The skies threatened to rain, so I loaded up Raina in the minivan and decided to check out this new Marshalls in our neighborhood. I am a big fan of Marshalls since my pre-mommy days, when I discovered two wonderful bronzes of Nataraj and Ganpati fairly cheap. So when one opened up in our area, I went with somewhat high hopes.
You see, I was on a quest. For years and years, I'd been scouting for the Perfect Summer Sandals. In fact, this quest dates to 1997, when I saw a pair of luscious sandals at my cousin's home in Iowa. Unfortunately, they belonged to said cousin, and short of filching them, all I could do was gaze wistfully and vow that one day a pair will belong to moi.
You may think these must be some gorgeous sandals to inspire such emotion in me. Description: Brown strappy leather with a low heel. The leather straps are braided. That's it. Sounds ordinary, but when I put them on, my feet were so happy! They looked pretty and comfortable. In short, perrrrrfect.
My cousin had purchased her pair at Sears. So of course I checked out every Sears store in every town I've lived and visited since 97 (which are really quite a few). No luck, not even in India, where a lot of American shoes now are manufactured.
Recently, I saw a pair at a shoe store that came close. The price tag? $45. Nooooo! One shouldn't have to pay so much for such simplicity. So off I went to Marshalls today, with aforementioned high hopes.
Of course I had no luck. What's the world coming to these days that one can't find a simple pair of comfy, strappy sandals for summer?
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Memories of a C-Section
Read this post on Mad Momma's blog a couple of days ago http://themadmomma.blogspot.com/2007/03/and-we-have-time-and-date.html
It brought back a cascade of unpleasant memories of my own C-section almost three years ago. So I responded to the post, and later thought, dang, I need to record this for posterity so I can emotionally blackmail my daughter when she's 14, wearing black eyeshadow and yelling that time-honored phrase, "You don't understand!" So here it is, Raina, just for you...
"Your post brought back all the not-so-fun c-section memories of my own. I have an almost 3-year-old, and when I was pregnant with her, I knew exactly what kind of birth I wanted to have: no epidural, completely natural. I had a detailed birth plan drawn up, with copies for my ob-gyn and for nurses at the hospital.
Well, I went a week over my due date, and to cut a very long story short, had to have the doctor break my water because I'd been laboring for 48 hours with zero dilation. I was exhausted when I acquiesced to my first epidural; when that wore out, I got a second which did not work at all. At which point, I began screaming. Finally, I was wheeled into the OR where I got much-needed relief from a spinal block.
The doctor operating on me was my least favorite ob-gyn from the practice; she and the others chatted unconcernedly about their weekend plans while they cut me up and got my baby out. My husband, who was thankfully next to me throughout this ordeal, got to see the baby first. This is soooooo not fair, I still get mad when I think about it! Then I saw her, muttered a few deranged words and that was it for the next couple of hours. It was maddening! Husband disappears, baby disappears and I'm left to be stitched up.
I had months after the birth to feel and re-create the disappointment of not having the perfect birth experience. But if I hadn't had such high expectations, I wouldn't have been so disappointed. Because, all in all, the C-section by itself wasn't so bad."
Hmm, maybe I should edit out the last line. After all, I was exhausted, did succumb to an infection and generally was miserable for the next few months. So there you are, munchkin. Now I can assume the mantle of the All-Suffering Mom (ASM) and reply to your rant with my own time-honored phrase, "After all I've done for you..."
It brought back a cascade of unpleasant memories of my own C-section almost three years ago. So I responded to the post, and later thought, dang, I need to record this for posterity so I can emotionally blackmail my daughter when she's 14, wearing black eyeshadow and yelling that time-honored phrase, "You don't understand!" So here it is, Raina, just for you...
"Your post brought back all the not-so-fun c-section memories of my own. I have an almost 3-year-old, and when I was pregnant with her, I knew exactly what kind of birth I wanted to have: no epidural, completely natural. I had a detailed birth plan drawn up, with copies for my ob-gyn and for nurses at the hospital.
Well, I went a week over my due date, and to cut a very long story short, had to have the doctor break my water because I'd been laboring for 48 hours with zero dilation. I was exhausted when I acquiesced to my first epidural; when that wore out, I got a second which did not work at all. At which point, I began screaming. Finally, I was wheeled into the OR where I got much-needed relief from a spinal block.
The doctor operating on me was my least favorite ob-gyn from the practice; she and the others chatted unconcernedly about their weekend plans while they cut me up and got my baby out. My husband, who was thankfully next to me throughout this ordeal, got to see the baby first. This is soooooo not fair, I still get mad when I think about it! Then I saw her, muttered a few deranged words and that was it for the next couple of hours. It was maddening! Husband disappears, baby disappears and I'm left to be stitched up.
I had months after the birth to feel and re-create the disappointment of not having the perfect birth experience. But if I hadn't had such high expectations, I wouldn't have been so disappointed. Because, all in all, the C-section by itself wasn't so bad."
Hmm, maybe I should edit out the last line. After all, I was exhausted, did succumb to an infection and generally was miserable for the next few months. So there you are, munchkin. Now I can assume the mantle of the All-Suffering Mom (ASM) and reply to your rant with my own time-honored phrase, "After all I've done for you..."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)