I’ve been to an ante-natal refresher course this morning at the maternity hospital. As I previously attended the countless classes as an unassuming expectant first-time mother with Jacob, I got to attend this two-and-a-half hour reminder class, and this one alone. That’s precisely how I like my courses: concise, rolled in to one day or a weekend at a push and preferably, with free booze on offer.

(Note: if you attend ante-natal classes at a maternity hospital, they do not provide free booze, but there will be a plentiful supply of lukewarm water from the dispenser in the hallway so knock yourself out).

Most couples who were in attendance were in fine form, which was only enhanced by the hysterical midwife/closet comedian who presented the information to us. Ten minutes into the class, and I was literally crying with laughter at her fab approach. Great one liners such as ‘We’re not allowed to ask for top-ups at the canteen any more, we have to say ‘refills” will keep me going for weeks! She should write a book at the very least, have her own show at the very average and come to live with me at the very most. I LOVED HER.

I found the refresher course really helpful for reminding me of all the basics in terms of what will happen when The Babs decides that he/she wants out. The theory communicated today was that labour with a second child is far quicker than the first, but as ever, I’d be fairly reserved when it comes to generalizing these things. I’m of the opinion that every baby has their own unique journey into this world, and my vagina probably won’t behave exactly the same as the next lady’s. Truth be told, my vagina hasn’t behaved herself for years anyway.

There are two very important things I took from today:

1.    I must not fob the care of Jacob off on Ass Monkey, or any other family members (as planned, actually) when the baby arrives, but really try to spend lots of time reassuring him that he is still the Top Dawg. That plan is a go.

2.   I am so completely unprepared for this baby. Like, entirely. Assuming that baby doesn’t decide to come early or anything appalling like that, I have just over seven weeks to go to decorate a nursery, buy a pram and car seat, teeny tiny nappies, bottles, sterilizers, baby clothes, nipple cream, nursing bras, puke cloths, colic meds, bibs, soothers, clear out a space in the freezer for tea-tree sprayed fanny pads, apologize to my dentist for not wearing my retainer even though my teeth have moved about dramatically in my gob during the last seven months…..

When am I going to get it together, eh?!

[Did you miss ‘Preggo Watch: I Flashed The Intern’? Read it HERE]