B and I had our “orientation” at the birth center. We had no idea what to expect. The orientation is required for anyone who wants to deliver at the birth center with the midwives. We thought maybe they would do some secret tests to be sure we were midwife worthy, like psychic stuff. That didn’t happen. Instead we were put in a room with like 20 other girls and their scared scared husbands. Their husbands all had a look on their faces like, what the shit did this woman get me into now? Witchery?
Me and B sit in the back. A giant man sits next to B. B is not happy. The giant man probably wasn’t happy either since B is also a giant man.
The director of the practice begins by taking attendance and insisting that we go around the room to introduce ourselves and tell the group why we are here. She wants to start in the back corner…where we are sitting. But the big fat guy and wife have to go first. We’re next.
(side conversation with B)
Me: SHIT I don’t know what to say?
B: I’ll speak for you
Me: No it’s not 1925.
B: I got this.
Me: You got what?
Big fat guy then speaks. FOR HIS WIFE. Turns out they are from Kuwait. Where women don’t speak. Jokes on us.
We’re next.
(shit)
Me: Um, hi. I think I’m pregnant but I really have no idea other than like the 34 pee tests I took. So if that counts, I’m pregnant. I don’t know how far along I am because I have irregular periods (men look away) Oh TMI? My bad. I thought this was a safe place. Ok well I’m here because my blog friend told me to come. She’s a hippie. Not that you are all hippies. I mean not that there is anything wrong with hippies. And I have real life friends too. I mean. Go Obama.
Next.
B looks at me with disgust
B: I should have said that we are also from Kuwait.
Me: I hate you.
So we watch a movie about a baby coming out of a vagina in a birth center. And every birth we have seen so far, the baby looks straight up blue dead. ITS SCARY. But turns out babies are pretty much born dead and you have to bring them to life. Who knew? We also learn that I am free to dance, sing, chant and rock during birth. I can even bake a cake for my baby’s birthday in the kitchen while I’m in labor. Because that sounds totally like something I’d want to do IN LABOR OR REALLY EVER no no no.
We took a tour of the birth center and it looks like your grandma’s house. Like complete with the medical IV shit everywhere and floral dust ruffles but also with a billion hot tubs. Despite my disdain for dust ruffles, I still really believe this is the best option for me. Possibly because I love hot tubs. Just not that one time in Key West. Digressing…
It was also nice to see the amount of like normal, girls there who were probably racing home to watch Gossip Girl. This I like. B likes to count the number of boys in baseball hats. I think it’s a comfort thing for him as well.
The weirdness though that I expected, was totally minimal. It was just like, this is where you’re going to pop out your baby. Any questions? The act of seeing the place though was weird. Like once, I toured a creepy old prison and you just knew that some bad shit went down there. This was like that except I don’t think I’m supposed to call birth “bad shit”. But you know what I’m saying.
OK Self pep talk: I can do it. I know I can. And If you’re going to tell me you don’t think I can do it. Take it up with my virtual doula ZDub. She will kill you.
GO BIRTH.
MODG
Hi I’m MODG. But you can call me MODG. You say it like Modg, like a Grandma name. Not like M.O.D.G. That’s a lot of syllables and I don’t have that kind of time. 
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
Haha!! Sounds like my method of public speaking! I call it “shooting from the hip”. though some may call it rambling…
you are SO brave… my birthing hero!
Lol…Tell B that those ramblings aren’t shit to the crazy stuff you’ll probably be spewing during birth..
I am calling your home phone 100 times at 3 am and then hanging up when I wake up with nightmares about placentas in dust ruffles. Consider yourself on notice.
That said, CONGRATULATIONS! I am the wimpiest, most anti-medical procedure, low-pain tolerance person on the planet, and honestly, delivery was not that bad. Seriously. Not that bad. Less fun that a picnic and a pony ride, but not much worse than a really long all-day bikini wax. So there you go. You’ll be great! Go birth!
I too would be counting the normal people. Or more like counting the crazy ones to see how many I’d be up against.
thank you.
i was blogging at work and got yelled at because i started cracking up at how omgcantbelieveshesaidthat hilarious you are.
kudos!
xo.ang
I operate my virtual doula business on referrals only, so if anyone is interested in my services you must be super nice to pregnant MODG.
I have a super sharp doula knife and I’m not afraid to use it.
If your placenta does happen to fall out onto your dust ruffle, peroxide with remove the birth juice stains.
*will*
Oh, MODG. I love this. This was way less traumatic than my visit to the hospital for the tour. Way less.
And I think you can do anything you set your mind to regarding this birth as long as you don’t set your mind to a lotus birth. If you decide on that, I might have to stop reading.
Love your introduction! LOL.. when words fail you, Go Obama!
ok modgbabymaker i am gonna tell you this one time and i want you to get it right inside your head and leave it there forever or until you are done having babies…
plan nothing.
no…really.
plan nothing.