Let's Compare, Shall We?

Main Entry: nocturnal emission

Function: noun: an involuntary discharge of semen during sleep often accompanied by an erotic dream -- compare WET DREAM

Merriam-Webster defines a wet dream above. Now, I don't know about you but my erotic dreams are often quite pleasurable (and totally unrealistic!) When I wake up, I've got a smile on my face and I didn't have to do a damn thing.


I got to thinking about all the hard work making Lola was. The first three months of her existence were spent on the couch of a second story apartment without air, crying and barfing. I laid as still as I possibly could so as not to make myself warmer (spontaneous combustion was a very real possibility) and so I wouldn't invoke the ire of the fickle and pissed-off parasite in me. I imagined the tiny little alien-like grouping of cells like a mighty volcano god ruling my body. Smell the wrong smell, drink an ounce more than approved or think the wrong thought, the volcano god would know and send me sprinting for the bathroom, merrily retching as I go...


The next three months were physically better, plus it had positive things such as feeling Lo move, finding out her sex, hearing the heartbeat, the blessed, beloved heartbeat! But, as the universe balanced itself out, my psychological stability weakened even as my physical condition became bearable. I say bearable because pregnancy still sucked vs. non-pregnancy. The frequent urination, the enormous tits, the kicks while I was trying to sleep and Lola's constant hiccups were still taking their toll. My head was doing it's best to get used to the idea of motherhood and failing pretty miserably.


The last three months was more half/half horrible. I couldn't sleep, I half-expected Lola (in-utero kung fu master) to kick a wee foot right through my womb and cause internal damage. The growing Lo weight was putting pressure on my hips, my back and my poor pelvis was sore. I felt like I had just set a new world record for gangbanging and all I was doing was sitting in an office chair. I did finally get comfortable with being someone's mom, but the sheer physical discomfort really helped dispel the anxiety and make me look forward to her birth. A most selfish anticipation...


1. I barfed.
2. Busted blood vessels in my face, making me look like the walking dead.
3. Didn't sleep.
4. Went off the deep end, came back again.
5. Worried, worried, what if'd, what if'd, worried s'more
6. Pored over baby books, learned what a mucus plug is, examined underwear for bloody show, shopped, washed, cleaned, agonized...
7. Got beat the fuck up from the inside by the body-snatcher
8. My nipples were bitten
9. Labor pains!
10. My vagina stretched to a whopping 10 cm, requiring my first ever stitches.

The comparison of contributions to the making of babies: The above to what men can do involuntarily while dreaming a good dream. Hmmm, imagine me, weighing my Athena-like scales of fairness... I think Lola got the right last name.

PS. This post originated from Tee's tendency to say, "My penis made her." in a smug little voice when Lo's being particularly cute. I think he forgets the tiny little nine months of hell I contributed...