Coming out

The midwife pointed out something that I’d actually never thought about. She was going on about the endorphins and all that and then mentioned how stressful and traumatizing the whole coming out ordeal is for baby also. I’d actually been so wrapped up in thinking about ice cream and me that I totally forgot about our baby girl. For her whole existence, she’s been comfortably resting in my cushy uterus. We do fun things like rock in my computer chair, lay on the couch, ride in a car. I guess her apartment gets smaller and smaller, but even until the end she feels really safe and comfortable in there. But come her birthday, all of her warm amniotic fluid that surrounds her will suddenly be gone. “WTF?!” she’ll probably think. Her previously cushy home will start contracting and squeezing and pushing to evict her immediately. What a crappy deal. Not only that, but her head will actually mould to fit through my dainty “canals.” When was the last time you tried to squeeze your head through something that small? Also, I was told that it usually takes two pushes to get them fully out, meaning that first her head will just be on the outside and then she’ll have to maneuver her shoulders and little slimy body out a few minutes later (picturing that visual totally makes me laugh). All in all, the experience of going from the only wonderful peaceful existence that she’s ever known to all that other chaos is probably stressful and annoying. No wonder they cry when they come out.