Packing the bag. is the source of all that is pregnancy.  Babycenter is also very pushy.  Since week 4 of my pregnancy, they’ve been sending me emails about what to do/not to do during my pregnancy.  Some stuff I agree with, like don’t consume alcohol, touch reptiles, or do street drugs.  Alright, babycenter.  I’m not a fan of those last two anyway, so I’ll agree with you there.  But then they’re also telling me things like: take weekly baby bump photos and lay down and just enjoy being pregnant!  And thats when I realize that babycenter was clearly written by a man.  Or a 90 year old woman who has grown senile and forgotten what being pregnant is like past 25 weeks.  No one wants to see my “bump” at this point.  Baby B has dropped into my hips, meaning there’s literally a baby’s head in between my hip bones, making me look about as wide as a semi truck with an over sized load.

Sexy.  I know.
But now babycenter is getting all up in my business.  They’ve been demanding I start packing my hospital bag and get the nursery ready for Baby B.  Look, babycenter.  I’ve got a 20 month old toddler who constantly makes my house look like this:
See that blur?  
That’s my son. 
Running to go find something else to destroy.  
Like some one’s soul.  (Probably mine.)
I am putting off setting anything up for this baby until the absolute last minute.  Because I know the moment I do, that blur is going to be all over it and tear it apart with his tiny, sticky hands.
Then they want me to pack for the hospital.  Which, I actually entertained them, I was like “Alright, babycenter.  What exactly do you want me to pack?”  And opened their link to the packing list.  Here’s the list.
As I read this list I thought to myself, seriously?  A birth plan?  A bathing suit?  Snacks for your husband?  Relaxation items?  And that’s when I realized that this truly was written by someone who CLEARLY hasn’t had a baby.
First off, a birth plan?  I guess if I wanted to set myself up for disappointment I could write a birth plan.  I personally, don’t think that writing anything down on a piece of paper will make that thing happen the way I plan.  And if it does, then I’m going to just go ahead and write “I’M A MILLIONAIRE!” 20 times.  I would say going in with no expectations is probably the best route.  I actually wish that I had gone in with the worst case scenario in my mind “Alright, I’m in labor. I’m going to labor for 58 hours, then have an emergency c-section.  And die.”  That way when I ended up not dying, and not having surgery, I could have been like “Well, that wasn’t so bad! I’m not dead!”  But instead I went in with the expectation that I would be in labor for hours and would have time for an epidural.  Instead I showed up to the hospital, got sent to walk around the hospital for an hour and by the time I got back 45 minutes later I was about to have Little S.  There wasn’t even time to call my OB, they literally pulled a doctor out of the hallway to deliver him.  So no, babycenter.  I will NOT be packing a birth plan.  My birth plan is to have a healthy baby.  And not die.
A bathing suit.  Seriously, this was on the list.  “If you want to take a bath or a shower during labor, you may want your partner to get in with you for support or for a back rub,” babycenter claims.  Now, I love me some back rubs.  I get them every night from Big S, but the last thing I wanted when I was in labor was for Big S to touch me in any way, shape or form.  There will be no showering together or back rubs.  Labor is not a sexy experience.  There will be no touching whatsoever unless its me giving Big S a swift kick to the knee cap.  It’s all that touching that got me in this predicament in the first place, babycenter!  Geez.
Snacks for your husband.  
Just no, babycenter.  If I cannot eat, Big S cannot eat.  And if he even tries to eat in front of me, while denying my hugely pregnant self who wants nothing more than a triple chocolate cupcake, I will promptly rip that granola bar/double cheeseburger/Doritos bag out of his hand and shove it into my IV fluid bag.
My favorite was their suggestions of relaxation items.  “Here are some possibilities: your own pillow (use a patterned or colorful pillowcase so it doesn’t get mixed up with the hospital’s pillows), music and something to play it on, a picture of someone or something you love, anything you find reassuring.” Yes, bring your nice clean pillow into the germ ridden hospital so you can just imagine how many diseases your absolute favorite pillow is picking up.  Then make sure your bring your boom box with your cassette of “Who Let the Dogs Out”, “Macarana” and “My Heart Will Go On” on a rotating, repeating schedule for all the other pregnant woman to hear.  A picture of something I love?  Well, good thing I ALWAYS keep a framed picture of chocolate cheesecake in my purse.  I totally bet that’ll help getting through a small child making its way through my body…  And anything I find reassuring?  The only thing I could have found reassuring at that point was my period to know that I wasn’t going to have to do it all over again. 

Alright, alright, he was worth it…

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