I don’t understand women who love being pregnant.   I can understand being so-so with it, or being resigned to it but loving it? Yeah, who are these people?  Overall I have pretty normal, uneventful pregnancies and for a woman of my “advanced maternal age” I’m grateful for that.  I experience the usual spectrum of uncomfortable symptoms; indigestion, a little nausea, some back aches, etc.  Usually my ailments are manageable, non-dangerous and uneventful.  That is, until now.

Last Wednesday the baby “dropped”.  I know she dropped because I had an entire day of painful contractions followed by the feeling that a little person was sitting on my rectum.  When considering the possibilities of where a child could place itself in your body the rectum is not a “happy” place.  After three or four days I began to notice that something didn’t “feel” right.  It became painful to stand, sit, walk.  I chalked this up to late pregnancy discomfort and marched on with my daily activities. By Sunday I was in P-A-I-N and discovered that my sweet little girl had given me hemorrhoids.  I’ve NEVER in my entire life had a hemorrhoid. Why? Why would God do this to me? Why?

I sheepishly divulged my discovery to David who responded by laughing for ten minutes and telling me to not be such a baby. I punished his insensitive remarks by making him go to the drugstore to buy hemorrhoid cream and NOTHING else. Thus drawing acute attention to the embarrassing product he was purchasing.  Having never experienced this particular ailment before I consulted “Dr. Google” who assured me that I would be fine in a couple of days with rest and warm baths.  Except it wasn’t getting better it was getting worse.  And every time I complained about the pain David seemed exasperated and would utter; “it is just hemorrhoids. Lots of people get them”.  I’m sure many people do have them but how do they function?

On Tuesday I woke up to the sight of a lot of blood.  I instantly wanted to do a victory lap around the house screaming to David “SEE! I WAS NOT EXAGGERATING! I WAS IN REAL PAIN AND THERE IS THE PROOF! I’M DYING!”  However, the acute pain and the ax-murder-esque scene in our bathroom was a bit distracting.  I called the doctor with the announcement that something was “WRONG” and how did I know that? Dr. Google told me.  My doctor though, being the professionally trained medical person that she is, was not worried.

What happened at the doctor’s office can only be classified in the department of both horrifying AND embarrassing.  Just when you think your children can no longer embarrass you any longer the one within your womb finds a new low to pull you down to. Both frustrated and frightened I made David come into the examining room with me.  I’m afraid he may never touch me ever again.  Of course David found this to be a great opportunity to make jokes at my expense and the doctor, sensing his jovial nature, joined in. I, on the other hand, being naked from the waist down and feeling a whole new type of physical violation just focused on not throwing up.

And this, this combination of pain, disgust, embarrassment and physical horribleness – do these women who LOOOOVVEE being pregnant never experience this? Or do they find this as a great way to get attention.  Because honestly, right now, while I type this, I have both children climbing on the couch I’m resting on whining and hitting each other.  There are more dirty dishes than clean dishes in the house.  There are more toys on the floor than on the shelves. My children are living off of goldfish crackers and juice boxes (and I can’t promise they haven’t shared the kitty food with the cat). And this is supposed to be a “magical” time in my life?  This is supposed to make me feel beautiful and wonderful and a vessel for God’s miracle of life? Because the only miracle happening in my life right now is the fact that David and I haven’t killed each other or the kids. Or possibly that the health department hasn’t condemned our house.

David promises me that some day – some day soon – I will look back on this and laugh.  Maybe I will, but right now all the laughing is happening through tears.

Well, it is that time of year when holiday letters and family Christmas notes start pouring into my mailbox.  Although I look forward to seeing the little shiny cards with news of friends far away, I can’t help but notice some disturbing grammatical problems with these letters.  I thought I would feature one of the most popular posts I have ever written; Tips to Writing a Great Holiday Newsletter.  I’ve re-posted the entire article here for your convenience.

TIPS TO WRITING A GREAT HOLIDAY NEWSLETTER (originally posted on November 28, 2008)

As we plow into the holiday season I feel a desire to provide some helpful tips when it comes to writing that Christmas letter. As an English teacher I find these little treasures to actually be time bombs of irritation awaiting me in my mailbox. This year I plan to circumvent this problem by telling you the things you absolutely should NEVER do.

#1 (and this is a biggie) DO NOT WRITE IN THIRD PERSON
Let me give you an example; “Bob is so excited at his new job and Sally is involved in the PTA this year”. Who the hell is writing the letter? The cat? Obviously somebody is writing and if it isn’t the two adults in the house than who is it? And don’t switch back and forth. For example; “I’m so proud of Bob’s new promotion this year and I know he will be happy. Sally is heavily involved in the PTA and I’m glad she has found an outlet for her creativity.” So now you are taking turns typing? Of course not. Somebody is writing this letter so decide who it is and stick with it.

#2 How To Share Good News and Not Brag
Let’s just pretend your son really did win the Nobel Peace Prize.Of course you are proud of him – any mother would be. However, you don’t want to make everybody else reading this either hate you or resent you for telling them. When sharing some piece of amazing news humble this news with some mundane thing that the person fails miserably at. For example, “We are so proud of John winning the Nobel Peace Prize this year but we sure wish he would learn how to pick up the phone and call once in awhile” or “Steve has been lucky to discover the cure for Cancer this year but too bad he can’t also cure his chronic flatulence problem”. See where I’m going with this? This is also true when talking about yourself. You might say something like, “I’ve really enjoyed feeding the homeless this year. Unfortunately my family has taken to showing up in the soup line because I’m never home long enough to feed them.” This will put your reader at ease and allow them to both respect your accomplishment and to know that you aren’t trying to compete

#3 Including Photographs
Unless the person is related or is close enough to be considered a relation a photograph of your growing child is not necessary. Truly, what am I supposed to do with these photos? Save them forever? What is the appropriate amount of time to hold on to said picture prior to disposal? 1 month? 1 year? 1 day? Don’t put that kind of guilt on me.

#4 Keep It Brief
No more than one page in a 11 point font or larger. Unless you have traveled to the moon, solved World Peace, or discovered a new country, one page is more than sufficient space. I would love to know how your family is doing but I’m not really interested in a 2008 recap that rivals a PBS documentary. This means stick to the highlights; births, deaths, graduations, new jobs/loss of job, new house/loss of house, pets, major childhood accomplishments (this can be anything from walking to rehab), divorce or marriage. If ALL of these things happened in your life in one year well – take a Prozac and then focus on the good stuff. It’s Christmas man, don’t bring me down.

I hope this helps you and guides you as you try to communicate the events of 2008 to your friends and family. Honestly, I really am looking forward to your Christmas letter so please send it soon.

Have I mentioned that I’m having a baby? Because suddenly as I enter the third trimester I’m reaching the “oh shit” moment in my pregnancy.  What having two other children teaches you is that having a baby is like inviting a nuclear bomb to explode into your life. It doesn’t get easier or smoother it just gets exponentially more challenging. So now as I stare down the barrel of this new baby’s arrival I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea. My anxiety level has reached epic proportions and outside of planning my own wedding this is the only time I can remember having panic attacks.

If you’ve never had a panic attack let me enlighten you on the feeling.  First, your heart starts racing for apparently no reason at all. Then, you feel as if you can’t breathe.  This is quickly followed by the emotional reaction of wanting to run away. On top of this I can’t sleep (which is why I’m writing this at 5 in the morning).  It would be easy to blame all of this on the baby but there is so much more to this picture. Let’s take a walk down memory lane and review how I ended up in this situation:

1.) Two weeks before this semester started in August I lost my nanny and quickly had to make the decision to put Max in preschool. This put me in the position of having had both kids home to both kids in school and with it the cascade of parties, homework, fund-raisers, etc that I never saw coming.

2.) Ten days before the beginning of class I was given a new textbook to use.  A textbook I had never seen before and would now need to write an entirely new syllabus around.  A textbook that I would later realize had little to no actual content in it and put me in a position of having to be constantly re-writing my syllabus, schedule and homework assignments.

3.) I lost the benefit of having a part-time nanny at home who could help with things like laundry and dishes. Instead I gained the additional responsibilities of homework time with the kids, and making sure uniforms were cleaned on time and packing lunches.

4.) Being pregnant I lost my ability to grade late into the evening because of my sheer physical exhaustion and so I quickly fell behind in grading.

5.) A student population this semester who seemed to need more hand-holding, more care, more time, more tutoring, etc, etc

6.) I’M HAVING A BABY!

Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, as I slide into finals week we put a bid on a new house which was accepted.  That is right, we’re moving over the holidays (well, as soon as we sell our house).  And we all know what the holidays entail; presents and cards and cookie making and an avalanche of school projects and parties for the kids.

And at night, as I collapse into bed the drama really begins. My sleep is plagued with vivid pregnancy dreams of early labor, forgetting my lecture notes or even worse, forgetting my baby.  The dreams are merely nighttime symptoms of the anxiety I feel during the day.  The dreams fade and I’m left tired and awake at 3:00 in the morning after only 5 hours of sleep.  I complain to my doctor who tells me I’m doing too much. But how do you scale back life? And it is not as if I can ask for help. I mean, it is not as if somebody can come in and do my kids’ homework assignments, or take them to the eye doctor for me, or schedule Max’s tonsillectomy or pack my house.

I’m drowning — in responsibilities, in fear, in anxiety, in excitement, in anticipation, in life.