Tomorrow is the day. The day I find out the gender of this little, kicky baby in my belly. I woke up at 3:30 in the morning and am still awake, so I think I'm pretty excited about it. I keep trolling around Pinterest, looking at all of the big, showy ways I can make the pink or blue announcement. Attractive couples in pea coats kiss each other over boxes brimming with blue balloons. A glowing mother lovingly gazes at her slice of pink cake with tear-brimmed eyes. A woman with absolutely no body fat and a perfectly round, toned pregnant belly, wraps her naked torso in blue ribbons. What. Ev. Er.
I like a production. I like big events. I like attention. I also li...
..............................three days later.....................................
November 22, 2012
I never finished this post because I had go brush baby JAR's teeth, put on pants, take out the recycling, go to the grocery store, etc. etc. etc.
And now, instead of processing the gender of my unborn child, I am processing a car accident. A car accident with highway speeds, a semi truck, a concrete median, and me and my two precious babies.
Typically, car accidents are not funny. Unless it's a fender bender in a parking lot involving a clown balancing a stack of banana cream pies and an overweight streaker, fresh from a nearby football game. Maybe throw in a street performance artist with a couple hula hoops. That could be funny.
My car accident lacked clowns and nudity. It was not funny. So, this post will be a purely selfish, let me process my emotions through my keyboard, dear diary, type of story. I will probably cry. Good thing you can't see me. I cry like a two-year-old.
On the afternoon of our ultrasound appointment, I picked up baby JAR from daycare, and headed down the highway to meet my husband at the midwife's office. We live in a place that rains all of the time. We're kind of known for it. Real locals don't carry umbrellas. We just absorb the moisture through our sun-deprived pores. So, of course it was raining. Not heavily, but it had been raining for several days. This is nothing new or out of the ordinary.
I happily puttered down this 55 mile per hour highway, which happens to go down a very steep hill. Baby JAR was in the back, quietly looking out the window, thinking quiet two-year-old thoughts. I rounded a curve and immediately noticed a giant puddle (more like a pond or small lake) of standing water, directly in front of me. I did not want to go through the standing water. On my right was a semi truck. On my left was a concrete barrier. So I went through the standing water.
My car is small. It is low. It does not have giant tires or magic flying capabilities like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. And it just told me that it hates god damn puddles. In spite of this, it bravely attempted the standing water, completely lost contact with the road, and hydroplaned into the trailer of a semi truck. It bounced off the side of the semi truck into the concrete median. It spun around, down the hill, for what felt like two weeks and then landed in the concrete median again. Facing sideways, blocking the highway. Then it died.
The worst part was having no control of the vehicle as it spun and bounced around like a pinball. The worst part was when I thought we were going over the median into oncoming traffic (which thank God did not happen). The worst part was the seat belt and it's unforgiving pressure on the home of my unborn baby. The worst part was baby JAR crying in the backseat, "mommy, make it stop, make it stop mommy."
We are all okay. I am so thankful, grateful, stop and cry with relief joyful. I am also terrified. Life is so fragile. Things have the potential to completely change in seconds. My happiness and sanity completely depend on the health and well-being of two small people, with precious little bones, organs, and beating hearts. If you are a parent, you know that I am not being dramatic when I say that I would simply cease functioning if something happened to them.
More than 24 hours later, I am stiff, bruised, and sore, but the baby's heartbeat is strong and it looks like he/she will be just fine. Baby JAR has two small scrapes on his shoulders from the car seat straps, but is in otherwise perfect condition. Big JAR is in a state of heightened stress from the thought of potentially losing his family and having no power or control to change the unchangeable. I encourage him to work through his complicated feelings by massaging Bengay into my whiplashed neck and shoulders.
So happy Thanksgiving. This holiday means more to me now than ever before. I am thankful for my healthy family, amazing car seats, kind paramedics, and the soft cushion of amniotic fluid. I wish everyone a happy, healthy, and safe season with the people they love.
(We of course missed the ultrasound appointment, but I got an ultrasound in the emergency room. After ascertaining that my baby and placenta looked fine, they checked the gender for us. Baby refused to move his/her foot, so we were given a best guess. There's a "75% chance" that it's a...)
 |
| Boy or girl? We're not telling yet... |
