Galloping Cats

I only just noticed that my whole blog roll was gone and have no idea when or how that happened. But it’s back so I’m part of the community again! Sheesh.

So a friend of mine who has only one child by choice (age 3) asked the other day if I’m ready for a second. Here’s the thing that is getting me worried:

Before Gatito was born, I was expecting caring for a baby to be ridiculously, impossibly hard in ways I could not even imagine. By comparison (with my expectations? with other babies?) it was nowhere near as difficult as my expectations. This time around, in a spectacular show of neurosis, I am worried that I’m not worried enough and that, therefore the comparison with reality will necessarily be negative.

Come on, admit it: If there were some kind of competition for worrying, I would be a finalist, wouldn’t I? At least in the category of creative worrying?

Hey, I need a pseudonym for this baby. I’d like something Spanish again, but can’t think what. Suggestions (in Spanish or English) welcome!

Oh, and that reminds me. Gatito has invented his own language, called (and you’ll have to forgive me because I’m not sure on the proper spelling) Permititee Spanish. It’s kind of a cross between Spanish and English and funny rhymes and silly sounds and he is remarkably consistent in his translations. I.e., the word for “car” is always the same. Sadly, though he is a patient teacher, I am no better at learning Permititee Spanish than I am at learning to count to ten in Japanese.

Boy, it’s been quiet ’round here in the comments section lately. Not that I blame you. I’ve been reading blogs on my iPhone and haven’t been commenting much myself.

I talked to the camp director today and heard that Gatito had a great first week. He bonded with the teachers, played well with the other kids, did well at swimming. I know all indications have been that it was his school, not him, that was the problem, but I didn’t really know until I put him in another environment. So this is just a huge relief.

Dr. WCS missed my second appointment in a row yesterday. I am starting to think there is something going on in his personal life and worried that he won’t be around on the day of my c-section! There’s really only one other doctor in that office with whom I’d be comfortable having my stomach cut open, so I don’t know what to do about that. I know my options are limited if I go into labor before the scheduled date, but what if something happens day of?

Two weeks ago, I saw one of the other doctors and asked her about the anemia. She talked to me about the risks of needing a blood transfusion after the delivery and convinced me to try the iron pills. So I said fine, and I took one pill and spent the whole day burping metallic burps and feeling nauseated and once I even threw up a little in my mouth. And every day after that I would tell myself that some nausea and metallic burps are infinitely preferable to a blood transfusion and yet, never did I convince myself to take another pill.

Yesterday, I saw the head of the practice, the only other one I’d want doing the c-section. So I asked him about the anemia and he said since my levels were normal at 12 weeks (12.8), the fact that they went down by 24 weeks (10.3) was almost surely a result of dilution– simply having more fluids in my body because I am pregnant. He doesn’t think I’m anemic. “After all,” he said, “Where did the iron go? It’s not like you’re getting periods.”

Isn’t it just fascinating how every doctor has a different opinion about this crap? I’m going with his, and we’ll re-test again in two weeks, and if I have to take the iron pills at that time, at least I’ve bought myself six weeks.

Now can somebody please remind me: How long after giving birth does a reasonably but not excessively fit person regain the ability to climb a single flight of stairs without feeling like she is going to have a heart attack and die?