You're Gonna Need It

Lately, Sam has been asking a ton of questions about how the baby gets out. She's extremely worried my stomach will explode the baby out, and I get that could seem like a legit fear at her age. Personally, I'm a little scared by the idea of a C-section myself, and that's hardy the baby "exploding" out, so I can only imagine how limited the options seem at 5. There's no exit!!!
Now, these are all normal things to be curious about, and she probably can't imagine the answers will be gross or potentially upsetting, so I'm not surprised nor upset she's asking them.
That doesn't mean I feel like answering them.

But, as I may have mentioned a time or two, deflecting Sam's questions is extremely hard to do for any extended period of time. She never forgets them. Minimizing information only seems to result in more follow-up questions. I figured I was either about to resort to a crazy lie about a cabbage patch (that she probably wouldn't buy), or I had to woman up and find a way to explain the truth that wouldn't be so gross or awe-inspiring she would feel the need to share the gory details at preschool's next show-and-tell. I often have a fear that some of Sam's more out-there questions will resurface and get me a call from the preschool teacher as Sam shares her new-found knowledge on various topics. I do not feel this fear is in the least bit irrational.

Finally, I found a video on Babycenter that seemed perfect. It was about labor and delivery, but it was computer-animation (therefore, no blood, screaming, or anything remotely traumatizing), and a side view cross-section (which pretty much eliminates Sam's ability to seek out or recognize equivalent parts on herself and worry about that). So it was all very academic, but would answer her questions.

Sure enough, Sam watched the video very intently, and as it got towards the end, she paused, looked at me and said "are they saying the baby is gonna come out that little tube?"

I said, "Yes."

Sam: "It's not gonna fit."

Me: "It stretches."

She wordlessly watched the rest of the video, made sure the baby would in fact make it out just fine. Then she turned to me with a deadpan face, said "Good luck" and walked away. She sounded exactly like the bad guy in Taken. She hasn't asked a single follow up question, or seemed upset at all in the days since.

Of course, there's always the option that she doesn't think for one minute that could possibly work in real life and I'll need all the luck I can get if I expect it to. I felt the same way when I first studied the reproductive system. Then again, I wasn't exactly five. Sam's always been advanced when it comes to skepticism and snark.