Hospital Bathroom Antics

Bic Razor in Acrylic Glass
Bic Razor in Acrylic Glass (Photo credit: davidgreystahl)
I wrote a little while ago about my surreal experience being prepared for an emergency Caesarian Section when a small nurse "sorted out" my lady garden area with a small disposable razer and no water. If you missed it, the link is at the end of this post.
This was quite a painful experience, with razor burn and post op healing combined. All together now-  OOOUUUCH!

Fast forward to the future (insert twinkly music and a wavy blurry effect here) and I found myself once more hugely pregnant with a less than neat lower area hair-do. I heard a fab description by a fellow blogger recently - Bikini Beard - and I think that just about sums it up.

Let me explain some mitigating circumstances. Due to Baby being an awkward bugger with what they describe as an unstable lie I had been sentenced  admitted to hospital- and ended up in there for a whole month.
I had a bump the size of a space hopper. If you don't know what one of those is - go away you are too young to be reading this. Anyway, it was big and my arms ( along with everything else actually) are short.  And for the first time I noticed that none of the mirrors in the maternity ward bathrooms were lower than nose level ( well for me anyway) so quite hard and probably dangerous to attempt any vajaja shaving alone.
Well anyway I'm more of a Veet girl myself. Never been brave enough to try waxing, plucking or epilating that region. So I came up with a cunning plan.

madmumof7 and her beauty therapist  DH
DH visited most evenings so once I'd got a delivery date I instructed him to purchase bikini line lotion and come prepared to defuzz. He seemed quite keen. Bear in mind I'd been in hospital for almost a month at this point. Any chance to see me naked, even while applying noxious chemicals, was better than nothing he said.

We decided the space between beds on the ward was not big enough and even with the curtain round was a bit public. We headed for the maternity ward bathroom. I locked the door. I stood on the little step they have in the bathroom to help the preggy fat girls to get in the bath and saw myself in the high mounted mirror looking like a python that had swallowed a globe. DH crouched and started spreading. The cream. (filthy minds you  lot have!)

I looked down. DH had his nose about 5cms from my... well you know. His face was scrunched up with concentration as he practiced his plastering skills.
I just howled with laughter and my belly shook - well like a bowl full of jelly. I became slightly hysterical. I finally calmed down enough to rinse the stuff and what looked like a small rat off my "doorway to heaven" and climbed out of the bath to see DH eyeing me with what looked suspiciously like passion in his eyes. This set me off laughing like a loon again.

Tempted as I was to be probably the first woman on the maternity ward to have a quickie in the bathroom (Mile High Club? Mile Wide Club more like!) I turned his kind offer down and waddled back towards my ward followed by my slightly disgruntled DH.

Walking onto the ward I was greeted by wide-eyed and highly amused mums-to be who apparently had spotted us heading to the bathroom together, heard me shrieking and cackling and assumed we had in fact done the dirty! I was very sorry to disappoint them.

However, if anyone out there has a similar story with a different ending I would love to hear it!

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