Hello, everyone. I’m the other half of Daddy’s My Mommy — aka Mommy’s My Mommy, aka Jennifer Aniston’s body double, aka Leigh Ann. I was cajoled into writing a “guest blog” for today, so here goes.
Although my husband likes to tell jokes, even funny ones as times, he’s not really a practical joker. The true practical joker in our family, it turns out, is our baby.
Here’s a rundown of some of the “jokes” little Nathan and Reese have played on their Mommy and Daddy so far . . .
Joke #1: “I don’t actually exist.”
At our first ultrasound, the technician said she “didn’t see a baby yet.” Real funny, right? For a few seconds, I was numb. Then she said, “Wait, there it is.” And sure enough, there was a pea-sized blob with a beating heart. We were completely relieved.
Joke #2: “I might be retarded.”
Everything was going smoothly until we had an ultrasound to test for genetic abnormalities. Our sonographer seemed to think things looked good, but the nuchal translucency fold was borderline high. That combined with my age meant we had screened “risk positive” for Down’s syndrome. Subsequent blood work improved our odds, but still placed us in the high-risk category. After discussing our options, Scott and I decided to have a CVS to know whether the baby had Down’s (or anything else). If we were going to raise a special needs baby, we felt we needed time to prepare. Thankfully, the results were negative. There was nothing wrong with our baby . . . besides having us for parents.
Joke #3: “I gave Mommy diabetes.”
Then came the glucose-tolerance test, which of course I failed. The doctor asked me to retake the test, but this time over a three-hour stretch. She said that we would “laugh” at how normal my numbers were, but that we had to do this as a precaution. (Gestational diabetes can cause very big babies that are difficult to deliver.) So I fasted for 12 hours, then, light-headed and hungry, drove to a clinic in Beverly Hills and had my blood taken every hour on the hour . . . and, just like my doctor said, my numbers WERE completely normal. Real funny, little one. Now can I have my Krispy Kreme donuts back?
Joke #4: “My Mommy has polyhydramnio-something.”
At our 25-week checkup, my doctor measured my fundal height at 30 cm. As you are all probably aware, the number of centimeters should match the number of weeks. So this 5-cm “explosion” led to another diagnostic ultrasound. Since the first one went so well, we were just thrilled at the opportunity to have yet another thing “possibly wrong” with our baby. This time it was the amniotic fluid: there might be too much of it (a condition called polyhydramnios, which can be the result of a swallowing problem, an infection, or a birth defect). But two weeks later at a follow-up ultrasound, I was back in the normal range and the doctors chalked it up to a growth spurt. Lest you think our baby wasn’t enjoying this, have a look at our ultrasound from that day. Does that look like a smile to you?
All jokes aside, we’re thrilled to be bringing this little man or little woman into the world. Nathan or Reese, we already love you.
But, gosh, do you have a warped sense of humor.
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