Cock-a-doodle-doodie

4 weeks in and it looks like my diarrhea is here for the long haul. I go online to see if others suffer a similar problem to mine, and I see there are thriving communities for people that suffer from morning diarrhea just like me.

It’s comforting to know I’m not the only one going through this. But at the same time, it worries me when I see that some people have had this problem for years with no relief in sight. I don’t really know if I can only eat bread and rice for the rest of my life. What's the point of living if a man can't order a slab of medium rare steak with all the fixings?

I also learn that in Chinese medicine, this symptom is called cock’s crow diarrhea. I like the sound of that. So much more creative than irritable bowel syndrome. The coolness factor gets upped a notch when you add the word 'cock' to any phrase or sentence.

This morning, Jessie sends me an article about cock’s crow diarrhea and says that it’s caused by stress. Thanks for the info, but you’re a bit late to the party. I believe that was already addressed at the doctor’s.

She then asks me what’s on my mind. I guess she wants to play Dr. Phil now. Time for a little heart to heart talk.

Jessie: So, what’s on your mind?
Me: Well, I keep thinking about all the goodies I ordered from Amazon that I’m about to get.
Jessie: That’s not stress.
Me: You asked what was on my mind. That’s what’s on my mind.
Jessie: Sigh.
Me: Ok, I am a bit stressed that you won’t let me take a picture of your swollen feet for my next blog entry. I’ve got a great piece ready to go, and the only thing missing is the picture. It’s so frustrating!
Jessie: There are enough pictures on your blog already. I look so ugly. When will you stop taking pictures?
Me: First, you say I don’t take enough pictures of you, and then when I start taking more pictures, you tell me to stop. This gives me stress because I’m confused as to what I should be doing. No wonder I have diarrhea. You’re the cause of all of this!
Jessie: Sigh.

Surprise!

This past weekend, the wife decides she wants to tell my parents about the baby still being in breech. I warn her against this because I know my mom will begin to worry. Who knows how she would react to the news. But Jessie insists that we tell her because my parents will have to know about it sooner or later.

After hearing the news, my mom just gives Jessie some advice on how to help make the baby turn down and asks us to keep her posted. OK, so that didn’t go too badly. Maybe I was overreacting a bit earlier.

Hah! As if. On Tuesday, my dad calls and tells us they’ve changed their plane tickets from June 12 and are now coming here next week. What?! I keep waiting for him to say, “You got punk’d!” but it never comes. Of course, this sends Jessie into panic mode. I’ve told her time and time again, ain’t nobody know my momma like I do. This is what she gets for not listening to me.

Not that she nor I have anything against my parents, but can anyone really stand having their parents stay for two months in a small, cramped apartment? I tell her I’ll take care of things and call back my parents.

I try to convince my dad that perhaps it’s best not to jump to a decision so early. After all, Jessie has another doctor’s appointment next Tuesday, and perhaps we’ll get some good news. Then, they wouldn’t have to come early. If they came early, it would just put more pressure on Jessie to do something about our breeched baby.

My dad says the reason they’re coming up really has to do with my mom getting a medical check-up here. I ask what’s wrong and he says that nothing is wrong. Well, if there’s nothing wrong, then there’s no rush to come up so early, right?

He finally admits that my mom has been having high blood pressure recently, but didn’t want to tell us because he didn’t want us to worry. They want to get the problem checked out quickly in case there’s something really wrong, and they feel having the tests done here would be more beneficial since the doctors would be speaking Chinese to them.

How interesting. I didn’t want to tell my parents about our breeched baby because I didn’t want them to worry. And they come right back and say that they didn’t want to tell us about my mom’s high blood pressure because they didn’t want us to worry.

I’m still trying to figure out if that’s a good thing or not. It’s good that we care enough not to want the other party to worry, but at the same time, it’s not good that we’re keeping things from each other. Sigh, life can be so complicated sometimes.

But always the one to look at the brighter side of things, I can’t wait to get all the goodies I ordered a month early! Christmas is coming again in May!

Diarrhea Woes

I have now had diarrhea for an unprecedented 3 weeks. I have gone to four different doctors on six separate occasions, with each one prescribing different medication, none of which have worked. All tests have come back clean. There’s nothing wrong with my body. Apparently running out of reasons, the last doctor said it might be stress-related (irritable bowel syndrome).

After he saw that the wife was pregnant, he asked if I was nervous or stressed out about being a father. Nervous? Stressed out? Me? Hah! I say, bring it! I’ve been doing nothing but preparing for this day for the past 8 months.

However, the doctor said it could be subconscious. I don’t really buy into that, but perhaps, just perhaps I could be doubting myself a bit. After all, being a father is a big deal. It’s easy for me to look at how other people are raising their kids and criticize their techniques, but it’s completely different to do it myself. Will I be able to handle the pressure? Will my kid turn out alright?

On a positive note though, I've managed to lose my gut and love handles without having to break into a sweat. Plus, I’ve been using this whole stress-related theory to my advantage with the wife. Now, whenever Jessie starts to nag me, I feign a cramp and claim she’s giving me too much stress and that I might have diarrhea if she doesn’t back off. Works like a charm!

Baby in Breech

This past Tuesday was Jessie’s 34^th week check-up. The baby’s head still hasn’t turned down. The doctor informed her that if the baby’s head still hasn’t turned down by her 36^th week check-up, there’s a good chance that they have to perform a C-section during her 38^th week. Apart from neither of us wanting a C-section, my parents would also miss being here during the birth, as their flight tickets aren’t until June 13^th.

This is my fault. I should have been more proactive and gone out to buy a flashlight and clothespins. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Who knows, maybe those wacky techniques might actually work. But others have told me to just let nature take its course. We shouldn’t try to force the baby to do anything she doesn’t want. Whatever will be, will be.

Today, Jessie decides she wants to go to another clinic to check on the status of the baby and see if the head’s turned down yet. Given that it’s been only 4 days since her last doctor’s visit, I highly doubt if anything’s changed. But she’s in a grumpy mood this morning and since I haven’t accompanied her to a check-up in awhile, I wisely keep my opinion to myself and decide I could use this opportunity to snap some pictures for keepsake memory. 

In the end, the doctor confirmed that Caitlyn’s head still hasn’t turned down yet. She’s a stubborn little booger, just like her mom and dad. 

In other news, I told my mom about the decision to name our baby, Caitlyn Olivia.

Me: We finally picked a name the baby. It’s Caitlyn Olivia Wu.
Mom: That’s a rather long name.
Me: Well, you don’t have to say the whole thing. You can just call her Caitlyn.
Mom: What does Caitlyn mean?
Me: It means pure.
Mom: What about Olivia?
Me: Elf army.
Mom: Wha-? What’s that?
Me: You know, long pointy ears? Bow and arrows?
Mom: I don’t understand.
Me: Never mind. Olivia means olive tree.
Mom: Why would you name a baby after a tree?

Looks like the name will take some getting used to for my mom.

It was Meant to Be

I just realized that our daughter's initials will be C.O.W. (Caitlyn Olivia Wu). This ties in perfectly with my cow theme! Or it could completely backfire and make her the butt of adolescent jokes. 

The Verdict's In

After months of deliberating, I was beginning to think that we might never have a name for our baby. However, a verdict has finally been reached. With three names (Rosalyn, Caitlyn, and Olivia) vying for the coveted spot, the wife ultimately picked Caitlyn as her final choice. And just as promised, I supported her on her decision. 

As a consolation prize, I was able to pick Olivia as the middle name. There’s no way I’m missing out on putting ‘elf army’ into our baby’s name!

One Ring to Rule Them All

Unsatisfied by recent name options I’ve given Jessie, I messaged her this morning and told her that I liked the name Olivia. She responds back and tells me that it is a cute name. A few minutes later, she asks what an elf army is. Elf army? What does Olivia and an elf army have to do with anything? Apparently a lot. 

It turns out that the name Olivia means "elf army." I don’t even know what to say about this except for the fact that it reeks of awesomeness! While most children’s names have ho-hum meanings such as ‘peace’ or ‘beauty’ or ‘flower blossom,’ I don’t think too many people can lay claim to their baby’s name meaning elf army and then proceed to give the other speechless parents a detailed rundown of the history of Middle-earth Elves, the many valiant battles they’ve fought, including the epic Battle of Helm’s Deep in The Lord of the Rings, and how our Elven daughter can kick any of their kids’ asses since she is more quick-footed and agile than the common man.  

 

And the topping on the cake is that our daughter’s middle name can be Arwen, in honor of Arwen Undómiel, the youngest child of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Liv Tyler? Hugo Weaving?