If you follow me on Facebook, then you’ve already read about how my sweet children took their first lesson on what contractions actually are. We take most events that come up in our home as learning opportunities, and since pregnancy and babies are pretty much ALWAYS in season around here, I’ve tried to give age appropriate lessons about a lot of what I’ve experienced. Within reason, I mean.
They know we go to a hospital and Dr. Pollard helps me get babies out, Margaret Hannah could totally moonlight as a lactation consultant, and EVERYBODY knows how to assist in diaper changing.
Hank saw a picture from when he was born where my legs were up (why didn’t anyone tell me you’re paralyzed when you have an epidural??? I thought I would never be able to walk again!) and we didn’t go into much of a discussion, other than to say “Yep, that was the day you were born!” But then a few weeks after he saw that picture, he caught a few minutes of a Pregnant and Didn’t Know It episode… I walked into the living room to see him with one hand on each shin, knees up by his ears, and him looking all between his legs. When I asked what he was doing, he said “I’m jus’ really trying to figure out how you get babies outta yer body this way! Is that how you did it?”
I came up with some line about mama’s are able to have babies and their bodies just know how to get them out. Award winning answer, I know. He hasn’t asked anymore of those types of questions lately, except when it comes to chickens. He’s unbelievably interested in the difference between regular eggs and baby chick eggs. And I’m gonna be honest, it kind of confuses me too. I haven’t given him a concrete answer just yet.
Anyway, I’ve been having some contractions in the evenings after busy days at work. The most effective way to get them to stop is to get propped up on the couch with one of my eleventeen pillows and get my feet up. That’s like textbook “How to stop contractions,” so you can just take my technique to the
bank delivery room.
So we got home the other day, and I couldn’t get comfortable. I kept saying Tobago was hurting in my belly, and this is how the rest of the conversation played out:
MH: So it’s like a tummy ache?
Me: Not really. It just means I did too much today, & my belly gets really tight, & Tobago says “go sit down, mom!”
MH: He can talk now? AMOS can’t even talk real good like yet.
Me: No, it means let’s go lay on the couch ’cause my belly doesn’t fell good.
Hank: Like when we get sick belly & have the go poop alots? Is that what Tobago does to you? I don’t want a baby in my belly!!!
Me: No, Hank. It’s not a poop. And boy’s can’t have babies.
Hank: Good! I’m tired of pooping all the time!
I feel like he gets it now.
And my job is done for the foreseeable future on having to explain anything else about birth. At least until they’re looking at Instagram with me and see a particularly “organic” picture from BirthWithoutFear or BirthPhotography.
PS You’ve been warned about those sites. I am IN LOVE with them, but I totally get that not everyone else is. So, if you’re not interested in knowing why you put your legs up to have a baby or any of the other gazillion things that make birth unbelievable, don’t click ’em. Just take Hank’s word for it.