29 Weeks into Gestation

“I’m sick of being pregnant! I can’t even groom myself anymore!”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“Why can’t you take over at this point? Why can’t this be like “March of the Penguins,” like where you share in warming the egg?”

“I would if I could, baby.”


We graduated from Prepared Childbirth class yesterday. We were the youngest pups there, I’m guessing by at least five years. I had so many questions. I was the only one grabbing for my baby daddy’s hand during the moments in the videos where they showed the crowning. And at every mention of the word “membranes,” I was pulling my t-shirt up over my mouth like an overstretched turtleneck. Rookie-dom solidifies itself more everyday.


Last night I had a dream that I went for my OB/GYN check-up and the nursing staff, who all spoke Spanish, told me that my pelvic bone was too tight and that I would need it adjusted in order to have a successful vaginal birth. So, naturally, they told me to climb up on a set of high monkey bars so they could stretch out my pelvis. I complied. I then went home, started having contractions, and realized it was too late to go to the hospital. I gave birth to Mortimer, Bill Cosby’s pen from “Picture Pages.”

About The Author


Kendraspondence is the personal mischief of Kendra Stanton Lee.


  1. If only humans could share the job like penguins do.

    Speaking of Bill Cosby… perhaps an encore screening of Bill Cosby: Himself is in order?

    Child birth class: I’ll be the one who passes out. I can’t take it. The word placenta and my ears start ringing and I break out in a sweat.

  2. That’s it! There’s no way they’re making me climb monkey bars to adjust my pelvis. I’m going to stay pregnant forever instead! πŸ˜‰

    Nice dream there Kendra.

    And maybe you were the youngest in the class because younger new parents aren’t as prompt about learning all those sorts of important information and aren’t in the class. So really, it is because you’re the spiffiest geniouses in the class.

    And don’t be feeling too young! Remember I’m 5 years younger than you. (er… wait, I forgot I had a birthday… make that 4 or something closer to it.)

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