(The couple that came to our birth planning meeting had their second child last weekend, birthed by our midwife, and the baby girl weighed almost 12 pounds. Amy looked at me meekly and said, "Please, no.")
The big B birthday could happen in the next week or two. We're going to pick up the birthing tub this weekend and then I'll have an indoor Jacuzzi for short time. Sweet. Got everything on the birthday checklist. Check.
I told my mom last night that we're as ready as we're going to be. All the reading, the listening to birth stories, the family and friend advice, the midwife coaching (you rock, Kathe) – all have been invaluable. But now it's time for hands-on training. Now it's time. (I could share what I've learned about sphincter law, but I'll let you think about it first.)
The only thing I'm afraid of is the cutting of Baby B's nails. Really. Yes, we have little mittens ready to go in case they're too long, but cutting them, no way. Years ago I tried to cut my dog's nails (good ol' Joshua), cut one to the quick and he bled all over the frickin' place. Scared me to death.
Bring on the meconium and the pee and the placenta and the plutonium – but I ain't cuttin' the nails. Please don't make me cut the nails.