What’s worse than a blog-neglecting bitch who can’t be bothered to update? Why, one who posts memes, of course.
Thus: The Childbirth Meme
How long was your labor?
Girl-child: 48 hours
Boy-child: 8 hours
How did you know you were in labor?
Girl-child: The Pitocin let me know right quick. Bastards.
Boy-child: Oh, I had made up my damn mind at that point. If you were reading the blog back then (or want to check any of the tags labeled “gestation,”) you’ll see the mood I was in. My husband and I woke up that day and were like, nuh-uh, we’re getting this started.
Where did you deliver?
Girl-child: Hospital from hell, with the lights and the yelling.
Boy-child: Floor of the bedroom, kneeling next to the bed.
Drugs?
Girl-child: Caved to the epidural.
Boy-child: Does my husband’s voice count? Seriously, they could bottle and sell it as a hypnotic…
C-section?
Girl-child: Fought it off.
Boy-child: Oh, there was a stretch there where I was begging for one.
Who caught? (the original meme says “delivered,” but we dont use that term here.)
Girl-child: A rather attractive young resident I’d just threatened with extreme violence if she brought those scissors any closer to my lady parts.
Boy-child: Actually, I did. Empowered, right?
The question unasked. Which was more traumatic? Door Number One, right?
Wrong.
It’s a year later (baby birthday pics to come) and I still seethe about a few things that happened during the little guy’s birth, which I didn’t go into in detail in the actual birth story. However, at the hospital I battled and won and was a pain in the ass throughout. The homebirth, of course, was supposed to be good and healing and I didn’t bother to butch up for it at all… quite the opposite in fact. I also neglected to realize that I could navigate things with my husband, but not when I had to deal in a completely different way with other, stranger people. And the midwife hated me. Hated me.
I spent a few weeks after the birth in an utterly shell-shocked state. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t bear my husband touching me. The birth is a nice memory, now, actually… there were some lovely moments between him and me, and the little guy was so damn sweet, and in some way I suppose it was empowering or whatever that passes for in my little part of the world, but I actually wanted to do it again after the hospital (and show them… show them all!) whereas right now, I assure you, I’m done. Factory: closed. The last little one has rolled off the assembly line.
