I can't wait to have babies

There are pregnant women all around me. The downside of this is that the bathrooms are always occupied…bladders the size of walnuts, these women have. The upside is that I look egoliciously slender in comparison. I can dig it. Too bad the human gestation period is only 9 months, I could really get used to this.

The other upside is that I get to learn from the choices that these women with child are making. Exhibit A: Prenatal Yoga. One of the first-time preggers that I know, Ms. Touch My Belly And I’ll Cut You, decided to step outside of her non-maternal, pragmatic box and try pre-natal yoga. Since making that decision, she’s spent every moment trying to get back into her box. It’s not that she can’t get into the yoga so much as she can’t get into the 30 minute segment preceding the yoga in which all the preggers in attendance sit in a circle to eat organic, vegan granola, watch their armpit hair grow, and talk about their feelings (particularly their feelings on their opinion that women who want epidurals are pussies).

Ms. Touch My Belly And I’ll Cut You called me up one afternoon to tell me about a particularly hairy session in which everyone in the circle had to discuss her birthing plan. This, for those of you who don’t know, is where you get to make a list of all the things you do and do not want going on during your laboring, ie:

- I would like to have an enema before pushing the baby out so that my child is not delivered into the curry I ate last night
- There is to be no medical student of any variety allowed anywhere near my snatch
- If, so help me GOD, anyone tries to comfort me with Kenny G, I will perform my OWN episiotomy to expedite things

…so on and so forth. Anyway, Ms. TMBAICY relayed that one of her classmates, Mrs. Clit, described a technique that really helped make the delivery of her first child sooo much more relaxing and “personal.” Apparently, Mr. and Mrs. Clit wanted the birth of their child “to be as intimate as the conception.” So, to facilitate this, during labor, Mr. Clit stimulated Mrs. Clit’s clit!! Just in case you missed that: HE STIMULATED HER CLITORIS DURING LABOR!!

Jesus, you can’t MAKE this stuff up!

All I have to will say, is that if Mrs. Clit was able to have this wish from her birthing plan fulfilled, I should have no problem getting unlimited crackers and pasteurized cheese in between my epidurally-attenuated contractions. And I will proudly proclaim this to my fellow pre-natal yoga classmates in between taking bites of my ham and cheese omelet and flashing them my freshly shaved armpits.

(Hopefully not anytime soon though.)