WhitneyTo Be or Not to Be a Mother -Part Two
November 8th 2006 20:26
Better late than never. The 20/20 colicky baby special finally aired. I have to admit it was kind of cool to see me and my family on primetime T.V. The special also included a follow-up by John Stossel and crew when Josh was three months old. This time he interviewed just me because my husband had to work that day. Abby, the producer was more than a little shocked by how big Josh had gotten. You see when they’d filmed him at six weeks he was still lagging the growth charts by a lot due to his premature birth but by three months he’d not only caught up he was leading the pack in height and weight. Basically, he’d gone from runt to bruiser and she was concerned that the audience wouldn’t believe he was only three months old now. So she had me squoosh him into a too small stretchie for the follow-up.
And what kind of feedback did we get after it aired? Well my husband became an overnight celebrity. He couldn’t ride the trains or subways without being stopped by someone who had seen the program. “How’s Josh doing?” they’d ask and he’d look at them as if they’d grown a third eye until they clued him in. He was definitely basking in his fifteen minutes.
I, on the other hand, breezed through the experience with my anonymity intact. Despite the fact that there was twice as much footage of me, not one person outside my family and friends seemed to recognize me. Or at least no one approached me, as they did my husband, which may have had something to do with telling John Stossel that yes there had been some days that I wanted to toss my infant son out the window. I know, I know, so not politically correct, but also so true.
Whereas my husband got comments of, “oh you looked so good. You’re so telegenic!” My loving family and friends wanted to know if I really wore that hideous flannel nightgown to bed on a regular basis and could that have been the reason I’d had trouble conceiving (it’s widely know that in the case of sperm, you have to get it up to give it up)?
By the time my son’s pediatrician brought up the granny nightgown I was ready for a change. I’d had enough colicky baby to last a lifetime. It was time to move on.
And what kind of feedback did we get after it aired? Well my husband became an overnight celebrity. He couldn’t ride the trains or subways without being stopped by someone who had seen the program. “How’s Josh doing?” they’d ask and he’d look at them as if they’d grown a third eye until they clued him in. He was definitely basking in his fifteen minutes.
I, on the other hand, breezed through the experience with my anonymity intact. Despite the fact that there was twice as much footage of me, not one person outside my family and friends seemed to recognize me. Or at least no one approached me, as they did my husband, which may have had something to do with telling John Stossel that yes there had been some days that I wanted to toss my infant son out the window. I know, I know, so not politically correct, but also so true.
Whereas my husband got comments of, “oh you looked so good. You’re so telegenic!” My loving family and friends wanted to know if I really wore that hideous flannel nightgown to bed on a regular basis and could that have been the reason I’d had trouble conceiving (it’s widely know that in the case of sperm, you have to get it up to give it up)?
By the time my son’s pediatrician brought up the granny nightgown I was ready for a change. I’d had enough colicky baby to last a lifetime. It was time to move on.
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