How I Spent My Mid-Week Vacation
Ellie has had a rough week. She worked a standard hectic day on Monday, and then worked consecutive 12-hour days on Tuesday and Wednesday. This is on top of being sick, being pregnant with twins, and growing in size by a couple zip codes recently. Plus we visited the grandparents this past weekend, an experience that trails only hurricane evacuations in stressfulness. So she’s about as tired as a “Lost” fan waiting for some actual answers.
Then Thursday came like a beautiful gift from a reality TV show; one of the good reality TV shows too, not the kind where they make you eat steamed bull testicles. Thanks to a scheduling quirk, she had the entire day off. It was a nice day too, one of the first days in this ridiculously warm September where the high temperature never even reached 80. It was the kind of day where ten years from now she might spend it golfing, assuming that she takes up golfing some time in the next ten years. To celebrate this gift from God, or the schedule, or a reality TV show, or whoever, we naturally spent the day running around town taking care of pregnancy related details instead of doing something constructive, like napping.
At least we spent the afternoon on pregnancy errands. Ellie spent her morning off from the hospital working at the hospital. She had some clerical matters to address concerning her license. When you’re a doctor, apparently the state doesn’t just take your word and that of your employer and school your proficiency at practicing medicine in perpetuity; they insist that you complete a few hours of busy work on the computer every few years to prove your competency.
Having satisfied the state, we left for Ellie’s latest ultrasound appointment. We set Abbie down for her nap before leaving, giving the baby monitor to our neighbor in case a closet monster attacks in our absence because she shouldn’t wake up before we return. This ultrasound proceeded much like the previous one, except quicker since we already knew most of what they pointed out. The fact that a fire alarm didn’t go off like during the last ultrasound also help speed the process.
Both little guys are doing fine. One is 1lb 4oz, the other is 1 lb 6oz; both are the ideal weight for a single-birth pregnancy, which helps explain Ellie’s girth. Both are adding meat to their bones, meaning they look more like humans in facial shots, and less like aliens (or dogs if they’re using the fancy mode). They confirmed that one of them is a boy with a shot that certainly violated child pornography laws.
We left their office feeling filthy, returned home to find that the closet monster did not attack, and found Abbie still sleeping. Once she awoke I stuffed her full of applesauce and we left again as a family, this time to fill a prescription for Ellie. This wasn’t a prescription for something normal like amoxicillin or methadone; this was a prescription for special support garments, and when I say “special” I mean “expensive.” She picked up a back brace and pair of stockings specially made for pregnant women who have developed a discernable gravitational pull. These are sturdy garments meant to bear the full load of her full load, and are possibly reinforce by diamond fibers woven into the fabric that, although impractical, would help justify their price.
We bought these garments in a little specialty store, the kind you would never know existed if you never visited it. It was filled with garments and accessories designed to assist women who have medical issues like uber-pregnancies and mastectomies. They accordingly expected young children to accompany these women as they had a chest full of toys to entertain the offspring while mommy finds the right size. If the toy chest failed, they had a few backup forms of entertainment, like suckers or, if they’re desperate enough, rubber boobs. They had a very nice staff that eagerly offered Abbie the sucker when they wanted to watch a 16-month-old eat a sucker, and then helpfully offered the use of their bathroom when she drooled sucker juices all over herself. I would certainly look forward to seeing their smiling, sucker offering faces again if the need would ever arise, which it already has arisen since Ellie left her insurance card at the store. That’s the kind of forgetfulness that happens when she’s that tired.
Then Thursday came like a beautiful gift from a reality TV show; one of the good reality TV shows too, not the kind where they make you eat steamed bull testicles. Thanks to a scheduling quirk, she had the entire day off. It was a nice day too, one of the first days in this ridiculously warm September where the high temperature never even reached 80. It was the kind of day where ten years from now she might spend it golfing, assuming that she takes up golfing some time in the next ten years. To celebrate this gift from God, or the schedule, or a reality TV show, or whoever, we naturally spent the day running around town taking care of pregnancy related details instead of doing something constructive, like napping.
At least we spent the afternoon on pregnancy errands. Ellie spent her morning off from the hospital working at the hospital. She had some clerical matters to address concerning her license. When you’re a doctor, apparently the state doesn’t just take your word and that of your employer and school your proficiency at practicing medicine in perpetuity; they insist that you complete a few hours of busy work on the computer every few years to prove your competency.
Having satisfied the state, we left for Ellie’s latest ultrasound appointment. We set Abbie down for her nap before leaving, giving the baby monitor to our neighbor in case a closet monster attacks in our absence because she shouldn’t wake up before we return. This ultrasound proceeded much like the previous one, except quicker since we already knew most of what they pointed out. The fact that a fire alarm didn’t go off like during the last ultrasound also help speed the process.
Both little guys are doing fine. One is 1lb 4oz, the other is 1 lb 6oz; both are the ideal weight for a single-birth pregnancy, which helps explain Ellie’s girth. Both are adding meat to their bones, meaning they look more like humans in facial shots, and less like aliens (or dogs if they’re using the fancy mode). They confirmed that one of them is a boy with a shot that certainly violated child pornography laws.
We left their office feeling filthy, returned home to find that the closet monster did not attack, and found Abbie still sleeping. Once she awoke I stuffed her full of applesauce and we left again as a family, this time to fill a prescription for Ellie. This wasn’t a prescription for something normal like amoxicillin or methadone; this was a prescription for special support garments, and when I say “special” I mean “expensive.” She picked up a back brace and pair of stockings specially made for pregnant women who have developed a discernable gravitational pull. These are sturdy garments meant to bear the full load of her full load, and are possibly reinforce by diamond fibers woven into the fabric that, although impractical, would help justify their price.
We bought these garments in a little specialty store, the kind you would never know existed if you never visited it. It was filled with garments and accessories designed to assist women who have medical issues like uber-pregnancies and mastectomies. They accordingly expected young children to accompany these women as they had a chest full of toys to entertain the offspring while mommy finds the right size. If the toy chest failed, they had a few backup forms of entertainment, like suckers or, if they’re desperate enough, rubber boobs. They had a very nice staff that eagerly offered Abbie the sucker when they wanted to watch a 16-month-old eat a sucker, and then helpfully offered the use of their bathroom when she drooled sucker juices all over herself. I would certainly look forward to seeing their smiling, sucker offering faces again if the need would ever arise, which it already has arisen since Ellie left her insurance card at the store. That’s the kind of forgetfulness that happens when she’s that tired.
posted by Matt at
9:53 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home