Two months ago I had a miscarriage. Miscarriages are things people don’t talk about, though I wish they would. Perhaps if we talked about them more, we who go through them would know what to expect. Did you know, for example, that if you are over 40 and pregnant you have a 1 in 2 chance of miscarriage? And that 1/3 of all pregnancies end in miscarriage? Continue reading
Me at 7.5 months pregnant. I worked out regularly, until two days before my water broke.
It started just before midnight on Saturday January 25, 2014. I was in a state of panic, frantically searching for my cell phone while amniotic fluid poured out of my body, leaving trails across the bedroom carpet. The bed was already soaked when I sat down to text the following message to my partner: “My water just broke. Come home and drive me to the hospital.” After a few minutes, I added: “I am not joking.” “Holy crap,” he responded. “Cashing in my chips and on my way.” “Are you drunk?” I bluntly asked. “No” was his one word reply. He later told me that he was indeed a bit tipsy, enjoying his last night out as a free man. Continue reading
After years of their mothers shuttling them around, grown children suddenly hate riding in cars with their mothers.
Flicking through FM radio this morning, while driving to the gym, I hear two DJ’s talking about a Twitter survey they had just conducted. “If you had to take a long car ride with someone, who would you LEAST want it to be?” The first nine answers they received were, “My mother.” One tweeter elaborated: because she “always talks at me, instead of watching the road.”
Caravaggio, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, 1602-1602
Yesterday I received an e-mail from some antiabortion guy, asking me to have an expose of so-called “crisis pregnancy centres” removed from the internet. How flattering that he identified me as an all-powerful pro-choice goddess. Continue reading
Updated but badly lit progress report. I am down ten pounds since my last report. I felt great training today; back to my old self.
You might already know that I am a habitual and possibly obsessive list maker. I have at least three lists in my purse at any one time, as well as a master agenda for the month on my desk at home. I like to write these lists by hand as an aid to memory, but many remain in my head, constantly shuffled and reshuffled: Who is due for a dinner invitation? What provisions are currently in my kitchen? What books should I read next? What are the top five best moments of my life? Etc. Continue reading
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