Or is it possibly good girls that get babies in their stockings?
A little known fact: If Jesus's birthday WAS actually on December 25, the Immaculate Conception would have occurred on April Fool's Day--ask me how I know.
Another little known fact: When sperm sober up--they are quite powerful.
So that's basically the story.
Pickled sperm don't know how to swim. And that my friends is how I imagine we were able to play with fire for nearly two years and not get burned.
And if you do the math, right around April 1st-ish is when we were back in the Trust Tree enough to knock boots, and well yeah.
So without further adieu I would like to introduce our little Christmas boy--
Not sure what his blog name will be yet. But there he is.
He was ripped from my loins on December 19, 2008 at 9:35 a.m.
Say what you will about scheduled c-sections, but seeing as Chunky was also ripped from my loins (after 13 hours of labor...oog), and the fact my doctor is a sole-practitioner and won't be around this week and I was due December 25, I'm not upset about it at all. There were other factors in play as well, but I won't bore you with the details.
He was a tiny little fellow--only 6 lbs. 10 ozs, but like his big brother--he's tall--20". Chunky was 7 lbs. 14 oz. and 22" but was born two weeks later than Jersey Boy (hmmm...maybe?).
I won't regale you too much with the birth story other than to say, it didn't go exactly as planned.
I was scheduled to be at the hospital at 7:00 a.m. to be prepped for a 9:00 a.m. c-section.
Dr. Mad Scientist was to drive me to the hospital (with Chunky in tow), drop me off, then drive Chunky to school, and then drive baaack to the hospital to attend the c-section.
Welllllll.....mother nature had other plans.
Due to the impending snow storm (that actually happened--or I would have been very pissed!) Chunky had school cancelled.
We figured he'd just have to wait in the waiting room by himself.
He wasn't even allowed in the maternity waiting room accompanied BY Dr. Mad Scientist. So the poor boys were kicked out of the maternity ward made to wait on like the first floor of the hospital (I was on the 4th floor) waiting room.
Thankfully my doctor ran into Dr. Mad Scientist when he snuck up at 9:00 a.m. to get a status report on me as she was going to scrub up and she knew who he was.
The nurses were very cool in that when they finally ripped new baby boy from my loins, they made sure (when they finally found him on the first floor) that Dr. Mad Scientist and Chunky got to see him and they even snuck Chunky back to the door of the post-op where he was able to wave to me as I was in recovery. Hee hee!
So, sadly Dr. Mad Scientist couldn't be there for the actual removal of the kiddo.
It's funny because I was upset that he couldn't be there for himself, and he was upset he couldn't be there for me.
But it makes for a good story. And for the record, Chunky was amazing in the waiting room for five hours. Didn't whine a bit. I think it helped that they took snowball breaks and would go outside to check out the dumpage that we got.
Ok, and the reason I didn't blog about it?
Well, as amazing as the Little Monkey (hmmm?) is, there's just something that kinda turns me off about mommy-knit blogs.
No. I'm not talking about any of the blogs I read that lean to the mommy-knit.
And I know I do my share of Chunky-centric posts, but there are a handful of those big-name knit bloggers that pop out a baby and BOOM! The only knitting you see on there is baby shit--if at all. (Oh and for the record, that baby sweater from last week--that's truly for Chunky's teacher. The only baby knit I've lied about on here was the Baby Tulips sweater from Koigu. Please! Like I'd waste good yarn like that on my brother in law's baby! Ha ha! That's for my offspring alone!)
I'm also very sensitive to allll those bloggers out there that I read that struggle with their own attempts to have kids. Be it they can't conceive, they lose their babies early or late, they go thru hellish fertility treatments, or massive paper chase trials in adoption.
It just seemed kinda insensitive to post about the trials and tribulations about pregnancy when there are so many people that would kill to be in your swollen duck-feet shoes.
That's not to say that I won't be posting the occasional baby-post, but I promise it won't be baby pictures all the effin' time.
Cookies on the other hand...
Labels: Family, Holidays