An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

When? When? When?

No, I haven’t given birth to this baby yet, but if you could call my house and ask me about it, like every member of my immediate family and every member of my extended family, all 87 of them, that might make me feel more adequate because at this point I’m obviously doing something wrong. Other women deliver their babies early. What the hell is wrong with me? WHY AM I NOT IN LABOR ALREADY??

I’m beginning to think that the sac holding the baby is made of an impenetrable material, a special Hamilton blend of steel, teflon, and vacuum-sealed plastic. My sister had five kids and her water never broke, and my mother carried me for an entire FOUR weeks after I was due, and her water never broke. So I’ve come to terms with the fact that my water isn’t going to break, but I’m a little worried about what’s going to happen in the delivery room when my doctor realizes that the standard hook they use to break a woman’s water just isn’t going to work on me. I think one of the last things a woman wants to hear when she’s sprawled naked on the birthing table is, “Bring me a bigger hook.”

Last Thursday night we got to take a look at the water breaking hook, along with the GIGANTIC catheter and GIGANTIC IV bag they hook up to the woman when she’s giving birth. We’ve been attending a birthing class being given by the hospital where I’ll be delivering the baby, and last week was the week we learned about all the equipment, including the GIGANTIC epidural needle and the GIGANTIC heart-beat monitor they stick up the coochie and attach to the baby’s head. I think the whole purpose of the class is to scare the living shit out of expectant parents because they are constantly showing us videos of women screaming during labor or saying things like, “THAT doesn’t look like a baby!”

The woman teaching the class has never had a baby, and she openly scolded me and Jon when we shouted out, “Cigars!” in response to the question What should you bring with you to the hospital? I’m certain she was looking for a more obvious answer, like The Book of Mormon or an extra set of Heavenly Underwear, two VERY important items in a birthing plan, right up there with tequila and porn, if you ask me. I think I may have crossed the line when earlier this week during a discussion about the pros and cons of breastfeeding I suggested that one of the advantages of formula feeding was being able to get back to my rock and roll lifestyle. You’ve never seen a more frightened group of pregnant women, many of them obviously terrified that their child would one day encounter my child and be introduced to the evils of coffee and MTV.

Right now I don’t know if I’m experiencing more anxiety over when I’m going to go into labor or what GIGANTIC piece of equipment they are going to stick up my naked parts or the fact that they are going to let me and my husband walk out of that hospital with that baby. How can we possibly be good parents when we drink fuckloads of coffee and are both THIS excited about the new season of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge?

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Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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