Wednesday, April 28, 2010
EGG SIZED HOLE, WATERMELON EXITING, YOU DO THE MATH.
Two of my best friends are pregnant. At this, I am super excited. Mainly because for the first time, I will be able to enjoy their kids as little babies without being pregnant myself.
Because this time there is no freaking chance in hell of myself and my husband conceiving (barring an immaculate conception) after his doctor basically obliterated the appropriate pathways with his soldering iron within my husbands nads, some years ago.
The subject of childbirth came up at a recent BBQ we all attended. Well, more specifically, I was trying to re-create the Malteasers ad where the pregnant lady gets her bump to “kick” a malteaser like a soccer ball.
Unfortunately, I was low on malteasers and as such, after rifling through the party bags, could only find a Chicco Baby to replace this. So, my friend Jodi, sat back (she’s 38 weeks pregnant) and I placed a lone Chicco baby on her blossoming stomach. She’s one of these bloody women, who all you see is baby, no excess fat, nothing but a baby wrapped in skin fronting some organs. So of course, we saw that baby almost sniff out that Chicco baby and go nuts. Unfortunately, this, along with giving us great entertainment, also gave her mild contraction type pains. All fun and games until someone goes into early labour.
And labour. SO. MUCH. FUN.
I mean, unless of course you are one of these enigmas who go to the toilet, pop out a baby telling anyone who’ll listen that they didn’t feel a thing. BULL FUCKING SHIT.
The only thing worse than going through labour again would be hearing that Human Nature are releasing another Motown record. Seriously.
And don’t get me wrong, I understand why there is pain. I mean let’s face it, we are dilating (opening) a closed hole to a hole that is 10cms in circumference (try that with your asshole boys and I think you’ll get my gist). I also recognise the fact, that after it’s all over, you are so god damn proud of yourself that, the fact a bow-tied male doctor you’ve never seen before is stitching up your vagina, is totally irrelevant.
And for the record, I’ve given birth naturally 3 times. With no drugs. This is due to one thing only. The bitches would not give me any. And I say that with the utmost respect to all midwives who are wonderful, inspiring ladies (and men). They clearly knew I could do it without them, even though all three times, I felt like I would rather die on the spot than go through one more contraction.
We got talking about the labour room on the weekend, and the fact that this time, I might get to go in with my girlfriend and see her have this baby. I am very excited, having never been down “that end” before. She told me last time (this will be her third child) she asked her husband to stroke her arm between contractions. He started in earnest to stroke her arm where she pointed. Whilst her head did not swivel 360 degrees, I believe it was the only action separating her and Linda Blair when she told him in no uncertain terms, “Not that way”. He was rubbing her arm the wrong way. Stupid stupid man. She then told him to leave the room so she could “do the next contraction alone”. Go Jode.
My husband tells me I neither swore nor shat on the table during any of my births. I hope he is telling me truth and that one day, in some sort of heated moment, he doesn’t spit at me the awful truth, that yes indeed I did foul up the room, he was just sparing me to be nice. Oh and I disagree with my husband. I distinctly remember in my last moments of birthing Jack, low growling through gritted teeth “Get this fucking thing out of me!”
What about these Scientology people who apparently have to give birth silently. To save the baby from stress. Good for them, but I dare say, that rule was written by a man and he needs to go back and read about my little 10cm’ anus stretching anecdote.
I distinctly remember the very first midwife I had with my very first birth, telling me to “leave my dignity on the shelf and go back and get it when you’re done”. That little piece of advice and “don’t forget the URAL” should be in every “What to Expect when you’re Expecting” type baby advice book.
I Hope I haven’t grossed you out today with this post. And to all those who had a baby through the sunroof, i.e. caesarean, please know I take nothing away from your birthing experience. Equally as painful and full on and who cares how the baby arrives, as long as it’s safe.
To my two best friends – I cannot wait to meet your two beautiful little lovelies when they arrive. Oh, and be sure to call me if you want your arm rubbed right. Teehee.