New favorite blog . . . and a pain scale

If you haven't checked out a little blog called Hyperbole and a Half, you NEEEEED to. I particularly recommend The God of Cake and This Is Why I'll Never Be an Adult.

But another post caught my eye because of my current state of about-to-popness. I go to the doc once a week. We're meeting with the doula. We toured the hospital last week. And a lot of my thinking these days centers around one basic thought: I've grown the kid . . . now how the heck do we get him out?

Ow.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

And yet I'm attempting to do this thing naturally if at all possible (and by the way, I'm the one who gets to say whether or not it is at all possible). We'll do our best and see what happens.

One thing I know I DON'T want is some nurse asking me over and over again to rate my pain on a scale. It's labor. I'm pretty sure it hurts. I did plenty of pain ratings after my car accidents and it just makes me feel awkward. Choosing a number to describe my pain is an awful lot of pressure. If I say 3, I might as well not be at the docs. If I say 5, I'm indecisive. If I say 8 or 9, I'm a drama queen or a wimp. Besides, I'm a words person, not a math whiz.

Even the ones with faces are annoying.
Gross.
But this one, courtesy Hyperbole and a Half, I like. I've printed it out and may just use it at the hospital (we'll give it to the nurses along with our birth plan):

Yes. Now this is a pain scale I can get behind.

Seriously, check out the blog. I read it late at night when I can't sleep . . . and I keep on laughing so loud I'm afraid I'll wake up J. Fun stuff.