yet another reason why i'm probably not in the running for miss congeniality

SCENE: AN EXAMINATION ROOM. NICE NEW DOCTOR IS TAKING NIOBE'S MEDICAL HISTORY

Nice New Doctor: So, have you had any hospitalizations or surgeries?

Niobe: Let's see. Well, in 1989 . . . blah blah blah (lists hospitalizations and surgeries). And, um, in October 2006, I had a c-section.

Nice New Doctor: October 2006! That's when my daughter was born! You know, I've just recently come back to work. I'm only here part time, but it's been quite an adjustment for both of us. Luckily, we managed to find a daycare that we're very happy with. Do you work outside the home?

Niobe: (resisting urge to say: well, if you'd seen how my kitchen looked this morning you'd realize that I certainly don't do much work inside the home) Yes, I do.

Nice New Doctor: And who takes care of your baby while you're at work?

Niobe: Oh, I don't have a baby. Was it hard for you to arrange a part-time schedule?

FADE TO BLACK

stars and stripes

My office is next to the harbor and the channel is always filled with boats: sailboats and motorboats, catamarans and ferries, tugboats and container ships. As the weather gets warmer, there's often a three-masted schooner floating by the dock. Yesterday morning, I stood on the walkway, and, looking down, saw a shoal of medusas -- jellyfish round and pale as dinner plates, blooming like ghostly flowers. Their transparence is hard to capture, but you can see one of them in the top picture. The reds and whites are fractured reflections of an American flag.

I promised myself I wouldn't say anything about the meet-up last weekend. But if you're feeling extra inquisitive and want all the details, take a look here, here, here, here, here (scroll down for post), here, or here.

Have you met other bloggers? Are there any that you'd really, really like to meet?

silent days

I was talking to someone who's eight weeks pregnant and she started one of her sentences with "After the baby's born..." I nodded and smiled and cobbled together some appropriate sequence of words, but what I was really thinking was: at least that's something I don't have to worry about.

Once something has gone terribly wrong, it's impossible to believe that something else won't go terribly wrong. I imagine the missing heartbeat at 10 weeks, the miscarriage at 14 weeks, the fatal genetic diagnosis at 19 weeks, the premature labor at 23 weeks, the cord accident at 34 weeks, the inexplicable stillbirth at 41 weeks. What I can't imagine is that there will be an actual baby -- one that lives more than a few hours or days -- at the end of all of this.

With my last pregnancy, I waited until the end of the first trimester to tell people. But this time, there doesn't seem any point at which it would be safe or right to say anything. I'm sure I can cope with whatever disaster the universe has in store for me. What I really don't want is to have to endure the well-meant words of sympathy and attempts at comfort that people will feel obliged to offer when the worst happens.

It's perfectly reasonable not to tell anyone about this pregnancy, isn't it?

cognitive bias

I'm home and shuffling my thoughts like a deck of marked cards. I have a new post up at Glow in the Woods if you'd like to see what's on my mind these days.

later

I'm frantically trying to finish packing for my road trip to meet up with a few other bloggers. And, having learned my lesson, on this flight, I'm not checking anything.

I'm not sure what the wifi situation is there, but I'll check in when I can. Meanwhile, I'll be pondering this question: what did I spend all my time doing in those dark days before the internet was invented?

the weeds under the porch

Somewhere -- most likely in the little store of useless and expensive things across the street from the Japanese bakery -- I noticed a card printed with the inspirational phrase above.

Except I misread it as: Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about cheating yourself. Which, honestly, made a lot more sense to me.

Yeah, I'm feeling kinda bitter today. What one word best describes your mood?

can't explain

The first ultrasound was today and everything looks fine. Which, for some reason, instead of making me feel better, makes me feel exponentially worse.

collateral damage

I have a Mother's Day post up at Glow in the Woods. Please stop by and read it and, if you like, add your own thoughts about this day, which has become, at best, bittersweet for so many of us.

couture

And, no, the airline still hasn't found my stuff -- I just downloaded a few of my pictures before I left Paris.


and (whispering) the second beta was fine and the first ultrasound is next week and I'm doing a surprisingly good job of not thinking about all the different ways this could go wrong

please leave a message after the tone

Niobe dials friend's phone number. Phone rings. Niobe hears the following:

Recorded voice: You know, you pick the worst times to call. We are in the middle of holding up a bank right now, I got my mask on, I can barely talk, the police is outside. All I can say is that this better be very important. And it better be involving some money.

Niobe hangs up without leaving a message.

Now, given my cultural illiteracy, this may well be some reference that I'm just not getting. In any case, I'm pretty sure it wasn't this woman, because it looks like she's already been caught and sentenced to twelve years in prison. (but not before she spent $2000 of her bank robbery proceeds on a chihuahua puppy that she named Capone).

What’s the strangest or most annoying recorded phone greeting you’ve ever heard?