Stop Asking If I’ve Had That Baby Yet!

Dear Loved Ones, Yes I’m the Most Pregnant Any Human Female Has Ever Been. While you patiently wait for that cute baby to come out of me, here are a few friendly reminders ~

Don’t Ask Me If I’ve Had The Baby Yet. If you ask me again, you will be publicly shamed. And I will direct you here –

Do Support The Release of My LOVE Hormones I’ve read a lot about it, and I’ve come to realize that having a baby has a lot in common with making a baby. At least on the hormonal level. What does this mean to you? Well Uncle Jack, as much as I think your jokes are funny, I’m not going to invite you to my romantic anniversary dinner, or into my bedroom afterwards. Labor involves the same hormones as making love, so I’m gonna need to set the mood to progress in peace … dim lights, candles, a Jacuzzi tub, and maybe if my husband is lucky, some Phil Collins. If you weren’t in the room when the baby was made, don’t be offended if you’re not invited into the room when the baby is had.

Don’t Hang Out at the Hospital. I love you and know you love me, but please don’t give me performance anxiety by sitting in the hospital waiting room while I try to let a seven lb-plus human being descend through my birth canal. Have you ever tried pooping in a public restroom? Ok then, having a baby is even more elaborate than that. And requires my undivided attention.

THIS INCLUDES NO TEXTING! STOP TEXTING ME! Do Bring My Hubby Snacks. If you want to help us while I’m in labor, please bring the following to the hospital and hand it to our nurse:

  • A ginormous sandwich (from Jimmy’s if you happen to live in Dallas like we do)
  • Some chips, candy bars, trail mix, and beef jerky (enough to last the next 72 hours I will be in labor, to prevent my husband from getting cranky from low blood sugar)
  • A pack of breath mints (for my husband after he eats that disgusting sandwich)
  • A venti caramel latte for my doula
  • A venti mocha latte for my nurse
  • Mango sorbet for me (its considered a clear fluid. Hospital jello = no, no, no)

Don’t Come to the Front Nurse’s Station and Ask If I’ve Had the Baby Yet. They’re not allowed to tell you. It’s called HIPAA.

Do Tell Me I Can Do It. Not how I should do it. Just — THAT. I. CAN.    Do Feel Confident Knowing as Soon as I Give Birth to a Tiny Human, I Will Let You Know. It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever do in my life. Don’t you think I’ll brag about it the first chance I get?

Do Come Visit Me After I Have the Baby, But Don’t Expect To Hold Her Right Away. She needs to smell me and touch me and hopefully get her first latch. You will have a lifetime to hug her and tell her how beautiful she is, and how much she looks like you.

Don’t Be Offended When You See My Boobs. I don’t care if you don’t. Get used to it by the way … all of my public appearances in the near future will involve more boob than an episode of the Kardashians.

Do Bring Me a Pizza. A large one, that I’m planning on eating myself. And a bacon cheeseburger with a chocolate milkshake. Love you & thanks in advance!

~ Your Pregnant Friend/Daughter/Sister/Cousin

Top Image Source: Shook Photo 

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