… we’ve been asked to add a “birthing room” to our park.
Could you imagine? (All I can think about is that scene from Gone With the Wind.)
Free unlimited boiling water?
Holidog to pant along as your breathing coach?
A miniature height-measurement stick to get the official length of your tiny bundle?
Would it be in the Labor Day section?
We’ve come to the conclusion that the intended suggestion was a “nursing room,” which, by the way, we have.
Our nursing room is right next to First Aid.
When I was pregnant back in the summer of 1999, I alerted the EMTs to that fact. Jeanne, in particular, seemed all too eager to host my baby’s birth in First Aid.
“We’ll be ready for you,” she cheerily informed me. “Stop by anytime!” Much to Jeanie’s dismay, I opted to give birth in a hospital.
And sweet baby James turns six on Friday. Can you guess where the little redhead wants to spend his birthday?
Of course you can.
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