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husband and I were dating, our favorite topics of conversation were babies and
marriage. I know. Totally taboo for couples in their early twenties to talk
about settling down, but when the guy you're in love with already has two
children, you can get away with those things. I loved to daydream about future
babies with him, loved to talk about Chloe and Trey, all the things we wanted
to share with them in our lives. We would lay in bed at night, doodling our
favorite baby names, and talking about nursery ideas (for the record, our
favorite baby names were on the most popular list in 1950).
that we're married, the dreams are more intense and we talk about them almost
daily. Well, I talk
about them almost daily while David worries and frets over the things we need
to accomplish before making our other
dreams come true. I know he still wants the same things he always has (THREE
more kids, you guys. I don't know how I got so lucky), he's just willing to
wait two more months until our bank account is full for all of my nesting
needs. Instead, I bounce all of my baby ideas off of him to gauge his reaction,
including hospital birth versus home birth and cloth diapers.
husband is an Xbox-playing-bass-fishing-deer-hunting kind of guy. He could live
off of steak and potatoes, will not touch coffee unless it has at least 3/4 cup of
cream and sugar and would list "chopping wood" as one of his favorite
activities. He is a country boy in every sense of the word, but everyone is
always surprised to hear about his "softer" side. The
Tolkien-reading-puppy-kissing-Disneyworld-loving side, the side that comes out
of him when we're talking about babies.
night I mentioned to him that Holly Madison, a former Playmate, has stated
that she's having her placenta turned into pills so she can take them after
giving birth to her baby girl.
"Wouldn’t you be totally grossed out if I ate my placenta?" I asked him.
"Uh huh," my husband said, using the voice he always uses when he could not care less
about what I'm saying. You know that voice. It's the voice we all give our kids
when they're showing us how they can jump in the air for the 7,000th time.
this is a thing now. It's supposed to be really good for you and help out
with postpartum depression," I mumbled, expecting David to call BS and
heard it’s full of nutrients and vitamins," he said, surprising the hell out of
me. See? Softer side.
you be totally grossed out if I ate my placenta?" I asked him because, let's be
honest: I'm totally grossed out by the idea.
that's up to you, babe. Just brush your teeth afterwards," he laughed. This is
my husband. He could not care less about what anyone else does, especially when it
comes to me and the discussion of childbirth. If I don't want an epidural? He
is 100 percent behind that. If I want to give birth at home in our tub? He will worry
himself to death, but will not push me in any direction. He is the perfect
partner to have when it comes to babies.
I would never. If I was going to, I'd have it in a pill form or something," I
answered, snuggling up to my "softer" husband, relishing in the fact that I
have such an open, understanding guy to go on this journey with.
kissed me on top of the head, gave me a squeeze and said, "Hey, why don't we
just fry that shit up and eat it?"
This is my
husband. Open, understanding, soft and so country that he would probably fry my
placenta with some bacon and salt.