So let me just start this post by admitting I know these feelings are totally selfish and self-centered (which is, hello, part of my arguement for why I shouldn't be reproducing yet/ever), but a big part of my baby apprehension is straight up fear and grossness. It's easy for me to get caught up thinking of baby girl pigtails and hot pink tights with Mary Janes or little boys in cowboy boots, but anytime someone starts in on gross things happening to the waist-al area, I am ready to tuck and run.

It's not that I didn't know gross beautiful things happen, but after watching this movie with Shirley, and then reading this post from the great MODG, I am extra-super-terrified. For like, five minutes, the Ricki Lake movie made me want to give birth in a kiddie pool in Shirley's back yard (she has an awesome set up, that one) with puppies and rainbows with only a Skittle sugar high to buffer the pain, but then I reverted back to my Betty Draper, wake-me-when-it's-over fantasy. Maybe. Probably. Sorry, Shirley.