Are You Going to Try for a Girl?

I have five boys. Since I live in Utah, the land of many children, I rarely get judgmental questions about that number. What I do get asked is:

Are you going to try for a girl?

The assumption, of course, is that I want a female offspring. I don’t. I’ve dreaded making a girl since my own Maturation Program in school. My feelings of absolute shock and betrayal are still present, besides the knowledge that I’d have to spring that information on my own daughter someday…

“That life you’ve lived up to now, with sunshine and rainbows and happiness? Well, dearest daughter, that’s all over in a few years! Once you hit your teens; you’ve got bleeding, pain, weight gain, and hormone fluctuations. -But don’t worry, when you don’t feel like cutting your own uterus out of your midsection, you’ll be able to put on a lot of weight for 9 months and pop out something that you’ll need to care for …for 20 years, at least…”

Yeah, I’ve got issues with being a mother. But if you didn’t know that already, you probably missed the name of the blog.

Back to the point: I’m terrified of birthing a girl. In that light, one could assume I’ve never been trying for one. I think it’s obvious that I haven’t, anyway, but can see how others assume that based on my constant impregnation.

Frankly, I’m not sure why I keep getting pregnant, either.

Either, or: no, I’m not “trying for a girl.” I’m trying for a baby. If that baby comes out with his (or her!) vital body parts then we’ve succeeded. If he (or she!) is also healthy and whole then we’ve done even better.

And if s/he is an excellent sleeper, we’ve hit the jackpot.

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©2020 Chelsea Owens

Photo Credit: Picsea

Unintentional One-Armed Typing

Oh
I’m typing with one hand,
With one arm,
And half a brain.

While
I don’t know which half-brain,
I know which one arm;
Which one hand.

For
I’m typing, with one arm,
And one hand
(And some brain).

And
I’m holding, with one arm,
And one hand
And my heart.

Yes
I’m typing, holding, living
With what I’m able to;
I’m thinking, trying, loving
Giving all of me to you.

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©2020 Chelsea Owens, including photo

Time for Baby

I don’t know why
I thought to sleep
or

I don’t know why
I thought to sweep
and

I am not sure
When I will eat
or

I am not sure
When I will pee
and

I can’t think when
A movie I’ll see
or

I can’t think when
I’ll put up my feet
for

I forgot how
Much that he needs
and

I forgot how
To have a baby.

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Photo Credit: Raul Angel

©2020 Chelsea Owens

Did You Go Swimming Today? and Other Post-Delivery Fallacies

Hi, Mom.

“Hi, honey! Were you sleeping?”

No… (I was. I try to sound perkier.) What’s up?

“Oh! I’m at Wal-mart, and all their Christmas stuff’s 75% off!”

That’s great… but I’m not schlepping around yet.

“Oh… okay. I just thought you’d want to know.”

Okay. (I try to sound grateful and happy.) Thanks for telling me…

My mother’s a great person. I’m indebted to her for everything, beginning with the gift of life. However, I’ve noticed she’s not really aware of what I’m experiencing this time around the pregnancy and recovery loop. That exchange is just one example; though, to be fair, she called around 10 a.m. and not earlier. Odds are I was probably awake. She just happened to forget that I couldn’t go shopping yet since I’m STILL HEALING from a C-Section.

She’s not the only one, either.

A neighbor of mine asked if I was going to attend a Christmas choir concert about a week after I’d delivered. I responded:

No, Carol*. C-Section.

Just today, my husband took the other boys to a swimming pool with their grandparents. A friend texted, asking if I was going. As in, asking if I were swimming.

No, I can’t.

*Not supposed to?*

No, and don’t feel like it.

That’s the beauty of the C-Section recovery, I suppose: while I’m not allowed to do certain activities, I also don’t FEEL up to them. Heavy-lifting? Too tired and weak. Picking that diaper up off the ground? My sore stomach region says, “No bending.” Swimming at a pool? Can’t fit into a suit.

It’s not just me recovering, either.

“Hey, Mom!” (It’s my son that loves fun, just before going to the pool.) “D’ya want me to get the car seat?”

The baby’s not going to the pool.

“Why not? He has a suit.”

(I smile.) That won’t fit him quite yet. Also, he’s too little and would get too cold right now.

“Okay!”

Maybe by the time summer comes around, both the baby and I will be up for more. We’ll at least both fit into our swimsuits by then.

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*Name changed

Photo Credit: Lubomirkin

©2020 Chelsea Owens

I Had My Baby!

Just a little heads-up: I delivered my fifth baby boy on December 2, 2019 at 1344. He weighed 6 lbs, 4 oz and measured 19 inches long.

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He’s much smaller than he seems in the picture, but we’re a month along and doing fine.