Dr. Body

I found out today that my best man in Greece, Georgios, a.k.a. Dr. Body, went to a monastery in northern Greece in June to say a prayer for our fertility and to ask a blessing that we would get pregnant.  Considering that he's in Cyprus, this was an inconvenient trip for him, but he did it for us.  When I asked my wife why he had to go to that particular monastery, because surely there were ones closer, she answered that it was special to the family.

And upon hearing that we actually got pregnant, he planned a second trip to northern Greece to say another prayer to ask a blessing that we would have a safe and successful pregnancy.  We haven't seen this guy in fifteen years, since we got married, and yet he is still so invested in our lives.  He is a very sweet man with a heart of gold.

AND he takes full credit for us getting pregnant and staying pregnant.  Apparently it didn't happen until he went to the monastery, so he's convinced that it's all his doing!

Chatterbox

My wife noted that lately I have been singing more than usual, especially whenever she is around.  When she asked me why that is, I told her that I wanted the baby to be able to recognize the sound of my voice.  She told me that I talk more than any man she has ever met, so the baby should have no problem recognizing the sound of my voice, because it's all he ever hears!

While this might technically be true, I still blew a loud and wet raspberry in her general direction.  She laughed and said that I was blowing a raspberry at the baby too.  It reminded me of that scene from Nothing to Lose where Martin Lawrence takes Tim Robbins home with him, and his mother slaps Martin Lawrence when he walks in the door.  She then turns and slaps Tim Robbins, and he says, "Ow, what was that for?"  And the mother replies, "Because you was with him!"

Well, Troy got a raspberry too, because he was with her!

The Milk Boy

I saw a funny post of a conversation between a husband and wife.  The wife was pregnant, and she had texted her husband to let him know that she had found out that men can also breastfeed.  So, she wanted him to get his nipples ready, because he was going to be doing his part.

While I realize this was meant for comedic effect, my curiosity got the better of me.  Could men actually breastfeed?  I mean we do have nipples after all.  Well, technically men can in fact breastfeed.  The male breasts have milk ducts, mammary tissue, and oxytocin and prolactin - the hormones responsible for milk production.  Apparently, there have been reports of men breastfeeding during extreme situations for hundreds of years, but it requires extensive stimulation and time...and it's uncertain if the milk produced is of the same quality as that from a woman.

Regardless, I will not be lining up to offer up my nipples to our baby.  While I realize that it allows mothers to develop a bond and closeness to the baby that I won't naturally have, I think I'll find other ways to bond with the baby.  Ways that don't involve having someone chomping on my sensitive parts!

Expansion

Today, my wife was complaining that the baby was being particularly aggressive with his shifting and stretching and pushing.  She said that he felt like he had his legs stretched out as far as they could go to make more room.  And that he was shifting her organs around in an uncomfortable fashion. 

I told her that she had to see it from his perspective.  His "apartment" was getting a little cramped, so he was trying to take over the apartment next door, knock down the wall, and increase his square footage!  I mean I get stiff from sitting on the couch for too long, I can't imagine how it must feel to be squished into a yoga egg every minute of the day for nine months.

Delicate to the Touch

I know that my wife's been sad that I don't seem that interested in her anymore, because I avoid touching her.  But it's not that at all.  I'm afraid of hurting her or messing something up.  I just look at her as so delicate, and I don't want her to be uncomfortable by my selfish desire to rub her belly.  A couple of times, she has put my hand on her belly when the baby is shifting or kicking, but I'm always afraid to press too hard.  I guess I shouldn't be so concerned after seeing how hard the nurse presses on her with the sonogram machine.  But I am.  Chalk it up to my over-protective instinct...even against myself.

Stealing Our Joy

Lately, life has been stealing our joy.  This should be happy time filled with excitement and anticipation, but instead we are both depressed and stressed.  Not about the baby, but about work and family.  Neither of our jobs is fulfilling us right now.

My wife's job has had some setbacks with a boss that procrastinates her progression.  He always seems to have something else to do or someone else to help.  When he finally gets around to her, it's always rushed and last-minute.  Recently, she was trying to apply for a grant, and he waited nine months before he made it a priority.  In that time, she missed two deadlines and had to try to submit on the last possible deadline of the year.  And as life would have it, there was a clerical mistake in the grant's office, and they "forgot" to submit her grant by the due date.  That was a huge blow to my wife's psyche, and it all could have been avoided had her professor made her a priority at any time during the year.

Add to that a general lack of interest in her career progression, because he seems more content to just use her as a work horse to provide data for his grants.  He has repeatedly shot down my wife's requests for a tech to help her, so that she can be free to read papers and generate ideas.  The generic excuse is that he doesn't want to spend money on a tech, but it also feels like he wants to keep her at the bench.  Because if she breaks out of her cage, then he'll have to find someone else who can single-handedly do the work of ten people and fund all of the work for everyone else in the lab.

My job hasn't turned out the way I thought it would be.  You would think a progression up the ladder would be welcome, challenging yet rewarding.  Instead, it's just a lot of stress and drama that I could frankly do without.  I love my team, but the constant expectation that I have to personally fix every problem is grating on me.  On the other side, my boss is pushing me to think at a higher level to formulate long-term plans and goals.  I feel stretched to try to do both the granular and non-granular simultaneously.  I'm tired, and I just don't care. 

Add to that that I had a one-on-one with my boss last week, and he told me that I could no longer take extended vacations of more than a week at a time.  Why?  Because the team can't function without me and something might come up while I'm out.  Something that apparently NOBODY else can handle and that can't wait until my return.  As my wife would say, "we're not curing cancer here."  Everyone equates life or death descriptions to what we do, but honestly it's not that important.  And what am I supposed to do when the baby arrives?  Just keep working and let my wife deal with it on her own, because I can't take time off?  It's unreasonable.  I find myself contemplating looking for something else, possibly in a completely different field.  I'm not happy at all.  I enjoy precisely zero of my day.

And all of these stresses on both us are bleeding into our home life.  We can't be excited for the baby because all of our time and energy is consumed by work.  The nursery has laid in the exact same state as we left it a month ago, because I have no motivation to work on it.  I'm too depressed.  I have no idea what God's plan is, but right now, I'm not feeling it.  Something has got to change.

Kolachini

Today, my wife got a different craving, but somehow still related to donuts.  She decided today that she had to have a kolache, which in the donuting world is sausage or ham with cheese stuffed inside a roll or croissant.  It is interesting to note that traditional kolaches, as they originated in Czech society, do not contain meat.  They are only filled with fruit or cheese.  A "kolache" containing meat is actually called a klobasnik.  Klobasniky were actually created in the United States by Czech immigrants settling in Texas.  Moving on...for the purposes of this post, I will be referring to them as kolaches, but for all of my Czech readers, the different is duly noted.

So, my wife was craving a kolache; but once again, she had this craving on our drive home, so there were no shops open to get her one.  She came up with the bright idea to make them herself.  So, she got some hot dogs, bread, and cheese and made giant "pigs in a blanket."  This isn't actually a kolache, but it seemed to satisfy her.  The problem was that they came out of the oven very large and puffy.  So, she decided to "depuff" them by putting them in her panini machine and flattening them.  And just like that, she invented the kolachini!

Baby Farts

Today, my wife said she felt a gurgling, bubbly feeling in her stomach near the baby's backside.  Her first thought was that he had farted, and her imaginings of him letting out a little "pssss" left her in a fit of giggles.  I asked her why she was giggling, so she told me.  I laughed too at the thought, but ever the curious sort, I decided to see if that was actually possible.  Can babies really fart in the womb?

Well, after an exhaustive search, the short answer is 'no.'  Some people believe it's because farting involves swallowed air, which is not present in the amniotic fluid.  However, one doctor said that farting can actually occur without air, but it does require a certain bacteria that is missing in babies until they start to eat and digest food.  Those bacteria are responsible for releasing the gas as they attack the food.  Another source stated that babies butts are plugged with meconium, which is a dark green substance that forms the baby's first fecal discharge, thus preventing them from farting or pooping.  So, perhaps it's a combination of all of them.  Still, it wasn't baby farts that my wife was feeling, though I doubt that fact will keep us from laughing about them when they happen.

During my searching, I did find a funny and interesting post that talked about babies trying to fart for the first time after they were born.  Apparently, the act of farting is aided by upright posture, movement, and things that compress the tummy like squatting.  Obviously, those are all things that a newborn baby is not doing.  So, there are actually techniques that you can employ to help your baby "move the gas bubbles."  Gas to a baby, just like to us, can be very uncomfortable.  If he starts crying, pulling his legs into his belly, or has a wiggling and hard belly; then there's a good chance he has gas and can't do anything about it. 

So, what can we do to help him?  The number one remedy is to take his pudgy, little legs and move them in a bicycle kick!  Laying him on his back and moving his legs up and down toward and away from his belly in a pedaling motion.  One woman said that pressing her baby's knees to his chest was like pressing the "fart" button...and the "smile" button at the same time.  It was both a combination of the sweet relief of being rid of the gas and the inherent chuckle that we all get when we pass gas.  Apparently, babies are born with also thinking that this is funny!