Playing house

We're about to leave for a momentous occasion: presenting ourselves as (soon-to-be) parents for the first time in a quasi-official way. It's the first day of childbirth class! I'm skerred. Will I be the furthest along in my pregnancy, causing all the first-trimester moms to judge me for putting off the class for so long? Will I be the only one who definitely wants an epidural? Will my maternity outfit be too boring? Will I be the only one old enough to have read the Ramona books as they were published (the later ones, anyway)?


Whatever. The hospital where the classes are held in within walking distance of my favorite cupcake bakery. I'll get to stop by to either eat my feelings or celebrate getting through the tedium. Probably I'll be dreadfully bored, because I've now read at least seven pregnancy books and have read everything they're going to teach us.