FORE!

This is so random...

Yesterday evening, as JR and I sat peacefully in our car at a red light, something hit us. BIM! (French people say "bim"--pronounce "beem"--unlike us Americans who say "bam"). Was that a tire popping? A gunshot? No, not loud enough to be a gunshot... A BB gunshot?

As JR and I recovered from our one second of recoiling in fear, I turned around and scanned the street for possible suspects nearby. Then I saw a golfball slowly rolling in the middle of the street.... It hit our roof! Luckily it didn't crash through a window--or worse yet fly through the opened passenger window and knock me in the face!

As we inched forward at the green light, I saw a lone golfer--an older gentleman--staring confusedly out in the distance, toward the street. I yelled "Thanks a lot, buddy!" and he looked at me even more confused (luckily my hormonal anger didn't make me say something worse). Who would put a golfing range parallel to a busy street anyway? With a low fence? Drivers on Pruneridge in Santa Clara, beware!

Even if he did shout "FORE!" would drivers shut in their cars, helplessly stuck at a red light, really be able to do anything about a golfball whizzing their way?

Why do golfers shout "FORE!" anyway? There are several possible explanations.

Anyway, just thought I'd share that random event. :)

April and June showers: shower #2

Now this one wasn't a total surprise but even though I knew the date and time of the special event, there were still plenty of surprising details! My friends Elaine and Donna, my Aunt Denise, and (once again) my sister Jen, put on this AWESOME party for me.

Some big surprises: my cousin Sharon flew in from Arizona just to come to my shower, and my old buddy Gretchen (who I've know since we were 4 yrs old) drove down from Vacaville. Plus a bunch of my friends and coworkers came and brought wonderful food (mmm I love Middle Eastern cuisine! And Indian and Chinese!)

Here are the beautiful decorations Jen and Shawn prepared and the delicious, adorable cake Denise brought:


Thank goodness we ate lunch first...the "dirty diaper game" might have spoiled some peoples' appetites. But to me, those chocolate bars smelled pretty good--way better than any diaper I bet!


Elaine and Donna were the leaders of the games and giver of prizes and did a great job entertaining us all. JR and I are still looking through everyone's name sheets for the "name game", since we have not yet found a name for little "bibi". But, sorry, Denise, I don't think Egbert will quite suit our son ;). Neither, Jen, will "Uno." That game showed how really horrible I am at choosing boy's names, since my list included names like "Rocky" and, like Denise..."Egbert"...

After the fellas came home (JR and my brother-in-law Shawn), JR excitedly "opened" the presents for our little one. He was especially excited over the little Broncos outfits. And we are both amazed by everyone's generosity. Now the challenge will be installing the car seat...Sorry, JR, but I'm making an appointment with the CHP or fire station to check your work.... ;)

And finally Elaine could express her enthusiasm over the awesome invitations, which deserve at least 1 photo. Thanks to her and her graphic designer friend, I will have a beautifully decorated nursery with the personal touch of my friends and loved ones. The picture doesn't quite do it justice, but these look great and I love how everyone was so creative!

April and June showers: shower #1

Two baby showers...filled with great family and friends, fun times, and delicious food! Yes, I feel totally spoiled. And our baby will be totally spoiled ;). The first shower in April was a total surprise. It was a small one with my sister, grandma, aunt, cousins, and my uncle's mother (my uncle escaped as soon as the meal was done). They threw it for me while I was visiting them up in Oregon, I guess partly since they would not be able to come to the other baby shower later on. It is hard being so far away from family...

So, shower #1: My sister Jen, who usually cannot keep a secret for the life of her, pulled this one off like a charm. Usually I can tell the second she's lying or hiding something just by looking at her face--her eyes widen a bit, sparkling with their secret knowledge, and her mouth fights a smile but eventually loses. This time, however, she was cool and calm and with the help of the rest of my family they really got me.

Jen suggested we go for a walk Sunday morning and I was happy to go along. When we returned my Aunt Sue opened the door with a huge grin and cheerfully greeted us, "Good morning!!!" And they both stared at me with these crazy grins while I wondered what the heck was wrong with them to be so happy... Finally my aunt had to break through my foggy preggy brain: "Don't you see...?" and there in the dining room I found an Elmo-clad table with balloons and the rest of my family smiling at me.

After a delicious brunch, we played some games including the one where you can't say the word "baby" (I was horrible at this), the memory game (trying to remember as many baby items as possible that were on a tray), and guess-how-may-toilet-paper-squares-Karen's- waist-is. I accidentally won the game guessing my waist size--I think it was 11 TP squares.

Then I opened presents and we all oooh'ed and aaaaw'ed over the cute baby clothes and other tiny items. In all the pictures I'm rather dazed-looking, and I did actually feel the shock while looking at the clothes thinking Oh my gosh, I'm going to have a baby that will fit in this...This is for real!

And finally, who knew baby showers could have gag gifts? At least, this last item I opened seemed to be a sort of gag gift... "Bust Firming Cream"? C'mon, a cream can't really do all that....

And here's my family after the festivities (my Uncle Birol returned after all the girly stuff was over ;) ):

OK, so I'm terrified...

Let me start out by saying what happened last night in my Childbirth Preparation class is extremely embarrassing. But I'm writing about it anyway. After all, I'm only human...and sometimes these humbling things happen for a reason...

The teacher warned us last week: "The next class has some very graphic videos. So if you tend to get woozy, I suggest you sit in the back of the room so you can step out easily."

JR and I sat in the front.

I don't really like seeing blood and needles and the like but I figured I'd just close my eyes. I chatted a bit with the woman next to me, both of us saying we didn't want to see the needle and that we were going to look away. But as the scene of the epidural came on, my eyes were glued to the screen in something between horror and amazement. Oh that's not so bad, I thought. I can totally watch this stuff.

A few minutes later I started feeling very hot--not so abnormal for being 7 months pregnant. Then the nausea came. I casually got up to go to the bathroom although it wasn't for the usual reason--I felt like I was going to faint. In the bathroom I thought, What's wrong with me??? Please God, just let me get through this class... And after a couple minutes of humming a soothing song to myself, I felt better and strolled back into class.

As the teacher continued on about the different devices they can insert inside you to monitor the baby, the hot flashes and nausea slowly returned. We passed around the long plastic tubes and hooks and clamps. I inspected each with almost a cool, medical-like curiosity. That's the strange part: I didn't feel any emotions. I didn't feel grossed out or nervous or scared. Physically, though, it was another story--my body was trying to tell me something.

"Bibi, I don't feel good," I whispered. "I feel like I'm going to pass out." It was bad now, the dizziness and nausea and sweats overwhelming me.

He looked at me, worried. "What? You're scaring me!" he whispered back. I couldn't take it anymore--I needed to get out of there and fast. I tugged on his arm, "Come with me."

We walked out of the class, through the rows of couples, me clamped on to JR's shoulder and arm. I wanted to go downstairs and outside but I couldn't make it. I lay down right there on the floor, at the top of the stairwell, sweating and ghost-white.

A cleaning woman gasped when she saw my limp body on the floor. "You OK?" she called. JR answered awkwardly, "Oh, um, yes, she's fine, she's...pregnant and not feeling well."

I wasn't sure if the woman understood him, as she just asked "Alcohol?" I was thinking No, woman! I'm not drunk! JR understood differently: "Um, she shouldn't have alcohol, she's pregnant...Um, thanks..."

"No...to smell," said the woman. I didn't think smelling alcohol would make me feel any better. "No thanks."

After lying down for a bit there on the floor, I felt okay enough to make it down the stairs and out into the fresh air. We stayed there a few minutes and slowly I was revived. Then we made our way back up to class. No way was I missing anything more.

We got back to class in time to watch plenty of births, complete with close-ups of the baby coming out. I giggled uncomfortably while the baby's head was out and the body still inside. Then the shoulders and rest of the body came and JR whispered, "Oh SH--!" I elbowed him. I felt fine now, staring with amazement, trying to stifle my tears at the happy parents with their strange-colored babies.

We got in the car after class. As we approached home I burst into tears. JR looked over at me. "Oh my gosh, what's WRONG?!"

"I'm scared," I answered, sobbing. And I continued to cry a while. It felt good. All I wanted was to watch some TV, eat ice cream, and go to bed early. Which is what I did.

I couldn't help one last joke before bed. JR was eating some rabit pate, and I looked at the grayish, clumpy stuff and said, "Ya know, that's exactly what the baby's skin looks like when it comes out." JR looked at me with his mouth full, slightly disgusted, then swallowed. "Great, Bibi," he said, and continued eating. Darn, I couldn't get him to throw that crap out, I thought.

Mock Turtleneck and Clothespins

Yes, a mock turtleneck and clothespins were just a couple of the props the teacher used in my first childbirth preparation class. The green and blue striped mock turtleneck sweater was wrapped around a newborn-sized doll, the long neck bunched over the top of the doll's head as a makeshift cervix.

"And then, as the cervix thins or becomes ripe, it looks like this..." the teacher explained while pushing the head through the scrunched up material until it became a perfect 10-centimeter diameter hole. I tried hard to imagine that cotton turtleneck as a slimy, pinkish, dilating cervix but it was a stretch (pun intended).

The enthusiastic teacher then place the sweatered doll in a model of the pelvis bones (thank goodness, the bones were not made from tube socks or salad bowls). She pressed the head down on top of the opening, where the baby would come out. Hmmm, it doesn't look like that'll fit, I thought. And she pressed some more but still the head did not pop through those pelvis bones. The teacher quickly tossed both baby and bones aside. Ah ha! I knew it wouldn't fit! I chuckled inwardly... Oh wait, that's not so funny...

Later on, all 14 couples were on the floor on our blankets, partners behind us, with pillows stuck around us for added comfort. "Everyone take two clothespins," yelled out the teacher. "This will be our simulation for the pain of contractions." My mind quickly conjured images of us women squeezing the clothespins on our nipples. Ouch! Then I thought, No, silly, don't be obscene...maybe they're for our eyelids... Before I could get too worried, the teacher grinned and announced "And these are for your partner, not you." Oh then we're going to put them on their..."You will clip them on your partners' ear lobes." I sighed in relief as JR squirmed a bit. "And you will press them tight with your fingers." I laughed.

"Ready, bibi?" I said as I clipped them on. "Ca te fait mal, bibi?" I said.

His back toward me, he softly said, "Oui."

"Really? It really hurts?" I asked again.

"Oui!"

"Well, OK, sorry, but I have to press now," I said as I crunched the clothespins more tightly closed with my index fingers and thumbs. After all, the students must obey the teacher, right?

I then looked at the couple across from us as I calmly tortured my dear husband. The woman was squirming, daintily clipping the clothespins on her husband's lobes then quickly removing them. "Sorry sorry sorry!" she apologized, full of guilt and dread. She put down the pins and put her fingers on her hubby's earlobes in what looked more like accupressure than contraction simulation.

Just after that exercise she looked across at me and smiled a little embarrassed. "I just couldn't do it!" I stared at her blankly, smiled, then muttered dumbly, "That's OK." She was not as cruel as me, I guess. I felt a little twinge of guilt knowing how easy it was for me. After all, a couple little clothespins are nothing compared to active labor, right?

* * * * *

This morning I asked JR, "So...do you want to be my coach?" I suddenly realized this was assumed, that maybe he didn't want that much responsibility or pressure.

"Of course!" he smiled. "I'm going to be the best coach in the world!"

I laughed, tears welling up in my eyes (yes, I cry at everything nowadays). Then he added, "Besides, the hard part only lasts 3 hours anyway."

I laughed harder, the tears vanishing. "What?! You don't know that!" I yelled.

No, we don't know how long it will last. We don't know anything. Sometimes I don't know if I even want to know. And we just have to be OK with that. And maybe distract ourselves with images of turtlenecks and clothespins.