Or this could happen:

As I lay on the ultrasound table waiting for the ultrasound person to goo my belly, I asked her if this was all a joke she’d played on me the month before when I had discovered that I was pregnant and she had spent an hour looking for the lost Mirena.

It’s hard to be in denial when this little Buddha bellied fetus is standing on its head and waving.  I still think I’m just getting fat and not that there’s someone alive in there.  I’m a baby hotel.  A Super 8.  Or a Days Inn.  Stay Free for 9 Months in Flashing Neon on my forehead.

The worst part (Or one of the worst parts because I keep starting out conversations that way) is that my oldest daughter’s friends seem to all be having babies and my baby will be younger!!!

Maybe I should just train the two babies (don’t forget my 14 month old) to call me Grandma and then I look like a self-sacrificing Grandmother instead of an idiot.

One day I’ll discovered it stuck to the bottom of my foot.

Or it ended up in the laundry and one of the kids will wear it to school stuck to the back of their shirt.

I’ve even caught myself looking in the hall at work like I dropped it while walking through.  It can come out that easily.

Maybe I’ll scoop it out of the litter box because one of the cats thought it was floss.

It’s disappearance bothers me more than anything else about this whole situation.  I’ve never been good at letting go of lost things.

Hell, yes.

Can it fall about without anyone knowing it?

Hell yes.

I did everything I was supposed to do.  Had it checked on 6 weeks after insertion and it was right where it was supposed to be.

But it disappeared, vanished, teleported to someone else’s cervix.  I don’t know when or how and I didn’t cramp or bleed or feel it coming out.

How do I know it’s not there???

I thought the steroid nasal spray was making me ill.  That is one of the side effects.  And then I thought the antibiotic for my ear infection was making me ill.  That is one of the side effects.  Every afternoon around 3:00 I get desperately ill.  Couch laying ill.  Groaning and wishing I could die ill.

I could sue them if it was still in there, embedded in a wall, tearing a hole through to my bladder.  But it’s GONE.  The ultrasound person said she’d never seen one just disappear before and that it might have gotten caught on a tampon or come out if I was constipated.  Steroid nasal spray makes me constipated.

How can birth control just fall out?

What other birth control can cause such harm?

What other birth control fails and tears through a fetus, breaks apart, puts hole through things, requires surgery to take out?

They say it’s more effective than tubal ligation or a vasectomy.  But it seems they aren’t counting the times it vaporizes, POOF.

I keep looking around at the floor thinking I’m going to see it lying there.  ”Oh, there you are!”

$800 just for the IUD, more for the insertion, $600 for the ultrasound to check on it.  $270,000 when it goes POOF.

Don’t do it!!!!

But that won’t work because I pee myself when I jump around because I’ve had four kids and my muscles are weak . . .”

She interrupted me.

So I did my own version of a jumping jack which she described as a Kangaroo Dance.

Then she told me I’d have to do 100 full sit ups.  Well, that wasn’t happening as I have no abs left.

So I did my own version I stole from yogamazing and she said I looked like a curled up Koala.

That’s all fine, but then she explained planking to me and I did it for about 5 seconds before my insides hurt and I collapsed on the floor so I did my own version of the superman.

She said I looked like a sloth which is when I broke up laughing and gave my abs a workout.  And then she compared me to my friend Tarri.   So I did my best Tarri impersonation.

Well, this isn’t gonna work.  I ran out of beer.  

And then the baby pounded on the door and I ran out of the room.

I waited until he was in bed too and said:

I haven’t stepped on the tack strip on my way to the bathroom yet.

But I do feel like you set up a trap on purpose.

You do remember the spider paper, right?

And the glue you used still smells.

We’ll breathe in the chemicals all night.

I feel like you’re trying to kill me.

To which he replied:

“You sound just like Sheldon Cooper.”

When I start channeling Sheldon Cooper in bed there’s a problem.  So today I’m reading Learned Optimism.  Which is such a Sheldon Cooper thing to do.  I’m in BIG TROUBLE.

He lost weight the first week, but then complained this morning that he hadn’t lost any this week.  So I asked what he was eating.  PORK RINDS.  ROAST BEEF for breakfast.  As much meat as he wants.  You can’t lose weight eating a bunch of CRAP.   You can die of a heart attack.  GAH.

So I sent him links to the Atkin’s Diet site that say 6 oz protein portions at each meal.  THAT’S IT.  8 cups of salad and 2 cups of cooked vegetables a day.  There’s a long list of acceptable food and PORK RINDS is not on that list.

He’s sitting in his recliner right now reading about it.  I’m writing this blog.   We are IMing on FB because that’s the way we do things now.  Soon I’ll pass out on a couch with Marley sleeping on me.

But Pork Rinds are on my diet.  That’s what he said to me when I questioned his choices.  I’m still laughing.

So what’s the plan tonight?

Josie and Katilee and I are going to the dance but they’re going home after.

Well have fun.  Have sex and drugs and Rock and Roll because I was never allowed to do anything with friends during high school and you should make up for that.

Stunned Silence.

Well, you’re date is GAY.  So it shouldn’t be a problem.

He’s bisexual.

But he said he’s wearing a dress to the dance so I just don’t see it happening.

Laughter.

Back when I was a kid so many years ago none of these things was ever mentioned.  It’s not that it didn’t exist.  It was just hidden.  We were all taught that everyone needed to be completely normal, meaning marry someone of the opposite sex, have children, attend church, don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t swear, don’t listen to bad music.  Don’t have sex.  I don’t feel that the times have changed, except that we talk more openly about what’s going on.  How boring life would be if everyone was exactly the same.

It’s a good thing I teach mindfulness and relaxation and I just kept counting to 10 and concentrating on my hands gripping the arms of the chair.

Then I went to Albertsons to buy soy milk for the baby as he seems to be lactose intolerant and gets LOUDLY GASSY on cow’s milk.  I went through self checkout and the whole machine just wouldn’t work for me and said “Please Wait” forever and then wouldn’t accept my debit card and then started all over and the cashier person working the self checkouts had to come over twice to help me and kept calling me DEAR in a really sweet voice and patted me on the shoulder and thought I was retarded, probably because my face was so numb only half of it would open and I sounded like a mentally retarded person with a lisp.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry on the way home.

And then the girls were home sick, but felt good enough to heckle me and ask me to say words like “witches” and “shouldn’t” so they could laugh at me.

The worst part is that I AM SO HUNGRY and I made a Lemon Pound Cake and I could try to eat but I would probably gnaw off the end of my tongue without knowing it and then the mumbling lisp would be permanent.

Five minutes later I open the door to a horrible scene.  Emily has the baby on the floor with his pants off and is yelling “He shit on my pants!”

And the couch.

And the floor in front of the television.

And his own pants.

And sweatshirt.

How did all this happen?

She was holding him when she felt something warm running down her leg, ran to the living room, sat him on the floor so she could find a blanket to put him on, and was trying to figure out how to change him without spreading it further.  This explains everything EXCEPT the couch.  My only guess is that while running by, somehow the poop shot out and landed on the couch.

Centrifugal force?

The doctor looked in my ears and they were perfectly OKAY.  No sign of infection.  She place her icy hands on my cheekbones and pushed.  No, my sinuses don’t hurt.  I have a middle ear infection, behind my eardrums and into my eustachian tubes.  Small children get this.  Or mothers whose small children like to stick their snotty little fingers inside their mother’s mouths.

She prescribed Flonase and said it would take about a month to get rid of the inflammation and blockage.  So far I just feel lightheaded and there’s a weird burning sensation in my throat.  Icy burning.  More curious than anything else.  I can’t hear any better yet, but it isn’t any worse.

So I looked up the side effects and cataracts are on that list!  I’m going to be able to hear, but I’m going to have milky blind eyes!  Well at least it’s better than having a huge yeast problem and having a milky white tongue and milk white . . . oh never mind.