I'm a fairly clean person. I shower at least four times a week, wear deodorant, brush my teeth regularly, and shave as much as I can before I'm interrupted by a child and am forced to stop mid-calf.
When I was pregnant with my first daughter, I continued shaving my bikini area up until it was physically impossible to reach that part of my body. That day, my husband and I were on our "babymoon" and I decided to hop in the shower and clean myself up before we went to dinner. I grabbed my razor and started going to town. At this point, my belly was so far past the point of absconding the view of my feet that I had to do a weird half-lunge and squat to even get the razor to touch my bikini area, but I managed to get it done and hopped (aka "waddled breathlessly") out of the shower to get dressed for dinner. Just then my husband walked in and saw me and yelled, "Oh my god! Are you okay? You're bleeding!!" I found my way to a full length mirror and saw I did a Sweeney Todd on my crotch region. That's when I decided I wasn't going to be shaving again until this baby came out of me.
By the time I was pregnant with my third child, I had learned my lesson and didn't even try to trim the hedges during the nine months she was in my body. This was the first time I completely let it go and, even though I couldn't see it, I'm sure my nether-region resembled that of a 70's porn star.
When it came time to give birth, I was getting prepped for my c-section when the doctor lifted the paper sheet covering my forest and then whispered something to the nurse next to her, who then whispered to someone else, who immediately left the room. I was confused but in too much pain to give a crap as to what was going on. The nurse put a blanket under me while the other nurse returned with this black box. Oh, they're going to shave me! I remembered going through this with my past two deliveries, but both of those times I had at least attempted to clean up my area before having the baby. This time? Nothing.
So they open the box and chat with each other for a second. I honestly have no idea what my situation is down there so I just lay my head back on the bed and breath through the contractions. I hear the razor start and feel something fall on my face. I picked it up -- "No. No. No. No. No!" I look up at the nurses and they are wearing face masks due to the amount of coarse, curly hair flying in the air. It was like watching them make it snow -- and it snowed for ten straight minutes.
I shouted to my husband, "Don't look at me, Chris! Turn around! TURN AROUND!" Yes, he's seen me when I'm not at my best -- snotty nose, throwing up, bloody underwear, etc -- but I knew if he saw what was happening I would have murdered the smallest bit of mystery left in our marriage. Not murdered, massacred. I would have run up and blindfolded Mystery, shoved it in my trunk, took it to the river, put a bullet in its head, and thrown it bound and gagged into the icy water. It's dark, but true.
According to a un-named magazine that I just read, there are a number of ways to take care of your situation before the baby comes. You can schedule a wax close to your delivery date (because nothing says "relaxing" like being nine months pregnant and have the crotch hair yanked from your body). I got my eyebrows waxed once and I'm still crying about it. Oh, and apparently it's sexy to have your spouse "clean you up" before giving birth. Me? I prefer a massage or breakfast in bed, but maybe your thing is shaving each other's privates. I don't know. No judgments here.
So, for all of you who are preparing to give birth soon, I strongly encourage, no URGE, you to deal with your "situation" before it's too late. Yes, there are lots of things you don't care about while in labor (people staring at your crotch, farting, yelling, cussing, etc), but this is one you'll end up regretting if you don't listen to me. I mean it. And I'm always right -- just ask my husband.