pregnancy

Viva la Vasectomy (or Birth Control and all his friends)

September 28, 2009

Let’s talk about birth control. These days I’m like a pendulum, baby-crazy one moment and baby-scaring-the crap-out-of-me the next. When the kids are angels, I think “hey, this is a piece of cake, I can easily handle 6 or 7” but five minutes later I’ll be all like “this is insane and these babies are going to have me for breakfast”. I personally blame the postpartum hormones.

In my saner moments, I think we’re going to hold out on Operation Populate The World and take some drastic measures on the birth control before I get suckered in by the googly eyes and baby smell.

But first let me preface this by saying that BIRTH CONTROL SUCKS. Like every single method invented by man sucks. It’s either useless or ouchie or ewww. It’s like a huge conspiracy so that mankind does not become extinct. I know I sound like a sex-crazed 14-year-old but the truth is, unprotected sex rocks big time. And there’s that element of surprise like am I gonna get preggers this time. What about this time? Or this time?

I’ve done extensive research on Wikipedia, the most *reliable* source of information and here is an exhaustive list of all the contraceptives known to man and why they suck so bad.

1. Condoms.

Hailed as the most popular method, it boasts an effectiveness level of 99% when used correctly (that means you have to actually “put it on” as the Spice Girls would say). Here’s the problem. It’s made from latex and disgustingly oily. The first time I touched it, I actually squirmed and flung it against the wall. I bet that’s what lizard skin feels like. Oh gros, just thinking about it gives me shingles. Needless to say, it’s not going anywhere near my thing, which of course, the husband is enthusiastically supportive of.

2. Female condom.

This is like a woman’s worst nightmare. It’s got all the same problems as the male version, except worse because it’s gotta be inserted *deep* before the sexytime and there’s a pouch that hangs out the whole time. Also, it’s possibly LESS effective. WHY then would anyone want to do this?

3. Cervical barriers (i.e. contraceptive sponge, cervical cap, diaphragm)

You’d think it can’t get worse, but it can. All of these methods work the same way, which is to block out the sperm from reaching the uterus. But the way to do it is to literally put something in the way to block it. In other words, you gotta stuff it in way in advance and there’s no guarantee that you’re doing it right.

Besides, let’s not forget the pain involved here. During Kirsten’s delivery, the cervix check was the most terrifying thing I had to endure. I almost sucker-punched the nurse who jabbed me repeatedly like as if she was making pumpkin pie. I still have a voodoo doll of her which I stick needles in from time to time. Bottom line, I’m not putting anything inside.

4. Hormonal methods (the Pill/Patch)

In my opinion, the best option. Non-invasive and so convenient. Just pop a pill every morning or walk around with a cute little sticker on my ass. I went on the pill during the honeymoon and at first, I was one happy camper. All the unprotected sex and all I had to do was take a tiny little pill.

2 days in, I started getting the worst bout of nausea ever. I felt so sick i was totally in no mood for any whoopee, so that kinda became a little counterproductive. According to the gynae, it’s caused by the hormones and it’s one of the common side effects for the pill. Long story short, my body doesn’t like its hormones to be messed with, so I’m back to square one.

5. IUD (Intrauterine devices)

The awesome thing is that it can last for 5 to 10 years so it’s practically like nonexistent. You get it fitted by a doctor once and that’s it for the next 10 years. Sounds awesome. Until I saw a picture of the device that I’m going to be carrying around for a whole decade.

I'm NOT putting an ice pick into my uterus
I’m NOT putting an ice pick into my uterus

It looks like an ice pick, you know the thing they used to kill Trotsky and perform lobotomies. I’m not carrying that thing around, alright. Who know what damage it’s going to do to my uterus.

6. Withdrawal

After our failed experience with the pill, our next contraceptive method was withdrawal. Either we’re too fertile and our combined powers are too much for this method to be effective or we were doing it wrong. Either way, Truett is a testament to the (non)effectiveness of coitus interruptus. Look how well that worked out for us.

7. Ligation

Seeing that I’ve already been through a major surgery and an almost surgery (the gynae had to episiotomize me ok), it’s only fair that I shouldn’t have to go under the knife a third time in 2 years. Which leaves only 1 more option.

8. Vasectomy

Never mind that it makes grown men go weak in the knees. I think it’s a male instinct not to let anything even go near their testicles. But what can I say? A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. When all else fails, he’s gotta step up and take one for the team, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I hear it’s reversible, so there’s nothing to worry about.

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motherhood

The Perfect Mother

September 25, 2009

After 16 months at this motherhood thing, I’m beginning to realize there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. It exists in the realm of fairies and flying unicorns – that is, a nice notion but pretty much codswollop.

At first, I wanted to do it all. Be the perfect mom and even look the part. After day 1, I gave up on the looking bit, and I’m content to get through the day without once looking in the mirror because it was too depressing to face the crazy hair. But I still tried to get the rest of the mom stuff right. Most days, I would beat myself up trying to cook the meals, do the laundry, clean the house, sing the nursery rhymes, think of new activities to entertain the kids and make sure they’re relatively clean. It was like a never-ending cycle of things to be done.

These are the things they don’t teach you in school and what I managed to pick up from other moms are all the taboos like what not to do (most of which I’ve committed anyway). Like you can’t have dirt on the floor – what if your kid EATS THE DIRT? Or you can’t let your kid eat processed snacks or don’t let your baby cry.

All of which are good advice, no doubt, but I’ve come to realize that being a mom requires choosing your battles and letting go of the things that are of the least consequence. It’s called prioritizing.

So on any given day, I’ve got a thousand urgent things to do, like wash the mountain of clothes that threatens to fill up my kitchen and do the dishes and vacuum the floor, but in my list of mothering priorities, those are way down the list. Which is not to say that my kids live in a slum (I make the husband do the housework in the evenings) but given a choice between sweating the small stuff like cleanliness or playing with the kids, I pick the playing every time.

Sometimes I get surprise visitors and they get a shock because they think I was just robbed, but I’m totally cool with it.

madness
Please don’t rob me

Honestly, I would do it the same way all over again if I had the choice because Tru is absolutely delighted when I wheel him around the house in his little car for hours everyday or when I take him to the park. I could probably multitask but kids know when you’re distracted and Tru starts shouting and grabbing my face if he notices that I’m not paying undivided attention to the blocks he’s building.

Baby girl isn’t into the activities much but she loves being on my lap and listening to my Mother Goose rendition. So I guess what I’m trying to say is when you become a mother, your priorities become very different and you learn to live with things you never thought you would. Because when you end your day, you don’t think about how many dishes you washed but how your kid’s face lit up when you sat down beside them and sang silly songs.

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pregnancy

So, this is how the Hulk *really* came about

September 24, 2009

So this morning I was up to express my milk as usual and I couldn’t believe my eyes because it was distinctly green. GREEN! I heard of whitish, yellowish, and even pinkish (tinged with blood – not a good sign) milk, but green, that’s a first.

green milk

green milk

It looked like radioactive milk or something that came out from the Swamp Thing or Frankenstein (actually it’s his monster who doesn’t have a name but since Frankenstein does sound pretty menacing, most people think it’s one and the same). Usually, my milk is whitish and watery in the morning and kinda pale yellowish and thicker in the afternoon, but this green milk, it was really thick, like cream cheese.

I didn’t know if it was going to make baby girl throw up or have the runs, so I checked out trusty google for some advice. There were plenty of articles on how breastmilk is green but it was all about the environment like “green peace”, which was cool and all but not very helpful to me right now. I mean, I’m glad to be doing my bit for the earth, but WHAT ABOUT MY GREEN COLORED MILK?

Turns out, breastmilk is so awesome that it can change color from time to time, depending on your diet. Apparently seaweed, supplements and green Gatorade can cause your milk to turn green (way cool, except that I’ve been pretty much eating the same thing for the past 2 months so I’m still stumped). Although the general consensus is that the color of breastmilk is nothing to worry about.

Some folks have even reported expressing blue, purple, grey, pink and green milk and apparently, it’s all A-OK. Or these people could be totally messing with me and I should book an appointment with my lactation consultant pronto.

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