Monday, January 10, 2005

Fear and Zombies

I came to a realization this weekend. Not really a profound one, but a realization, none the less. And it is this: Zombie movies are freakin' scary. It doesn't even matter if it is a parody of a zombie movie; if there is a zombie, it's scary.

We watched "Shaun of the Dead," a humorous British zombie flick, and I swear, I had bad zombie dreams for two nights. I just don't like the "we're trapped in this building, there are thousands of inhuman flesh-eaters stratching to get in, they may be slow-moving, but eventually there will too many to escape from, so we can keep pounding their brains in with cricket bats, but there's no real hope and oh yes, someone in our group might be turning into one" concept. It gives me the heebie jeebies.

A REALLY freakin' scary one is "28 Days Later." That one adds a new dimension to the zombie genre-- what if the zombies were fast-moving rage-filled maniacs? And you were in a coma when the whole thing went down, so when you woke up, the streets of London were deserted ? (except, of course, for the lightening speed zombies.) Bwa-hoo-hoo (that's the sound of a shiver running up my spine.)

Besides the heebie jeebies, not much else to report. Anna is still a wiggle worm in the evenings. On Saturday, I think that I actually saw a foot protruding from my stomach. Five weeks, people, five weeks. Yee-ark (that's the sound of excitement mixed with mind-numbing fear.)

I told my friend, Shelley, yesterday that I think every pregnant woman has a fear fixation on some part of the labor and delivery experience. For some, it's the pain. For some, it's the possibility of a c-section. One girl in my Childbirth class seemed fixated on not having an episiotomoy. She kept bringing it up over and over in class. The instructor finally told her that it was better than tearing, and she might welcome it when the time came. The girl did not look so sure. And I read this Jenny McCarthy pregnancy book a month or two ago (very funny, thank you, Jenny McCarthy) and her fear fixation was on accidentally pooping on the delivery table.

I think my fear fixation is the pushing element. ...but more than that, even. It's that I am going to be the only person in that room pushing a baby out. That sounds kind of dumb, but it's sort of like going up to solve a math problem on the school board (one of my worst childhood fears). I'm going to be the only person in that room sweating, pushing, grunting, tearing, crying, dripping, swearing, what have you. And there will be a small audience gathered around to watch/help. It will like solving the biggest fattest slimiest algebra equation of my life.

Yee-ark.

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