No Words To Describe

21 Jun

Lately, it seems like my childless friends are more and more curious about how the whole labor, delivery and parenting thing works. I can only imagine it is due to my impending D-day (delivery day) and that they are getting closer to signing their life away to children as well. The fact that I am getting so big that it looks like the baby might actually choose to just explode out of my abdomen Aliens-style probably doesn’t hurt either.

Honestly, sometimes I think I may prefer Aliens-style to, you know, the “natural” way.

And by “natural” I mean hopped up on whatever drugs (legal or not) I can get my hands on pre-, post- and during labor.

I absolutely love when my friends ask questions about pregnancy and parenting. Not that I’m all that educated on the topic, but since I’m the only one of us who has blown out their vag, I guess that makes me the resident expert (you know, besides our friend who is in medical school and actually is somewhat of an actual resident expert).

I do my best in these conversations to assuage the fears of my friends. Their biggest fears seem to gravitate towards said blowing out of vaginas, pooping on the table and just pain in general. Unfortunately, I’ve found that my filter-less honesty policy does more to freak the crap out of the girls than make them comfortable with the idea of childbirth.

Most of the time my friends leave these conversations looking completely terrified and double-checking their stock of condoms and birth control pills. Except for the one time I told them about our neighborhood’s Wine Play Date. That they were on-board with.

During one of our last conversations on the horrors and awesomeness of becoming a mother, as I excused myself to pee for the 51st time that evening, I had an epiphany of sorts…

…wait for it…

…no really, I’m drawing this out because it’s probably the lamest “epiphany” you will every read…

…okay, here it is…

While it’s really easy to describe and catalog the endless aches and pains of pregnancy, how in God’s green Earth are you supposed to explain to a non-parent the immediate and absolute bliss that comes with pushing out your baby and seeing him or her for first time?

Not to mention the delight of seeing your little one grow, learn and shape who they are and who they are going to be (in between temper tantrums, of course).

As hard as I try, the words just seem so dull and lackluster. I assure them, “No, no, really! The second you bust that baby out of you, all the pain goes away. You could care less about what has just happened, momnesia sets in, and all you care about in the world is this precious newborn laying on your chest.”

But in comparison to the nausea, backaches, urinary incontinence, pooping on the L&D table (which, I promise is not a big deal, people!! Just swear everyone in the room to secrecy and you‘ll never even know if you shit or not.), and possibly getting stitches to close up your butt-gina afterward, the “but your iddle widdle bebee is so precious” argument seems to get a little lost in the haze of fear.

My last pro-baby/vaginal birth argument always comes down to the fact that I am chicken shit AND had a pretty traumatic birth with Bee and I’m still going on this crazy ride again.

So I figure I’ll either convince my friends that pregnancy and childbirth is not really that bad or that I’m some weird freak who is in to S&M.

Maybe both. (wink wink)

Song title: No Words to Describe by Ever We Fall

2 Responses to “No Words To Describe”

  1. Betts June 21, 2010 at 8:40 am #

    There is probably only one group of people on which brute honesty about pregnancy and labor is useful… teenage girls.

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