New Huffington Post Piece: Baby & Bridal Showers

I love a good shower. They are exactly the same format as kids' birthday parties, which is maybe why I like going to them so much.

Saturday Morning Photos

Even Old Man Peppe likes the snow.


Andre and Val are working on their relationship. Val is curious about him, but Andre hasn't mastered the art of petting gently. He is, however, very good at grabbing.

August Nights = Perfect Running Weather

I just got back from a 3.25 mile run in the East River Park on this perfectly humid August night. Hot by day = perfect running weather at night, especially along the water where there was a nice breeze and plenty of choppers taking off and landing. I was out there with lots of other people, mostly young men who work in finance and live in buildings such as The Rivergate and The Anthem. Ladies, if you're looking to pick up, the East River Park after 6:00 p.m. is the place to be. You're welcome.

I'm also beginning the to think that the creepy men who claim to be fishing along the river are really just checking out all the sweaty women running along the path. Not that I'll ever understand the attraction of watching women jog. Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

Somewhat related: This morning I opened my inbox and there was a weekly bulletin from Babycenter, advising me on what to expect from my two month old. Their e-mails are very helpful, but today there was a strange passage that I had to read out loud to make sure I was understanding it:

Congrats! You've made it to the two-month mark. If you haven't ventured out alone yet, it's probably time to give it a shot. It's healthy for you to take a break, and it's also good for baby to meet new people. Entrusting baby to someone else for the first time can be scary, so make sure you already know the caregiver.

Um, if you've gone two months and haven't left the house at all or by yourself, you may want to be checked for depression. I realize not everyone lives in Manhattan, where walking and getting out is necessary for basic day to day living, but wow. Are there really mothers out there who won't leave their kid with someone else...not even for an afternoon?

At one of the weddings a few weeks ago there was a couple that I've known since high school who have a little girl. The wedding was their first outing alone, in a year since the baby was born. As you all know, I leave the house on a daily basis and don't have an issue with leaving my kid with someone if it means I can hang out with other adults, and if I'm lucky, a bottle of wine. Maybe I'm being insensitive, but why on earth would you not want to go out on your own, sans baby? As long as the kid isn't living in a plastic bubble and being fed through a tube, surely a few hours away would do all parties involved a favor.

Who Says Recovering From A C-Section Is Hard?

Pauline and André, originally uploaded by thomasr9.

All I know is that I have The New York Times and the Weekend FT is get through while a 10 pound sack of sugar sleeps on my chest.

And people, where is the Bordeaux that I requested last week? I can imbibe now and would prefer something with a soft tannins and a strong finish.

Other advancements: I seem to be deflating enough that I can now wear my rings and not need lotion to get them on and off. Hooray for small victories.

Post-Baby Update!

I'm settling in well with Andre The Giant. He's on a steady routine of eat, sleep, poop, and he does it all like a champ.

Since Andre arrived via C-section I've been limited in what I can do around the house. I'm supposed to get up and move around, but not too much. I can take little walks to run errands or get fresh air. I can't pick up anything heavy and bending over is verboten until otherwise instructed. Anyone who knows me knows that I bumble and drop things, and TR has the pleasure of quite literally picking up after me.

The C-section wasn't planned, although I had been told it was a possibility since the boy was measuring large on sonograms. We induced early on the 18th, I sweated out contractions until I was 4 centimeters dialated, and then I asked for the big guns, the epidural.

You know how everyone has a friend of a friend whose epidural didn't work? I'm that person. The anesthesiologist put it in, and everything seemed fine. Then the room started getting warm for some reason, (broken thermostat?) and I began to sweat as the contractions got worse and worse.

Considering I had the epidural, or at least I thought I did, I shouldn't have felt anything. Somewhere around 6 centimeters dialated the contractions hit pioneer-woman, Little House on the Prairie, painful. My face was covered in cold compresses and I was clinging to the side of the bed when they peaked. My mom and TR looked on, unable to do anything, and also unfazed. This was childbirth! I had friends who told me they didn't feel anything in labor, just pressure, thanks to the wonders of the epidural. Why did it feel like Doc Baker was going to appear at any minute with tubs of boiling water and a stick to bite on?

A wise nurse named Mario came in and took a look at me. Sure enough, the epidural needle was not actually in my back. It slipped out when I started to sweat. I had gone 6 centimeters unmedicated, and they had to reinsert it while the contractions continued to rollick. Not cool. Try holding still while a needle is inserted into your spine and you're having a weapons-grade contraction. Mario triple taped the needle into my back, and everything calmed down, as much as it could when one is trying to deliver a baby that is nearly 10 pounds. Of course we tried to push a bit -- a bit being two hours -- but I was quickly wheeled into the OR for the C-section.

Interestingly, the bonehead doc who messed up the first epidural was not in the OR. I wonder if my OB/GYN told him to go hops. Mario took care of everything and was literally two feet away from me the whole time. He numbed me from the shoulders down, which is a bizarre feeling when you're wide awake. Even though I was a little cranky to the OR team, (it was 11:00 at night!) they're all Aces in my book.

Afterward, in recovery, I was given a morphine drip to take the sting off having major abdominal surgery. It worked great, and then somewhere around 6:00 a.m. I started to hallucinate and see orange Persian cats, a la Peppe, dashing around the room. That's when I stopped hitting the automatic drip button and asked the nurse for some Motrin instead.

Just a few snaps and then we can all move on, post-baby.

The only photo you will ever see of me sans make up and in my pajamas. Three days post delivery.


Dr. Yuri. Best. OB/GYN. Evs.


Everyone likes this pic, although I think it borders on shlock.


TR, learning the ropes of fatherhood. Next lesson: Open wallet, hand over cash.

TR and I went in for a full body sonogram of The Bean today. It took forever, but I'm happy to report that it has all its fingers and toes and all systems are very much a go in terms of its development. I still don't know what it is, but the technician does. She made me cover my eyes when she was taking photos of The Bean's goodies.

I'm still amazed that The Bean is in such great shape, especially since I didn't know I was pregnant until I was three months along. I was running all the time, having my way with the Bordeaux and chasing around town like a crazy person. I've read all these conception articles, which encourage women trying to eat right and relax, sleep normally and get into The Zone in order to conceive. They even encourage intimacy with your partner! Crazy! I did none of that. I ran on coffee and burgers then on empty. Life is funny, kiddos.



This photo freaks me out (in a good way!) because you can see the brain and the brain stem. The brain is quite large! That comes from my side of the family, of course.

A Nice New Year's Quote -- We're All Winners!

My OB/GYN has an odd habit of handing me copies of Conceive: Celebrating the Creation of Families whenever I go in for a check up. The magazine is mainly aimed at couples who are having issues conceiving, and there are articles inside about things like egg donation, surrogacy and ads for fertility clinics. (Conception doesn't seem to be my issue, Doc. I got that one down pat.)

The whole fertility industry has started to fascinate me, mainly because it's a curious overlap of science, big business and altruism. Fertility treatments are expensive, not covered by insurance and prey heavily on emotion, mainly women's. (I've heard brides say the same thing about the wedding industry and wedding gown shops.)

There was a nice quote inside the magazine about how we should all be happy in general, because we are, essentially, very lucky just to be around.

"I think we all need to be happy. We have all one the lottery. It is a scientific fact that it takes 250 sperm to fertilize an egg, and we were all the winning sperm." -- Dr. Neil Shulman.

Happy New Year! And quit all that moping.

Latest Huffington Post Piece: What Not To Say To A Newly Pregant Woman

Here is my latest column on The Huffington Post about what not to say to a newly pregnant woman. You'd be amzed at the things that come out of people's mouths.

Four Things Not To Say To A Newly Pregnant Woman

The Weekend Roundup: Babies And The Spotted Pig!

It's Sunday night and the heat seems to be on again in my apartment. It's been a busy few days, so let's see what I've been up to.

Every weekend starts with a pre-game shot. Here I am on Saturday before I hit the town.


Julie, who loves me even though she thinks I'm "odd." Bless her.


Peppe was not happy when the heat went out.


Sunday was a big eating day for me, and I'm not big on eating. I started the day with brunch with Cara, her husband and her husband's sister on the Upper West Side. After brunch Cara and I hung out with her amazing baby, Petra. Seriously, Petra is the kind of kid who makes me want to reproduce myself. Moreso than usual. That kid is an absolute joy. She never cries and is happy even when she's lying on her back and playing with her feet. Ah, to be young again...

Madonna And Child


Pauliney And Child?


I tried to smuggle Petra home, but she wouldn't fit in my bag. Rats!


Despite the large quantities of eggs I had at noon, I found myself at The Spotted Pig later that same night. Run, do not walk, to this restaurant, if only to taste their Champs, which is basically mashed potatoes, chive, nutmeg and a pound of melted butter.

Erin and I before consuming a vast amount of food.


How many eggs do you get with the Deviled Egg appetizer? One. But it is amazing.


This is Haddock Chowder. It will warm innards you never knew you had.


Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my food coma.

The 9 to 5

smoke in blue, originally uploaded by Idle Type.

For those of you who didn't already know, I got a new job. Even better, I'm already exerting my influence with a semi-daily feature called "Pauline's Web Picks." Be very afraid.

Also notable: The Cakes and Babies Blog. It's nothing but cakes and babies!