Jessica Simpson is still pregnant, much like I found myself during my first pregnancy with a ten-pound child. I looked exactly like Simpson at the 9 month mark and it felt like that baby was never going to come out. My son had been in there so long I had visions that he was going to arrive with an IQ worthy of Mensa. Instead Schuyleur (pronounced Skylar) was born a healthy huge baby that was colicky and cried for the next nine months.
Simpson has suggested that she wants to give birth on the delivery table in her fave YSL stilettos that she only gave up a few weeks ago. I, on the other hand, gave heels up in the first trimester when I slipped and fell under a leaking slurpie machine at the local 7-11.There is no " fashion formula" for pregnancy other than your basic conscious sperm meets ovum, then fashionably implants.
Jessica has also tweeted that she expects to go through labor in a stylin' leopard caftan and I seriously wonder if she will also be tweeting during birth. Is that caftan going to be on before or after the enema they might decide to give you. I silently gave thanks in some darkened hospital washroom that I had nothing to carry or worry about as I sat there with my bowels falling out of me. Are you not worried that baby's first thought will be, "OMG, I'm about to get eaten by a leopard!"
Jessica, birth is no fashion excursion, and I found out the hard way. Like you, I was running a fashion business and worked every single day of my pregnancy until they decided enough was enough and induced me on a Saturday night. All night long I endured labor pains but that kid chose not follow the yellow brick road into the world.
At 1pm the next day that kid still had not moved and they had to induce me once again. By this time most of my clothing had been shed and my fingers were swollen due to registered vultures coming for blood every few hours as I was a gestational diabetic. There was no leopard flowing caftan or even cute slippers, and if anyone touched me they were lucky they were not slugged on the spot.
By five that night, and we are talking the next day here, they had to break my water to encourage him to try the water slide. By this time my left foot started to swell and to this day 27 years later I still have a swollen left foot as a souvenir of my son's birth. Good luck with those YSL shoes, as the only things comfy on my feet now are shoes that look much like a shoe box from Payless.
Twenty eight and half hours later Dr. Treehuba put one foot on the delivery table andher hands on the forceps and pulled my son out. Sky came out red, huge, mad as hell and still has that testiness today.
Good luck to you with your notions of flowers, music and fashion when you sit on that inner tube they give you the next day. If I have time I will cover one for you in animal print and send it to you as it is going to become your best friend along with hemorrhoid cream.
Honestly, birthing is work, but I do commend you for your spirit, as honey, you are going to need it once that girl of yours is born. My last word of advice is to watch that birth control once you have delivered as 12 months later I gave birth to another boy, Perry Ellis, and a few months later boarded up the office permanently.
All kidding aside Jessica, love every minute with your child, as one day you will search for that little person and realize that she has long grown up. Only pictures will hold the memories and instead of looking for that child you will realize you should be looking for the woman that she has become- probably sporting stilettos.
Linda Seccaspina for Zoomers Canada
Menopausal Woman of the Corn is now available on Amazon