With apologies to Dr. Seuss

Suzanne-I-am!

Suzanne-I-am!
I can breastfeed, yes I can!

Would you breastfeed here or there?
Would you breastfeed anywhere?

I could I would here or there,
I will breastfeed anywhere.

Would you could you in the park?
Would you could you after dark?

I can breastfeed at the park,
During the day or after dark.

I can breastfeed on a boat
I can breastfeed while we float.

I can breastfeed on the floor
Stand right up and feed some more.

I can breastfeed in a car
I can breastfeed near or far.

I can breastfeed while I sleep
Never waking to count sheep.

I can breastfeed while I eat,
I can breastfeed while I tweet.

In the park, after dark!
On a boat, while we float!
On the floor, then some more!
In the car, near or far!
While I sleep, counting sheep!
When I eat, when I tweet!

I think breastfeeding’s pretty neat!

Suzanne-I-am!
Suzanne-I-am!
I will breastfeed while I can,
To do the best for my little man,
For at least a year, that is my plan.

Why did no one tell me that babies were portable? I was totally prepared for the months of self-imposed isolation, the trapped-in-the-house feelings new mothers get, and missing out on all the fun things I used to do before I had a tiny being to keep alive 24 hours a day. I told myself “Look, you’ve had some good times. Lots of good times. Now you will just look back at those times longingly and repeat over and over how rewarding being a mother is and lie lie lie when people ask if you ever miss going to the movies or out to dinner or hanging out with friends.”

But instead of being trapped with my baby, my baby is trapped with me. He has to go where I take him. He’s trapped at sushi restaurants, on a boat, at my mom’s group. He’s stuck going to vineyards and tourist attractions and Mystic Pizza. We dragged him along to the casino, the mall, the lake. We go together (like a ramma lamma lamma…).

Surprisingly, this works out rather well. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before but Baby Evan is a pretty cute baby.  When I take him places he manages to charm almost everyone into acceptance. I’ve never had anyone say “Oh you brought your…baby.” (Maybe if I went to a bar?) I’ve gotten so used to wearing him in the sling that at a wine tasting this week when people were looking at me and pointing my first thought was “Is there something on my face?” instead of “Wearing a baby is still sort of novel and causes attention”. But once they get over their surprise I get nothing but positive feedback. That baby store where I bought the sling should be paying me a commission for the number of times I’ve referred people to them as The Place for all your baby-wearing needs. I’ve never had to leave a restaurant because he was fussing or crying – he’s very easily distracted by a little knee bouncing or giving him a new perspective on a room. He’s actually much grumpier and hard to please on the days we DON’T go anywhere and he has to stare at me and the ceiling fan all day.

I think we’re just at that magical age where he can be awake and alert and entertained but is still trapped by his own immobility. He doesn’t mind be carried everywhere because he has no other choice. This is not going to last forever – I doubt it even lasts another couple of months – so I am going to enjoy it while I can and keep on being That Woman With The Baby…so I don’t become That Woman Who No One Even Knew Lived In That House Because We Never Saw Her Until They Brought Her Out Strapped To  Gurney And Carted Her Off To The Asylum.

***Now I know you’re secretly thinking to yourself “She only thinks no one minds! God I hate oblivious parents who bring their baby to totally inappropriate places! I bet that kid is a spoiled little nightmare.” I’m not so oblivious to think that everyone loves my baby all the time or that just because no one’s told me to get lost they all think I’m awesome. I’m sure people disapprove. There’s even a chance I ruined someone’s dinner by using baby talk through their whole meal and maybe saying the word “poopies”. Considering the absolute fanciest, most crowded place I’ve taken the baby so far is Chile’s, I think I can safely tell those people to go screw themselves.

Someone’s head is getting too big for his hat.

Let’s hope the zombies don’t get him for his huge, delicious brains.

I’M NOT PREGNANT. I finally reached my I Absolutely Must Know point when my previously sleeping-through-the-night baby turned into a pooping, wiggling, screeching baby who got me up at 2 am to change his disgusting diaper…only to fill it again the second I lay him back down. TWICE. The thought of having two of these monsters was just too much. Thank God for fancy digital pregnancy tests. I was so bleary and tired at that point interpreting pink lines would have been as impossible as interpreting Sanskrit. NOT PREGNANT.

On the down side, I guess this means I’ve just been feeling fat and crappy because I’m fat and crappy.

Yesterday at my dentist’s appointment my hygienist told me I was due for some x-rays. I was actually due at the LAST checkup but since I was eight months pregnant they had to hold off. So after a bunch of chatting about the baby and her new landscaping she took me upstairs and stuck me in the lead vest. Just before she pushed the button to start she laughed and said “Oh I guess I should ask if there’s a chance you might be pregnant.” I was all “HA HA HA HA wouldn’t that be funny? And by funny I mean awful?” I assured her my baby-making factory was still closed down and she could safely shoot me full of radiation.

But when I got home, I Googled “is it safe to get an x-ray while I’m pregnant?”* Because…what if I am? I mean, I’m totally NOT. No way. I’m on birth control. And exclusively breastfeeding. And that thing you have to do to get pregnant? It doesn’t get done very often. But I’m not great at remembering to take my pill. And the baby isn’t nursing every 2 hours any more. And the thing did get done. Suddenly I miss my period. It’s absence no longer feels like a blessing, but rather a huge hole in my certainty that Baby Evan will be an only child a little while longer.

It doesn’t help that E’s brother and his wife are visiting and she said “Hey remember how the last time I was here you were all ‘I think I might be pregnant but the test came back negative I’m so confused – let’s get some martinis!!!’ and then it turned out you totally were! And now you have a baby!” Then my brother-in-law was all “Wanna hear about how I was an accident? I’m only 14 months younger than my sister!” I didn’t really hear any more after that, as I was too busy throwing myself out the window at the thought of babies 14 months apart.

I supposed the only way to ease my mind would be to take that lone remaining pregnancy test in my medicine cabinet. But when it comes back negative I’m going to feel a fool for acting like a 16-year old about this. OH EM GEE am i preggerz?!!?!? 4 real! maybeeeeeee lol! Ugh that hurt my head. My fear is extra ridiculous because we always planned to have more kids. Baby Evan is such a social little baby it I don’t think it would be fair to him to grow up an only child, especially as a military kid where you have to leave your friends behind every couple of years. Plus being pregnant means I’ve still got 9 months before I have two kids. It’s not like the stork’s going to drop a newborn on my doorstep tomorrow – and if it tried I’d shoot the damn bird right out of the sky.

If I am pregnant, expect this post to disappear. My (imaginary) kid is already doomed to enough therapy without reading about how he was a mistake on the internet. Plenty of time to share that info when he’s a teenager.**

*Good news, x-rays aren’t that bad. E is actually more radioactive than a dental x-ray and this first one came out with the right number of limbs.

**My imaginary baby is a boy, although I really wanted a girl. Oh look another reason to delete this!