Yes I said it. Bodily fluids. And some that aren't supposed to be fluids, but can turn out to be fluid-like.
At some point, no matter how hard you try, you will find some part of YOUR body drenched, covered, sticky, smelling like, or splattered with someone else's bodily fluid. And that someone else would be your lovely little bundle of joy.
I, for one, cannot stand bodily fluids. The thought of changing a diaper had, at one point, been enough to trigger my gag reflex. Bad. No matter who I babysat (mostly just my nephews) I never got used to the diaper changes. Never. Seeing babies spit up, nasty. Watching a baby's face distort and turn redder than a tomato and then listening to them grunt and then the nasty squishing sound that followed, KNOWING they had just filled their diaper and possibly everything else on top of it, made me wanna barf.
And then I had babies. Well, obviously not both of them at once. But you know what I mean.
I was watching American Idol. The season with Clay and Ruben. Fun times. Anyways, I was laying down on my back holding my 3 month old Alanna in the air. She was a helicopter. She was spinning and laughing and having a grand ol' time. I was smiling and laughing with her. And then.... with she was situated directly over my face.... BLUUURP. She spit up. A bottle full of milk. In my mouth.
Lydia, when she was even younger than Alanna had been.... was being changed in her little changing station. We were getting ready to go out somewhere, probably to my sister's... I don't remember, but she smelled a little stinky so I went to go check her diaper. No mess. Nice. Was getting ready to tape the diaper back up when the bottom half of my shirt got an impromptu shower. Lydia must have had a supersoaker for a bladder or something I swear. She peed on me. And let me tell you, it was impressive. I've never seen a little girl pee on someone who had jumped about a foot back from the changing table. I thought only boys could do that. No. OH no. I was so wrong.
My point... when I was not a mom.... the thought of bodily fluids made me want to get rid of my own, in the nicest way possible. Now? I honestly could care less. Well, wait. I take it back. I care... it's not like I like it. Like I don't want to clean myself off at the earliest possible moment. But it doesn't make me nauseous anymore. Unless it's someone else's child... but that's a whole nother story. My own kids? I'm good to go. I'm more than happy to clean them off, change their clothes, before I change my shirt, wash my hair, do whatever it is I need to do.
So please, be prepared to get spit up on, peed on, pooped on, and probably at some point a combination of all 3. And for a lot of you, be prepared for it to not bother you. Believe me, I have one of the weakest stomachs known to man when it comes to things like that.... rollercoasters, bucking boats/broncos, I can handle those with flying colors. But bodily fluids.... yeah better throw me my own bucket.
You'll be surprised what doesn't bother you, though, when you've got someone callin you mama. :-)