Our Vacation Getaway

Allen and I are having baby 2 at The Birthplace. It is newly renovated, opening this past August. Last night we had the opportunity to take a tour. It is beautiful. It looks like a spa resort. Calming lights. Beautiful wood work. Gorgeous photography. Oh my gosh, it looks downright delightful.

Look at that view of downtown Minneapolis! Sigh. Bliss. Heaven. Vacation!

Wait. Snap out of it! This beautiful room does not hold any restful, peaceful, magical moments. It is deceptive. It is built and designed to make you believe that you are in for a treat – but it is a LIE.

This is a place where you and your newborn are poked and prodded every 2 hours. A place of uterine massages that make your newly vacated tummy feel particularly unattractive and squishy and DEAR GOD will that skin ever fix itself again (answer: sort of). A place of mesh underwear, absorbent disposable leak proof bed pads, witch hazel, vagina ice packs, giant underwear pads, and stool softener. A place where you will begin your tiring parental journey. A place where you will try to breastfeed with people watching you and suggesting a different hold or new way to lie down. A place where someone else will put their hand on your boob to show you how a good latch should look. A place so perfectly mixed with boredom and sleep deprivation and excitement that you will not be able to tell if you are enjoying any given moment of your day. A place that you will simultaneously rejoice and dread leaving. A place where your hormones begin to flush out of your system leaving you in a dizzying array of emotional feels. A place of so so so many feels. Good feels. Bad feels. A place where you will cry. Tears of happiness, tears of fear, tears of anxiety.

Don’t let that bear and those flowers fool you. The beauty belies the truth. This is a hospital. And it is set up to function as such and that nice personal concierge is actually a nurse asking you to turn over to give you a shot in your butt (if you need an rh shot, as I do).

I am not looking forward to our hospital stay. But I am going to let this room seduce me until the reality hits. Ah, the beauty. Ah, the serenity.

Here are a few positive things I can say about this hotel  hospital room: It is the place we are going to get to know baby 2. Where we will stare at his tiny little face and compare it to another tiny face we saw two years ago. Reminder. A place where, unlike the first time around, we will be flooded with visitors and I will be so happy to show off the little bean. A place where Henry will meet his little brother and I will most certainly cry when Henry kisses that tiny head for the first time. A place where, above all else, we will be assured that baby 2 is healthy and ready to come home to be part of our little, amazing, loving, ridiculous, and hilarious family.

I cannot wait. 5 weeks. Let’s do this.

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