Ever wondered where babies come from? Or need a rather no-holds-barred, to-the-point guide for your kids?

The Germans (is anyone surprised at this?) show you, in hilarious picture book form.

(Note: If you are educated on where babies come from, you’re smart enough to know picture book+ that = the book has nekkid people in it. Illustrated, yes, but the drawing of the smiling baby emerging from spread le…it’s probably not safe for work, people, is all I’m saying.)

Link via reader Athena of How Soon is Now. Thanks!

I’ve spent an eye-crossing amount of time updating and adding to the links section the past week or so. They desperately needed to be done to preserve my sanity, and also in response to what Mr. Google says people are looking for (namely: stuff to do, places to go, and birthday party centres — all for Durham).

Things are now split into what I hope are easier-to-navigate categories for y’all:

Durham links: The main entrance, also found on the right-hand toolbar over there, and directly above, under the logo

Places to play: Municipal recreation programs, indoor gyms, dance, birthday party centres

Stuff to do: Get out of the house with grown-ups (including, of course, Durham Mom’s Night Out!), Early Years Centres, public libraries, event listings, travel/tourism links

Durham daycare/nannies: Places to find childcare, resources

Safety and support: Recalls, breastfeeding, car seat safety checks, postpartum depression, parenting etc.

Local businesses and mompreneurs: List of consignment stores, baby gear, online sales, local entrepreneurs

Health: Labour, fitness, beauty

Fave Canadian retailers: The Eh! online stores we love the best

Coming soon: Baby shows, crafts and photography. Got any to add?

Have a site you love you want listed? A category to suggest? Business to add? Leave a comment or drop me an email. These are ever-expanding.

Enjoy!

This morning I weighed 161 lbs. That’s one pound more than the day I got pregnant.

I remember the last OB appointment before Lucy was born, on a shiny and cold Thursday afternoon in late February of 2006. I lumbered on the scale (we are quite like waddling elephants in those last few weeks, hmmm?) and politely asked not to be told the number. The nurse gave me a small smile — those were words she’d obviously heard before. The previous week I topped 200 lbs. I didn’t need any more numbers after that.

Like with many things moms don’t tell you about pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood, no one warned me about the body post-partum. How the sight of maternity clothes made you want to barf, but that they’d be all you could wear for a good 8-10 weeks. How after that, your regular clothes were still a dream away. How nothing fit. Nothing.

I wasn’t prepared for the in-between time. I had to buy almost an entire wardrobe while my body slowly took its post-pregnancy shape. Each time a pre-pregnancy top or pair of pants fit again was a cause for celebration. I laugh at thinking of “going back to normal” because there is no going back now, there is no normal. There is only your body after child birth.

That wad of hanging belly flesh that once held life in a beautiful round bubble burst and lies flat. A constant reminder of Lucy — as if her hiccuping laugh and strewn toys and “Mum-Mum-Mum” are not enough. That belly and the ribbed lines that skate across the skin are the mark of motherhood.

I remember being so proud of my rotundness, of peering at my bellybutton each morning waiting for it to pop and letting family members pet Lucy’s foot or head. Do we lift our shirts and compare stretch marks now, our war wounds? Our overhangs that are laughingly dubbed muffin tops?

We should, shouldn’t we?

I weigh the same, but I am not the same. My stretch marks have faded in the last 20 months. They are gray and pink. They smile at me. My belly is soft, yet safe and sturdy. I call it my inner tube because that band of skin is what physically identifies me as a mother.

(It’s also waiting to inflate again. It calls to me. I pull the plug to silence it.)

Was it worth it? Of course.

Please go visit The Shape of a Mother. Be inspired. Take comfort. Love yourself.

That photo was taken not long before we left for the hospital on Feb. 26, 2006, hours before Lucy was born. I’m in labour. Until today, I was too embarrassed to show it.

Like most new-parents-to-be, Eric and I took a pre-natal class at our local hospital.

(I wrote about it here and here.)

I remember being entranced by the other bellies in the room, all about the same rotundness as mine. And being in complete denial about how the baby was going to come out of me — more specifically, how a watermelon was coming out of an area most definitely not watermelon in size.

I was absolutely, 100% terrified. And my legs were crossed vey tightly.

And not once did I ever entertain the idea of giving birth without drugs. Because I am a wimp with ZERO pain tolerance. But at least I recognize it (which is why I waddled into the birthing suite panting for them. Eric hadn’t even put my bag down yet and I was huffing to the nurses to page Dr. Druggie, and when that needle slid into my back it was like the best piece of food my lips had ever touched, the best glass of wine except it washed over my whole body like I imagine an orgasm would feel, but not like I know what that’s like because my father reads this site. Hi Dad!).

Even with the knowledge that I’d be numb from the waist down as soon as medically possible, I still greatly benefited from Valerie’s exceptional class. You can only glean so much knowledge from other moms and the scary Internet, so learning about the different labour stages and breathing exercises and contraction positions was excellent.

It took some of the fear away, because it was mostly fear of the unknown.

And even though my drug plan worked out, we all know how unpredictable labour can be, so I’d have been prepared for the worst. And the worst in my books was delivery with no meds.

Val also covered C-section and home deliveries, natural childbirth, recovery, what to bring to the hospital, birth plans and more — it wasn’t the stereotypical hee-hee-whoo stuff from TV.

The Durham Lamaze Association runs all kinds of public and private classes throughout the Region. Check them out at www.durhamlamazeassociation.com. Val and I are still in touch, and she’s a fabulous resource for before and after birth. Reach her at sandv@sympatico.ca or 905-723-7373.