Friday, June 22, 2018

Eight Months & the Nosebleed of the Century

A recent (albeit disconcerting - nose is chopped!) ultrasound photo. Looks like Sheep's got mom's lips!
Sheep is moving like crazy. This baby, whom I previously labelled a Black Belt, is now a gymnast. The advantage of having a mover is that you don't have to count kicks. It also makes for a great show when I'm sitting with nothing to do.

R has been a darling, making dinner on most nights, painting the condo, and helping me buy baby furniture second-hand. However, as wonderful as he is, his joking manner and my raging hormones are not always a good mix. On a recent evening, he asked if I was going to have my tubes tied in the hospital, after delivery.

"No, I don't think so," I answered. "I'm quite sure Sheep will be our one and only child, but I don't want to close that door too early. I can always tie them in a few years, when I'm completely sure I don't want anymore children."

"But babe," he said, "You're old."

My head whipped towards him. "WHAT????"

Just to be clear, my remark of "What" wasn't a Pardon me? or Please Explain More kind of 'what'. This was a Watch Where the Fuck You're Going With That You're About to Cross a Very Fine Line kind of 'what'. I have my reasons to have only one child: I think having two or more children is a lot of work, and costs a lot of money. I wholeheartedly believe Sheep could be a happy only child. My age isn't a reason for wanting just one kid.

My fiance R, who is only a few years younger than me, is a very sincere, unfiltered man. Which has been refreshing, but also frustrating at times when tact is called for. Apparently he didn't see the Tact Angel waving at him frantically from the sidelines, as he plunged towards a very ugly pileup. "Well, you're FORTY. I mean, you're probably too old now to have anymore kids....right?"

I yelled, "I'm not that old! I'm only a few years older than you and I could have more kids if I wanted to! It's totally possible!" Then my face fell. "You consider me old??? Am I....unattractive to you?"

R started to backpedal. "NO! I love you! You're totally hot. You're HOT! You don't look your age, even though you're forty....but that's not the point, the point is I love you, and you're a babe, and I'm still totally attracted to you...Hey, what's wrong?"

My head was hanging down, and tears welled up in my eyes. Suddenly, I made choking sounds, which quickly escalated into full-out bawling. Like a baby.

R seemed afraid. "Hey, no, I didn't mean it....Wait, is this a pregnancy cry?"

My wailing got louder. R shuttled me into the bedroom, where the window was closed and hopefully neighbours wouldn't hear me. I couldn't stop my bawling, as much as I tried. It all came out, in a painfully ugly cry. I held my hands to my face to hide.

R said, "Babe, please don't cry. I'm sorry."

After a while, I pulled my hands down to try to breathe calmly. That's when I saw rivers of blood running down my palms. Turns out I was having a massive nosebleed. I hadn't had one in years and didn't remember what to do. R instructed me to pinch my nostrils and gave me a rag to staunch the flow of blood. Nosebleeds in pregnancy are common, but I hadn't had one until the night my fiance decided to touch upon a sensitive topic and made me cry so hard, the blood vessels in my nose burst.

R felt very badly about the whole thing. He said sorry many times, reassured me that he was attracted to me, and said kind words on the phone the next day during his lunch break. I forgave him pretty quickly, and hopefully he's learned to employ a little more tact next time.