This weekend I watched Knocked Up and can I say how much I needed to hear a beard joke like, “Was it difficult changing your name from Cat Stevens to Yusuf Islam?” Halfway through the movie I had to direct my hyena laugh into a pillow lest my neighbors wonder if we wound animals in the living room.
And thanks to Knocked Up, I know what it looks like to push out a baby, at least how Hollywood illustrates a cannonball being shoved through the eye of a needle.
I have never seen that, not even during my labor. I refused the mirror because I was going through enough stress at the moment with the epidural wearing off and my mother insisting to count OUT OF SYNC. Also, there were so many people coming through the room, witnessing my goodies–my husband, doctors, nurses, orderlies, American Idol contestants, Alaska-bound tourists, many of whom gasped in horror, “Honey this is not CARNIVAL CRUISE!”
I did click through a labor and delivery website during my pregnancy and the pictures were so bloody and graphic, I couldn’t tell which was the baby’s head and which was the beaver. Someone should have gone in with MS Paint and airbrushed a line of demarcation. It worked for the Civil War and they didn’t even have babies, beavers, or Windows XP! That website could have used the same technology that football games utilize when a yellow line shoots across the screen to indicate how close it is to a first down. Curious expecting moms and not-curious-but-forced-to-look-dads would know which is the baby and which is the beaver.
With Thanksgiving this week, aren’t you thankful there are no pictures in this post?