I'm alive and I survived the cursed plague of earlier in the week...thank you God!
I saw the doctor today. Sushi is measuring way ahead in many areas and a whopping three weeks ahead in her abdomen of allplaces. She has enormous cheeks which the doctor noted is very common in oversized babies. Tomorrow I have to get a diabetes test. He suspects she might be the product of something like this. Damn, if it ain't one thing! I'm so tired of being poked and prodded. I hope I don't have to deal with something like that.
The new doctor is really nice and I simply love him (thanks to Aly for her doctor's reference). He is really patient and answers questions, taking time to explain every detail and every scenario. The one problem is his ultrasounds. They take forever. I am very uncomfortable on my back and I feel like I'll pass out, but there he is rolling around the wand across my belly, typing and discussing. I thought I'd die tonight at the appointment floundering on my back like a whale woman. That dreaded dip in the back is unsupportable lately.
I hate to think I will have to sign off but we are checking out of the hotel tomorrow and moving in to our house. Internet may take a while to set up. I hope to be blogging regularly soon but since Mexico is slow on most things, well...
I really like keeping these blogs and it's such a habit that any interruptions to it are annoying. I hope I can pop in regularly up until the birth. I'm going to have to discover the internet cafe I guess.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
All I wanted was a cheeseburger
Seb was making fun of me, "a tortilla cheeseburger? You're really going to eat all that?" "It looks really good!" I said defensively. It was one of those pregnancy cravings. I don't normally eat cheeseburgers but I was starving and it was me who had chosen the new restaurant. It was Applebees, the American chain which had just opened 5 minutes from our house.
As I lay dying on the bathroom floor at 4am I thought how ironic. It was the first time I'd chosen an American restaurant in Mexico. It was my curse--Montezuma's joke. La Tourista had hit me when I would have least expected it and hard. I ran from the bed to the bathroom every hour for 12 hours. As I held the garbage can in my lap and sat on the toilet, shivering all the while I wondered what on earth we were doing here in Mexico. The next morning my body was wracked by pain and muscle spasms. I couldn't even walk.
Seb stayed home from work and called the doctor. The baby was eerily quiet and I was scared. The doctor arrived with the hotel manager as translator and listened to the sushi's heartbeat, "she's okay" he said "just tired like her mother." I laughed to myself because I can only imagine what it must have sounded like to her from inside. At one point I was on all fours leaning over the garbage can and I could feel her shifting. I prayed, "please God don't let me go in to labor now...I could never do it."
The doctor gave me a shot in the butt, something for immediate relief and a list of medications that would do any French doctor proud. He claimed everything was safe for the baby. I asked Seb to run by my OB's office just to be sure and he said this particular brand of antibiotics is okay for pregnant or breastfeeding women. I just hate taking anything during pregnancy but I feeling like the Dawn of the Dead, or one of the Thriller corpses dancing in Michael's video so I don't think I had the choice.
The doctor said it would take nearly three days to feel normal. It's been nearly 48 hours and I'm still feeling completely exhausted. I think tomorrow will be better. I see my OB tomorrow evening and we'll hopefully get a peek at the Sushi to see how she is. I also have to tell him about the anemia. He's going to label my file hypochondriac.
I'm not sure why this trimester has been cursed by so much illness.
As I lay dying on the bathroom floor at 4am I thought how ironic. It was the first time I'd chosen an American restaurant in Mexico. It was my curse--Montezuma's joke. La Tourista had hit me when I would have least expected it and hard. I ran from the bed to the bathroom every hour for 12 hours. As I held the garbage can in my lap and sat on the toilet, shivering all the while I wondered what on earth we were doing here in Mexico. The next morning my body was wracked by pain and muscle spasms. I couldn't even walk.
Seb stayed home from work and called the doctor. The baby was eerily quiet and I was scared. The doctor arrived with the hotel manager as translator and listened to the sushi's heartbeat, "she's okay" he said "just tired like her mother." I laughed to myself because I can only imagine what it must have sounded like to her from inside. At one point I was on all fours leaning over the garbage can and I could feel her shifting. I prayed, "please God don't let me go in to labor now...I could never do it."
The doctor gave me a shot in the butt, something for immediate relief and a list of medications that would do any French doctor proud. He claimed everything was safe for the baby. I asked Seb to run by my OB's office just to be sure and he said this particular brand of antibiotics is okay for pregnant or breastfeeding women. I just hate taking anything during pregnancy but I feeling like the Dawn of the Dead, or one of the Thriller corpses dancing in Michael's video so I don't think I had the choice.
The doctor said it would take nearly three days to feel normal. It's been nearly 48 hours and I'm still feeling completely exhausted. I think tomorrow will be better. I see my OB tomorrow evening and we'll hopefully get a peek at the Sushi to see how she is. I also have to tell him about the anemia. He's going to label my file hypochondriac.
I'm not sure why this trimester has been cursed by so much illness.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Pancakes!
Well it's official. At 34 weeks 6 days I can no longer see down yonder, not even when I shift into various positions and balancing my leg up on the shower ledge (dangerous I know and only attempted out of desperation). So it's no longer possible to shave my bikini line and in one week things are bound to get out of control down there. It's not like I was doing a great job before but now it's just headed towards a huge mess. The only way to get the job done will be to stand in front of a large mirror and do it all backwards, trying to keep Little S from barrelling down the door all the while. I'll do what I have to. I refuse to suffer the indignity of being fully pelted while complete strangers discuss my hoo-ha in a languge I don't yet understand.
My belly is definitely larger than last week and definitely larger this pregnancy. I had to pull out my salopettes (overalls), something I really don't wear until the last few months of pregnancy because they make me look like a paunchy farmer. They are really comfortable though and I wore them right up to the end with Little S.
When I went to attach them the other day the straps were about one inch too short. They are complex little suckers to adjust so I know they were still in the same position as three years ago. I tugged and pulled at the fabric and then I realized that this could only mean one thing --that my belly was much bigger. At one month before due date I am much larger than I was at term with Little S. That really surprised me because I felt huge with Little S and somehow I imagined that this sweet little girl would stay small and tightly wrapped like the petit sushi she is. Nope-- she's a heffer.
Maybe it's my fault. Seb has been teasing me endlessly about my pancake addiction. Little S and I eat at 10:30 each morning at the hotel. We eat a long, leisurely brunch and no lunch. Then we eat dinner at 7pm with Seb. We eat a lot of food at brunch to make up for the lunch we will miss. I always eat two pancakes and Seb has been telling me that my pancake addiction is going to cost me 10 minutes extra labor for each pancake. For two days I stopped eating them but now I am back to eating them. I figure that if he's right I'll be in labor for about 24 hours and it should be okay because heck I've already done that.
*the photo is from last week but I can only just now post it because blogger has been giving me problems.
Friday, October 12, 2007
My mask and the dream
I hope this mask of pregnancy disappears after the birth. I don't think I mentioned having it but it's become pretty awful. I really have been staying out of the sun. My mask is not The Lone Ranger version but more of a lack of pigment on my cheeks in fairly large circles. Seb claims I had it last time I was pregnant but I don't remember. If I did I don't think it was this bad.
I had a dream last night that my water broke. It was typical dream stuff being that I was in a hot air balloon travelling to France with Seb. We had this weird sort of trap door open in the bottom of the basket so that there was no room to sit or stand. I was sitting down, knees pulled up over the hole in the basket and whoosh all this water & blood came out and fell in to the sky. I didn't get concerned at all and told Seb "we have time... don't worry." We ended up in Normandy with the in-laws and I was casual as could be walking around and talking with the family until sister in law looked at my sandals stained with blood, "You better get to the hospital!" she said screaming. This was one of the more realistic elements of the dream because sil is very bossy and always speaks to people by telling them what they should do. I very casually told her "relax geez there's plenty of time!" I had an overwhelming fear in the dream that I'd have the baby in France and get stuck living with mother in law for six weeks which is why I think I was acting like it was nothing. I think I was hoping we'd get back in the hot air balloon as soon as possible! Anyway, Seb was driving a riverboat down the middle of a French shopping mall in this dream, tearing off the ceiling tiles as he cruised because it was such a big boat. I don't think I'd take much stock in what it all means. It was just a weird pregancy dream.
I just hope my water doesn't break before the birth starts. I live in dread of walking down the street and having all this liquid in my shoes or on the carseat. My water broke at the hospital with Little S and I think they even broke it for me late in the day. It was all very neatly managed with towels and me wearing a hospital gown. Very dignified.
I had a dream last night that my water broke. It was typical dream stuff being that I was in a hot air balloon travelling to France with Seb. We had this weird sort of trap door open in the bottom of the basket so that there was no room to sit or stand. I was sitting down, knees pulled up over the hole in the basket and whoosh all this water & blood came out and fell in to the sky. I didn't get concerned at all and told Seb "we have time... don't worry." We ended up in Normandy with the in-laws and I was casual as could be walking around and talking with the family until sister in law looked at my sandals stained with blood, "You better get to the hospital!" she said screaming. This was one of the more realistic elements of the dream because sil is very bossy and always speaks to people by telling them what they should do. I very casually told her "relax geez there's plenty of time!" I had an overwhelming fear in the dream that I'd have the baby in France and get stuck living with mother in law for six weeks which is why I think I was acting like it was nothing. I think I was hoping we'd get back in the hot air balloon as soon as possible! Anyway, Seb was driving a riverboat down the middle of a French shopping mall in this dream, tearing off the ceiling tiles as he cruised because it was such a big boat. I don't think I'd take much stock in what it all means. It was just a weird pregancy dream.
I just hope my water doesn't break before the birth starts. I live in dread of walking down the street and having all this liquid in my shoes or on the carseat. My water broke at the hospital with Little S and I think they even broke it for me late in the day. It was all very neatly managed with towels and me wearing a hospital gown. Very dignified.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Apologies for the complaining
The Sushi is putting more and more pressure on my cervix and it feels like she is inches away from popping out and flopping around on the floor. I think of the six weeks that remain and just shake my head in disbelief, chuckle and say “there is absolutely no way.” This isn’t because I am so miserable I can’t handle six more weeks (I am pretty miserable) but because I think I’d have to be suspended upside-down the better part of the day to prevent her from coming before her due date. I’m guessing she’ll come in early November.
My next obgyn appointment is on the 19th of October, in ten days. I wonder if he’ll do an internal exam. I’m really curious what’s going on in there. I could be six cm dilated for all I know and it certainly feels like it. I’m not sure how it all works here in Mexico. In France at around six weeks before the due date the doctor begins weekly appointments and he usually does internal exams at those appointments. Dr. Stonehenge does internal exams about every other month leading up to the last month.
The curve in my lower back is now grossly exaggerated and my butt sticks way out--standard for the last few weeks of pregnancy. I’m no different than anyone else. It’s one of those little things you forget about in pregnancy. Naturally I have to waddle now. I walk at about half the speed as I did a month ago, longing to stop each 50 paces to rest but not wanting to draw attention to myself. I arrive everywhere breathless. Again more glamorous stuff you completely forget. It doesn’t help that we’re staying in a huge hotel and I have to walk everywhere!
Sushi ’s main characteristic so far is that she is constantly moving. She’s quite the little dancer, boxing and kicking much more than I ever remember Little S doing. She often wakes me up from a deep sleep with her late night shenanigans and then who can get back to sleep while someone is playing footsie in your loins. Sometimes it’s downright embarrassing because while standing chatting small talk with someone people will look down shocked and say “wow your baby is moving a lot!” It’s weird because it’s such a private thing Seb and I should be sharing, his hand on my stomach, not a remark to be made in the checkout line at the grocery store. It ‘s happened at least three times like this in public. Sushi isn’t shy. She seems to want to be noticed.
I am feeling better. The anemia is still plaguing me a little and probably accounts for my breathlessness and low energy. I know it takes time to get my levels elevated. My sinus infection took a miraculous turn for the better! I won’t get too far into the details but for two days I blew tons of blood from my nose. Then the third day it was all better. Thank god because there is nothing worse than that pain (well, except maybe…nevermind) and I didn’t want to have to suffer through it again without antibiotics. One less thing to worry about.
This weekend I’m going to finish my hospital supply list and start packing mine and the Sushi’s bag. I’ll post my list because someone may have something to add or may find it useful. I’m leaving no stone unturned. I’m bringing more than I’ll ever need. I got a hospital list from my Mexican doctor last visit that had me laughing. It had three things on it for the mother--robe, slippers, toiletries (duh) and about four things for the baby --two outfits, sweaters, booties, hat. I felt like getting them a copy of a French hospital list. It’s often about two pages long. When I had Little S there were even more things added on by my doctor and the midwives in my birthing class. It just kept getting longer and longer. Even with all that I had to send Seb out for things. It’s definitely a time when you want all the comforts of home and over the counter medicine at your fingertips.
My next obgyn appointment is on the 19th of October, in ten days. I wonder if he’ll do an internal exam. I’m really curious what’s going on in there. I could be six cm dilated for all I know and it certainly feels like it. I’m not sure how it all works here in Mexico. In France at around six weeks before the due date the doctor begins weekly appointments and he usually does internal exams at those appointments. Dr. Stonehenge does internal exams about every other month leading up to the last month.
The curve in my lower back is now grossly exaggerated and my butt sticks way out--standard for the last few weeks of pregnancy. I’m no different than anyone else. It’s one of those little things you forget about in pregnancy. Naturally I have to waddle now. I walk at about half the speed as I did a month ago, longing to stop each 50 paces to rest but not wanting to draw attention to myself. I arrive everywhere breathless. Again more glamorous stuff you completely forget. It doesn’t help that we’re staying in a huge hotel and I have to walk everywhere!
Sushi ’s main characteristic so far is that she is constantly moving. She’s quite the little dancer, boxing and kicking much more than I ever remember Little S doing. She often wakes me up from a deep sleep with her late night shenanigans and then who can get back to sleep while someone is playing footsie in your loins. Sometimes it’s downright embarrassing because while standing chatting small talk with someone people will look down shocked and say “wow your baby is moving a lot!” It’s weird because it’s such a private thing Seb and I should be sharing, his hand on my stomach, not a remark to be made in the checkout line at the grocery store. It ‘s happened at least three times like this in public. Sushi isn’t shy. She seems to want to be noticed.
I am feeling better. The anemia is still plaguing me a little and probably accounts for my breathlessness and low energy. I know it takes time to get my levels elevated. My sinus infection took a miraculous turn for the better! I won’t get too far into the details but for two days I blew tons of blood from my nose. Then the third day it was all better. Thank god because there is nothing worse than that pain (well, except maybe…nevermind) and I didn’t want to have to suffer through it again without antibiotics. One less thing to worry about.
This weekend I’m going to finish my hospital supply list and start packing mine and the Sushi’s bag. I’ll post my list because someone may have something to add or may find it useful. I’m leaving no stone unturned. I’m bringing more than I’ll ever need. I got a hospital list from my Mexican doctor last visit that had me laughing. It had three things on it for the mother--robe, slippers, toiletries (duh) and about four things for the baby --two outfits, sweaters, booties, hat. I felt like getting them a copy of a French hospital list. It’s often about two pages long. When I had Little S there were even more things added on by my doctor and the midwives in my birthing class. It just kept getting longer and longer. Even with all that I had to send Seb out for things. It’s definitely a time when you want all the comforts of home and over the counter medicine at your fingertips.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
33 weeks and 5 days
I'm back in Mexico with Seb and Little S and we're back to the hotel, ugh. I have such a huge desire to settle and get the baby things that I am almost crazy like a pacing animal. It must be awful for anyone homeless in this predicament. At least we may be soon settled in and I may make it to getting a few things unpacked before my due date. At least I have a good prospect on getting a bed set up and getting a few baby things washed.
I once read where two babies were born on the Mayflower's crossing. I can really sympathize with these women. Coming to a new country, not being settled, having all your things in boxes--they must have felt crazed like me. I can only say that at least they knew where their boxes of things were. I think our things are sitting on a dock in Veracruz being held captive until our papers are perfect.
I'm still feeling tired and still combatting sinus problems. I can only chew food on one side of my mouth. My face is always sore on the left side and I feel like I have a constant headache in my left eye. I need to find a family doctor who speaks English but the thought of tracking down a doctor and tusting the medicine he gives me will not harm the sushi has my head hurting worse than the sinus infection.
I'm trying to get my webcam to work so I can do a video. This new computer has a built in webcam and it doesn't work with much of anything except MSN. I am getting frustrated with it. Anyway I am large enough that people now ask "are you due this month?" and when I say "no" they are shocked. It does feel like she may fall out at any minute.
I once read where two babies were born on the Mayflower's crossing. I can really sympathize with these women. Coming to a new country, not being settled, having all your things in boxes--they must have felt crazed like me. I can only say that at least they knew where their boxes of things were. I think our things are sitting on a dock in Veracruz being held captive until our papers are perfect.
I'm still feeling tired and still combatting sinus problems. I can only chew food on one side of my mouth. My face is always sore on the left side and I feel like I have a constant headache in my left eye. I need to find a family doctor who speaks English but the thought of tracking down a doctor and tusting the medicine he gives me will not harm the sushi has my head hurting worse than the sinus infection.
I'm trying to get my webcam to work so I can do a video. This new computer has a built in webcam and it doesn't work with much of anything except MSN. I am getting frustrated with it. Anyway I am large enough that people now ask "are you due this month?" and when I say "no" they are shocked. It does feel like she may fall out at any minute.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Minding my own business...32 weeks
One more week in Florida. I 've been bored. We leave on Saturday.
My anemia is better but the crash brought back my dreaded sinus infection that my French doctor said I need antibiotics to get rid of. I've had it three times this year. I can't take antibiotics until Sushi is here and then of course I have the breastfeeding to consider so it will be quite a while before I can do that. I just have blooooooow and blooooooow and take lots of vitamins (my new friends). It will eventually die off again and then come back the moment opportunity rears it's ugly head. This is such an unhealthy trimester and I'm very fed up with this infection and being so tired.
Taking antibiotics reminds me of the fact that I can't drink for awhile either, no big deal except that we are in Mexico and one of my favorite drinks is margaritas! I've taught the hotel barman to make me a wonderful virgin faux margarita--so delicious with real lime juice and of course no alcohol. It's funny because we are in a hotel full of American tourists and businessmen, particularly the bar. Since being an expat and travelling back home with Little S I have discovered that an unfortunate thing my fellow Americans like to do is meddle and give opinions about things. I get so many "whispered judgements" from these tourists in the bar in Mexico--the 7 month pregnant lady downing her tequila, aggh. They are dying to say something. It's so funny and I can feel the eyes on me. It isn't just the prenatal drinking *gasp*. You wouldn't believe how many times people have struck up conversations with me in the last few months based on my bad parenting --my son shouldn't be eating peanuts, he's not wearing his seatbelt on the plane, he's not wearing a hat in the sun, not wearing the right sunscreen etc. It's like they are always watching mothers here, observing and waiting to dish out advice. The worst was one night in the hotel bar a very drunk Texan grandfather started warning us about the dangers of giving birth in 'dirty Mexico' (not to mention the fact that I'd being denying Sushi her American citizenship! Oh dear!!) He just wouldn't shut up. Of course as we know Sushi is going to have three nationalities but we didn't bother explaining how it all works to the guy because it seemed to really bug him that I was so misinformed and so stubborn. After all I was downing margaritas and I was going to deliver a Mexican baby!
I don't know what started that tangent. I've just been in constant culture shock lately. I'm so used to quiet mind-your-own-business Europe. It sometimes has caused me headaches in the past being in blase' France but now I think I've sort of become like that. I'd still get involved in helping people out who are in trouble** but I've come to believe that I don't think you should tell people what you think they're doing wrong if you aren't related to them. You shouldn't interfere. Even if you are a relative interfereing seems pushy to me. Mother and mother-in-law would be out of jobs if they couldn't give advice about childraising so I tolerate it with them but not so much with anyone else.*
These last few days have been calm and I sleep a lot which explains why I am so restless. I am nesting and my nest is far away. I have to put my nesting in to shopping. I've been buying birthing gear like breast pads, laxatives and witch hazel pads. I spent thirty minutes looking for a nursing bra. The cup sizes seem so much larger than in Europe. I shopped for a C cup, you know one size bigger and it looked like a D! I was wearing a D cup at the time, a French D cup and the C was like one cup size bigger than the one I was wearing. The American C had so much room it was so loose on me that the material and the lace was crumpled under my t-shirt. It looked ridiculous. So I shopped for a B cup but couldn't find anything problems because the strapping was always too small. I'm not even sure they make my size. I hate shopping for nursing bras. It's such a guessing game.
My list still isn't complete. The other things on my list are a new robe and some button down shirts for breastfeeding. I know these shirts will get ruined (breastmilk stains are hopeless) so I won't care enough to spend much on them.
Finally I want to get a bassinette for the baby. It will make me feel much better to know that I have a bed for the baby. I will have to cart it back with me on the airplane because I haven't seen any bassinettes in Mexico yet. It may not even be necessary. Little S slept in our bed for 7 months and he never even used his bassinette. It made a good storage place for folded laundry. I think it's all in my head that I need to set up a bed for her. After all I don't want to be a "bad mother" and not be prepared!
*My mom once told a woman on an airplane that her baby was crying because it was cold and needed socks. She wonders to this day why the woman was so rude to her. I told her if it was me I would have told her where to stick her sock advice.
**I got mugged in Paris and tackled to the sidewalk right in front of a little cafe where the people amazingly continued to sip their coffee while I lay there trying to regain my composure.
My anemia is better but the crash brought back my dreaded sinus infection that my French doctor said I need antibiotics to get rid of. I've had it three times this year. I can't take antibiotics until Sushi is here and then of course I have the breastfeeding to consider so it will be quite a while before I can do that. I just have blooooooow and blooooooow and take lots of vitamins (my new friends). It will eventually die off again and then come back the moment opportunity rears it's ugly head. This is such an unhealthy trimester and I'm very fed up with this infection and being so tired.
Taking antibiotics reminds me of the fact that I can't drink for awhile either, no big deal except that we are in Mexico and one of my favorite drinks is margaritas! I've taught the hotel barman to make me a wonderful virgin faux margarita--so delicious with real lime juice and of course no alcohol. It's funny because we are in a hotel full of American tourists and businessmen, particularly the bar. Since being an expat and travelling back home with Little S I have discovered that an unfortunate thing my fellow Americans like to do is meddle and give opinions about things. I get so many "whispered judgements" from these tourists in the bar in Mexico--the 7 month pregnant lady downing her tequila, aggh. They are dying to say something. It's so funny and I can feel the eyes on me. It isn't just the prenatal drinking *gasp*. You wouldn't believe how many times people have struck up conversations with me in the last few months based on my bad parenting --my son shouldn't be eating peanuts, he's not wearing his seatbelt on the plane, he's not wearing a hat in the sun, not wearing the right sunscreen etc. It's like they are always watching mothers here, observing and waiting to dish out advice. The worst was one night in the hotel bar a very drunk Texan grandfather started warning us about the dangers of giving birth in 'dirty Mexico' (not to mention the fact that I'd being denying Sushi her American citizenship! Oh dear!!) He just wouldn't shut up. Of course as we know Sushi is going to have three nationalities but we didn't bother explaining how it all works to the guy because it seemed to really bug him that I was so misinformed and so stubborn. After all I was downing margaritas and I was going to deliver a Mexican baby!
I don't know what started that tangent. I've just been in constant culture shock lately. I'm so used to quiet mind-your-own-business Europe. It sometimes has caused me headaches in the past being in blase' France but now I think I've sort of become like that. I'd still get involved in helping people out who are in trouble** but I've come to believe that I don't think you should tell people what you think they're doing wrong if you aren't related to them. You shouldn't interfere. Even if you are a relative interfereing seems pushy to me. Mother and mother-in-law would be out of jobs if they couldn't give advice about childraising so I tolerate it with them but not so much with anyone else.*
These last few days have been calm and I sleep a lot which explains why I am so restless. I am nesting and my nest is far away. I have to put my nesting in to shopping. I've been buying birthing gear like breast pads, laxatives and witch hazel pads. I spent thirty minutes looking for a nursing bra. The cup sizes seem so much larger than in Europe. I shopped for a C cup, you know one size bigger and it looked like a D! I was wearing a D cup at the time, a French D cup and the C was like one cup size bigger than the one I was wearing. The American C had so much room it was so loose on me that the material and the lace was crumpled under my t-shirt. It looked ridiculous. So I shopped for a B cup but couldn't find anything problems because the strapping was always too small. I'm not even sure they make my size. I hate shopping for nursing bras. It's such a guessing game.
My list still isn't complete. The other things on my list are a new robe and some button down shirts for breastfeeding. I know these shirts will get ruined (breastmilk stains are hopeless) so I won't care enough to spend much on them.
Finally I want to get a bassinette for the baby. It will make me feel much better to know that I have a bed for the baby. I will have to cart it back with me on the airplane because I haven't seen any bassinettes in Mexico yet. It may not even be necessary. Little S slept in our bed for 7 months and he never even used his bassinette. It made a good storage place for folded laundry. I think it's all in my head that I need to set up a bed for her. After all I don't want to be a "bad mother" and not be prepared!
*My mom once told a woman on an airplane that her baby was crying because it was cold and needed socks. She wonders to this day why the woman was so rude to her. I told her if it was me I would have told her where to stick her sock advice.
**I got mugged in Paris and tackled to the sidewalk right in front of a little cafe where the people amazingly continued to sip their coffee while I lay there trying to regain my composure.
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