Ahhhh, the joys of sharing pregnancy with my mother.
Any time we talk about Baby, which is at least two times a day, my mother relays a story from her pregnancy. I have heard every one of them — several times, often in the same conversation (she likes to repeat herself).
I know how she felt at every second of her pregnancy, when she got nauseous, how long she was in labor, how labor felt, etc., etc. etc.
Today’s gem: “….and any time I ate Italian food…whew! Watch out! I farted so bad, it was like THERE WAS A SKUNK UP MY ASS. I kid you not! Your father used to leave the room. I would fart, fart, fart for hours. I told him, ‘It isn’t me; it’s the baaaaaaaby’. Seriously, like a skunk died up there.”
Me: I’m so glad we can share these things.