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May 9, 2011

To Live Blog or Not?

The first time I found myself wearing maternity clothing and watching my belly morph into shapes that resembled The Blob, I swore up and down that my husband and I wouldn't tell a soul when I went into labor. In fact, I may or may not have threatened to hunt down and kill anyone who broke the news of my child's birth on my Facebook page before I had the chance to post it.

No, I'm not naturally a pacifist. I also make fun of hairless cats and crack jokes about my sex life at inopportune moments. At the present, however, I'm chalking these things up to the pregnancy hormones. DON'T JUDGE.

As much as a secret birth was a thrill the first time around, this time it simply isn't in the cards due to one very important and regularly poopy factor- my firstborn. While my son would undoubtedly be more than happy to cry, scream, and throw tantrums next to mama during labor, let's face it, even though I'll be throwing a tantrum through each and every contraction, being the one to catch my newborn child as he or she emerges from the womb would probably scar Nathaniel for life and would definitely eliminate the possibility of any sort of future medical career. Since he currently enjoys walking around the house proudly displaying his toy stethoscope, I'm trying to preserve this gentle innocence. At least until he graduates from medical school and insists on supporting Jonathan and I as we retire and travel the world as an act of gratitude for all of the blowout diapers I changed when he was a toddler.

It's going to happen. Don't tell me otherwise. PREGNANCY HORMONES, PEOPLE.

Now that we're a mere eleven weeks from being considered full term and knowing that the possibility of meeting this child before we're a full forty weeks pregnant is extremely high, I've begun thinking through our plans. Route to the hospital? Check. Location of the nearest Wendy's? Check. Professional toddler-wrangler? Thanks to his grandmother, check.

It isn't going to be a surprise to our families this time; both sets of parents will be on high alert as soon as we leave for the agonizingly long drive to the hospital. But the question that I'm wrestling with is where to draw the line. Do I call my best friends? Live blog the event via Twitter? Ask the hoarders who live down the street to be our videographers?

I'm honestly left without knowing what to do and, with such a different experience last time, I'm wondering if making the news public would really be all that bad. So I'm asking my dear readers, please weigh in and share your opinions! Do you want to follow along as I attempt to crush my husband's hand in a show of super-birthing strength? Or should I keep you all in suspense til we announce this little person's name?


  1. I want to hear all about it!! If you decide not to tell until later, I'll still love you but knowing the play by play would be so fun! Especially since I won't be in the hospital at the same time!! ; )

  2. Part of me thinks it would be kind of fun to share the news as it happens. Probably not the epic I'M CROWNING NOW tweets, but saying something like HEY WE'RE IN THE HOSPITAL! I don't know... must converse with the hubs on this one!

  3. My husband kept out of town family and friends updated on Facebook. We didn't share the nitty gritty details, just that I was progressing well, what dr said and asking for prayer when I had an emergency C section. It was fun to look back at his posts after Reid was born, and our friends and family appreciated it. I think we'll do that again this time, but it will be far less interesting since I have a scheduled C section. :)

  4. Don't let your husband text the world with YOUR phone!!! Michael did with mine and I had text messages coming in like water coming through a broken flood gate! At one point I remember looking at him and telling him to get the phone out of my sight and to shut it off!