Surprising Revelations

Clare and I were having dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings this past weekend when I told her that my oldest daughter has been experiencing excruciating pain from a problem that involved her clavicle being separated from her shoulder.  Clare empathized and told me that she too had experienced the same problem years ago.

Curious, I wanted to know, "How did it happen?"

Clare was uncertain about how the separation occurred. She had always attributed the separation to one of her pregnancies when she felt so much pain she could only guess that the weight of her belly had been responsible for pulling her clavicle away from her shoulder. 

Because of the relentless pain, though, Clare made an appointment to see a doctor who took an x-ray and showed Clare the results of her x-ray. The separation was so immediately obvious, it surprised Clare. I told her that Keeley, too, was surprised by how obvious the separation showed in her x-rays.

While the memory of that long-ago time blossomed in her mind, Clare suddenly cocked her head to one side as if another related memory had just slammed into her brain. Her face filled with a sense of wonder, she exclaimed, "I think I know how it happened! It must have been that time I got hit by a truck!"

Whoa! Wait! What? I, who am not at all capable of repressing laughter, exploded with it (though I did apologize to Clare for laughing at her expense), but I had to know, "How could you not remember being hit by a truck?"

With her surprising revelation, Clare detailed the event. She was 18 and walking to the train after work. She was also wearing high heels. When the snow storm hit she was paying such close attention to the snow under her feet that when a truck appeared suddenly and knocked her down, she blacked out. She awoke in the back of the truck with about 50 onlookers who wondered if she might be in a coma. Nobody called 911 back then (it didn't exist), and, more embarrassed than hurt, Clare got up and just walked away.

Years later she had 5 children, one of whom she blamed for the pain in her shoulder when she was pregnant with her. Not until this past weekend did she realize that the pain was actually caused by a truck hitting her. 

Clare is now 73 years old and in better shape than some 20-year-olds I've seen. The pain in her shoulder is gone, and her memories just keep getting funnier (to me).

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The Kid That Wasn't Named Ker – Day #11 from the A-Z Challenge

One of my favorite friends of all time, from the time we were in grammar school, is my Beatles-loving friend, Denise.

Her father, God rest his soul, drove two hysterical teenagers from the south suburbs of Chicago to Comiskey Park (White Sox Stadium) to watch the Beatles in concert one hot August day in 1965. I wrote about that experience in my article, Commemorating John Lennon's 70th Birthday, October 9, 2010: The Day John Lennon Waved at Me.

But beyond being Beatles buddies, Denise has always held a special place in my heart. Years and even months may pass, but we always manage to pick up where we left off.

One year, when she was pregnant with one of her sons, I recommended a name for him – Ker. She was not amused. Their last name was Plunk.

And that completes Day #11 from the A-Z Challenge. Brought to you by the letter, K.

Previous A-Z Challenge blogs:

Amazon Hates Me – Day #1 from the A-Z Challenge

Bored – Why? – Day #2 from the A-Z Challenge

Craziness – Day #3 from the A-Z Challenge

When Your Daughter Develops, DON'T DO THIS! – Day #4 from the A-Z Challenge

Ellen – Day #5 from the A-Z Challenge

Family and Friends – Day #6 from the A-Z Challenge

The Grownup Table – Day #7 from the A-Z Challenge

Happiness & Joy – Day #8 from the A-Z Challenge

Idiots in the Attic – Day #9 from the A-Z Challenge

Jokes Accidentally – Day #10 from the A-Z Challenge

My TOP TEN SURPRISES about Giving Birth

Pregnancy is an exciting period in any woman's life, filled with a combination of expectancy and anxiety. Concern about the baby's welfare begins at conception, and the entire nine months is pregnant with surprises, not the least of which is the birthing process itself.

During the initial phases of childbirth, women begin to feel what some people refer to as "uncomfortable." I remember calling my mother and telling her I was on the way to the hospital, but not to get too hopeful, because it was probably just gas. In my top ten list of amazing discoveries made during childbirth, counting down from ten, my Surpise #10 – it wasn't gas.

A pregnant woman mentally prepares herself for the anguish of knowing a thousand people will be parading through the room at any given moment, and unless she has been perfectly prepared, she will be as surprised as I was by my Surprise #9 – getting shaved.

Surprise #8 was later discovering that when hair growth begins (almost immediately), those tiny little standup straight hairs get caught in the fabric of whatever you happen to be wearing.

Surprise #7 is my all-time favorite surprise, because this one includes the significant other who, instead of being your helpmate, your stronghold, your soft shoulder to lean on, has to tell you exactly WHEN you will be getting your next contraction. "Oh, here comes another big one, Honey!" Along with uterine contractions, you may experience the same vengeful loathing I felt as the muscles in my eyes contracted into a scathing squint.

Unless you give birth at home, interns and residents will poke and prod your belly. They, along with your husband, watch the monitor in gleeful anticipation of your next contraction. If you're lucky, you will get a doctor who uses her palm to feel the contraction. Surpise #7 is finding a doctor who loves to prod with the points of all of his fingers – on both hands – stabbing you at once and disovering that your reflex is to kick him in the groin.

Reflection time: I remember the first moment of feeling a flutter – a tiny movement, something so uniquely different from anything I had ever felt before, a tiny foot, or perhaps an arm or an elbow pushing me at some midway point in my pregnancy. I remember the exhilaration I felt upon first feeling "life" – so imagine my Surprise #6 – pain so intense I could have crushed the hospital with my thoughts. Nobody can prepare you for that level of pain, because you will probably hear numerous stories about how "I went to the hospital at 3 AM and by 3:01, she just popped out." I hated those people.

Surprise #5 was discovering I would not be able to engage in sex for several weeks. But the surprise was more of a "Why would I ever want to do THAT again," than a whiny, "Oh why not?"

Surprise #4 was a surprise filled with regret – oh why oh why did I not allow you to drug me? Why oh why was it SO important for me to go through a "natural" childbirth?

Surprise #3 actually came when I realized, after experiencing the ultimate joy of being pregnant for nine months, that I was warning myself to "NEVER DO THIS AGAIN – NEVER FORGET" combined with a deep-seated wish that my husband were the one giving birth.

And yet, moments after giving birth, I completely forgot the warnings I gave to myself, the regrets over having a natural childbirth, because my #2 surprise was discovering the intensity and depth of love I felt for this little infant I had been carrying around with me for nine months. Giving birth and the process of releasing a child into the world may have created a void in my womb, but it was instantly filled with a love so deep and so profound, I marveled at my ability to love so strongly and to feel so protective.

But the biggest surprise of all, my #1 Surprise was realizing I would be willing to do it all over again, and again, and again.

Just call me "Your Fatness"

I learned something yesterday that I had been considering for some time – that my children are all liars, as are some of my grandchildren.

How do I know this?

Good question.

Lamenting for years about how my tummy had grown to mountainous proportions, I heard comments like, "Oh, mom, stop. You're not fat," or, "You've had four kids, what do you expect?"

Now you might think that last statement was confirmation that my exponentially extended belly was in fact enormous, but the comment was usually followed by, "You're  not fat."

I realize that everybody was just trying to be polite (translation: to lie), but I wanted the truth.

Yesterday I got it when my four-year old granddaughter patted me on the belly and asked, "Grandma, are you pregnant?"

Yes, Audrey, I am. I call my baby, "Tumor." Sadly, he will never be born and I will have to carry him around with me for the rest of my life. 

I fantasize about poking a needle into the flab then vacuuming it like liposuction. I am, however, afraid I might pass out when the needle opens my skin, and when paramedics find me, they will see gelatinous blobs of fat that seeped out of my body. Reminds me of Oprah Winfrey with her wagon of fat. I couldn't do that to the paramedics.

Wonder what would happen if I ate only sunflower seeds for the rest of my life.

One positive thought I can take away from all of this is that while I may look like I'm ready to give birth, I must at least took young enough to be able to do so.