My wife and I have had incredible intensity about this subject in every possible direction. We came to this issue from the perspective of sex positive lesbian feminists who couldn't imagine doing something to our son that would cause him pain or possibly diminish his sexual experience. At the same time, Laura couldn't imagine, despite her politics, having a Jewish son who wasn't circumcised. This is way more complicated than I can begin to explain in this blog, so I'll leave it at that.
As a non-Jew, I don't have any of the cultural and tribal associations with the procedure but really get how deep some of that is for Laura and many other Jewish people. Through this process, I made it clear to Laura that, while it's not 100% her call, she gets a lot of weight inthis one. We would never choose to do this for our son if neither of us were Jewish but we are a Jewish family. ALSO, I would not be contemplating this if, given the information I had, I thought it would be a horrendously traumatizing experience for him. I'll get to that later...
We went round and round but were just unable to make a decision. I was about 80% sure that I didn't want to (and she was probably that close) but we couldn't shake Laura's relationship to Judaism and the intention we have of raising our son Jewish and how circumcision is tied to that for her. We were definitely leaning further towards the decision not to but still, Laura really couldn't feel in her gut whatwas the right decision so we just started talking to everyone we couldthink of that might have something useful to contribute.
We talked to Jews who didn't circumcise (found a bunch) and lesbians who did (also found a bunch). We wanted to talk to men who had and men who hadn't been circumcised (chatted with a few). We obesessively read Berkeley Parents Network, both about how people decided to do itand not do it and about reports on Moyels in the community who might do ours. It became clear from zillions of posts and in person comments about Chanan Feld, that if we were to do this, this would be the guy. Parent after parent reported that at their son's bris, he cried when his diaper was taken off and barely flinched when the actual cut happened.
Honestly, I was shocked. This was nothing likeI had imagined- no reports of hysterical infants, lots of blood or just general awfulness. It definitely didn't sound pleasant, but at least the reports from those who worked with Chanan made it sound quick and relatively uneventful. I also have been thinking a lot about the work that has been done about the neurobiology of the trauma of circumcisions. I can almost guarantee that the studies were done on infants circumcised in hospitals, where they're taken away from their parents, in a cold room with strangers and have the procedure done by someone with less than stellar skills than most moyels. Hell yeah, that would be traumatic, but in my mind only a fraction of that would be because of the actual cut. That's part of what a bris is to me- a bringing together of community to support and surround this new person in a time of some discomfort caused by transformation.
We still needed more counsel, so we made an appointment with Jhos Singer, the FTM Rabbi who married us almost 3 years ago. It was during this conversation that we both got clear about a lot of things. Jhos has 2 boys so we talked about his decision making process with this issue and his own kids. We talked about Laura's very complicated relationship with Judaism. We talked about how this is just the first of so many decisions that we will have to make and to choose not to do something is also making a decision. We talked about what might happen 20 years from now, when our son comes to us, so angry that we made a decision for him and what would we feel better having decided and what we might say to him. We talked about Chanah Feld, the moyel we would possibly use, and about the collective experience of a bris versus a baby naming or other type of ritual. We talked for about 2 hours and at the end, we decided that the best decision we can make right now, knowing all that we know and feeling all that we feel, is to circumcise him. It might not be the right decision but it just might be and only time will tell for us.
We're also totally getting that this is just the beginning of hard decisions that we may have to make as parents that people won't always support. Vaccines, circumcision, TV, junk food, psych meds...the list is endless and so varied in terms of magnitude.
I write this, not to justify our decision, as much as to share our experience. The end result of this journey is not at all what I expected when we learned we were having a boy 5 months ago and I think Laura would say the same...
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Cupcake Bonanza
I got a major bee in my bonnet on Sunday after looking at this blog: http://www.cupcakeblog.com/
Yellow Cupcakes with Lemon Curd and Rose Frosting
See above but add about 1/2 t chopped crystalized ginger to lemon curd inside and add a few sprinkles on top.
1 C margarine or butter
1 t vanilla
¾ t almond extract
2 eggs worth of egg replacer or 2 eggs
2 ½ C cake flour
1 C cocoa
2 t baking soda
½ t salt
2 ¼ C milk or soy milk
Makes 24 cupcakes, 48 mini cupcakes or 18 mini loaves
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add eggs/egg replacer and beat until light. Whisk dry ingredients together in one bowl and combine milk and extracts in another bowl. Alternate dry and wet in 3 batches, ending with dry and mix until well blended.
Grease and flour regular muffin tins (flour with cocoa) or pour into muffin cups or use mini cupcake pans or mini loaf pans. For regular cupcakes, bake for approximately 17-20 minutes, for loaves bake for approximately 24 minutes, for mini cupcakes, bake approximately 10 minutes
Chocolate Ganache
4 oz bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1/2 C cream
1/2 t vanilla
Heat cream until tiny bubbles form around edges. Put chocolate in heatproof bowl. Pour cream over chocolate, let sit for 1 minute, add vanilla and stir in until smooth. Let cool to room temperature.
For Mini Devils Food Cupcakes with Peanut Butter Bombs:
Use mini muffin tin and be sure to use mini paper cups or the peanut butter bombs will stick to the bottom. Add 3 Trader Joes Mini Milk Peanut Butter Cups once you have filled the tins.
For Devil's Food Cupcakes with Cherry Preserves:
Assembly
1. Using a small pairing knife, cut off the top of the cupcake in the shape of a cone. Flip the top over and cut off the cone.
2. Fill the cavity with 1 teaspoon of cherry preserves
3. Replace the top of the cone.
4. Frost
I was supposed to bring dessert to a friend's house and ended up making 4 kinds of cupcakes!
Here we have them:
Yellow Cupcakes with Lemon Curd and Rose Frosting
Vanilla Cupcakes from The Magnolia Bakery Cookbook
12 regular cupcakes / 350 degree oven
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
1-1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1. Beat butter on high until soft, about 30 seconds.
2. Add sugar. Beat on medium-high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
3. Add eggs one at a time, beat for 30 seconds between each.
4. Whisk together flour, baking powder, and baking soda in a bowl.
5. Measure out milk and vanilla together.
6. Add about a fourth of the flour to the butter/sugar mixture and beat to combine.
7. Add about one third the milk/vanilla mixture and beat until combined.
8. Repeat above, alternating flour and milk and ending with the flour mixture.
9. Scoop into cupcake papers about half to three-quarters full (depending on whether you want flat or domed cupcakes).
10. Bake for 20-22 minutes until a cake tester comes out clean
Assembly
1. Using a small pairing knife, cut off the top of the cupcake in the shape of a cone. Flip the top over and cut off the cone.
2. Fill the cavity with 1 teaspoon of Lemon Curd
3. Replace the top of the cone.
4. Frost
Lemon Rose Frosting
6 C powdered sugar
1 C butter or margarine
4 T lemon juice
1 t vanilla
1/2 t rose extract
Beat butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add extracts. Add lemon juice a tablespoon at a time until it reaches desired consistency.
Yellow Cupcakes with Crystallized Ginger and Lemon Curd and Rose Frosting
See above but add about 1/2 t chopped crystalized ginger to lemon curd inside and add a few sprinkles on top.
Devil's Food Cupcakes with Cherry Preserves &
Mini Devils Food Cupcakes with Peanut Butter Bombs
Mini Devils Food Cupcakes with Peanut Butter Bombs
Devils Food Cupcakes
2 C sugar1 C margarine or butter
1 t vanilla
¾ t almond extract
2 eggs worth of egg replacer or 2 eggs
2 ½ C cake flour
1 C cocoa
2 t baking soda
½ t salt
2 ¼ C milk or soy milk
Makes 24 cupcakes, 48 mini cupcakes or 18 mini loaves
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add eggs/egg replacer and beat until light. Whisk dry ingredients together in one bowl and combine milk and extracts in another bowl. Alternate dry and wet in 3 batches, ending with dry and mix until well blended.
Grease and flour regular muffin tins (flour with cocoa) or pour into muffin cups or use mini cupcake pans or mini loaf pans. For regular cupcakes, bake for approximately 17-20 minutes, for loaves bake for approximately 24 minutes, for mini cupcakes, bake approximately 10 minutes
Chocolate Ganache
4 oz bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1/2 C cream
1/2 t vanilla
Heat cream until tiny bubbles form around edges. Put chocolate in heatproof bowl. Pour cream over chocolate, let sit for 1 minute, add vanilla and stir in until smooth. Let cool to room temperature.
For Mini Devils Food Cupcakes with Peanut Butter Bombs:
Use mini muffin tin and be sure to use mini paper cups or the peanut butter bombs will stick to the bottom. Add 3 Trader Joes Mini Milk Peanut Butter Cups once you have filled the tins.
For Devil's Food Cupcakes with Cherry Preserves:
Assembly
1. Using a small pairing knife, cut off the top of the cupcake in the shape of a cone. Flip the top over and cut off the cone.
2. Fill the cavity with 1 teaspoon of cherry preserves
3. Replace the top of the cone.
4. Frost
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Evidently, we're one of THOSE kinds of families
I've always heard about families where some members don't speak to others. I never understood how or why that happens. I certainly couldn't imagine things ever getting to that point in my family.
Until now.
I realized on Christmas morning that I am, in fact, a member of one of those kinds of families. And even more, I'm one of the people in the standoff. It's bizarre.
The short version is that I had a falling out with a family member this summer over their poor treatment of myself and Laura at their wedding. Since that event, we haven't ACTUALLY spoken to each other. We've spoken to her spouse, parents, etc, but never directly to her. Still, I thought, at some point we'll have to talk to each other. Evidently not.
It became really clear on Christmas morning when I called the house where they were with other family members and spoke to EVERY other member, including their spouse, except for them. When we hung up, I sort of half smiled and nodded my head in recognition and said, "Ah, THAT'S what this is".
We really have nothing else to say to each other so it *is* easier not to talk to each other than to have very awkward forced conversations. Still, I really never thought I'd think this was the best answer.
This is only practice for parenthood, right? Your family never turns out the way you thought it would and you end up doing things you swore you'd never do :-)
Until now.
I realized on Christmas morning that I am, in fact, a member of one of those kinds of families. And even more, I'm one of the people in the standoff. It's bizarre.
The short version is that I had a falling out with a family member this summer over their poor treatment of myself and Laura at their wedding. Since that event, we haven't ACTUALLY spoken to each other. We've spoken to her spouse, parents, etc, but never directly to her. Still, I thought, at some point we'll have to talk to each other. Evidently not.
It became really clear on Christmas morning when I called the house where they were with other family members and spoke to EVERY other member, including their spouse, except for them. When we hung up, I sort of half smiled and nodded my head in recognition and said, "Ah, THAT'S what this is".
We really have nothing else to say to each other so it *is* easier not to talk to each other than to have very awkward forced conversations. Still, I really never thought I'd think this was the best answer.
This is only practice for parenthood, right? Your family never turns out the way you thought it would and you end up doing things you swore you'd never do :-)
Monday, December 24, 2007
The Politics of Birth
It's such an interesting experience to be planning a home birth for our baby and to be working in a job that is directly linked to Obstetrics and a population that typically chooses a type of birth that is generally in direct opposition to that. Every time an associate (not in my direct work group, but outside educators, etc) asks where we are going to have the baby, I make a funny little smile with my eyebrows up, nod my head a few times and say "a home birth" in a tone that says "can you believe it"? They usually grimace involuntarily (I work with a lot of nurses) and say, "REALLY? WHY!?!". I had a very sweet L&D nurse literally beg me to have us do it in the hospital, promising that it would be just like home and she'd take care of everything.
I really think birth is one of the most polarized topics in America. When I try to explain to our friends who aren't familiar with this issue why we've had so much trouble with reactions (from our former Ob staff who stalled getting our charts to the midwives, from colleagues, etc) I explain that it's almost like the tension between Anti-Choice and Pro-Choice camps. It's a lot less visible but when you scratch the surface it feels like that kind of intensity.
The other funny part is that most of the nurse-midwives I know would choose a homebirth for themselves but L&D nurses and Obs are generally horrified. I think this goes to the fundamental difference in Obstetrics versus Midwifery (and L&D nurses are trained in the Obstetric model). Midwifery assumes that birth is a normal proces and all things will proceed normally unless shown otherwise. In contrast, Obstetrics (a specialty really for high risk births) assumes that something can go wrong at any minute and probably will. Obstetrics is a critical field and god knows I'd want an obstetrician (and we'll have one in reserve at the hospital) in case there are any complications. However, I just don't think normal births need to be monitored and attended by Obs.
When people ask me how I could take the chance that something could go wrong I just want to whip out all the statistics on the mortality and morbidity statistics on home v hospital births. The mortality rates are the same but the morbidity rates (injuries and complications) are significantly higher for hospital births. I'm WAY more afraid of birth in a hospital given all the unnecessary interventions that lead to more interventions that lead to complications.
Enough of that. Off to my job that I really love despite the apparent philosophical conflicts!
I really think birth is one of the most polarized topics in America. When I try to explain to our friends who aren't familiar with this issue why we've had so much trouble with reactions (from our former Ob staff who stalled getting our charts to the midwives, from colleagues, etc) I explain that it's almost like the tension between Anti-Choice and Pro-Choice camps. It's a lot less visible but when you scratch the surface it feels like that kind of intensity.
The other funny part is that most of the nurse-midwives I know would choose a homebirth for themselves but L&D nurses and Obs are generally horrified. I think this goes to the fundamental difference in Obstetrics versus Midwifery (and L&D nurses are trained in the Obstetric model). Midwifery assumes that birth is a normal proces and all things will proceed normally unless shown otherwise. In contrast, Obstetrics (a specialty really for high risk births) assumes that something can go wrong at any minute and probably will. Obstetrics is a critical field and god knows I'd want an obstetrician (and we'll have one in reserve at the hospital) in case there are any complications. However, I just don't think normal births need to be monitored and attended by Obs.
When people ask me how I could take the chance that something could go wrong I just want to whip out all the statistics on the mortality and morbidity statistics on home v hospital births. The mortality rates are the same but the morbidity rates (injuries and complications) are significantly higher for hospital births. I'm WAY more afraid of birth in a hospital given all the unnecessary interventions that lead to more interventions that lead to complications.
Enough of that. Off to my job that I really love despite the apparent philosophical conflicts!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Perfection Is a Bitch
I've never thought of myself as a perfectionist. When I bake, my goodies always taste great but are a little lopsided or smeared. I'd rather finish something quickly than have it be absolutely right. I'm queen of stupid typos. And yet, evidently I'm horrified by the idea that I'm not perfect.
I was shocked to discover this, honestly.
It started with a rambling monologue to Laura after our Post-Thanksgiving party about how I felt like life was turning into a blur and that I was sort of just skimming through everything. It feels like someone speeded up my life in the last few years and I'm running behind the train, clutching desperately to the railing on the caboose, my poor little toes banging in the gravel.
The speed up started about 5 years ago when Laura and I got together, I think. I LIVE to have things to look forward to. Clearly I'm not a Buddhist. Living in the present is not one of my strong suits. Deriving pleasure from thinking about what is coming rather than what is actually happening was a great coping mechanism when things were hard when I was a kid. It's not serving me so well these days though...
My looking forward all the time hasn't changed but the timelines started to expand. Instead of planning for how I was going to snag my next hunk of butch eye candy the coming weekend, I was planning for Laura's next visit 3 months out while she lived in Amherst for our first year together. Then the next marker was when I would finish grad school and move back to California (wow who knew a year and a half could go so fast). Then it was our wedding. Now it's when the baby arrives. Every marker has been filled with such delightful things and I love it.
And...
I have such a mixed experience of being so pleased that it doesn't feel like I have to wait that long and feeling scared by how fast they come. I'm always happy when the thing I was looking forward to comes rushing up so quickly but I'm always a little disappointed that I don't have some fun new thing to look forward to. The big gaps in between these markers just starts to feel like I'm killing time and it all blurs together.
Maybe it's a 30's crisis. My 20's were so much about presenting myself to new people, discovering who I was, about flashy, shiny, volatile things. A little traumatic sometimes but never boring and punctuated by lots of things to provide contrast with everyday life. Then it all began to fall into place. I found what I was looking for in all that dating. Found the person who loves all the "me's" that I trotted out. Found a job that I could really stay with. Love where I'm living. My little jauggernaut self is slowing down and settling in. And completely freaking out.
Life in my 30s versus the years before is a little like living in California versus the East Coast. The lack of seasons in California makes me feel like the years just blend together. There's no contrast, no season change, no attention getting weather to mark the "winter of 1994" and give a point of reference. And then I feel like shit for being discontent. My life is fairly...perfect.
So, the perfection piece.
I have a job I really like and finally feel like I'm being used to my potential. This in particular terrifies me. What happens if I finally have an opportunity to use this fantastic potential, to really show my stuff and I'm...average? The very idea was enough to make me so dizzy last night I literally felt the room spin counterclockwise.
My entire life I've praised for being "special" or "unique" from most people in a position to make such declarations (particularly as a kid). Just last night I realized that this translated in my head to "better". Ick. Now I'm facing the possibility that at my job I may not always be the superstar. Double ick. Who am I if I'm not special and different and the best?
As a kid I got lots of praise from adults for being not like other kids (very responsible, polite, able to hold adult conversation, etc) with the gist being that I was "better" than most of those wild, self-centered ragamuffins. This desire to always please and having the uncanny (translate: co-dependent) ability to figure out exactly what someone wants and give it to them before they even know they wanted it made my bosses and parents and adults very happy. Didn't work out so well with lovers but that's another entry...
Now I have a full workload for the first time in my life, my boss (my mentor) is out sick for an indefinite period of time and I'm scrambling just to cover the basics. I don't have time to do "extra credit" let alone cover what I need to. I'm making mistakes and I'm not saving the day. She's finding out that I'm forgetting things or not 100% on top of projects. I'm not holding down the fort to perfection. And I'm terrified that she'll suddenly wake up one day and realize, "Jaime is actually not fantastic. She's good". Then she won't want me anymore. Uh, deep seated issues anyone?
I've being groomed to take on a bigger role at work that will include a lot of what she currently does, if/when she moves up to her boss's job. Since she's been out sick, I've seen the 9 trillion things she has to keep track of and am quickly losing my taste to take over her job. Do I really want to feel like I have to keep 40 plates spinning ALL THE TIME? That sounds like way too much work. And then I think I'm lazy for thinking that. Add to that, my existential crisis along the lines of, "if I don't want to be at the top then what the hell is the point?" Ah the warping that comes from being the child of overachievers.
So, evidently I'm not perfect. Saying that out loud made me burst into tears and my chest tight and the room go all rubbery. Discovering this skeleton in my closet is a hell of a thing to come to at 31. Guess it's better that I'm figuring this out before the kid gets here. I hear motherhood is all about feeling like you're never good enough.
Sweet.
I was shocked to discover this, honestly.
It started with a rambling monologue to Laura after our Post-Thanksgiving party about how I felt like life was turning into a blur and that I was sort of just skimming through everything. It feels like someone speeded up my life in the last few years and I'm running behind the train, clutching desperately to the railing on the caboose, my poor little toes banging in the gravel.
The speed up started about 5 years ago when Laura and I got together, I think. I LIVE to have things to look forward to. Clearly I'm not a Buddhist. Living in the present is not one of my strong suits. Deriving pleasure from thinking about what is coming rather than what is actually happening was a great coping mechanism when things were hard when I was a kid. It's not serving me so well these days though...
My looking forward all the time hasn't changed but the timelines started to expand. Instead of planning for how I was going to snag my next hunk of butch eye candy the coming weekend, I was planning for Laura's next visit 3 months out while she lived in Amherst for our first year together. Then the next marker was when I would finish grad school and move back to California (wow who knew a year and a half could go so fast). Then it was our wedding. Now it's when the baby arrives. Every marker has been filled with such delightful things and I love it.
And...
I have such a mixed experience of being so pleased that it doesn't feel like I have to wait that long and feeling scared by how fast they come. I'm always happy when the thing I was looking forward to comes rushing up so quickly but I'm always a little disappointed that I don't have some fun new thing to look forward to. The big gaps in between these markers just starts to feel like I'm killing time and it all blurs together.
Maybe it's a 30's crisis. My 20's were so much about presenting myself to new people, discovering who I was, about flashy, shiny, volatile things. A little traumatic sometimes but never boring and punctuated by lots of things to provide contrast with everyday life. Then it all began to fall into place. I found what I was looking for in all that dating. Found the person who loves all the "me's" that I trotted out. Found a job that I could really stay with. Love where I'm living. My little jauggernaut self is slowing down and settling in. And completely freaking out.
Life in my 30s versus the years before is a little like living in California versus the East Coast. The lack of seasons in California makes me feel like the years just blend together. There's no contrast, no season change, no attention getting weather to mark the "winter of 1994" and give a point of reference. And then I feel like shit for being discontent. My life is fairly...perfect.
So, the perfection piece.
I have a job I really like and finally feel like I'm being used to my potential. This in particular terrifies me. What happens if I finally have an opportunity to use this fantastic potential, to really show my stuff and I'm...average? The very idea was enough to make me so dizzy last night I literally felt the room spin counterclockwise.
My entire life I've praised for being "special" or "unique" from most people in a position to make such declarations (particularly as a kid). Just last night I realized that this translated in my head to "better". Ick. Now I'm facing the possibility that at my job I may not always be the superstar. Double ick. Who am I if I'm not special and different and the best?
As a kid I got lots of praise from adults for being not like other kids (very responsible, polite, able to hold adult conversation, etc) with the gist being that I was "better" than most of those wild, self-centered ragamuffins. This desire to always please and having the uncanny (translate: co-dependent) ability to figure out exactly what someone wants and give it to them before they even know they wanted it made my bosses and parents and adults very happy. Didn't work out so well with lovers but that's another entry...
Now I have a full workload for the first time in my life, my boss (my mentor) is out sick for an indefinite period of time and I'm scrambling just to cover the basics. I don't have time to do "extra credit" let alone cover what I need to. I'm making mistakes and I'm not saving the day. She's finding out that I'm forgetting things or not 100% on top of projects. I'm not holding down the fort to perfection. And I'm terrified that she'll suddenly wake up one day and realize, "Jaime is actually not fantastic. She's good". Then she won't want me anymore. Uh, deep seated issues anyone?
I've being groomed to take on a bigger role at work that will include a lot of what she currently does, if/when she moves up to her boss's job. Since she's been out sick, I've seen the 9 trillion things she has to keep track of and am quickly losing my taste to take over her job. Do I really want to feel like I have to keep 40 plates spinning ALL THE TIME? That sounds like way too much work. And then I think I'm lazy for thinking that. Add to that, my existential crisis along the lines of, "if I don't want to be at the top then what the hell is the point?" Ah the warping that comes from being the child of overachievers.
So, evidently I'm not perfect. Saying that out loud made me burst into tears and my chest tight and the room go all rubbery. Discovering this skeleton in my closet is a hell of a thing to come to at 31. Guess it's better that I'm figuring this out before the kid gets here. I hear motherhood is all about feeling like you're never good enough.
Sweet.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Dreamy Thanksgiving Weekend
Thanksgiving is like some magical holiday that I dreamed up (minus the introduction of smallpox and decimation of native people at it's origin). I live to feed large groups of people. We had our regular Thanksgiving with Laura's cousin (about 9 people), attended 2 other post-Thanksgiving gatherings and just hosted our own. It really was my dream come true to have 20 people, many of whom don't know each other at my house, hanging out, eating delicious food and mingling. I know that could easily be someone's worst nightmare, but I'm never happier than when we have a house full of people. Must be residuals from growing up as an only child. There were a few kids and it was so cool to realize that that will soon be what our house is like a lot of the time. The chaos is going to be a bitch, but it sure beats a lonely house...
Friday, November 16, 2007
The Shitty Ultrasound Tech
Laura and I had our big 20 week ultrasound on Wednesday. We've been excited for days about seeing a clearer picture of our little spudnut and finding out the sex (I know, we're bad lesbians for wanting to know). My mom was driving from an hour away to meet us. We were totally ready and chomping to get started.
We get there right on time and sit. And sit. And sit. For about 45 minutes. No problem. We have free entertainment.
There's the large woman with her mother (?) who both seem like total tweakers and I can't figure out who is pregnant. The younger one is talking very loudly on her cell phone (at first on speaker phone) and proudly telling the story about how they almost had to call security on her at the hospital. Never found out why but it didn't sound like a very good reason. Not sure I want to know but thrilled that she's procreating.
Then there was another set of two women further away with a screaming baby about a year old. The bottle of formula shut him up eventually.
Then there is the woman sitting directly across from us by herself who doesn't look very pregnant and looks very over the whole thing. After about 30 minutes she finally just gets up and walks out. Guess she didn't want to see her baby either. Or she ditched someone (she didn't look that pregnant either). Weird.
Finally! Our tech comes to get us! Laura introduces me and my Mom to the tech. Hardly makes eye contact. This is going to be fun. While we chat about how excited we are the tech just points to our room, tells Laura she can go to the bathroom and says one of us can stand by her and one can sit in the chair. I go stand next to the exam table and we begin.
It all looks like Rorschack tests as she moves the wand around, snapping pictures and writing cryptic captions. This goes on with no comment or explanation for about 2 minutes when I ask what part we're seeing. In a complete monotone, she says, "the head". I ask about another part. "Leg". This goes on until I'm afraid she's going to hurt Laura b/c she's so annoyed with me so I shut up. Then she gets to some bright white spot and labels it "????." We ask what it is. "I dunno" she responds.
Nice. That's comforting.
We told her that we were open to knowing the sex, if she could tell, when we first started. She gave a barely perceptible nod. About 3/4 of the way through the process, she mumbles something that ends in "oy". We all said, "WHAT?". She says, only a tiny bit louder, "Boy." And goes on cataloguing the parts. We were a little stunned and then realized...holy crap, she said we're having a BOY!
Guess we weren't getting any champagne that day.
I'm still not sure if she was just sullen or homophobic. Regardless I hope she finds a new job soon, b/c she clearly hates looking for tiny little baby parts for excited happy people. I bet she smashes the toys of small children for fun.
Fucker.
We get there right on time and sit. And sit. And sit. For about 45 minutes. No problem. We have free entertainment.
There's the large woman with her mother (?) who both seem like total tweakers and I can't figure out who is pregnant. The younger one is talking very loudly on her cell phone (at first on speaker phone) and proudly telling the story about how they almost had to call security on her at the hospital. Never found out why but it didn't sound like a very good reason. Not sure I want to know but thrilled that she's procreating.
Then there was another set of two women further away with a screaming baby about a year old. The bottle of formula shut him up eventually.
Then there is the woman sitting directly across from us by herself who doesn't look very pregnant and looks very over the whole thing. After about 30 minutes she finally just gets up and walks out. Guess she didn't want to see her baby either. Or she ditched someone (she didn't look that pregnant either). Weird.
Finally! Our tech comes to get us! Laura introduces me and my Mom to the tech. Hardly makes eye contact. This is going to be fun. While we chat about how excited we are the tech just points to our room, tells Laura she can go to the bathroom and says one of us can stand by her and one can sit in the chair. I go stand next to the exam table and we begin.
It all looks like Rorschack tests as she moves the wand around, snapping pictures and writing cryptic captions. This goes on with no comment or explanation for about 2 minutes when I ask what part we're seeing. In a complete monotone, she says, "the head". I ask about another part. "Leg". This goes on until I'm afraid she's going to hurt Laura b/c she's so annoyed with me so I shut up. Then she gets to some bright white spot and labels it "????." We ask what it is. "I dunno" she responds.
Nice. That's comforting.
We told her that we were open to knowing the sex, if she could tell, when we first started. She gave a barely perceptible nod. About 3/4 of the way through the process, she mumbles something that ends in "oy". We all said, "WHAT?". She says, only a tiny bit louder, "Boy." And goes on cataloguing the parts. We were a little stunned and then realized...holy crap, she said we're having a BOY!
Guess we weren't getting any champagne that day.
I'm still not sure if she was just sullen or homophobic. Regardless I hope she finds a new job soon, b/c she clearly hates looking for tiny little baby parts for excited happy people. I bet she smashes the toys of small children for fun.
Fucker.
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