Drop That Microphone, Girl!

Tomorrow I am going in for my check-up with the midwife. To prepare for this meeting, I have been collecting concerns on a piece of paper and I'm keeping it in my purse, you know, so I can whip it out and go through the list during my appointment. Our midwife is really pretty great actually, and totally understands our background and previous birthing locations. She has mentioned a time or two that maybe we ought to tour the hospital just to get a feel for it, but then she will say maybe we shouldn't because it will draw us back home. She gets me. She gets us.

With that being said, I know she won't be the only one in the room when Ephraim arrives. I'm concerned about what may happen in the aftermath. Want to know what I worry about? Baths, retractions, and gowns. Yup, I'm worried about the bath. Dear nurse, please don't bathe our baby! I want so badly to smell Ephraim in his original scent, I don't mind the vernix one bit, in fact it's a delicious smelling natural lotion that rubs right in. Johnson and Johnson is nice and all but it's not the smell I want associated with our fresh baby. Seriously, fresh babies smell out-of-this-world good!

Is it unrealistic to think I could have my little Ephraim in either mine or Nate's arms the entire hospital stay? I think not. So my desire is to not have anyone sweep him away, even if it is just to a side cart next to me. They do in room care at this hospital but I would like to change that to "in-arm" care. We definitely won't be circumcising and so I'm kind of thinking I should make a sign that gently asks to not even go near his penis.  Seriously, don't even look like you are going to touch it! I've heard of some nurses retracting the foreskin and that is a big no no!

Also, I want to wear my own gown. I can do that, right? I mean, so long as there is access to the goodies.  Just a few small requests for when I have our baby, which, by the way, will be the property of the Campbell family and not the CEO of Baylor Mckinney.  I don't mean to be picky, oh wait, yes I do. Who am I kidding?

My dream is to go to the hospital in the very late stages of labor (having labored on my own on the streets of McKinney, or maybe in a fancy hotel), giving them zero time to even hook me up to an IV, "just in case", push out our sweet smelling, intact baby, nurse the little guy, get my street clothes on, take a shower and drop the microphone as I'm walking out with Ephraim, the girls, and Nate by my side. Yep, that's the plan. Wonder what the midwife will say to my requests demands.