two stories for two punks

I have two kids. I waited out my first pregnancy on a sailboat. Albeit, that boat was docked pretty much the entire time, but living on it with an extra thirty pounds strapped to your hips proved interesting. In the rain, with no hot water on board. Just a little space heater to stave off the dampness. And it was a little space, so not problem. Snug as a bug I was. And I had Ann's Coffee Shop with a good selection of home cooked classics to turn to. Simple chicken salad sandwiches, grilled cheese with tomato soup...


Actually life was really good in the marina. Pelicans to watch and the clank of the boats wiggling in their berths. Not to mention lots of CA sun. Things were going well until I slipped down the stairs that lead into the cabin and fell on the bottom half of the hatch that I was trying to climb over. Fortunately, the blow was taken by my thigh and hip rather than my huge belly, but I ended up with a streak of bruises down my side that would make your stomach turn. The kind that turn not only black and purple, but then orange and green too. When we went in for our appointment that month my midwife asked my husband to leave the room. "Oh great," I thought. "Who will ever believe that I live on a boat and slipped down the stairs... on the other hand, who could make up such a story?" Turns out the midwife lived in the next marina so my husband was pardoned.

After an amazing birth and another pregnancy (this time land side) it was time for baby number two to emerge. I had grown to monstrous proportions this time, with access to a fully stocked kitchen and still nursing the first rascal. The hitch (there's always a hitch) this time was that we were planning a home birth. I was looking forward to giving birth in the comfort and privacy of our home... who knew that I'd be overcome by the desire to burst into a sprint during contractions. I'm sure my husband and mother thought I had lost my mind, but, hell, that's what felt good. Zipping in circles around my living room sofa. I was a woman possessed by a ten pound baby. This punk had had enough of womb life and wanted out NOW, and she was born from start to finish in under an hour. My husband still curses the midwife to this day for not being there on time.

And I think things worked out pretty well...