This is my third attempt at writing this post. I can't find the photo of Jittery Joe in the purple velvet, and he wont do a re-enactment for me. Rest assured that when I DO find it, I will pop it up in the photo blawg.

So. Don't read this if you are squeamish. I talk about periods. And placentas. Placenta placenta Placenta! If you got through that without wincing, please feel free to proceed.

It's February of '98. I am six weeks pregnant, though I would not find this out for another eight weeks. In preparation of our second Valentines together - back during a time when he still remembered it - I bought a dress. It was beautiful. Velvet. Purple. Strapless. I had my very first strapless bra to go with it and the tiny-est black thong I could find. It was going to be an awesome night of fine dining - on a budget, and hot hot sex for dessert.

Then my Ex- Boyfriend, Ty, called saying his mom was in a bind and would we be willing to come down and help them run the dog sled races during the Valentines weekend. How could we say no? The dress went to the back of the closet. I eventually did wear it. To coffee.

Saturday the fourteenth found us knee deep in snow, watching the races, with nothing to do. They had enough volunteers that we weren't really needed, but that's OK, we had fun anyway.

After the races, we went back to Ty's parents' farm and decided we would go tubing. For those of you with no snow, that's tying a tractor's inner tube to a ski-doo and going really fast and laughing and falling off, and generally having an awesome time. I do not recommend this as an appropriate activity for pregnant women. . .

I hadn't packed the proper clothing for this activity so Ty's mom lent me waist-high ski pants, mittens and a toque. I had a good winter coat already.

We were out for a good long time, and when we went in to warm up, I laughed at the snow that had been pushed up, without my knowing, into my shirt and bra. I didn't mind, I wasn't even cold!

That night my nipples were on fire. I went to the bathroom and peeked under my bra and they were red and swollen and OHMIGAWD!!ONFIRE!!PUTITOUT!!ITHURTS!

Uhm, just so you know, don't put cool cloths on frostbitten skin to kill the burning hot ouchyness. Yea, not a good idea.

So I took some Tylenol and hit the hay, hoping that whatever was wrong with my poor abused nipples would be done and gone by morning. I got my period that night. It was unusually heavy.

Unfortunately by morning my nipples were cracked and bleeding and blistered. Disgusting to say the least. I put some polysporin on them and tucked toilet paper in my bra and tried to get through the day.

By Monday I was dying. Or wishing. Same thing. Nothing can ever compare to what my nipples felt like. Every time I took a breath they would rub on my bra, opening blisters and skin and blood and guck and owie! They say you forget the pain of birth, and you do, but you do not forget this type of pain. Ever.

I finally went to a 24 hour clinic, basically, because I was pretty sure that my nipples were about to fall off, or explode. At that point I didn't care which, as long as the pain ended at the same time.

When the doctor explained to me that it was frost bite, I blanked, I couldn't figure out where This could possibly had happened, and I even argued with him. After about ten minutes I finally remembered the snow packed bra and slapped myself up-side the head.

So the Doctor peeled some of the dead skin off, not fun, gave me prescription creams and instructions to purchase breast pads. You know? The ones that stop leaky milk in Moo Mommies?

It took a long time before they were healed and a lot of embarrising doctor appointments. Even now, eight years later, when they get cold, they BURN. If you ever see me walking outside in the winter time and you cant see my hands in my sleeves, that's because they are tucked into my bra trying to keep my nipples warm.

Any ideas for next winter, girls? I've tried the little mitten inserts, but they get too hot too soon. I have what i call my winter bras, they are heavy thick Cotton. Can I get a bra in flannel? I wonder if lumberjack checks would turn Jittery Joe on...

Now for the hard part of the story. At the beginning I explained I was six or so weeks pregnant. We had no clue. None at all. I swear to God, If I knew, there is NO WAY I would have gotten on that inner tube. But I didn't know.

On March 25th, I went to the doctors for a pregnancy test. because Coffee Mom made Me I argued and argued when he told me I was already 14 weeks pregnant, I explained very patiently, that I had gotten a period, a nice heavy one, in February. I could not possibly be 14 weeks already.

But whatever! Cool! A baby!

Throughout my pregnancy with Rainbow Man there were weird shadows and echos during the ultrasounds. Lots of things that we didn't understand, nor to be truthful, really paid attention too. The baby was healthy at each appointment, growing, that's all I cared about. We planned our wedding, and by "we" I mean them, 'cus I watched a lot of TV and napped while they did all the work.

Finally the day came for RM to be born. I won't get into his whole birth story here, although, I would like to mention that I am a champion pusher and had that boy out before the doctor even got to the room. Three pushes. I rawk.

Anyway, at about four centimeters a nurse came and broke my water, then I had a nap. A new nurse came in a while later and broke my water again. I had no clue what was going on, I didn't pay attention to the birth videos in prenatal class except to make fun of the seventies bush the women all seemed to sport. And I was tired.

We didn't know anything was wrong until the nurses started to argue about who broke the bag of waters. Rainbow man was out and in his nice warm bassinet. Ten Fingers, Ten Toes. Jittery Joe was over on the other side of the room, doing the proud papa act, he even changed the first diaper.

When it was time for the placenta to come out, something else came with it. Something that the doctor later told me should have killed Rainbow Man in the womb. Rainbow Man had a twin. My doctor figures that because there was two separate sacs for them to live in, that's why RM didn't get ill.

And to be honest, really and truly honest, I had my healthy wee baby. I fell in love with him long before he was born. I didn't know about his sibling until it was already to late, and by then, well I had my baby, the only one I had known about and loved. The most perfect little man.

I've never been really sad about Rainbow Man's twin, whats the point? You can't miss what you don't know after all, but we do have a lot of questions about what, if anything, do we say to Rainbow Man about his birth.

Not really the post you expected, huh? I tried to make it humorous but I failed. I like whips, so flogging me is a viable option...Just sayin...


About the title. Seriously. I drink enough coffee. I swear my bobbies would make some sort of coffee product not milk. Maybe Coffee Crisp's? That would Rawk!

Labels: I'm Important Too