Tied in a bow

Occasionally I find myself a bit envious of all the great new things available to pregnant moms these days. I thought I was so modern when I had Em 33 years ago. I took Lamaze classes and opted for music in the delivery room and a warm bath for the baby given by her Dad immediately post delivery (supposed to be good for bonding). I read to the baby in utero and generally had a happy and very healthy pregnancy and quick delivery. I thought I was cutting edge. But, among other things, I kind of wish I could have had a doula or midwife--an understanding woman or two of my very own--to see me through. Back then, the concept seemed a little out there, and I got no encouragement from family or friends or the medical community, though I was technically part of the Our Bodies, Ourselves generation. What was I thinking? Midwives or the like have been delivering babies far longer than physicians, and who better than another female to get the job done. On a much lighter note, I really wish I had had cute clothes. I love the way mothers-to-be accentuate their baby bump with tighter-fitting styles. I was of the just-cover-it-up, add-a-bow-and-maybe-no-one-will-notice generation. I looked more like a gift-wrapped gnome than the womanly earth mother I felt inside. Pregnancy is hot. Wish I'd known.