So my workplace has a rather...relaxed atmosphere. We are largely favored with those of the estrogen persuasion, and the few testosterone belabored creatures either know when to duck and cover or simply stick their fingers in their ears and sing. This is due to the rather alarming conversations we often manage to have.
Case in point: yesterday, we were, once again, discussing pregnancy and delivery and all that goes with creating, birthing and raising babies. A coworker will become a first-time mom this summer, and it is a hot topic. Those of us who have never been pregnant are quick to offer advice based upon friends' and families' experiences, not to mention the ever-popular internet with it's ever-so-accurate information, while those who have children of their offer their own sage, if often outdated, wisdom.
So back to yesterday...we discussed episiotomies. Yep, the ol' snip-snip to avoid the extremely unpleasant tearing that comes of trying to squeeze something the size of a softball out of a hole the size of a Red Bull can. Well, we went on to discuss the more modern idea of preparing the area in question through moisturizing and massage, i.e. with olive oil. This conversation continued, off and on, complete with horror stories and random quips from the peanut gallery, throughout most of the day. I'm pretty sure most of what we discussed could have been dialogue straight from the Vagina Monologues.
Can't wait to see what we get up to next week!
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