Cold Water

Oh MY. Thank you so much for all of your advice re: supplies, etc. etc. I … I think I have almost everything, although we’re running into a breast pump issue that will soon be resolved, but is the DIRECT RESULT of residing in a wee town with very few resources.

Other side effects include a desperate town-wide run to a variety of stores because I JUST NOW figured out that “newborn” is not the same size as “0-3 months” which is … well, I’m sorry, it’s ridiculous, is what it is, and I really hardly had any newborn-sized anything at all. And while I realize she’ll be a newborn for all of THREE WHOLE SECONDS, I have this irrational fear of drowning her in the wrong-sized onesie, resulting in a lifetime of trauma or, I don’t know, death by onesie. I wonder if you can sue Carter’s for that?

Anyway, we had our hospital tour on Saturday which was … well, not super-helpful, but somewhat necessary, if only to make sure we knew where we were going when the day inevitably comes, provided it’s not too late to change our minds. (Ha ha?) However, there were a few things I most definitely wish she had not mentioned, including, but not limited to:

- This is not usually a busy time of year, but this year, they are positively OVERRUN with births, followed by a lengthy statement wondering what could have been happening nine months ago to make people in such a babymaking mood. Maybe I’m merely immature, but you know, gross. Also, this might have been a fine thing to say, had it not been preceded by …

- “When we’re really busy, we have had to birth babies on these beds right here,” she said as she pointed to SEVERAL BEDS IN THE HALLWAY, that were like, THREE INCHES APART. Perhaps I, and all the other women who were getting it on nine months ago, will be able to squeeze each other’s hands during contractions as we pray that our beds don’t wheel into the visitor’s lounge.

- She walked us by a Mystery Room where women go to not really give birth but, uh, don’t actually have babies … or something. It was all very unclear. I hoped it was women on bedrest or monitoring, but it also could have been something much more … sad, and something I’d rather not think about. And also, if I get placed in the Sad Room of Mystery because they are overrun with birthing mothers, I will freak right the hell out, because I don’t want to be placed in the Room of Mystery and Doom. I don’t want to be doomed.

So basically, although I have no birth plan whatsoever, I am petrified of a) having the skinny doctor I hate be on call; b) giving birth in the Room of Doom; or c) giving birth in the hallway. This means that I will totally have the skinny doctor, followed by a brief stint in the hallway and THEN a move to the Room of Doom. Mark my words.

And here I was afraid the worst thing that could happen was that I’d be stuck in the waterbirth room where the tub was Large and Unwieldy and also, would leave me all naked in the middle of a room without the protection of a bed or a bathroom. (I don’t know why those two things make me feel safer. I don’t. I mean, it’s not like either of them COVER YOUR VAGINA FROM THE MASSES.)

(Also, this reminds me of the birth video they showed us in class where Carl, a man right out of the streets of Revere, no lie, hops in the shower with his ’80s-haired wife while she voice-overs that “they shoulda brought Cahl a bathin’ suit!” And HA HA, guess what’s on our hospital’s recommended packing list? A BATHING SUIT FOR THE PARTNER. Which, I don’t know why, kills me.)

At any rate, I’m sure there was something more interesting and non-self centered or pregnancy related that I intended to go on about, but I’ve completely forgotten and it’s clearly time to take a bath and/or panic about drowning my kid in a footed pajama set or something.

I will say that I will likely post a picture or two tomorrow after I take them (oh, and after our final birthing class where she will doubtless freak us out about postpartum depression) because MY GOD, the belly has taken over, and today when I hit the health food store, the woman justifiably asked if I was due five minutes ago. Because yes, I will finally admit, it looks that way at 36 and a half weeks.

And hey, what’s the real deal on baby wipes? Are they REALLY not flushable? Because COME ON.

Happy Tuesday!

*Reindeer Section. Man, my music selections have gone stale since I stopped having any time to find anything new.

41 comments February 9th, 2009