Mozart for Scooters

On Saturday night I finished up my sermon (sermons written on Saturday night=maximum freshness) and asked Sean if he might be plotting something for Mother's Day.  He was. "Would you like to have Mother's Day now?"  Why yes, I would!

Hank the Dog and I made room for Sean on the couch (Hank sleeping on my feet is a very important component of sermon writing.)  Sean brought over a plastic bag promisingly full of gifts (unwrapped gifts=maximum freshness.)  I started with the card: the cover features an illustration of a very pregnant lady in profile and the words "Kick! Kick! Kick!" emanating from her belly.  The message inside: "Translation: Happy Mommy's Day from You-Know-Who!"

Voldemort?  Nooooooooo!  Run, Harry Potter!

Obviously, I loved this card even before I read Sean's message.  As you will see, I was about to love it even more.

Sean writes:

I was so excited when little Scooter asked me to share a few thoughts in this card.  What a wonderful mother you are and you will be! When I see you, so content, so happy, with your hands resting on your belly (not so big as the front of this card yet) I get such a thrill! Soon we will hold our little Scooter, but you are holding our little Scooter every day--what a wonderful, uncomfortable miracle.  All of my love x2.  Mwah!

You are maybe starting to notice a theme in these blog posts.  The theme is crying.  My happy crying woke up Hank, who was concerned.  After sniffing at my face a bit he sat down next to me very calmly and put his head on my belly.  From the way he lingered with his big ear there and the thoughtful look on his face, we wondered if he could hear the baby.  

We've read in our baby books that, at this stage, Little Scooter can probably hear us.  I am hoping Little Scooter likes my sermons.  Sean has started directly addressing the belly: "Hey Baby!" he says.  "I'm your daddy!"  There's a theory (not scientific) that playing music for the baby helps with brain development--Mozart, in particular, is a popular choice among fetal geniuses.  As I went back into the plastic bag of presents, I pulled out a three CD set of the Best of Mozart along with a pair of big, padded, new/old school head phones. Perfect.

After church on Sunday we set me up with the Mozart and the headphones.  At first, I couldn't discern any fetal activity.  Then I shifted the headphones down and to the side and some very noticeable scooting commenced. At this stage, the baby's movements feel like weird little internal tickles. In this case, the tickles seemed to say: "I'd much rather be listening to Jethro Tull, Mom."

I was spectacularly sick last night--clean up required a mop.  After getting me cleanly and safely to bed, getting Hank into his crate and getting a bucket for me and another bucket for the mop, Sean commented, wryly, "One thing we know for sure: the baby does not care for Mozart."  As sick as I was, I was more happy and content in that moment than words can tell.  I put my hands on my little baby belly and said about a thousand thanksgivings.  What a wonderful, uncomfortable miracle!

First fatherly freak-out

It's a milestone! So Annie isn't the only one having white-knuckled, cold-sweat, stomach-churning reactions during this pregnancy… Last week I had a genuine, 100% honest-to-gosh panic attack over Annie's hypothetical toxic exposure to the dangerous bio-hazard K9 Advantix. An exposure, which, in my mind, occurred this way:

• Step 1. Following the instructions on the package, I applied the very small bottle of flea and tick prevention medicine to Hank's neckular and rumpular areas, below the fur.
• Step 2. I go to work, forgetting to remind Annie that I've dosed the puppy and she should wash her hands if she touches him.
• Step 3. ??? I was pretty fuzzy on this step at the time, but my best reconstruction at this moment is that Annie would, in a fit of pica and morning grogginess, lick the small oily patch below Hank's collar. As one does.

The fevered panic that gripped me would not be alleviated until I had called our vet and the medical hotline on the back of the package for reassurance. Some choice quotes:

Me, desperately trying to hold it together:“My wife is pregnant, is there any information we need to know about using your product? On our dog. We use it on our dog.”

Representative #3, much later:“You know, we don't really, like, test these things on pregnant women, right?.”

Long story short, for those who are interested and pregnant, let someone else apply the medicine, avoid contact with your puppy until the medicine has dried, and always wash your hands afterward.

Which leads to the single most important phone call my mania inspired that day – the six phone calls I made to Annie in under 2 minutes, which convinced her to pull over to the side of the highway wondering “who had died,” so I could let her know she needed to wash her hands right now! It is an awfully good thing she has me looking out for her safety.