the 29th week

The hub and I have been discussing all the things about baby that need to be discussed/bought/found/researched. So far we have figured out we still need to buy a diaper bag, a hamper for the baby's room, a baby sling, and I'm sure other things I haven't bothered to write down. We also need to tour/get on the waiting list of good daycares in the hopes that I will get employed after birth and need to use a daycare. We found the pediatrician (yay!) and signed up for birthing classes (yay!).

Lastly, we have been discussing the "birthing plan." I'm pretty sure it goes something like this: baby gets out through my bellybutton and it tickles! No, really. People are very quick to share their stories I don't need to hear. "My sister tore - 14 stitches!" "My best friend was paralyzed from the epidural." "A girl I work with had her baby all natural - and she was 12 pounds!" I've decided on my birthing plan. It will be one of three familiar options:

1. Romantic Comedy (rom-com) labor: I will scream at the hub for knocking me up in the first place. Extra points for foul language in PG-13 and up! I will have "sweaty" hair, but perfect make-up. Some obstacle will be in place - the hub can't find the hospital, I'm forced to ride a bike, or there's some horrible traffic jam and only one road to get to the hospital. Once getting to the hospital, I must confess multiple times to the hub that I can't do it. He'll pep talk me with exactly what gives me the will to live. Hilarity ensues! See "Father of the Bride Part II" and "Knocked Up"

2. Sit-Com labor: Pretty much follows the rom-com labor, but there's only 22 minutes for all the fun! Grunts instead of screaming. One must-have: birth in an elevator, accompanied by an unknown young guy who proves he has the strength to become the doctor his dad always wanted him to be. Of course, mere moments after giving birth, the doors work and the hub is standing there, ready to embrace mom and baby. Tears glisten. See Seventh Heaven, any episode of Friends for cheesiness.

3. Hall-Mark and/or Lifetime Movie and/or soap opera labor: soft light, breezy curtains of lace. Beyond the hospital room is the beautiful Pacific ocean. My private room is the size of a small hotel. There's no actual labor or delivery. Somehow the baby magically appears in my arms, I'm surrounded by fine white linens, lying in bed in a nightgown of the finest silk. No stains. The baby never cries. The hub floats into the room, we meet eyes, focus to the hub with a tear trickling down his stubble.