The Great Muffin Craving of 2012

Like Michael Scott, I’m not superstitious but I’m a little stitious. When my wife and I were expecting D1, both our moms unleashed a slew of Korean pregnancy superstitions on us. Three of them they stated repeatedly

1. If the pregnant mom doesn’t get the food she’s craving, the baby’s eyes will be crooked
2. Post-birth, the mom has to have a diet subsisting of seaweed soup (miyeok guk 미역국)
3. Post-birth, the mom has to be kept warm at all times to prevent achy joints and arthritis later in life

The last one, my wife and I saw firsthand when we visited my cousin who had given birth in the summer, shortly after we found out we were expecting. It was a sweltering, humid day in Maryland (which is pretty much every day in late-July to early-August around here) and the house was horribly uncomfortable – we figured the air conditioning was broken. After greeting us, my cousin went to her room to try and get some rest on her bed. Her mom sees her and JUMPS up in shock and runs over to her. Alarmed, we followed behind her. She grabs a damyo (a thick, fuzzy blanket Koreans use in the winter) (It’s probably not spelled that way commonly, but damyo is funnier in my mind) and throws it on my cousin. It also turns out that the A/C wasn’t broken; my aunt wouldn’t allow it to be turned on. My mom nodded approvingly.

Most pregnancy superstitions (how the woman is carrying the baby determines the sex, for example) seem silly. But the first Korean pregnancy superstition I listed above? I followed that without fail. Not because I loved my unborn child (which I did); but because I love food. So not only does it win me Good Husband points, I also get to eat food.

For example, this past weekend, my wife was craving Bon Chon chicken. It’s a 40 minute drive. I definitely earned some Good Husband points for that one. Plus, I LOVE Bon Chon. This is the rare win-win for a husband. And yes, I bought 2 large orders just in case she wouldn’t leave any leftovers she was really hungry*.

So yesterday, we were heading to our car after doing some shopping at Sam’s Club and my wife says, “I’m craving a chocolate muffin.” If you know my wife, you know that she’s a fairly healthy eater. In fact, you could argue that if it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t eat junk food at all. And you’d win that argument handily. She even had a plan: rather than buying 4 massive chocolate muffins they have available at Sam’s, she decided we’d go to Panera and get one. Panera-lover that I am, I had no problem with this.

Except, Panera had no chocolate muffins.

She suggested we try Dunkin Donuts.

Alas. They only had chocolate chip muffins (horrible first world problem, no?).

The rain began pouring down. If you know Maryland drivers, you know that driving ability is inversely proportional with precipitation.

I love my chocolate muffin kid; I will not be deterred.

We tried another store. No luck.

My wife said, “Let’s just go home…”

I love my chocolate muffin kid; I will not be deterred.

We drove to another county** to a Giant. The rain was still pouring and I couldn’t find a close parking spot – I hadn’t planned for rain so I was wearing my regular shoes.

I love my chocolate muffin kid; I will not be deterred.

I told my wife to wait in the car – she’s at the waddling phase (those were her words, not mine).

I ran in and headed toward the bakery. There was an older lady (all of my grocery store confrontations tend to be with older ladies for some reason) leisurely perusing the baked goods with a tong in her hand. GASP there was only one chocolate muffin left and the old lady was using the only pair of tongs. I may or may not have very gently nudged her aside and grabbed the muffin with my bare hand. Pretty sure she looked at me with one of those, “WHY I NEVER…”

I love my chocolate muffin kid; I will not be deterred.

Like a proud hunter returning home with a prized game, I returned to our vehicle triumphant.

So there you go, kiddo – this is how much daddy loves chocolate muffins you.

And yes, she did share some of the muffin with me. Even a piece of the top. Now that’s love.

What about you? What pregnancy superstitions did your parents tell you? Did you have any cravings during pregnancy?

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* Thankfully, my wife will usually share at least a bite of what I bring back for her. Usually.

** We live on the county border. Very convenient for when I want to make blog posts sound more dramatic.

A Longing Fulfilled

Part 1 is here if you missed it yesterday.

While my wife took care of the copay, I took the referral for the sonogram and hurriedly called the closest locations, hoping that we could get squeezed in that evening even though it was already 4:58pm. The first location I called led me through some menus and then to the prerecorded message: “We’re sorry. The office is now closed. Our normal business hours are 8am to 5pm Monday throu….” I hung up and hurriedly called the second location. Same message. ARGH! At this point, I’m panicking more than a little. I called the third location and…YES! A human! While they couldn’t see us that evening, she scheduled us for the very first appointment available the next day at 12:45pm. The drive home was filled with anxiety.

I always have a lot to say but I’ve learned over two pregnancies that it’s best for a man to keep his mouth shut whenever it comes to anything regarding pregnancy. Telling a woman, “WOW! I’ve seen my fair share of pregnant women but you are PREG NANT!” will get you slapped and ensure you won’t be getting any action in the foreseeable future; telling a woman the wrong thing in a situation like this could wound her for the foreseeable future.

“Remember at the couples retreat a few weeks ago,” my wife began, “and how they prayed for all the pregnant women? I felt like a fraud because the other ladies were clearly pregnant. Maybe I imagined this whole thing? What if the baby’s gone?” Numerous other what if’s followed but for some reason, I was sure the baby was still in there. I placed my hand on my wife’s belly and reassured her, “It’s going to be ok.” What else could I say?

My wife texted a few ladies, one who went through numerous miscarriages. We got home and I told my mom the news. We agreed that we’d be praying. Hard.

The Bible says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” Our house had been on the market for a very long time. We got an offer in late September but the potential buyer flaked out. It looked like our home would never be sold. Finances were getting tight and living with my parents was challenging. To my wife, this just seemed like another case of hope being deferred.

The next morning, as we were getting ready for work, my mom pulls me aside and says, “You know you lost the baby because you told people too early, right?” Most Koreans I know are more than a littlestitious, and my mom is no different. Apparently, one of her friend’s daughters told people immediately after she got pregnant and she miscarried. For D1 and D2, we waited until the 1st trimester was over before making announcements; for this one, we announced it about a month and a half in.

After a half day of work, I picked my wife up and we headed to the radiologist. The way my wife was carrying that referral, you’d think it weighed a ton. She also had to pee really bad. As if it’s not enough that they insist your bladder be completely full, they then jab around your bladder with the vaginal ultrasound thing.

The technician inserted the probe and

Baby #3