So the Orgasmic Birth videos that we watched in class? Did not seem to me that anyone was having an orgasm. Not that I am certified in any shape, way, or form in judging when, indeed, someone is having an orgasm, but I’m enough of a field enthusiast that I think I could pick one out.
These just looked like your garden variety, natural child births. Sort of a let down. It appears I will not be writhing in ecstasy while I deliver Mavbling without the help of pain medications. I did, however, hear a lovely term that I want to share with all of you: Ring of Fire. No, it’s not a Johnny Cash song, nor is it a circle of oceanic volcanoes in the Pacific Rim. Rather, it’s the phrase used for when your vagina unhinges like the jaw of a snake and the baby’s head starts crowning.
Apparently, it hurts like a bitch. Can’t wait.
As of tomorrow, I have six weeks left until my official due date. I would like to think that to this point, I have been a pretty cool pregnant chick. I have gone out, drove all my drunk ass friends around, stayed cheerful and active, healthy, happy, optimistic. I would like to think that I have made pregnancy seem easy. Fun, even.
And I am doing my best to maintain my cheerful façade. Even though. Even though I want to stuff my face with fried cheese products dipped in ranch while someone rubs my feet. Even though I have peed twice already in the past 40 minutes. Even though I just want to go to sleep for 14 hours, but can only actually sleep 4 hours at a time. Even though I feel like a walking hippo. Even though I can no longer bend down to get something I drop. Which I do about every 15 minutes, because I now have the grace of a drunken, three-legged elephant.
I am determined to smile through the rest of this pregnancy, and labor, and delivery. Right up until the Ring of Fire. At that point, I am giving myself permission to scream, cry, hit people, and duct tape my bottle of Captain Morgan Private Stock I have been hoarding directly to my face.
Speaking of Fire! That makes me think of red. And that makes me think of an ongoing argument I have been having with Mavrick. I am convinced we are having a little ginger baby. I was born with red hair, and he has plenty of glints of red in his. Everyone knows that two people with red-headed tendencies are going to produce a red-headed baby.
Ginger baby or no, I will tell you this. We are going to have the cutiest, patootiest baby in the WORLD. I present to you EVIDENCE. Mine and Mavrick’s baby pics. The cute. It hurts, doesn’t it?