One lucky baby

I post this every year.

I couldn’t be happier that I’m reunited with my birth family and finally know my birth story.

So, here we go again. . .

IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!

I was born first to Paul and Sherri, two teenagers living in Sonoma. They accidentally conceived me in a treehouse during their eighth grade year in school.

Sherri was sent to live with her aunt and uncle in San Jose to await my birth.

I was born on November 2nd. I was a forceps baby and I came out with a banged up, scratched up head (see pic below) but no worse for wear.

Alice and “Mario”, my parents, got the word that I’d been born and I’d be joining my 5 month old sister Lisa. My dad got to the hospital and looked at his itty bitty newborn daughter and declared that I looked like a frog on account of my legs stuck out sideways.

Screen Shot 2015-10-26 at 4.19.46 PMI will forever be grateful to Sherri and Paul for putting me up for adoption. I was lucky enough to meet them when I was 22 and they have been a part of my life ever since.

IMG_7821Nothing pleases me more than explaining to people how lucky I am to have two sets of parents who love and adore me.

I am one lucky baby.

Happy Birthday to me!

Gavin

I was tired and trying to sleep.

Being eight months pregnant, sleeping was difficult.

Can’t get comfortable.

Can lay on my stomach.

Need to put a pillow between my legs.

I was SUPER tired.

Nevertheless, something kept waking me up.

[HINT:  I was in labor]

I’d taken a bunch of castor oil the day before in the hopes of starting labor.

[HINT:  It did!]

So I finally got up and decided to go take a bath.

But as I stood in the tub, waiting for it to fill, a little drop of blood came out of me and dissolved into the water.

Hmmmm.

I called my doctor’s exchange and waited for a call back.

Meanwhile I began to get increasingly uncomfortable.

I decided to head straight to the hospital, without even hearing back from the doctor.

My ex-husband made me sit in a garbage bag on the ride there and it was then that I realized I was in active labor.

I remember clutching the window frame, trying to breathe through the contractions.

I got into the hospital, was put in a room and the nurse decided to check me out.

I was fully dilated.

There I was, pushing my baby out, with no doctor, only a nurse to help me.

It was crazy fast labor.

[HINT:  I was only in the hospital for 20 minutes before my son was born.]

The doctor took the stairs and managed to get to me before the baby was born.

And that is how Gavin entered this world.

One lucky baby

I post this every year.

I couldn’t be happier that I’m reunited with my birth family and finally know my birth story.

So, here we go again. . .

IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!

I was born first to Paul and Sherri, two teenagers living in Sonoma. They accidentally conceived me in a treehouse during their eighth grade year in school.

Sherri was sent to live with her aunt and uncle in San Jose to await my birth.

I was born on November 2nd. I was a forceps baby and I came out with a banged up, scratched up head (see pic below) but no worse for wear.

Alice and “Mario”, my parents, got the word that I’d been born and I’d be joining my 5 month old sister Lisa. My dad got to the hospital and looked at his itty bitty newborn daughter and declared that I looked like a frog on account of my legs stuck out sideways.

Screen Shot 2015-10-26 at 4.19.46 PMI will forever be grateful to Sherri and Paul for putting me up for adoption. I was lucky enough to meet them when I was 22 and they have been a part of my life ever since.

IMG_7821Nothing pleases me more than explaining to people how lucky I am to have two sets of parents who love and adore me.

I am one lucky baby.

Happy Birthday to me!

New Baby Smell

When I was in Sweden this year, I met a couple expecting their second baby.

They hosted The Swede and I over the New Year’s holiday.

We played Monopoly in Swedish and The Swede declared that I lost because I tapped out and sold all my properties at below cost value to his competitors.

The Swede won anyway.

And he declared me to be a cheater.

I’m sure if you asked him now he’d still say I cheated.

But I digress. . .

The other day, a picture flashed across my Facebook page of a beautiful newborn baby girl.

With the Swede.

Now, I don’t know about you but there is something very sexy about a man holding a baby.

It actually makes my ovaries shudder in the same way that my ovaries shudder when I see a fireman.

If my ovaries had a voice I’m sure they’d be screaming, “IMPREGNATE ME NOW!”

But as far as the baby goes, I can just imagine the fragrance wafting off her soft, peach fuzz head.

And just the thought makes me giddy.

There’s just something about that new baby smell that makes women want to self-impregnate so that they too can have a reliable source of it.

New baby smell = the middle aged woman’s crack.

One Lucky Baby

IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!

I was born first to Paul and Sherri, two teenagers living in Sonoma. They accidentally conceived me in a treehouse during their eighth grade year in school.

Sherri was sent to live with her aunt and uncle in San Jose to await my birth.

I was born on November 2nd. I was a forceps baby and I came out with a banged up, scratched up head (see pic below) but no worse for wear.

FullSizeRender FullSizeRender(1)Alice and “Mario”, my parents, got the word that I’d been born and I’d be joining my 5 month old sister Lisa. My dad got to the hospital and looked at his itty bitty newborn daughter and declared that I looked like a frog on account of my legs stuck out sideways.

Screen Shot 2015-10-26 at 4.19.46 PMI will forever be grateful to Sherri and Paul for putting me up for adoption. I was lucky enough to meet them when I was 22 and they have been a part of my life ever since.

IMG_7821Nothing pleases me more than explaining to people how lucky I am to have two sets of parents who love and adore me.

I am one lucky baby.

Happy Birthday to me!

I went to Burning Man and all I got was this FUCKING BABY!*

DO NOT GO TO BURNING MAN WHEN YOU ARE OVULATING AND EXPECT TO SEE ART.

No.

Instead of seeing art, you will spend an inordinate amount of time on your back trying uselessly to impregnate yourself.

I say “USELESSLY” because we all know how important it is to use condoms when one is engaging in CASUAL SEX without any other form of birth control.

I am not on birth control for one reason: it takes the THREAT OF AN 18 YEAR COMMITMENT to make me INSIST on using condoms.

I RARELY fudge it.

But fudge it I do sometimes.

Which is why I can say with a little shock and dismay. . .

. . .I’m late.

Way late.

The WHOLE reason I am writing this post is because I AM SURE THAT IF I POST IT, I WILL NOT BE PREGNANT.

It’s the whole Murphy’s Law thing and me, again.

If I write it, it won’t come to fruition.

If I don’t write it, it will.

THE LAST FUCKING THING I WANT IN THIS UNIVERSE is to be a 43 year old pregnant woman.

Or, God forbid, to have gotten pregnant at Burning Man.

I went to Burning Man and all I got was this FUCKING BABY!*

‘Nuff said.

 

*I’m DEFINITELY NOT PREGNANT.  Still no period, though. Perimenopause SUCKS the BIG ONE!

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