- I want enough moonshine in my epidural that I look back on labor and compare it to a sun kissed day in Bora Bora, but not so much that I forget I am trying to squeeze a honeydew melon out of my lady parts.
I want an epidural with dosing strong enough that I enjoy the birth but not so strong that I am debilitated.
- I want my husband to make the royal proclamation to the unlucky few to whom I am exposing myself about whether our child shall be referred to as a “lady” or a “gentleman.”
I want Andy to be the one who announces the sex of the baby.
- To increase my chances of success, I want the baby on my boob faster than you can name the redeeming qualities of Joe Biden.
I want to breastfeed ASAP, preferably within 45 minutes to 1 hour after giving birth.
- We would appreciate your assistance in keeping our intimately involved family at a distance until we have mentally prepared for them to descend upon us like locusts.
No visitors until we say we are ready.
- No turtlenecks.
If we have a boy, we want him circumcised.
- Much like digging around buried power lines, “check before you prick.”
We want to discuss vaccines with the pediatrician before they are administered.
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