Remembering the belly

From Photo of me

An inventory of what I miss and what I don't miss about being pregnant...particularly very, very, very pregnant.

My belly grew more quickly than my sense of self could contain and so I never stopped running into door jams with it as I tried to slide through a half-opened door. Our only raised cupboard buts into a corner and the glasses reside on the far side of that cupboard. Even standing on tip-toe my I could no longer reach them. My belly prevented me from getting close enough.

My belly became the collector of crumbs and drips. My lap was for once protected (or was it just raised?) And, for some reason unrelated to my girth, I was much more awkward with food.

Looking at Kevin I found his tummy to be small. He was now the skinny one in the family.

I hated having my sweaty stomach sitting on my sweaty thighs. I don't even like to type that. Yuck.

There was nothing about sleeping while pregnant that I will miss. I couldn't turn over without waking up and using my arms. But, that was hardly necessary at the end because I was up every 2 hours (or less) to attend to my abused bladder. And, I so missed sleeping on my back. That was the first thing I did in the hospital. I was almost surprised to find that immediately I felt "OK" on my back - something I hadn't felt for months.

Walking, particularly uphill. Won't miss how slow I became. I was always a fast walker. I feared I was changed forever. Not so.

Finally, there was the movement and the knowledge that I was possessed by another entity. Initially, it was just plain creepy. Something is inside me...and it is growing. Then came the subtle little flutters. Finally, the big sweeping movements accompanying major changes in position. When they came upon me suddenly and I was otherwise unoccupied, I'd occasionally scream.

Despite all the paragraphs above, I loved being pregnant. I was fascinated by my ever changing silhouette - even though it also embarrassed me. You can't keep being pregnant private. There is something about that growing belly that informs - even the most distant stranger. It wasn't until I was about 39 weeks along when I finally decided "yes" I need a photograph of my belly that I really, really, really appreciated my new look. Too late then to document the wondrous evolution. (You are welcome to marvel at why anyone would feel uncomfortable with sharing a much wanted pregnancy with the world. This is the nature of neurosis.)

So, I miss that firm, warm belly and despite the way it would startle me, I miss the kicks and rolls and hiccoughs within it. Still, I'm happy to trade it for Zupe.

The eyes have it...

From Zuperfliegen

July 3 - Zupe's first visit to the Gallery of Modern Art. While others might be drawn to the Dalai Lama, it is no surprise that the Zupe would prefer Salvador Dali. (Can you pick out the Zupe man? He's the one with his eyes closed!)

Define: Xenogenic

From Zuperfliegen

Xenogenic \zen-uh-JEN-ik\, adjective:

1. To be completely different from either parent, or from the source of an object's creation.
2. In biology, originating outside the organism or from a foreign substance introduced into the organism.
3. Zuperfliegen Baadasssss

The wait

From July travel - mostly OHIO

We were assigned two wait dates as we were leaving the IVF clinic. The first, a 14 day wait, to find out if Zupe had set up house. The second, a 9 month wait, to evict the poor boy from said home.

We went "home" to our friends house, stopping on the way at a craft store for something Kevin needed for his games - probably plastic bags, and then I went to bed. (About now I know you are fearful that you will be asked to read a minute by minute account of the first 9 months followed by the post birth continuum. Really. Who has the time?)

As I was saying, I went to bed since I hadn't slept well the night before and continued what would be a continual effort for many weeks to come of trying to feel pregnant. Perhaps, I felt a little weight, something solid and deep, in my lower abdomen.

We stayed in Texas a couple more days then I flew to Ohio and Kevin flew to California before flying home to Brisbane. I enjoyed my time in the long summer days of Ohio but told only my mother of our effort. (I still had the photo at that time - and I made copies - but I can't find any now.) I continued to puzzle about my body, our body. Any change could easily be a consequence of my exogenous progesterone.

On the flight from Ohio to LA I watched in-flight TV - a program telling the stories of women who didn't know they were pregnant until they were giving birth. I tried to take solace in this. I yearned for it to be an omen.

The days continued and despite my exhaustive self examination I couldn't find any indication of nausea or fatigue or substantive change. Kevin and I went for the tell-all blood test early on the morning of the 26th. I was feeling dispirited. They took my blood and I asked them to call Kevin. I didn't want to get bad news at work.

I had a break during morning appointments and checked my email.

PROJECT Z IS A GO!!!

Reply |Kevin to Ann, me

So don't be sad.

And continue taking care of yourself.

Your Love Daddy,

Kevin

The beta HCG measured 1,966. One week later it had skyrocketed to 24,051. The Brisbane clinic questioned how many embryos we had transferred.

Just one BADASS dude.

July 13 - Anniversary of the Big Defrosting!

**Place cool-o photo of Zupe the blastocyst here. It's badass, as you'd expect. It is also missing.**

This is the day, just one year ago, that we picked up Zuperfliegen from the Baby Freezer Section. He was actually the second embryo that was thawed. The first was judged to be (most likely) non-viable and so we gave the OK that morning to warm up #2. The doctor recommended that we transfer 2 embryos, but we had nixed that idea. I was not prepared to have twins. I didn't really know I was prepared to have one. The idea both delighted and worried me.

Following the recommended protocol I drank 6 gallons of water prior to arrival at the clinic. I then had a short session of acupuncture followed by a very, very, very long wait for the doctor. I could ease my anxiety by holding Kevin's hand - but that did little for my bladder.

Eventually, they wheeled me on my bed into the procedure room. (Kevin had to walk.) Dr. K confirmed that my bladder was full (and admired just how full it was. He told me it would be OK if I wanted to partially empty my bladder, but I wasn't convinced there would be any partially to that activity, so I declined.) On the monitor - which worked unlike the television in our "hospital room" - was a petri dish containing a speck. That speck would become Zupe.

We watched as the speck was aspirated into a cannula and that was then carried into the procedure room. "Watch the ultrasound and you'll see the embryo injected into the uterus".

We watched but we didn't see.

Then, we were returned to our "room". I spent the next 30 minutes or so with my legs elevated above my head (an interesting pose for using one's bed pan) while gravity did it's job of keeping Zupe "in the house", getting more acupuncture, searching for calm and trying to feel pregnant.

The wait began.

Baby Braille

In the hospital we learned to swaddle Zupe. When he'd snuffle or snort or sound like he was struggling to breath through the copious mucous that filled his respiratory track (and digestive track - but that's neither here nor there)- a side effect of missing out on the "Big Squeeze" and being born by C-section - I'd reach through the bars on my bed and over the side of his bassinet and stroke his body.

This is how and when it dawned on me that I was completely misunderstanding the anatomy I'd been palpating for the last several months. You see, a baby wrapped tightly in a blanket feels from the outside like a baby bound tightly in an abdomen. Same lumps. Same bumps.

Probably no major insight for you. But, I've been a little slow lately.

Somehow, despite having a body of my own for almost 50 years, I had forgotten about shoulders, and elbows, and knees. Especially knees.

I wish now I could go back and feel that belly again and see if I could read what it had to tell me using my new understanding - my baby braille.

The Ten Thousand Names of Zupe

From Zuperfliegen

Those of you who are here following a link from Kevin's blog will know something about our well-named son. We haven't added any more names. Promise.

For the uninformed... Zupe had multiple names prior to even knowing he was a boy - even prior to his conception...and that occurred years ago. We chose his name way back in Cleveland while driving across town one day.

James - is the name of both of our fathers - though
1. I assure you they were different men and
2. Neither was ever called James but went by his middle name (Dennis or Dan)
In addition, there is a tradition in Kevin's family of naming the first son of the first son James. Kevin's not the first son, but Zupe is the first grandson.

Steven - at the time virtually every close friend of Kevin was named Steve. (If the discussion had occurred later in our Cleveland era, he might have been Michael. Everyone we knew in Cleveland was named Michael such that we gave them all nicknames - "Officer Mike", "Nederlander Mike", etc. No, not really. Steve is too important to Kevin. No Mike could take his place.)

And, that was the entirety of his name. But, that was years ago- when given time enough, we get creative.

So, to "Zuperfliegen Baadasssss". (Haven't I dissected this for you?) Zuperfliegen is Kevin's creation - faux-German for "Superfly". Baadasssss is a direct steal from the 1971 film "Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song". In all, an homage to blaxsploitation films. It is also a salute to a longstanding joke of ours - "the silent Q".

Despite his great love of Steve, Kevin would have put Zuperfliegen on the birth certificate. I'm afraid I am the killjoy here. But, really, it is such a mouthful and any kid of ours is likely to be a bit off step with his "contemporaries". They really don't need the additional ammunition of the Zuperfliegen, let alone Baadassss, name(s). One of Kevin's Pittsburgh friends suggested "Zupe" as a nickname. I love Zupe. Zupe is too cool. Zupe is pretty much certificate worthy - but don't tell Kevin.

And, the nicknames proliferate. (Much fun for me - a person who never had a nickname, but always wanted one.) Zupester, Zupemeister, Zupenstein, Zupertastic, Z-BOB, Zed-man. Let me know if I've forgotten one of your favorites.

In the end as the big April Fools Day of Expectation approached I felt there was only one thing left to do.

I added another name.

This one did get on the birth certicate.

Victor.

Yes. I named him for my favorite dog. No one was more affectionate or honorable or loved.

Until now.