Mona is very pregnant. (I know, one is either pregnant or not, but she is right at the end and it’s the first thing you notice about her) She called me the other night with exciting news. “I am feeling pleasure in my tummy,” she told me.
“Uh, good. I guess,” I said. I thought about it. “Do you mean contractions?”
“Yes,” she said.
But it wasn’t quite contractions, since she wasn’t in labour. Donn was the one who figured it out. She meant pressure.
Nonetheless, I am calling contractions “pleasures” from now on.
***
That was last week. She had a c-section scheduled for Sunday morning at 8 a.m. at a hospital clear across town. She had to be there by 5, and she asked me if I’d bring her mother and her 12 y/o twins to the hospital a little before 8. So I did. We were there all day, till after 7.
Mona told me about her previous c-sections, in Baghdad, where they made her “sleepover”–in other words, gave her a full anesthesia. She was scared to experience the American version, where they only knock you out from the waist down and put up a curtain to block your view. But, she told me later, relieved and happy, that the American version was “too much better, too much easier.” (Her English is excellent, overall, and her few mistakes charming)
The baby is adorable. She has a cleft chin, a dimple, and enormous black eyes like her father’s and older sisters’. She has a lovely round head and tons of silky black hair. I got to hold her a lot in the afternoon, and she gave me lots of those squinty suspicious looks newborns give you, where they squinch their eyes barely open and look at you sideways, obviously thinking, “Who are you and where are we?” I love babies, especially when I don’t have to sleep in the same room as they’re in.
At one point they shooed us all out of the room. Mona’s mum is elderly and has knee pain and a hard time walking and getting out of chairs. I carried a bunch of stuff and herded us all down the hall. We spent some time in a family waiting area before heading down to the cafeteria for some coffee. Again, between the elevator and several long hallways, this took some time. And then I realized I’d inadvertently left my purse in the waiting area.
I called security and they told me they had it, brought it to me. It didn’t take me long to realize my iTouch was gone. It took me longer to realize my camera was gone (I thought I’d left it in the room). It took me till the next morning to realize that the tickets to the midnight opening of the new Batman movie, Elliot’s birthday present, were also gone.
I called security and reported these things missing. I called the police and made a report. I described my things, both to the security guard and the policewoman. “My iTouch is silver, no case, and it has an inscription,” I told them. “What does it say?” they both asked.
Why do husbands always seem to enjoy doing things that will embarrass their wives? You can’t tell me men ever really grow up! I’m sure many of us have our own stories, which I’m looking forward to reading in comments. Just tonight, I was telling a friend of mine, who is an elementary school principal, about this. She told me what her iTouch says. “TW is HOT!” (Her initials are TW. Although it has her full name, which I don’t feel like sharing with all of you. Nothing personal.)
My (former) iTouch says, on the back, “Wild Thing.” We can’t remember if it goes on to say “I love you” or “You move me.” I told this to the security guard. “Uh, let’s just assume that’s from Maurice Sendak’s children’s book,” she said drily. When I told the policewoman, I was better prepared. “Husband’s a Hendrix fan,” I muttered shame-facedly. “Ah,” she said noncommittally.
Mona’s family was very sorry about my loss (as am I!). Donn went ahead and cancelled all our credit cards anyway, even though they weren’t missing, since each item taken was in a different area of the purse and the thief obviously took his/her time going through it, deciding what was of interest. Maybe s/he wrote down the numbers and left the actual card, hoping to surprise us later, Donn thought. (He’s naturally suspicious and often right) So we have no credit or debit cards for 10 days.
That was Sunday. On Monday, my computer went out. Donn’s hopeful that he can fix it, but it won’t even give me the tiniest little blue light to show me it’s trying. I’m typing on the kids’ laptop, which someone recently gave us. He built it himself. It runs Linix. I am not complaining in any way; I am very thankful for it, although if I was going to complain I would point out that the mouse pad is very squirrelly and I am recomposing this post, after it lost it even though I had saved it. But I miss my laptop. No I hadn’t done a back-up recently. Even more photos will be gone.
I am expecting my car to break down tomorrow or possibly the day after. I’ll let you know.
Although I don’t expect to replace these things anytime soon, I am doing okay. After all, in the larger scheme of things, these are infinitesimal. The iTouch was already, in this strange world we live in, practically obsolete, although I liked it just fine. The camera had pictures on it that I’m sad to lose, but I’ve lost pictures before and I know I’ll forget about them soon. The baby is healthy and lovely, and her mother was back in full hostess mode by Monday afternoon, telling ME to sit down when I first walked into the room. (Me: No, you sit down. You’re the one recovering from major abdominal surgery!)
They come home tomorrow. Today I took grape leaves to Fiona, who lives in the same apartment complex, so that she could cook them dolma to celebrate their first day home, to give Mona a break. “You come here at 1 to pick up your dolma,” she told me. I don’t know why I’m getting dolma too, but I do know it will be a great addition to the all-American hot dogs and hamburgers we’ll be eating with friends tomorrow evening.
10 comments
July 4, 2012 at 12:48 am
Megan S.
Ugh! I am SO sorry! I had a pity party for my own recent stolen items. Those are only fun for a little while. So, In the midst of it I decided to have a Gratitude Party instead. I started writing down things I was thankful for and it really helped. It’s taking me time to recover from being stolen from, in our home no less, but I find it becomes smaller when I shift my thoughts to thankful things. I see you are doing just that as well. You are so blessed with quirky, generous Arab friends and others. I hope it helps ease the loss of your things. xx, M
July 4, 2012 at 12:51 am
Loretta Bayley
So sorry for all the trials of your week! But you exemplify a sermon I heard Sunday. The pastor said the antedote for entitlement is gratitude. You warm my heart with yours. ❤ You're who I want to be when I grow up. Have a happy 4th!!
July 4, 2012 at 7:25 am
Nicole
WILD THING!
July 4, 2012 at 11:57 pm
Annie Wald
Lesson learned! ‘m not letting Jack near my itouch…
July 5, 2012 at 8:19 am
LIB
SOOOOO sorry! Being stolen from is so awful. It’s not just the missing things–it’s the feeling of being violated.
I do think the ‘Wild Thing’ story is pretty cute, though!
July 5, 2012 at 12:17 pm
Rachel
OH NO!!! So sorry! That really stinks. 😦
July 5, 2012 at 6:12 pm
planetnomad
Annie, it was already too late by the time I got it–it was my Christmas present a few years ago.
July 5, 2012 at 6:24 pm
Maddy
Oh my! It never even occurred to me to get my iphone personalized. Likewise mine is ancient and would be no great loss in the scheme of things. I sympathize with the credit card nightmare and the ten days wait. Suddenly makes you [me] realize how reliant I’ve become. Glad you’re surfing the waves.
July 7, 2012 at 5:26 pm
Jennifer Wylie Donovan
I’m sorry you lost your stuff. I really hate that people are so dishonest! It wouldn’t even occur to me to take something that I found. I guess they were somewhat nice thieves, for giving your purse back, but how can they live with themselves?
The same thing happened to my ipod touch. Yes, I left it on a plane, but someone — be it a fellow passenger or airline employee — decided to keep it instead of trying to get it back to the owner. 😦
July 8, 2012 at 11:00 pm
Nan | wrathofmom.blogspot.ca
I am right this very second doing a back up of my computer hard drive. I’ve been meaning too, but your post convinced me to stop procrastinating.
I once went through my husband’s agenda — from work — and put in notes like “Set alarm early and get it on with the missus before work” and “Contact photographer about getting boudoir shots taken so I can surprise Nan for our wedding anniversary” and “come home early for some afternoon delight.”
I thought it was funny.
So did his coworkers when he left it open on his desk during a staff meeting and they all read it.
Oops.