Opinions are like Assholes

The realization that I was going to be a Mother in a matter of weeks had finally set it. We had the nursery set up, we had tons of diapers, wipes, clothes, baby containers and equipment. We were physically ready to bring a baby home. But I wasn't ready to deliver said baby. I had only know the baby was inside me for a few days, I wanted more time! Up until now, I had Joel, my parents, his parents, and our friends piling on the advice on what to do once the baby arrives. But ultimately, it was up to me and only me to actually get this baby out of me. No amount of advice can prepare a woman for that. To say I was petrified wouldn't do my feelings any justice. I wasn't scared about caring for the baby, I was scared about what my body was going have to go through.

I had choices to make. I knew right away that I wasn't going to be one of those Mom's who birthed a baby on the living room floor in a baby pool at home. My body has proven to be far to unpredictable. Any time I needed something medical done I end up with every complication known to man. I am medically challenged. I am the 1% complication rate, always have been and probably always will be. I needed to be in a hospital in the event that something went wrong. With an OR down the hall in case a C-Section was necessary and a NICU in case my baby needed extra care. Thank GOD I did give birth in a hospital because odds are, if I didn't, my baby wouldn't be here today. 

Let me spell one thing out for you. Giving birth is the hardest, most painful thing a woman does in her entire life. Birthing a child is comparable to breaking 20 bones at the same time. The human body can tolerate 45 units of pain. While giving birth, a Mother can feel up to 57 units. Read: Women are hands-down the stronger sex. HOW a woman chooses to give birth is nobody's choice but her own. Sorry Dads, Sisters, Friends, Mothers, MIL's, you don't get a say. Period. My MIL suggested I choose and un-medicated home birth, my cousin Carrie suggested I chose an un-medicated birth at a birthing center in a bath tub, my mother suggested giving birth in a hospital with an epidural. I chose to give birth MY way so I am in no way criticizing or judging women who chose another method. To each their own. So please don't view my blog as my advocating for pain relief or shaming Moms who choose to forgo it. Moving on. 

Joel was born at home. More power to my Mother In Law for choosing an un-medicated home birth. I have nothing but respect for that woman for enduring that. I don't think I could have done it. She even tried to give me a book about having a home birth, but I politely declined. That just wasn't for me. I wanted every pain management option available. I literally asked the triage nurse for an epidural before I even told her my name when we checked into the hospital. I have endured a lot of pain in my life through 15+ surgeries, a few broken bones, some stitches and a handful of hospital stays. I didn't have a choice but to experience pain through all of that. But while giving birth, I had a choice. A choice to be numb from the waist down and not have to feel that pain. Getting that epidural was the best decision I'd made to date. Bottom line, it was my choice and I'm damn proud of it. In my mind, it was like choosing to have surgery with or without anesthesia. Choosing to get stitches or having a bone set with or without lidocaine. I wanted the drugs. All of them. 

Not one blog I write would be complete without including something about my hilarious Mom. Warning, this might get graphic. Let's talk about my vagina. My mom took it upon herself to scare the living shit out of me by describing in graphic detail what was going to happen to my vagina and how it would feel. I'm surprised she didn't use visual aids such as a watermelon or cantaloupe. She told me in detail about the probability that I would tear from vagina to asshole. I might end up with a "vag-anus". Thankfully, I ended up one degree short of that. She told me I'd bleed for nearly six weeks after the birth and the chunks of tissue that would fall out of me would be the size of a ping pong balls. As usual, she was right. So very right. Holy hell. Nothing can prepare you for that feeling and seeing what your body expels afterwards. NOTHING. It was like a damn crime scene every time I went to the bathroom. My cousin, Carrie, said she felt like she got "f**ked by a walrus". I had never seen a walrus' penis, so I googled it. That was a terrible idea. But at the end of it, she was right. That is exactly how Labor and Delivery should be described. 

Bottom line, opinions are like assholes. Everyone has one. I made it real simple for Joel because it is very important that you tell your partner what you want regarding birth in case you are unable to speak for yourself. He would be my advocate in the event I couldn't advocate for myself. I told him I wanted all the drugs, and I wanted to leave that hospital intact with a healthy baby. If I ended up needing a C-Section, OK fine, do it. I certainly didn't go to medical school so I was not going to argue with the people who did. All that mattered to me was that I got the drugs and both me and my baby didn't die. THAT was my birth plan. The End. 

Spoiler Alert: I got the drugs and we both lived. 

Our first selfie together