I had no idea my kids would learn all they needed (and then some) about labour and delivery from watching Animal Planet.

Hanna and Chloe spent the better part of a ten minute car ride relaying the following scene they had just witnessed on Animal Planet while I was obliviously showering.

“So there’s this Mother cat named Pitchopara” (it turns out, the cat’s name was actually Cleopatra).

“Piopartra (Cleopatra) goes into labour and is expecting a litter.”

At this point, we have never discussed birthing litters or human multiples, or the labour experience as a whole.

“Polopatra is in labour for so many hours, she’s in stress and the Doctors are worried.”

Huh. That does sound stressful.

“The Doctors realize she has just one cat in her tummy instead of 4 which is normal for a first litter.”

It is?

“Then she tries to deliver the cat the natural way. You know, natural?”

Gulp. I sure do.

“But she can’t because the one baby cat is way too big.”

Been there.
“So they have to do surgery on Pleapatra to get the giant cat out.”

Did they show you (the unsupervised television audience?) the surgery?

“No, that would be gross but we know what happens anyway.”

Um, err, you do?

“Then the baby’s born and the experts have to come in and feed it because the Mom is too weak.”

Enter the wet nurse.

“Preolatra and the big baby get together but the baby cat (can we start calling it a kitten so late in the story?) doesn’t know how to latch, you know, latch Mom?”

Yes, of course. Now I’m starting to feel insulted.

“It’s a happy ending. The big cat latches onto the Mom’s nipples or whatever (nipples or whatever is said with great speed and is slurred to emphasize the awkwardness) and they bond and recognize each other.”

Thank you Animal Planet.

My work here is done.