Last weekend the girls and I were heading home from our Saturday regular stops of library, lunch, groceries. I decided to avoid town traffic and went a way we don’ t usually go.
Along this route, I pointed to a church and said, “I threw up in that parking lot when Livie was in my tummy.”
Alyssa laughed and asked if I threw up in any parking lots when I was pregnant with her. I told her I did but not as many in Angola as I did in Huntington.
Olivia was thoughtful for a few minutes and then asked, “When I was in your tummy, how did the nurses get me out?”
*Tangent: I sort of love that she gives the nurses credit for getting her out instead of the doctor. Ha! End tangent.*
I heard Alyssa snort from her seat and looked in the rearview mirror at Olivia. She was watching me closely, very obviously expecting an answer.
I took a deep breath and told her, simply, that sometimes a mommy’s body makes room for the baby to come out and the nurses catch the baby as she comes out. And other times, the nurse or doctor has to make a cut in the mommy’s tummy to get the baby out.
This satisfied her for a minute.
Then she asked, “How did I even get in your tummy!?!”
Ohh, there it is.
This time Alyssa didn’t snort, she snickered. She’s read a couple of books I picked up at the library about this sort of thing so I could tell she was just waiting to hear how I explained conception to her six year old sister.
I started, “Well, a part of Daddy met with a part of me and it made you. Then you grew inside me until you were ready to be born.”
This wasn’t enough. Olivia asked again, “But how did those parts get inside you?”
Yikes! She’s a tough one.
I explained, “The part of me was already inside me. The part of Daddy…well, we kissed a lot.”
Now…cop out? Maybe but it satisfied her for the moment. She’s six. I’m not sure she needs me to draw her a diagram and explain the intricacies of sexual reproduction.
Alyssa gave me a nod, as if in approval of my answer. Olivia saw something shiny on the floor and my reprieve was set.