I’m sure someone warned me that upon the birth of your child, all modesty flies out the window. First of all, on the delivery table, they have you essentially naked-with a small gown and legs spread-eagled for all to see. Then they have nurses coming to look around in there, to poke and prod and supposedly diagnose progress. If I knew how many people would’ve been staring at my hoo-haw, I may never have had the guts to give birth!
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