Well, here we are. August 6. The Official Due Date of Baby Clauss 2001.
And still no baby! I suppose that’s to be expected, though, since only around 5% of all babies are born on their due dates in this country. Plus, we still have a couple more hours! He could still make it!
Yeah, right.
Cool! UPS man just tried to sneak a package on the porch, but the dogs were on to ‘im. He was bearing purchases from drugstore.com! Woo hoo! Boudreaux Butt Paste for everyone! Baby, if this is what you’ve been waiting for, then wait no longer! The Butt Paste is here!
And, what, you may be asking, is Boudreaux Butt Paste? Kindly remove your minds from the gutters and place them directly on the changing table. Boudreaux is this wonderful concoction invented by a pharmacist in Louisiana to help prevent and treat diaper rash. My friends Brooke and Tim use it on their wee one and it works like a charm. And it smells way better than A&D ointment, kinda like vanilla. And isn’t, “Hey, honey, we need more Butt Paste,” way more fun to say than, “We’re out of A&D Ointment.” I hate that word, ointment. It just sounds unpleasant.
I hope the dogs don’t take a hankering to the smell, though. That’s all we need, is to get the dogs more interested in stinky diapers. Luckily, we have our trusty Diaper Genie to lock-down all the smelliness, though. Guaranteed wiener-dog proof!
Anyway, all of this ruminating on due dates has me recalling last December 1, the day I found out I was pregnant.
It was a Friday. I had been acting crazy all week long, going totally ballistic on Tim for the smallest of reasons. In fact, just a couple of days before, I had gone to get my hair cut (Tim had an appointment with the same person for that night) and the check card was declined. I just asked if Tim could pay later and she said sure. Well, I went home and started to look for the checkbook, totally enraged, because I knew I would then have to deliver it to Tim since his check card wouldn’t work. I couldn’t find the damn checkbook which made things even worse. I did all of this instead of looking at our bank to see what might be the problem with the check card. I ended up driving back to the salon, sans checkbook, where I knew Tim would be going to soon. I found him in the lobby, playing a video game while waiting for his appointment. He said that he had the checkbook.
It’s terrible to say this, but keep in mind that I was temporarily insane: If I had had a gun, I would have shot him. That’s how mad I was. Why? Hell if I know! It’s irrational anger — there’s no explanation! Anyway, turns out there was nothing wrong with the card at all. I just needed to have her try it again. Looking back, I feel so bad for poor Tim. He just said, “What is wrong with you?”
We soon knew why — I was pregnant.
By Friday of that week, I couldn’t wait any longer. We had only been trying to get pregnant for about a month and a half, so I thought that if I was pregnant, I couldn’t be very far along. So I researched the pregnancy test that would yield the most reliable results at the earliest possible time and went to Walgreens to buy it. Of course, it was at lunchtime and for some reason, the Walgreens was totally packed. I had to stand in a huge line of people, all the while trying to looking nonchalant about buying a home pregnancy test. I took it home, carefully read the directions and realized that I needed to wait four hours before taking it.
I typed email, puttered around and generally stalled for as long as I could. Finally, the four hours had passed and I took the test. You have to wait a couple of minutes for it to work, but mine had two pink lines like that! Very pregnant!
I can’t think of the right words to describe the feeling that washed over me. Paralyzing fear. Elation. Relief at the knowledge that I was not, indeed, insane. Anxiety. Wonder at what those two pink lines really meant.
The one thing I was sure of: I did not want to give Tim the news over the phone. So what did I do? I called him immediately.
I was sobbing as soon as I heard his voice. Needless to say, he was very happy. But the actual conversation is for us only.
That night, we just happened to be hosting our friends the Grifters after they played a show downtown. Actually, it was a good thing I found out that I was pregnant that day, or else baby Clauss could have been exposed to mucho alcohol with those boys in town.
So, by the end of the night, my mom knew (had to call her!), Tim’s parents knew (I think), the Grifters knew and about five or six of our friends who just happened to be at the show knew. We were crazy! And, to think, I was only 4 weeks pregnant! When I think about all of the things that could have gone wrong with the pregnancy between then and now, well, I probably still would’ve told everyone. It was nuts!
So that’s the story of how I found out that I was pregnant. And it’s hard to fathom just how many light-years away August 6, 2001 sounded on that day.