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"As for me, I'll take one baby marinated in a dish please"

The baby monster

For those of you who don't believe, I am here to tell you that baby monsters do exist and I have seen one with my very own eyes. In fact, not only have I seen one, I have shared very close quarters with one. Was I scared? A little. However, throughout my interactions with this creature I have learned that while it is impossible to tame this wild beast, it is possible to calm it down every so often.

Here is the description for everybody to look out for:

6'1", brown hair, medium build, and a nice smile. One can find the baby monster either at work, on the golf course, watching football, or checking his fantasy football team somewhat neurotically.


One of the two of these guys just might be the baby monster....








There are several qualifications that go into earning the title of baby monster and here they are in no particular order:

-An Amazon wish list spanning over 12 large-ticket-items

-A memorization of every safety statistic on all major baby items including; cribs, bouncers, high chairs, and "Pack n' Plays".

-A tutorial for yours truly with pictures included, referencing the above baby items in order to ensure a competent wife and baby momma.

-An impulse to buy the number one rated bouncer (both portable and plug-in) as well as the number one rated crib regardless of the price tag.

-A constant reference to "styling the baby out."

-Cleaning up, re-arranging the house, and creating a perfect baby room all without my asking or help.

-Setting up both bouncers and the crib without any prompting, while still completely ignoring my yearlong request to fix the entry closet door.

-Going to Baby's R Us and Target to find a shower gift for Ben's "sista from another mista" and having him say "I'm ecstatic. All the stuff I've seen online is finally coming to life". And "Don't you love the Snuggabunny? Feel it. It's so soft."

.....But actually, I would take a baby monster any day. Not only do they make sure the baby will be cared for, they also take care of sickies who are glued to the couch by doing all the day-to-day stuff and not complaining about a thing.

So for all who are worried, my advice is to bring on the monsters!

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What do you mean it's not all about ME?

I just realized I haven't even posted anything about the baby or my first ultrasound. All of my posts are conveniently about ME!! How I feel, what I am doing, my opinions, etc. Can I blame it on the fact that infertility breeds a sense of selfishness? Probably not.

Anyway, this post was going to be all about the baby fetus, who is almost officially 10 weeks old. I even spent the morning (the little part that I wasn't on the couch), looking for my first ultrasound. But to my dismay, I think it is gone. Lost to the clutches of rapid house cleaning. At this very moment it might be turning into an organic restaurant menu, or maybe an employee handbook make out of 75 percent recycled material. Regardless of what has become of it, I no longer have it.

In the past, I would have never acknowledged this mishap and instead gone to the internet and scooped an ultrasound off Google images like the one below.




And then I would have added the caption "Baby Hummel."



Because truth be told, I couldn't pick our baby out of an ultrasound line up if my life depended on it. And the above ultrasound looks as good as any, probably, including mine. And if I couldn't pick the baby out, nobody else would be able to either.... Except for the fact that I believe the picture I posted says it is Heather's baby from AZ Women's Clinic. Not Krista's baby from PV OBGYN. Oh well, can't sweat the small stuff.

This is not the first time I have used Google images to cover for me when I have failed to find a critical picture. The last time this happened was when I lost my dog, Kona, while she was chasing rabbits. I couldn't find any pictures of her in her adult life so I took to Google images to find a similar looking picture. Judge for yourself the similarities:

This is the actual "lost sign" I used with the impostor Kona.


The real Kona











Not bad for an internet look-alike right?

Not only did we find her (although, not through the posters but rather Craigslist), two little girls recognized her and called her by name the next time I had her on a walk. All thanks to Google images. And now, thanks to that incident, I have so many of pictures of Kona in her adult life, that I will never have to use an impostor if something similar should ever occur again.

As far as the ultrasound picture, my doctor hopefully has another copy that she can scan for me. At which time I will compare it to the one above to see how well my maternal instincts are kicking in.

But if she doesn't, I will Photoshop the above ultrasound to say "Hummel, Krista, PV OBGYN" and put it in the baby book hoping none will be any the wiser.

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Where have you been the last few weeks?

There is a very simple explanation for where I have been the last few weeks. I have been on the couch. I have, in fact, spent so much time on the couch, that I have created a permanent indentation in one of the seat cushions. I will occasionally change my position on the couch to obtain a higher level of comfort, but other then going to bed, going to work, going to the bathroom, or throwing up in the bathroom, I have not really left the couch. I have thought about writing in the blog numerous times, but then a wave of nausea overwhelms me and I sit back and watch another re-run of “Man vs. Food”, or “Dual Survivor.” I think I have even memorized entire episodes. Have no fear, if I ever become stuck in the African jungle, I might die of toxic water, hippos, poisonous spiders, or dehydration, but Cody Lundine showed me how to make an awesome floating boat made out of jungle grasses, so I might just make it a couple miles longer. Although I couldn’t promise those couple miles would be in the right direction.

Actually, I have already told Ben that if I were to ever become lost in an unpopulated area, he should grieve and move on. No amount of Dual Survivor could save me, and that I am sure of.

Anyway, I have a sneaking suspicion that my misery and exhaustion is directly correlated to how awesome I was telling people I was feeling for the first 7 weeks.

Typical conversation:

Person: How are you feeling?

Me: Kind of tired, but other than that great! It’s like I almost want more symptoms because I feel so good right now. I feel nothing but good (good natured and blissful laugh).

Person: That’s great. You are one of the lucky ones…

Me: I guess so. Like I said before, I feel so good, it almost worries me. Ha Ha. I almost don’t want to be one of the lucky ones so I know everything is going ok in there. Ha Ha.

End conversation

And here is my lesson for the day: Be careful what you wish for, because it might just come true. Reading those ha ha’s above irritates me because I was the one making those cackles and actually wishing to be sick. I wish the Krista of old could have met the Krista of new. It would have shut her up in a second.

Anyway, I hope to be posting more frequently in the next few weeks and throwing up a lot less. But until then, you can find me sipping on ginger water and eating goldfish on the couch in front of my TV.

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