How to be Pregnant Like Me

Last week, I managed to engage in email dialogue with a few fellow alumni about a project we're working on. (I say "managed" because my brain has been mushy for weeks now, unable to focus on a good book, an unanswered email, you name it.)

Somewhere in there, I mentioned that my activity would be limited in coming months due to, um, the anticipated arrival of two new human beings in this world who will need all of my attention.

What follows is a copy of the email reply I got from my friend Mike, followed by my reply to him, in which I explain what he would need to consider if he wanted to be Pregnant Like Me.

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Mike's response to my news:
No kidding, she just throws it in there, among the alumni council, Manolo’s perspective, a glossy postcard and attending meetings in Montezuma.
;-)

Pregnant, with twins, no less. That is friggin' monumental, Karen. You win the prize for Person I Know Whose Life Most Drastically Changed in Six Months (without actually dying or contracting some horrible disease).

Congratulations! Bravo!! That is amazing.

It’s odd. I see people (. . . well, women, actually) around me getting pregnant, and it’s beautiful, hopeful, blah, blah, blah. It really is, but it doesn’t penetrate. Somehow it’s different with you. Perhaps it’s the result of too many conversations, late at night, sharing perspectives. I know it’s been many years since we’ve actually spent any meaningful time together, but you’re as close as it comes. If I stand on my tippy-tippy-toes, and turn my head just right, and if squint my eyes in just the right way, it feels like I’m pregnant, too. Like I have hope, and not just duty, or fear to act for the future. And like there’s some little f***er kicking me in the side, and I’m actually happy about it.

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Here's my reply, posted here because I've got to learn how to make double use of my efforts, so now is a good time to start:

Hi, M,

Well, now I know what I'd like inscribed on my trophy!

Juan will need a trophy, too, of course-- perhaps with an added wing-ed figure on top... for after all, my changes are in the context of my culture, whereas his... oh, my... his are like having moved to Saturn (if it were life-sustaining) on top of everything else. He's really taking it all in stride, not freaking out, being a total grown-up about it, and helping me all the while (like helping me put on my socks, since reaching my feet is becoming a... feat), and until recently not being allowed to work. He's an amazing, gentle man, true to his surname.

Ah, but you get a trophy too! That's the one for Most Creative Response to Having Received News of a Friend's Pregnancy. If I stand on my tippy-tippy toes, I can imagine YOU pregnant!

But if you're going to continue imagining my state of affairs, here's what you'll need to know to really empathize. In short, here's How to be Pregnant Like Me.

1) Rearrange your organs -- like where your internal organs are now? Well, forget that-- now it's time to stick them in the corners-- between ribs, next to your lungs, down in your left jeans pocket-- wherever you can find room for them so that the expanding water balloon in your belly can keep growing.

2) Crush your organs -- now, turn on your left side to sleep. Stay there for a couple of hours, and then wake up with a vague sense that you've not been using your (fill in the blank: stomach, liver, pancreas, left kidney, epiglottis) for quite some time, that said organ has fallen asleep just like your leg does on occasion. Sit up, and feel the weird sensation of blood returning to that deflated organ, relief, nausea, tingling and general 'discomfort'. Now repeat, this time on your right side.

3) Start weeping... and don't stop! -- this is more of a first-trimester thing, but very much worth experiencing to get the whole hormonal effect. It's not enough to cry, no... you must WEEP. In PUBLIC. And for any reason-- anything that moves you in the least. Gratitude is what really did it to me--- I'd try to thank someone for something simple and then I'd be weeping, to their bemused horror. Say things like "don't worry, it's just hormones that are making me weep uncontrollably right now"-- or try to say this, but know that you'll get so choked up, trying to explain it just makes you cry more. The person's eyes get really wide, and they smile sympathetically as they start looking for an out...

4) Make eating your duty -- don't want to eat another steak? Tough luck-- those babies need protein. Lots of it. And 3,500 calories per day (the recommended intake when you're carrying twins). Suddenly, you need to eat as though you were scaling Mt. Everest. (And don't forget, Mr. Stomach is tucked away under Mr. Sternum right now, which makes eating a "challenge".) That's why ice cream is good (not tons of protein, but lots of calcium!), as it's soft and cool.

5) Live in the present -- it's about the best you can do when your short-to-medium term memory has been crowded out by your repositioned organs. Following through on emails? Forget about it. Putting together a linear chain of actions to complete a task? hahahaahahaha. Just turn on the DVD and give in to your reality: your brain is, and may well continue to be, mush.

By the way, the little f***ers (as you so colorfully refer to yours) have started kicking, and through that magic thing called the sonogram, we get to WATCH each one kicking and yawning and generally having a good time.

At our last visit, we also got to see (well, have interpreted for us by the angel who was our sonogram technician) the genitalia of these little people, so we now know! Worth mentioning here that it's not just a "penis" or "no penis" diagnosis-- it's more like "See those two parallel lines? That's the labia." and, "See that out-pointing triangle? That's the penis." So we're getting the best of both worlds with this pregnancy: a girl, and a boy. We couldn't be more fortunate.

A soon-to-be Working Man

Last week, Juan received his Employment Authorization Card from Homeland Security. With that, we went to the Social Security Administration and applied for his SSN. The card arrived today!

It's an understatement to say that he's eager to start working. He's already got a job lined up close to home, full-time, with benefits. He'll start actually working sometime in the coming week! Life is good.

Work Update:

Juan's now working full time at our local organic cooperative market. He's finding it a good way to get accustomed to using English on a daily basis, and it's central location in Takoma Park means he sees local friends on a regular basis.

A Poem, and a Puzzle

Life is a puzzle
Around which we revolve
To savor the pieces
As we aim to resolve
Life's ultimate questions:
Am I? Are we?
Is it X, or Y?
A? B?

If hints in the last posting didn't already give it away, this certainly will. Click on the link below to complete the jigsaw puzzle that says it all.

Share Our Surprise with this Jigsaw Puzzle

Enjoy!

It's already March, and I find myself paying attention to time like never before. Here are some Harper's Magazine-like statistics, as of March 3, 2008:

*123: days that Juan has lived in the U.S.
* 14: friends we had over to celebrate Thanksgiving, just 3 weeks after Juan's arrival
* 5: pies eaten at Thanksgiving (and for several days thereafter)
* 3: parlor games, including charades, played by some and endured by others between dinner and dessert on Thanksgiving
* 57: days that we've been married
* 24: days we had after the wedding to submit Juan's applications for residency, work authorization and 'parole' (permission to travel outside the US)
* 1: lawyer hired to help us navigate the overwhelming amount of paperwork required to submit said applications
* 4: snow and/or ice storms Juan has seen since arriving in the US.
* 75: times (estimated) Juan has taken public transportation, including Metrorail.
* 3: observations Juan has made about people on the Metro: A) people don't talk to each other; B) people seem obsessed with their iPods and cell phones; C) there seems to be an unspoken rule that men should not sit next to other men; that is, when the only seats open are those next to men, any man boarding the train will choose to stand rather than sit down.
* 5: vaccinations Juan had to get in order to apply for permanent residency
* 3: actual injections received (some vaccinations combined, thankfully)
*4-8: weeks that we expect to wait for Juan's work authorization to come through
* 9: days after arriving that Juan found an ESL theater group looking for someone to play "a Mexican man". He said "sure, why not?"
* 14: cast members who participated in the project
*130: hours of rehearsal required in the final weeks leading up to performance
*500: people who attended "Beyond the Simple Present," a play featuring an all-immigrant cast portraying the lives of newcomers in the U.S. Juan played a starring role as "Luis".
* 1: white squirrels spotted by Juan (and no one else) in our neighborhood
* 0: people who believed that what Juan had seen was a squirrel and not, say, a rat
* 1: photos Juan took of the white squirrel (seen at right), proving us all wrong
* 10: friends' parties we've attended, none of which have included dancing. Juan wonders why these are called parties at all.
* 4: times we went Contra dancing at Glen Echo Park before I started getting too dizzy and nauseous to do all of those turns
* 5: days after our last Contra dance that we suspected there was a reason...
* 1: mysterious blog postings you'll have to endure before more news is provided

Meanwhile, I've posted some highlights from the wedding, below. Enjoy.

You may need to click your "refresh" button to re-start the slide show...

Oh, I am remiss. So many things-- good things (except for the speeding ticket I got via camera speed trap on North Capital last week... for going 46 mph in a 35 mph zone... a scam, I say!)-- have been happening, and they're all worth sharing and reflecting on, but one at a time. One at a time.

Juan and I married on January 5 in the loving company of family and friends in beautiful New Mexico. A family friend officiated the ceremony and a dear friend from my high school days in Montezuma served as co-officiant and Spanish interpreter.

The Loretto Chapel looked as miraculous as its staircase, still decorated for the holidays and filled as it was with good energy. Friends came from all over: Mexico, South Africa, Maryland, California.

Mom and Dad surprised us with a mariachi band which escorted everyone down the streets of Santa Fe, from the chapel to the reception. There, we sang and danced and dined and played music together, celebrating our union, our families, and our friendships.

A couple of days later, it snowed-- big, fat flakes swirling against adobe backdrops transformed Santa Fe into the little heaven that it we already knew it was. Juan's parents padded around and laughed at the wonder of their first snow as my brother and his wife made angels, lying on their backs and swishing their arms above and below, still children at heart.

Mr.Caballero goes to Washington

Juan entered the US on Halloween, October 31st, and look at him now!

It was a bit of a journey-- two full days in Ciudad Juarez taking care of details (medical exam, interview at the Consulate) and two full hours crossing the border at El Paso (the US Border police were humorless but efficient). All in all, the whole thing went VERY smoothly.

My parents met us in El Paso and we drove to Santa Fe for a couple of days of R&R. This included a lovely day of lunch (a men's lunch and a women's lunch!) with friends who helped us celebrate Juan's arrival and our upcoming wedding.

We returned to DC on November 4, and after just four weeks, Juan is already singing in a choir, learning his parts for a theater project called the "ESL Living Collage" (more on that later), and gaining mastery of the DC Metro system. Oh-- and he's become a master Raker of Leaves, it being fall and all. More soon!

Heading to El Paso

Time's been flying like a Concord. Visa papers are trotting down the paper trail, and we're looking forward to the Big Day, namely: The Day Juan and I Live In The Same Country. Come October 31, El Paso will be living up to its name, big time.

Some background: After submitting our papers for Juan's K1 Visa back in April, we received our NOA2 (second Notice of Approval) from USCIS on July 11, giving Juan until November 11 (a 4-month window) to complete his (open appointment) interview in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico.

Oddly, Ciudad Juarez is where ALL Mexican K-1 Visas are processed nowadays-- as in the ONLY place in Mexico. So very convenient for someone living, oh, in The Rest Of Mexico. (For those of us in the US, going to Juarez for a visa is like having to fly to Newark to get your passport renewed... even if you live in, say, Modesto, California.)

Juarez is far away from Merida in every way, so we're going to combine it all into one big step: visa approval (at the US Consulate) and visa activation (at the border). The plan goes something like this:

Oct 29- Juan flies to Ciudad Juarez, and I fly to El Paso TX (just across the Rio Grande from Juarez). I cross the border to meet up with him.
Oct 30- We dedicate our day to the requisite medical exam for Juan. For some reason, they call this part of the process "biometrics". The US Consulate lists exactly two approved medical offices in Juarez where the exam must take place, and you must have the exam (and get a certificate) *before* going to the interview at the Consulate. From what I've read, it's definitely a two-day process.
Oct 31- we dedicate our day to Juan's K1 interview at the US Consulate. He'll wait in the consulate (possibly all day) and I'll wait outside. I hear they rent chairs across the street (sunblock, anyone?!), but I've also read that there are several close-by restaurants where you can camp while you wait. I wonder: What are my chances are of finding free wireless internet while I wait? Assuming all goes well, Juan will walk out of the Consulate with his K-1 Visa in hand sometime before 5 p.m.
Oct 31- under a Halloween moon, we'll activate Juan's visa at the Point of Entry (POE), probably at the Cordova bridge between Juarez and El Paso. In spite of the date, we're hoping the border agent won't be scary.