I blame television shows for a lot of my crazy ideas. During my first pregnancy, I had my suitcase ready weeks before the due date. Some might say I was prepared. However, when I recall that time, I might have been delusional. I packed as though I was going on a weekend trip to a spa rather than the hospital.
My birth plan certainly influenced my preparations. A friend had introduced me to hypnobirthing — a method of self-hypnosis through meditation — and I was convinced that I would have total control over my body during labor. The hospital’s birthing room included a whirlpool tub and CD player, so I packed a cute bathing suit and a soothing collection of music for the occasion.
In case I had some extra time on my hands, I also included my iPod and a book of David Sedaris’ essays. My plan was to keep the mood light, so the baby would enter the world peacefully.
I realized I would be in a hospital gown immediately after the birth, but my mother convinced me to bring some comfortable, camera-ready pajamas. I packed cosmetics and bath products, thinking that some pampering after labor might be welcomed. My toiletry bag looked as though I’d raided Sephora.
And then there was the baby’s wardrobe. She received a lot of outfits as gifts, but I took the sentimental route and chose the fleece pajamas and matching bunting I’d worn home as a newborn.
On the evening of my labor, I learned most everything I packed was useless. While I tried to keep my hypnobirthing mantras in mind, my body shook uncontrollably, and a nice anesthesiologist named Igor gave me an epidural.
The remainder of my time was spent lying in the fetal position. I tried to listen to my iPod, but the incessant beeping that came from the heart monitor overruled the calming effects of Al Green.
I give Mom kudos for advising me to bring something decent to wear. However, while my pajamas looked great, they weren’t practical for nursing.
My choice for the baby was a bust, too. The outfit I selected for her simply didn’t fit. I thought we might be bringing her home in a pair of diapers and a “Property of Maine Med” onesie, but our nurse fashioned some leggings out of a hospital T-shirt and found a knit sweater someone had generously donated.
This time around, I plan to pack light. A sense of humor and an open-mind are all I need.
Jennifer Hazard lives and writes in Yarmouth.