How's the Baby Gonna Come Out?
I'll be the first to admit that I'm a teensy bit middle school when it comes to all things anatomy. I think the word "penis" is hilarious. Zach and I are constantly making inappropriate "That's what she said" jokes and if you overheard a conversation between my siblings and I, you would lose all respect for me. HA. Maybe not. I hope not. But all that to say, I'm trying not to pass on my immaturity about the human body to my kids, but I think I'm failing.
I was not prepared for that first, "Mom how's the baby going to come out of your belly?" conversation. I answered with a quick, "Oh the Dr. will help take it out." Besides the fact that I'm not even seeing a doctor (midwife), how much of a cop out is that answer? There are moms who are hipper than me who would've taken that as an opportunity to explain the female body and all of it's glorious working mechanisms, but that's not me. I mean. I can't even say "vagina" to him. Penis? No problem. We use that word all day. It drives my parents crazy to hear a little boy say that word, but I think it sounds better than "ding a ling" or whatever. But VAGINA? Can't say it. I can't say it. Not to him. Not to my little boy. It's just such a ... body part. See? Clearly, I am grown up enough to have children. Anyway. That answer quenched his thirst for knowledge at the moment, but the question came up again a few days later.
And then again. And then again. And then again. And each time, I'd explain a little more in detail. "Well, I'm going to be in a lot of pain for a little while, and then I'll go to the hospital and the doctor will say, 'Ok let's have a baby!' and then we'll have a baby!". But then Jonah started getting specific. "But won't it hurt your belly?" No, it won't hurt my belly. "Is the doctor going to rip it open?" No...he's not going to rip it open. "But then how will it come out?" uhhhhh....
One night, he was taking a bath and he asked me again. Seriously, kid. TAKE A HINT. But in a moment of pure genius, I had the perfect answer. I was patting myself on the back as I was answering him. Until the end. Until I said the thing I couldn't take back. I told him, "Well. It's kind of cool. God made mommies' bodies a special way so that we can have babies. Daddies can't have babies, only mommies, because that's just how creative and awesome God is. He made me with a special place in my belly for the baby to grow big and strong, and when the baby is ready to come out ... I have a special baby hole that the baby will come through.
I CALLED IT A BABY HOLE.
You know when you say something and the words are coming out and in your head you're like "Nooooooooooooo" and you try to catch them, but you can't stop them and they just fall out of your mouth and you're like, "What did I just say??" Yea. About that. Apparently I live in a world where "baby hole" is a better phrase to use than "vagina". So much regret. So much face palm. Baby hole.
Well. The question didn't come up for a long time after that. And then when it did, it went something like this :
J- But mom! When the baby is born it will break your belly!!
Me- Nooo it won't break my belly. When the baby is ready to come out, the doctor will make sure I don't get hurt and that mommy's safe and the baby is safe. (See how I went back to familiar cop outs? No shame.)
J-But how does it come out?
Me-Well when it's ready, daddy will take me to the hospital and I'll push like this (insert pushing sound here) and the baby will just ... come out.
J-Does it come out of your butt?
Me-No, not out of my butt. It comes out of my...um...well. It comes out ... It comes from ... It comes out of... (Don't say baby hole again. Don't say baby hole again. Don't say baby hole again.)
I know, right? WHAT? That's the logical next step from my butt? Skip right down to my ankles? Ok then.
So that's what we're going with. Ankles. The baby will come out of my ankles and that's the end of the story. I'm well aware that I'm making a big deal out of nothing and I'm probably messing him up for life and why shroud the vagina in mystery, right? Well. It's shrouded. Completely cloaked in mystery and I'm going to keep it that way as long as I feel the need. Don't judge me for not saying vagina. Judge me for calling it a baby hole.