Glimpse of the future...

I went on my hospital tour last night and saw the place where the miraculous, magical stork will drop off my perfect baby girl in 55 days... well, I saw the place where complete strangers are going to see my body convulsing, bleeding and stretching in ways it really shouldn’t, and then snatching away my screaming, bloody newborn as soon as she pops out). Warm and fuzzy feelings yet?? Yeah, me either...

So I now know the place where I check in, the floor where I will deliver (the tour guide assured me that NO ONE leaves that floor without having her baby one way or another -- hmm, reassuring), and a room similiar to the one where I will recover (and entertain all of Emme’s fans while learning how to use my bowels again).

The strangest part of the tour was that it was so...quiet. I mean, like Saturday morning in the basement of the public library quiet. Where were the screaming women and freaked out men? And the crying babies? It was almost eerie...the way the nurses were all smiles and joking around like sorority sisters and only two or three babies slept peacefully in the nursery. Was this part of the "sell"?

WINNIE PALMER HOSPITAL -- WHERE WOMEN AND BABIES ARE RARELY SEEN AND NEVER HEARD

I started to get nervous. Not about the indescribable pain, or thousands of things that could go wrong in that delivery room, but about being too loud. I asked, "Will my door be shut? Will other people be able to hear me in labor?" with the insecurity of a high school freshman trying to find his locker on day one. The tour guide responded,

"Well, no, unless someone stands right next to the door and is trying to listen."

"Good, because I don’t want strangers to hear me screaming," I said.

She gave me a "there-there Bambi" look, patted me on the arm and said,
"This is your first baby, isn’t it?"

As if asking about other people hearing the most intimate moments of my life was something only a "first timer" would be concerned with. Visions of 100 television shows and bad movies flew through my mind. When Aunt Becki gave birth to Niki and Alex on ’Full House’, she was a sweaty, screaming disaster. Same with Annie and Nina in "Father of the Bride: Part II." Even bad-ass Dr. Bailey on Grey’s Anatomy freaked out and was ready to pack up her things and head home when faced with labor pains. Am I really tougher than "the Nazi" of Seattle Grace’s surgical wing?

The answer, of course, remains to be seen. Will my over-expectation of pain actually make the experience a pleasant surprise? Will I decide on the drugs and breeze right through the difficult contractions and be ready to breastfeed 2 hours later?

Or will I scream like a banshee and scare the crap out of the pregnant women on the hospital tour that day??

If anyone is anxious to find out first-hand, I am allowed to have 3 people in the delivery room with me. A useful gem obtained from the tour...