January 11, 2008

Seeing a lot of expectant moms makes me stop and reflect on the joys of pregnancy and childbirth. Retract that. Reflect on the joys of pregnancy. Childbirth sucks. Don’t believe all these women who tell you childbirth is a breeze. Especially natural childbirth. Either they’re bullshitting you, or were drugged during the process.

Giving birth is like shitting a watermelon. Get the picture?

I had two really easy pregnancies. No morning sickness. No weird cravings. No toxemia or other pregnancy-related issues. My only symptom was that I gained weight. But, I gained under 30 pounds with each pregnancy. It was great. Pregnancy was GREAT.

My oldest son, Chance, was 3 weeks early. From the time I went into labor until the time I delivered him in the hospital totaled 9 hours - and all via (unprepared) natural childbirth (27+ years ago). Chance weighed in at a little over 6 pounds.

After hours and hours of huffing and puffing, excruciating knuckle-bearing backbreaking pain, threats to kill Gar, and push, push, PUSH - late Saturday afternoon, with great resistance on his part, he finally hatched.

Recalling that the first time was bearable, I opted to have prepared natural childbirth with Nick. Besides, I’d been told my labor wouldn’t be as long the second time around. Wrong! The second time (and let me state right now - the last time) I was in labor for 33 hours. Yes! 33 freakin’ hours of stop and go I can do this sadist contortioning what the fuck was I thinking god rip this demon from my body I don’t wanna play bus driver anymore give me drugs NOW (which I never got!)!!

I can’t remember what I did last week, but I remember that day - vividly - 17+ years ago, like it was yesterday. I’ll spare the details and give the short version.

Nick was 3 weeks late. It had reached the point of inducing labor if he didn’t arrive soon. Then on a Friday morning in mid-October, I went into labor.

Nick was determined not to come out - I was determined he would. After hours and hours of huffing and puffing, excruciating knuckle-bearing backbreaking pain, threats to kill Gar, and push, push, PUSH - late Saturday afternoon, with great resistance on his part, he finally hatched.

Three weeks earlier, the doctor had been concerned about his “presentation” and had requested an ultrasound to make sure Nick wasn’t breech (it was also at that time I discovered it was a Nick and not a Nicole). Thankfully, not breech. Possibly just as bad though, Nick was “lounging” and had, by the end of the 3rd trimester, gotten wedged into an uncomfortable position with his hands over his head. And that is how he came out - hands first.

All this for a 6-1/2 pound baby.

By the time Nick finally arrived, I was in an delusional, altered stated, and I didn’t even need drugs to get there. My work was done, and all I wanted was just to sleep awhile. Seventeen years later, I’m still waiting.

Footnote: In the end, after it’s all said and done -and despite all of the above - I would do it again. Of course that would require rewinding the years. The joy and love a child gives far exceeds any of the pain endured to bring them into this world.

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