During her “Jersey Shore” days, Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi made headlines for drunken debauchery. Today, the mom of one-almost-two has people talking again. This time, for using an expectant mom parking spot at Babies ‘R Us.
Snooki is pregnant, but she’s not pregnant “enough,” according to detractors who got all badooglafied after the former reality star posted a photo of herself on Instagram pulling into the special spot.
They argue she plasters the media — social and traditional — with talk of her healthy lifestyle, and shares photos of herself lifting tires like she’s a member of CrossFit. That, they say, means she doesn’t “need” a special space. Continue reading
“Turn away,” said the ultrasound tech. “It has its hand on its gender.”
We were at my 20-week scan, a two-hour appointment where they looked at everything from the valves on the heart to the length of the pinky fingers and thigh bone.
This was also the appointment where we could learn the gender. We’d known since the day the little plus sign appeared on the stick we weren’t going to find out if we were having a boy or a girl. I’d made that clear to the tech before she squirted the gel on my abdomen.
Now she’d ruined the surprise. Continue reading
R and I decided not to find out if we were having a boy or a girl. This approach was a surprise to friends, family, colleagues and readers who know I’m so type A I practically plan a bowel movement.
We’d never discussed which side of the baby gate we fell on that one, but it turned out we both wanted to wait.
And it was awesome — the most sensational surprise of my life. But that’s not the only reason to wait.
For several months, I slept down the hall. The bed was firmer, and more comfortable, and I could have a restful night’s sleep without R rolling around next to me.
This separate sleeping lasted about three months — and I was pregnant and needed space to … marinate. Many couples sleep that way regularly and they swear it’s better for their marriage.
The alone time allows them to catch up on sleep and focus on hobbies — reading, playing the guitar, watching TV — the other isn’t into, says one Oregon couple in a story on this morning’s GMA.
One marriage and family therapist estimates more than half — yup, more than 50 percent — of couples have separate sleeping quarters.
Right after C was born I was back in our room, and probably won’t leave again till life — again surgery, pregnancy, sickness — necessitates.
Having a baby changed so much, including how I view many people in my life. I have a greater appreciation, and understanding, for those close to me (and a certain profession).
Nurses: Specifically, Emily Ilowit at St. Peters’ labor and delivery unit. She was, in a word, amazing. As my sister (who was in the delivery room) said “whatever they pay doctors, nurses should make four times as much.”
She’s right. Continue reading
I always hated when, as a kid, my mom would lick her thumb and wipe my face.
“Ew, that is so gross,” I’d cry, while swatting her hand away. “I’ll never do that to my kids.”
Unfortunately, it took all of a week for me to do just that, and plenty of other “nevers,” such as: Continue reading
As R trekked to the car with
the loot we’d plucked from the hospital my bags, I got dressed.
Despite heavy, labor-inducing pitocin that had my legs looking a bit like Gwenyth Paltrow’s character in “Shallow Hal,” my jeans buttoned.
Take that doctor-who-suggested-I-was-gaining-too-quick-during-pregnancy.
Or not. Continue reading
There’s that expression “if you can dream it, you can do it.” Thing is, I regularly “dream” I’m giving birth, and yet I haven’t been able to “do” it. In each scenario, the process is painless, quick and simple (and that is why they’re called “dreams”).
Because I’m overdue, and likely on my way to being induced, last night I imagined we were going to the hospital — and I had a coupon code for an induction.
A coupon code?! Continue reading
That negative “1” is about to become a “2.”
“When were you due?”
“How long will you go till you’re induced?”
“I bet you’re tired of being pregnant?”
As I write this, I’m approaching the “two weeks overdue” mark. Most every woman I know says the last month is horrible, and you’re just “done.”
For me, the last month was probably the best.
I went for seven straight days without throwing up (something that hasn’t really happened since March). I haven’t been tired. Nothing really “hurts” (other than the intermittent and rare bought of Braxton Hicks) and I can (finally) see a commercial featuring poultry and not gag. My only complaint would be I wake every 30 to 90 minutes to go to the bathroom — all.night.long. But, hey, as one of my OB/GYNs said: I’ll be one of the rare women who may just sleep more with a newborn, rather than less. Continue reading