Everyone knows that pregnancy can be an anxious and trying time for women. For years, savvy people have created profitable ideas for helping women navigate the process.
A wise person once said that behind every heterosexual, pregnant, egg-donor-free, “traditionally”-married, monogamous woman is a man. As one of those men, I can assure you that we can use just as much help as our counterparts. That’s why today, I’m thrilled to announce the greatest business idea I’ve ever created.
Introducing: THE MOULA
Before embarking on the pregnancy journey, I thought a doula led tours around museums or lived in a historic old town and pretended to be living in the 1500s while making jokes about cameras being witching devices.
As it turns out, however, the doula is more like a pregnancy coach whose job is to lead a woman through the birthing process. Months before a pregnant woman gives birth, she meets with the doula and concocts a plan. This plan includes decisions like whether she wants pain medication during the throes of birth. The doula (aka the enforcer) helps the woman during delivery when her husband is either passed out on the floor or so terrified of his wife’s pain that he’s incapable of making sound decisions. The reason the doula can do this is because she’s seen it all before – even a placenta – so she has no fear. She doesn’t care if a woman is writhing in pain and erupting a human being out of her nethers. If that woman didn’t want pain medication 5 months earlier when she was doing yoga, then the doula knows she doesn’t really need a little morphine drip.
But enough about doulas. Women have plenty of resources to guide them through delivery. But what do we guys have? Nothing! We’re flying blind. That’s why I’ve invented the moula: a doula for men.
The moula and I will meet months before the delivery. During our initial meeting, we’ll outline a man plan to address some of the concerns I have about the birthing process. Like what to do when I pass out.
In addition, the moula will take responsibility for the following:
- After Anne’s first contraction, every five minutes the moula will ask her, “Anne, can we go to the hospital now? I know it’s not technically time, but Rob is very worried about hitting traffic.” This way, I can stand by the door, jingle my keys, and tap my foot without stressing Anne out. When she’s ready, we can leave.
- The moula will pack my “go bag” well in advance of delivery. The go bag will have all essential birthing items, including an iPad, three chargers, tasty snacks, the camera, a draft of my birthing live blog post, a Snickers in case someone says “not going anywhere for a while?” celebratory cigars, smelling salts, a change of clothes in case I accidentally get afterbirth on my shirt, and the 80 to baby chart in case I can sneak in a quick workout between contractions.
- During delivery, the moula will guide me on where to stand. I’ve been advised to “stay in the north end zone no matter what.” The moula should intuitively understand what this means and guide me accordingly.
- Once my parents and in-laws show up, the moula will have sole responsibility for communicating with them.
- The moula will reject any dumb sounding names and brainstorm all offensive nicknames that will haunt the kid for life.
- During delivery, he’ll stand in the south end zone and watch closely for genitals and yell out “PENIS” or “VAGINA” as soon as possible.
- When I pass out, the moula will apply the smelling salts and bring me a little cup of apple juice. Per our birthing plan, I have given prior authorization for immediate injection of morphine if I go down.
- He’ll pre-cut the umbilical cord so that I don’t have to do as much of the gross part.
- Once delivery is complete, the moula will a) ask me if we have the kid before we leave the hospital and b) demonstrate installation of the car seat.
- He’ll laugh at all my jokes. No exceptions.
If you’re reading this and think you’d make a great moula, please let me know. Applications will be considered for the next 3 months.