom the only logical room for her to spend time in. She has set up a little colony in there, the centerpiece of which is a basket full of Little House on the Prairie books and New Yorkers and cooking magazines next to the toilet. She’s read everything twice. I’m convinced if the bathroom had a refrigerator and a hammock she could live in there.

Posted at 10:11 AM in Push | Permalink | Comments (0)

07/10/07

Week 9: Sweet and Viscous

A word about breasts.

A lot of men out there are obsessed with them, which makes pregnancy the utopian ideal for a red-blooded male, because suddenly everything revolves around them. But it’s also the worst kind of catch-22, because your wife’s boobs are so sensitive you’re not allowed to touch them. Or point at them. Or look at them. I can’t stress this enough: Do not toy with your pregnant wife’s breasts...

Posted at 01:54 PM in Push | Permalink | Comments (1)

07/06/07

Week 9: What Dreams May Come

I don't care what your wife does for a living; whether she's an air force pilot or a circus clown or a homemaker, she's going to want some extra pampering while she's pregnant. Guys keep telling me I should do a lot of nice things for her to stay on her good side, which is sound advice, albeit vaguely misogynistic. I look at it like this: Sarah is carrying my child. She is forfeiting significant parts of her body and brain for nine months so we can both be parents, and she deserves a little respect.

At work, Sarah is civil, professional, and a little scary, like a principal should be. She is tough enough to make 160 kids in the toughest neighborhood in Chicago shudder with fear. I've seen more than a few fourth-graders come out of her office come out in tears.

But when...

Posted at 09:54 AM in Push | Permalink | Comments (1)

07/03/07

Week 8: The Emasculation Parade

My first step was to join the male equivalent, an Expectant Dads message board. I quickly found out that was different from Sarah’s. The men, unlike the women on Sarah’s good little Stepford Wives group, cut across all lines of age, education, ethnicity, and interest level in All Things Baby. And it is a freakshow. A 100 percent technicolor circus spectacle.

Some of these guys know nothing and are in honest need of guidance.

Others are there because it’s a safe place to badmouth their wife...

Posted at 10:09 AM in Push | Permalink | Comments (1)