“The literary equivalent of a summer night, a good friend and a gin-and-tonic: Shannon is a deft writer; a natural storyteller with a wicked turn of phrase and frighteningly specific memory...”

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TWFKAB Turns Two-Years Old: The First Post

On October 18th, 2010 I was disillusioned enough with screenwriting to start a blog.  I didn’t think I had anything to say so I decided to publish a journal I kept while I was pregnant with my youngest, Bridget, one entry at a time.  I ran out of entries March 17, 2011 and that is when I went live, pimping out my friends, family, acquaintances, perfect strangers and my own vagina.

First Picture on my blog. Me pregnant with Bridget with a tree growing out of my head.

In honor of my auspicious pimpage I am reposting my very first post today.

I would not still be blogging if you weren’t reading.

Yes you.

I see you.

You’re eating chocolate, or popcorn, or cheese, or crackers.  You’re drinking coffee, or tea, or Diet Coke or wine.  You’re wearing your pajamas, your sweats, your business suit, your birthday suit.  Your heart is broken, you’re in love, you think you’re a sexual deviant, you think you’re fat, skinny, flat-chested, big assed.  You’re getting a divorce, you’re getting married, you’re having a baby, you can’t have a baby, you don’t want a baby, you’re a Christian, a Muslim, a Buddhist, a Jew.  You’re agnostic, atheist, environmentalist, hedonist.  you’re broke, you’re rich, you’re happy, you’re sad, you’re growing up, you’re dying, you’re sick, you’re recovering, you’ve never felt better.  It is the best of times, it is the worst of times.

And I love you.

Even when you hate me.

I love you for reading, commenting, lurking, judging,  lol-ing,  barking in disdain, thinking you are no longer alone in the howling wilderness because I am there too.  So are we all.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

THE FIRST POST:  I’M PREGNANT.

I’ve been pregnant before so I suspect my body will remember how to do it again, but I‘m old.  Not as old as say Methuselah.  But close.  Very close.

Still I’m hopeful.  I watch my husband Henry prepare to leave for Ralph’s to buy a pint of vanilla ice cream.  He’s lost some weight and needs to put it back on.  He’s almost out the door when I cry out, “Can you get me an Early Pregnancy Test?”  It’s the cry of a junkie looking for one last fix.  We had sex two weeks before, my period’s not due for two days and this will be my third pregnancy kit.  I wonder if pregnancy kits are a gateway drug to stealing a couple of Octomom’s babies?

Henry hesitates in the doorway, a daring move, for in that hesitation he’s suggesting that my request is a little unreasonable, a sign of mounting hysteria in my desire to have a second child.  The hesitation is fleeting, almost indecipherable, yet when his face reappears from behind the door it’s steeped in the guilt of a man who knows his mind has been read and found wanting.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he says, “What did you want?”

Like Doctor Doofnshmirtz from Evil Incorporated to Perry the Platypus, “You know what I want.”

With a brisk nod he’s gone.

The conception of our first child, a daughter, was planned but passionate.  We’d made our way out into the desert on a ripe with rain September eve.  Found our way to Two Bunch Palms, a spa hidden in the cactus and sage, pulsing with hot natural mineral springs.

It wasn’t in the springs that we conceived our child.  In fact, I realized while floating beneath a blanket of stars in the sulphuric pool that my husband’s sperm were being systematically fried.  That each and every last one of them were dying off in the hundred-plus degree heat.

I wrenched his unsuspecting form from a Watsu float and briskly toweled him dry, rushing him to our hotel room where I thrust him into a cold shower, reviving his little swimmers.  It was there, under the public water sans minerals pumped in from Palm Desert that our child came to fruition.  Despite the goal to procreate, we lost ourselves, briefly, to the novelty of making love standing up.

This time was just as calculated, less romantic.  The exhaustion of chasing a thirteen-month old who was just learning to walk, hence just learning to fall, had worn us both thin.  We were on vacation in the only part of Cape Cod that isn’t beautiful in a little house whose living room sat atop the kitchen of our neighbors.  It was there, in that living room, on the mildewed couch, in full view of a hand of Canasta played by the septuagenarian couple next door, that we tried to get pregnant again two weeks earlier.

“Here’s your kit,” Henry says, having the effrontery to toss it from the door.  I one-hand it out of thin air.

Heading toward the bedroom where I plan to hide the kit from myself for a few days I’m inexplicably assaulted by a wave of hormonal longing from which I emerge seated on the toilet peeing on the white ovulation stick.

Again I note my total lack of impulse control.  Placing the stick on the counter I return to the box on the floor by the toilet, realizing, with chagrin, that Henry didn’t buy the kind of kit with the free bonus stick.  There’s no way he’s going to let me spend another twenty-one ninety-five on a fourth kit.  Then something strange happens.  I become convinced that all I’m going to need is this one white ovulation stick, that much like young Charlie in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory who could afford to buy only one Wonka bar, I’m going to peel back the wrapper and find the golden ticket that will grant me entry to a strange new world full of danger and magic.  And probably chocolate.

When I return to the bathroom the requisite three minutes later and look at my stick all I see is a field of white.  Momentarily I’m surprised my instincts were wrong.  Then I realize the ovulation stick is lying upside down.  I turn it over.  There they are.  Two purple lines.

Being luckier than I have any right to be I am pregnant.  Again.

______________________________________________________________________

If you’d like to buy and download the book, INTO THE CHILD: 40 weeks in the gestational wilderness, just click on the link.


Tags assigned to this article:
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16 comments

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  1. audrey van petegem
    audrey van petegem 24 October, 2012, 10:48

    Congratulations! Looking forward to another 20 years of hanging out here!

    Reply this comment
  2. Chloe Jeffreys
    Chloe Jeffreys 24 October, 2012, 11:02

    Congratulations on your blog’s two year birthday. The world is a better place because of you. If I was into chicks I’d do you in a minute.

    Reply this comment
  3. Sharon Greenthal (@sharongreenthal)
    Sharon Greenthal (@sharongreenthal) 24 October, 2012, 11:29

    Two years of laugh-out-loud funniness and wry but on point insights – such a great accomplishment. You were a beautiful pregnant lady! Keep on writing, because I want to keep on reading.

    Reply this comment
  4. Denise Danches Fisher
    Denise Danches Fisher 24 October, 2012, 13:44

    How sweet it is…a joy to read…keep on keepin’ on!

    Reply this comment
  5. Catalina
    Catalina 24 October, 2012, 23:43

    I love your writing and look forward to continuing reading for more years to come. Congratulations on your second year blogaversary!

    Reply this comment
  6. Katarina Henkys
    Katarina Henkys 25 October, 2012, 00:33

    Hi, Shannon, reading your block is one of my favourite procrastination activities. I’m supposed to work, but got caught up again. Congratulations to your blog’s birthday!
    (-: Kat

    Reply this comment
  7. Lady Jennie
    Lady Jennie 25 October, 2012, 06:11

    Love your preggie picture.

    Reply this comment
  8. Anne Louise Bannon
    Anne Louise Bannon 25 October, 2012, 11:33

    Happy blog b-day! Congratulations on sticking it out. And, yes, I am reading. Love the first post, too.

    Reply this comment
  9. JOE WEBB
    JOE WEBB 25 October, 2012, 11:57

    the naked pics drew me in, now im a fan of your blog..always been a fan of naked women even before your blog..my three kids in a nutshell
    1. joshua moved my wedding up 5 months..oopsie
    2. Jacob was planned 1st shot.thank you very much, my sperm had a big s and cape.
    3. Jennifer. WTF how when where mine? are you sure! but we were stopping at two!! Now shes my princess!
    sometime hard for me to believe that i am no longer with someone who was a part of these three wonderful new people. Short story on that my ex wife and her girlfriend now are very happy..yes i turned her to the darkside. my current wife is very scared.
    keep writing and i will keep reading, you spur my memories.. JOe

    Reply this comment
    • Shannon
      Shannon Author 25 October, 2012, 15:44

      Joe I think you crack me up as much as I crack you up (I hope). You sound like a great dad. My gift was getting the men I dated who I wanted to marry me, to marry the next girl. I was very good at that. If there’s a next girl for Henry he should be vewy vewy afwaid.

      Reply this comment
  10. Julia Roberts
    Julia Roberts 27 October, 2012, 07:50

    Congrats on the blogoversary! And what a great picture!

    Reply this comment

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