Saying Goodbye to Privacy

Disclaimer: If you are weak stomached, haven't had children yet, are pregnant with your first child or have a penis you might want to reconsider reading this post. Continue at your own risk...

When you have children your privacy goes right out the window. It begins with pregnancy.

When I was pregnant with my first child, while all my sensibilities were still in tack along with my sanity, I had heard stories of such immodesty in the birthing room that I swore would never be me. Somehow I imagined I was going to keep my legs together and manage to birth a child at the same time. I wasn't actually sure of all the logistics but I was very sure that I was going to be as modest as possible considering the circumstances. I shouldn't have even considered it after already having to go through the indignities of pregnancy. I mean, peeing yourself (and calling the doc to tell them about it because it MIGHT have been your water breaking) should have been the only prelude I needed to the beginning of losing all contact with my privacy. Along with forceful, frequent vomiting that could occur in the most unlikely places like restaurant parking lots or the floor of Wal-Mart. People first want to push the privacy button by touching your stomach. I did not have alot of problems with this since I think I'm a pretty imposing person who's face doesn't invite you to touch her stomach. BUT no, I still had high hopes of retaining my sanity and modesty while giving birth....then I went into labor.

It was about 4 am and I had decided that maybe I could just use some duct tape and invent some method of strapping myself to the toilet so that I could sleep comfortably and urinate at the same time. I was wondering why someone hadn't already invented something wonderful like that because I would have been the first person in line to buy it. Everyone hears the old stories of pregnant women and the need to urinate but the fact that before this I was a fairly rational, sane person who would never have considered strapping myself to a toilet should give you some inclination of how much the need to urinate can consume your life, especially at the end. Well, here's what it starts getting graphic so ye, of weak stomach, turn back. I went to wipe and the toilet paper was bloody. Mmmm, new development. I'm pretty much not sleeping anyways so I might as well stay up and see what happens, is what I thought. So in the midst of a not nearly enough distracting game of mine sweep, the contractions start for serious. I don't feel the need to wake my husband. After all, I'm still a sensible, rational woman and I've read LOTS of books about labor. I mean after all, you want to be prepared for something like this. I had read that when you go into labor it will be a very VERY long time until you actually give birth so try to relax...don't run right to the hospital because you have plenty of time. I like to think of myself as a warrior who was preparing for battle....I was a woman preparing myself mentally for what might be the most trying and difficult day of my life, and I was never going to be the same again. My body, my spirit, my mind had been preparing for this moment almost a year. I was going to experience childbirth and the biggest change of all, at the end of this day, I was going to be a MOTHER. I was going to meet my baby. After about an hour of contractions I'm beginning to lose the part of myself that is rational. I'm still sensible though. So I call the hospital to inform them of the events that are transpiring at this moment and am told to wait at least another hour to make sure that's it's really labor and then to come to the hospital. How ,what I am experiencing, could be anything LESS than labor was a little scary. I mean, these people had to have no idea how much this hurt. I know, they've probably delivered 1000's of babies but at this moment in time, I think they can't possibly know how much pain I am in. At this point, since the rational part has flew out the window and I assume my sensibility will be the next thing to go, I wake my husband, who rolls over and complains that it can't be morning yet, why are we getting up. Well, I think I'm having a baby. Oh, now he's up. Wait, he needs to take a shower. I mean, I'll be the one giving birth to a baby through a very small canal with my legs in the air and seemingly every person within a 20 mile radius either sticking their hand or their head where it doesn't belong... BUT by all means, get good and clean, honey. After his shower, I think sensibility might be escaping as well and I decide it will take almost an hour to get to the hospital so we better start now cuz this HURTS. Away we go.

I think this story may take longer than one post so this seems an appropriate stopping point for now. Of course, at that moment in time I was thinking it would be a good stopping point as well. I mean, couldn't I just stay pregnant a little longer...I mean a year or two..until I read some MORE books..I mean aren't those suppose to prepare you for this...I had really wanted to have this baby but maybe pregnancy wasn't so bad..sorry I complained..could we just stop this nonsense and I could go back to BEFORE...I don't think I'm ready..I thought I was ready but I didn't know...Sorry, I didn't know...