Right, I saw something on Facebook the other day that annoyed me. There was an innocent enough post about what would you advise someone put in their hospital bag when going in to have a wee one.
One of the comments was from a young woman voicing her annoyance about how the first thing she’s usually told is a birth ‘horror story’.
Before having William, I felt much the same. But then I had him. And I hate to say it ladies (and gents)….
Birth is traumatic.
Bear with me, please. Now I’m by no means saying you are going to have a horrible experience. Birth is both beautiful and traumatic. But it is traumatic. It hurts, you’re tired, you don’t have a bloody clue what’s going on. Because no matter how many books you read, how many classes you go to in order to prepare, it never pans out quite the way you think.
No-one had told me about all the blood. I thought I was dying. I didn’t know it was normal, I thought William was bleeding! I was tired, things hurt. They took me away form my husband and my baby into a rather sinister looking part of the hospital, to stitch up the alterations Wills had made to my downstairs with his ginormo head. I was frightened, It had been explained what was happening but I was exhausted and fuzzy from drugs. (Hospital drugs, to be clear). There were lots of people, I didn’t know who they were.
It was scary and beautiful, and for all the horrible bits I enjoyed giving birth. I’ve never felt more empowered or strong, never have I been more in awe of my body and what it could do.
Yet, it’s like were not supposed to talk about it. Like it’s a taboo. You will talk about it with mum friends, my NCT mummy friends gave very detailed accounts, and after having William it was fascinating to hear how different everybody’s birth was. But if you mention too often, to too many people, there is a collective grown ‘Oh god, here she goes again…’
Chances are she’s just trying to make sense on it.
If you are an expectant mummy, not enjoying all the horror stories, I promise you the closer you get to your due date, the more people you will ask about the whole birth thing. I asked my sister to go over in very fine detail. Friends of hubs made us dinner fairly early in my pregnancy and I wanted someone to tell me EXACTLY what it was like, and they did, with an amusing trump story thrown in! (Just to be clear, ‘trump’ means fart in the UK).
I also promise you this, the moment, the very instant that baby is placed on your chest, none of it matters, the pain, the blood, the alarming number of people that have seen your foof…
But still, talk about the birth. Get it off your chest. Discuss every gory detail, why shouldn’t you? Tell your partner/friends/relatives, it was tough and I need to talk about it.
But maybe go a little easy on expectant mammas…..
In other news:
Apparently Captain is a kleptomaniac, he piece of cord the neighbours child uses to play with Marms, dropped it on the carpet and proceeded to growl at it.
Spending some long overdue time with the sisters and madre today.
Had hideous nightmare that Marms became super muscly, she had the face of a cat but the body of a Staffordshire bull terrier *shudders*