Pregnancy 101, Jeanne Garbarino

Pregnancy 101: The science behind the wand of destiny
By DXS Biology Editor Jeanne Garbarino


OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD


Over and over again, that was all I could say.  At the same time, I heard my husband on the other side of the bathroom door, in a very panicked voice asking, “Why are you saying oh my god? WHAY ARE YOU SAYING OH MY GOD?!?!” 

Though, he really knew why.

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Pregnancy 101: Fertilization is another way to come together
By DXS Biology Editor Jeanne Garbarino

It was September of 2006. Due to certain events taking place on a certain evening after a certain bottle (or two) of wine, my body was transformed into a human incubator. While I will not describe the events leading up to that very moment, I will dissect the way in which we propagate our species through a magnificent process called fertilization.


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Pregnancy 101: On the cervical mucus plug and why I've never been so happy to hold something so disgusting in my hand
By DXS Biology Editor Jeanne Garbarino

Like the eye of Sauron drawn to the One Ring, one cannot resist looking at the mucus plug.

June 3^rd, 2007 fell on a Sunday. I awoke that morning feeling disappointed that I was still pregnant. My due date had come and gone and, honestly, I was sick of being a human incubator. I had enough of the heartburn, involuntary peeing, and the overall beached-whale feeling. The baby in utero was resting comfortably on my sciatic nerve, and I could barely walk. And perhaps even more important was the fact that I just wanted to finally meet the child I had grown from just a few cells!


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Pregnancy 101: Peas made me puke, but not just in the morning

By DXS Biology Editor Jeanne Garbarino

Jeanne, hurling after detecting peas.

I was seven weeks deep when it hit me. Suddenly, I was in a chronic state of queasiness. Under most circumstances, I had it under control. Sure, I would gag every time I brushed my teeth, but (mostly) I could keep it all down. Then I went to my aunt Diane’s house for dinner.

Aunt Diane rolls with a crowd of self-made Italian chefs and, as a result, most of her cooking falls under the “rustic Italian” umbrella. It is not uncommon to see sitting in her cupboard a massive inventory of jarred plum tomatoes or for an entire section of her freezer to be dedicated to homemade vodka sauce, always frozen in those takeaway containers that originally brought us egg drop soup. Under normal circumstances, I’d be psyched to eat over.

I don’t recall the entire menu, but there is one side dish that has been forever burned into memory, and not in a good way.

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