Is That A Penis Next To Your Umbilical Cord, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

I take the round about way of things. If I have a grocery list with 3 things on it, it still takes me at least an hour and $100 to get through the store. My husband who does everything from painting my toenails to buying me stockings hates going to the mall with me because I can’t bring myself to go in any sort of logical order as I sort through the clothes.

I might be part German….but I seem to lack that German efficiency. Well at least I thought that until I met my uterus.

When my daughter was born 5 weeks early I was told it was a “fluke.” That it would probably never happen again. Apparently though, the uterus is not so flukey. It is efficient. And tends to spit out babies when they are *just* cooked enough.

I was home on bed rest. Everything was cool. I had the occasional contraction. And to be honest, I was sort of starting to enjoy the being forced to relax in bed when at 12:50am on Wednesday contractions started every minute. That’s right. Every single minute = big bad contraction.

By the time Mahotma Friends (who are awesome) made it to the house to be with Mahotma Princess and we were on our way it was 1:20am.We checked in to the hospital at 1:55am and despite some annoying emergency room receptionist who tried to get me to fill out papers when I was screaming in agony, I had Mahotma Prince at 2:07am.

WITHOUT an epidural.

I don’t cook shabbos without an epidural.

But I did it (even though I squeezed a nurse’s hand so hard she needed stitches…hey, you try going from 2cm to 10cm in an hour, push a living thing out of your hoo ha in 5 minutes and see what you break) and because he was 6 weeks early he’s teeny tiny but perfect and beautiful.

My husband looked at him and he counted-10 perfect toes, 10 perfect fingers and 2 perfect testicles.

I am so pleased to have the “complete set.” So pleased to have had a handsome boy that looks just like his Daddy. So pleased that even though my little man has to stay in the hospital a bit longer to help him grow up a bit from his 4lb 15oz, that he is healthy and strong.

Not so pleased about having to deal with the man parts.

The nurses tried to explain pointing the peanut down in the diaper. My friend got me a very fancy set of adorable fleece covered “pee pee tee pees.” I even have some of the washing and rinsing down because I have been able to help with his baths. Squishy.

So in theory I should be good to go when I have to deal with the wee willy winky on a daily basis.

But I am sorry. It is weird to have to deal with body parts that I haven’t had to deal with before. It’s a whole new ball of…balls. And we haven’t even gotten to bris care yet.

In the meantime I have yet to eat a baby carrot or a pilaf from my rice. I have a bad case of peanut on the brain. But let him grow strong and be healthy and I’m sure somehow between worshipping my Queen and new King, peanuts and cracker jacks will be the last thing on my mind.