Dear Maclaren,
I wanted to compliment you on how easy it was to request the hinge cover kits and how quickly they arrived. I am the proud owner of TWO Maclarens and I ADORE them both. Personally, I think I should work in your marketing department because I am already doing the work.
Children can be injured with the very same kid-safe spoon that they eat lunch with when parents aren't watching them. This hinge/finger issue is the same sort of issue - a no brainer! Move your child out of the way when you open and close the stroller!
I find it abhorrent that companies like yours and the manufacturers of blinds/roman shades with pull cords are under scrutiny right now because people are too lazy or don't care enough to be attentive to their own children.
Unfortunately, these parents cause us to all be treated to the lowest common denominator. It frustrates me to no end because even as astute parents, we are not spared the mandatory lectures or regimens at the doctors office, installing carseats, at school, etc. I suppose theey can no longer risk delineating between a parent who has some common sense and those who do not.
I just wanted you to know you're doing a great job! Keep up the good work!
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Three mortifying days with a three year old heathen!
He is too smart for his own damn good. Wil has said/done the following things over the past three days. I always thought when I heard similar stories that someone had coached the child into the precocious thing he said or did but I know otherwise now.
On Saturday we were hanging out with my Grandparents, letting them spend time with the kids since we only see them a few times a year. My dad (Wil calls him Papa) was laying on the floor playing airplane with both kids. Wil was standing with his back to Papa playing with something on the table and Papa kept nipping Wil in the butt. Wil said "Stop it, Papa!" and my dad played coy, "What? I didn't do anything..." and Wil turned to keep playing. Papa did it again and played coy again - and Wil said "You're poking me in the ASS!" The killer was that he did not say it in a fresh mouth way, he was just using a word. He was annoyed with Papa, had no idea he even said a bad word! My jaw dropped and I stared at my grandmother who sorta laughed. Only in front of the Great Grandparents, right?!
On Sunday I was peeing while Wil was running around upstairs and he caught a glimpse of me finishing up on the pot. He said, "Mumma, do you pee out your butt?" I was honest but clinical as I explained that girls have vaginas and boys have penises. I verbally ran through an explanation where I matched his equipment up with Justin and Georgia's up with mine to give him a concept of the differences between boys and girls. He said "No, Mumma! Georgia has a penis too!"
On Monday Wil, Georgia and I were having breakfast (amazing scratch pancakes by Josh Jones) with Josh and Beej. We were seated around the dining room table in our pajamas and just chatting away. It was the one time during our visit to Nashville that Beej wasn't visible only from the eyes up (behind her laptop) and I wasn't chasing a wild ass kid around the house like a maniac - the first real quality time we'd all spent together. Wil stands up in his chair and says "Hey Uncle Josh, I have a big penis! See?" and pulls his thermal pants down and thrusts his hips forward. OH MY GOD!
How does Wil at age 3 even know that "big" is a preferred term with penis? Nobody talks to him about that stuff? He doesn't watch that kind of TV?
Beej LOST HER SHIT and laughed so hard she was snorting and hooting and heaving and crying. I snatched Wil up and took him into the bathroom, sat him down, and looked him in the eyes (trying so hard not to smile or laugh) and said "That was totally inappropriate behavior! You cannot show people your Penis at the breakfast table or anywhere else! It's private! You cannot do that..." and blah, blah, blah. He didn't miss a beat... He said "But Auntie BJ is laughing..." as if that made it okay. Hell, I was laughing! It was an impossible situation. Before we left the bathroom, I made him wash his hands.
O
On Saturday we were hanging out with my Grandparents, letting them spend time with the kids since we only see them a few times a year. My dad (Wil calls him Papa) was laying on the floor playing airplane with both kids. Wil was standing with his back to Papa playing with something on the table and Papa kept nipping Wil in the butt. Wil said "Stop it, Papa!" and my dad played coy, "What? I didn't do anything..." and Wil turned to keep playing. Papa did it again and played coy again - and Wil said "You're poking me in the ASS!" The killer was that he did not say it in a fresh mouth way, he was just using a word. He was annoyed with Papa, had no idea he even said a bad word! My jaw dropped and I stared at my grandmother who sorta laughed. Only in front of the Great Grandparents, right?!
On Sunday I was peeing while Wil was running around upstairs and he caught a glimpse of me finishing up on the pot. He said, "Mumma, do you pee out your butt?" I was honest but clinical as I explained that girls have vaginas and boys have penises. I verbally ran through an explanation where I matched his equipment up with Justin and Georgia's up with mine to give him a concept of the differences between boys and girls. He said "No, Mumma! Georgia has a penis too!"
On Monday Wil, Georgia and I were having breakfast (amazing scratch pancakes by Josh Jones) with Josh and Beej. We were seated around the dining room table in our pajamas and just chatting away. It was the one time during our visit to Nashville that Beej wasn't visible only from the eyes up (behind her laptop) and I wasn't chasing a wild ass kid around the house like a maniac - the first real quality time we'd all spent together. Wil stands up in his chair and says "Hey Uncle Josh, I have a big penis! See?" and pulls his thermal pants down and thrusts his hips forward. OH MY GOD!
How does Wil at age 3 even know that "big" is a preferred term with penis? Nobody talks to him about that stuff? He doesn't watch that kind of TV?
Beej LOST HER SHIT and laughed so hard she was snorting and hooting and heaving and crying. I snatched Wil up and took him into the bathroom, sat him down, and looked him in the eyes (trying so hard not to smile or laugh) and said "That was totally inappropriate behavior! You cannot show people your Penis at the breakfast table or anywhere else! It's private! You cannot do that..." and blah, blah, blah. He didn't miss a beat... He said "But Auntie BJ is laughing..." as if that made it okay. Hell, I was laughing! It was an impossible situation. Before we left the bathroom, I made him wash his hands.
O
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Bad AND Funny Parenting...
Since he turned 18 months old, Wil has been trying to give up his naps. We continued to push back and at least put him in his crib for quiet time if not actual sleep. Every month he got a little more wakeful and stubborn about not sleeping. On the days when I was lucky enough to trick him into sleep during naptime, he would lie in bed wide awake until 10 or 11pm, after being put to bed at 9pm.
I have to say that he normally sleeps a solid 12 hours at night, and doesn't wake until 8 or 8:30 am. Most of his classmates arrive at school by 7am, and many of them have been up for an hour at that point.
Contrary to popular belief in my family, I did NOT give up his naps easily. I tried everything! I really needed his naptime with a newborn baby around. I only finally gave it up once I realized I was spending a huge amount of my day (often 2 hours) fighting with a 2 year old who thought it was a very funny game to run out of his room, right into my waiting arms, only to have me put him right back in there - not matter how emotionless I tried to be. Often, he was more amped up from running and struggling with me after 30 minutes of naptime than he was when we went into his room. I blacked out his room in the most mortifying method: I taped a navy blue shower curtain liner to the glass of his windows, under a layer of plantation blinds which are covered by a double layer curtains. Oh, our neighbors totally love us for that one! I tried soothing stories, rocking him, and even lying down with him (although I firmly hated that one).
At times when I did get him to lie still in his bed, I would wait outside the door for labored breathing sounds and stillness. More than once I waited through complete stillness for 2 chapters of a book (at least 20 mins) and fully expected to celebrate my victory and when I'd peek in, DAMN if his eyes weren't open and now he saw me and the games begin again! I spent more time frustrated with Wil last summer than not, and the whole thing felt AWFUL.
Finally, I took the power away from him and stopped trying. If we didn't have a naptime to fight about, we could enjoy eachother more. I'm not sure he ever noticed it missing, other than both our moods improving. It also meant I put him to bed at least an hour earlier which was minor victory for me being a human being, not just a mom.
When he started pre-school I winced when I learned that by state law, the kids have to lie down (not necessarily sleep, but lie down) for a certain period each day. I figured he'd learn by watching the other kids. At first, he did okay but he slowly decended into no naps and playing the same games with his poor teachers. After many talks with the teachers, I was afraid he'd be asked to leave. One of the things the pre-school asked us to try was send notes in his lunchbox each day encouraging a nap. Justin and I take turns writing them, and sometimes I'll recruit Nana to do one just to keep it fresh for him.
I have to say that he normally sleeps a solid 12 hours at night, and doesn't wake until 8 or 8:30 am. Most of his classmates arrive at school by 7am, and many of them have been up for an hour at that point.
Contrary to popular belief in my family, I did NOT give up his naps easily. I tried everything! I really needed his naptime with a newborn baby around. I only finally gave it up once I realized I was spending a huge amount of my day (often 2 hours) fighting with a 2 year old who thought it was a very funny game to run out of his room, right into my waiting arms, only to have me put him right back in there - not matter how emotionless I tried to be. Often, he was more amped up from running and struggling with me after 30 minutes of naptime than he was when we went into his room. I blacked out his room in the most mortifying method: I taped a navy blue shower curtain liner to the glass of his windows, under a layer of plantation blinds which are covered by a double layer curtains. Oh, our neighbors totally love us for that one! I tried soothing stories, rocking him, and even lying down with him (although I firmly hated that one).
At times when I did get him to lie still in his bed, I would wait outside the door for labored breathing sounds and stillness. More than once I waited through complete stillness for 2 chapters of a book (at least 20 mins) and fully expected to celebrate my victory and when I'd peek in, DAMN if his eyes weren't open and now he saw me and the games begin again! I spent more time frustrated with Wil last summer than not, and the whole thing felt AWFUL.
Finally, I took the power away from him and stopped trying. If we didn't have a naptime to fight about, we could enjoy eachother more. I'm not sure he ever noticed it missing, other than both our moods improving. It also meant I put him to bed at least an hour earlier which was minor victory for me being a human being, not just a mom.
When he started pre-school I winced when I learned that by state law, the kids have to lie down (not necessarily sleep, but lie down) for a certain period each day. I figured he'd learn by watching the other kids. At first, he did okay but he slowly decended into no naps and playing the same games with his poor teachers. After many talks with the teachers, I was afraid he'd be asked to leave. One of the things the pre-school asked us to try was send notes in his lunchbox each day encouraging a nap. Justin and I take turns writing them, and sometimes I'll recruit Nana to do one just to keep it fresh for him.
Justin handed me the following note as I was packing Wil's lunchbox. I always feel a little intrusive if I read it, it seems private, but that is silly since the teachers have to read it to Wil. When I read it, I died laughing.
Clearly, it was a joke and Justin wrote another one for the lunchbox but we did post it on the refrigerator for amusement. Thankfully, Wil cannot read many words other than his name right now! I will put this is his baby book for his adult sense of humor!
PS: After the Christmas break, we started waking him up at 6 or 6:30am and putting him in our bed with the TV on PBS while we sleep for another hour or so. It works like a charm - he's totally taking naps at school now. SUCKER!
O
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Mother / Son bathroom bonding...
My friend Dave has always laughed at me for doing this "sales" thing to him when we are just hanging out talking. He accuses me of offering up an idea and then nodding vehemently and at the very end of my idea, I slightly shrug my shoulders, while still nodding, to gain the listeners buy in.
It would go like this: "I don't know why everyone underestimates Gen X'ers, particularly late Gen X'ers by saying we are bitter, we have no identity, and no idea what to do for a living. I think [nod] people labeled us that after the grunge movement but before we [nod, nod] were at an age to actually be decidedly entrenched in careers. How can you make a generalization [nod, nod, nod] like that about a group of people who were still [nod, nod, nod, nod] under 25 at the time. Check [nod, nod, nod, nod, nod] those statistics now. We were just purposefully slow starters and late [shrug while still nodding] bloomers."
So this morning, I was getting Wil and Georgia ready to leave the house and Wil was taking a big dump. Once he finally finished the dump portion of his visit to the potty, he was able to pee. While peeing, he said "Mumma, Pee is gross...!" all the while nodding with a slight shrug at the end while still nodding to gain my buy in on his statement thought. He just turned 3 last month.
I left Dave a voicemail on my way to work, thanking him for pointing that out all these years if for no other reason than I was able to recognize the moment....
Also, Dave is ALWAYS amused by my writing style. He says he can picture me talking to myself as I write, and that all I'm actually doing is writing down conversations I have with myself. He thinks I'm wordy, but ususally interesting and funny enough to pull it off. I think of him alot when I edit myself. I'm okay with this.
0
It would go like this: "I don't know why everyone underestimates Gen X'ers, particularly late Gen X'ers by saying we are bitter, we have no identity, and no idea what to do for a living. I think [nod] people labeled us that after the grunge movement but before we [nod, nod] were at an age to actually be decidedly entrenched in careers. How can you make a generalization [nod, nod, nod] like that about a group of people who were still [nod, nod, nod, nod] under 25 at the time. Check [nod, nod, nod, nod, nod] those statistics now. We were just purposefully slow starters and late [shrug while still nodding] bloomers."
So this morning, I was getting Wil and Georgia ready to leave the house and Wil was taking a big dump. Once he finally finished the dump portion of his visit to the potty, he was able to pee. While peeing, he said "Mumma, Pee is gross...!" all the while nodding with a slight shrug at the end while still nodding to gain my buy in on his statement thought. He just turned 3 last month.
I left Dave a voicemail on my way to work, thanking him for pointing that out all these years if for no other reason than I was able to recognize the moment....
Also, Dave is ALWAYS amused by my writing style. He says he can picture me talking to myself as I write, and that all I'm actually doing is writing down conversations I have with myself. He thinks I'm wordy, but ususally interesting and funny enough to pull it off. I think of him alot when I edit myself. I'm okay with this.
0
Saturday, December 13, 2008
I'm not embarassed to admit..
It is one of my beliefs that good parents never necessarily wanted babies, they wanted a family. People who wanted "babies", meaning those sweet smelling swaddled bundles of warmth and peace, and those women to talk about lullabies and rocking chairs... I worry about them. I worry that they'll lose interest in their kids once they are no longer babies.
I think the 0-5 years are the most difficult, the most dreaded for me. I long for each new sign of independence. I wanted a family and that lifelong committment to people you love no matter what. I wanted to nurture, love, and build strong healthy individuals who I am so interestered to see what they accomplish in this life. I knew the sweet smell of a baby would turn to stanky diapers and spit-up before I could imagine it. No, I never did crave babies, but I was sure willing to do the baby years to get a family.
Maybe you're saying that I don't know what I'm talking about because my kids are 3 and 1. I'm basing this on having sisters born when I was 17 and 19 years old and having a very active role in their upbringing. I'm also basing this on my parents taking in foster babies, and mostly medically fragile ones for most of my teenage years. It was a family effort, we all loved it and pitched in. It was my mom's full time work, and she felt very strongly about this work and it showed. She got many accolades for her dedication and committment to these kids. My parents made a point not to "adopt" but to keep these babies until they went into adoptive risk homes (hopefully their last stop in the state foster care system). It was also a fabulous birth control method for teens considering sexual activity. Even my horny guy friends were more cautious. I did learn how lovely babies are but I also grew an awesome respect for the amount of work they require.
As a parent, I'm more interested in each new age. I want them to walk, and talk, and potty train, and argue with me, and tell me they want "Daddy!" because I know that means a small person is forming right there in front of me. Holy shit! I have contributed to the creation of a person with an identity of their own who might someday have my voice in their head. Doing the right thing never held more importance than when you have children. They see how you sit on the toilet and they see you roll your eyes when your mother is on the phone AGAIN that day. They know all your deep dark secrets, if not by name, by feel.
That said, I make every attempt to be real - I am not a parent who puts on a happy front at all times for my kids, but I do very much try to keep the negative burdens manageable for them. I disagree with parents who feel that your child should never feel that you're disappointed in them or mad at them. Hell yeah, I'm mad! You just bit me you little fucker! I'm pissed as hell and it hurts! I don't want to see you now. Go away. There is nothing wrong with this. If I approve of everything my kids do, how will they know the good from the bad? I will not raise one of those kids. That is how the real world works and I'm doing my children a disservice to purposely spare them of that notion until they go out there on their own?!?
O
I think the 0-5 years are the most difficult, the most dreaded for me. I long for each new sign of independence. I wanted a family and that lifelong committment to people you love no matter what. I wanted to nurture, love, and build strong healthy individuals who I am so interestered to see what they accomplish in this life. I knew the sweet smell of a baby would turn to stanky diapers and spit-up before I could imagine it. No, I never did crave babies, but I was sure willing to do the baby years to get a family.
Maybe you're saying that I don't know what I'm talking about because my kids are 3 and 1. I'm basing this on having sisters born when I was 17 and 19 years old and having a very active role in their upbringing. I'm also basing this on my parents taking in foster babies, and mostly medically fragile ones for most of my teenage years. It was a family effort, we all loved it and pitched in. It was my mom's full time work, and she felt very strongly about this work and it showed. She got many accolades for her dedication and committment to these kids. My parents made a point not to "adopt" but to keep these babies until they went into adoptive risk homes (hopefully their last stop in the state foster care system). It was also a fabulous birth control method for teens considering sexual activity. Even my horny guy friends were more cautious. I did learn how lovely babies are but I also grew an awesome respect for the amount of work they require.
As a parent, I'm more interested in each new age. I want them to walk, and talk, and potty train, and argue with me, and tell me they want "Daddy!" because I know that means a small person is forming right there in front of me. Holy shit! I have contributed to the creation of a person with an identity of their own who might someday have my voice in their head. Doing the right thing never held more importance than when you have children. They see how you sit on the toilet and they see you roll your eyes when your mother is on the phone AGAIN that day. They know all your deep dark secrets, if not by name, by feel.
That said, I make every attempt to be real - I am not a parent who puts on a happy front at all times for my kids, but I do very much try to keep the negative burdens manageable for them. I disagree with parents who feel that your child should never feel that you're disappointed in them or mad at them. Hell yeah, I'm mad! You just bit me you little fucker! I'm pissed as hell and it hurts! I don't want to see you now. Go away. There is nothing wrong with this. If I approve of everything my kids do, how will they know the good from the bad? I will not raise one of those kids. That is how the real world works and I'm doing my children a disservice to purposely spare them of that notion until they go out there on their own?!?
O
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Who on earth asked??
So after reading my "Because you asked.." blog, a very good friend could not believe another friend of mine would ask if childbirth was "worth it". I don't blame her one bit for her question. Here is my response to her:
My friend Priscilla asked me what childbirth was really like - she did not ask if it was worth it. Of course we all know it's worth it. What you don't always know and can't understand until you actually have the kid is HOW worth it.
I could have EASILY been one of those women who never had children. You knew me back when... It might have been a twinge of something I missed here and there as I got older, but you know Justin and I weren't trying to give up our package vacations and stuff and stuff. We had to come to terms with how to continue to have that stuff with Wil and we decided Wil is just going to have to be cool like us. I don't think parents really consider that before having kids. He is just GOING to be the one 4 year old you see helping old ladies find their gates at the airport. He is going to have his own passport and his own luggage (and I will not be the MOM of his shit). He will learn to pack his own bag and don't bring shit you can't carry by yourself and he is going to learn that life is what you make it and you take the fun with you. I was never scared of this responsibility of teaching him how to be his own person - THIS is parenting. Parenting is not picking out cute outfits and buying a station wagon.
My friend Priscilla asked me what childbirth was really like - she did not ask if it was worth it. Of course we all know it's worth it. What you don't always know and can't understand until you actually have the kid is HOW worth it.
I could have EASILY been one of those women who never had children. You knew me back when... It might have been a twinge of something I missed here and there as I got older, but you know Justin and I weren't trying to give up our package vacations and stuff and stuff. We had to come to terms with how to continue to have that stuff with Wil and we decided Wil is just going to have to be cool like us. I don't think parents really consider that before having kids. He is just GOING to be the one 4 year old you see helping old ladies find their gates at the airport. He is going to have his own passport and his own luggage (and I will not be the MOM of his shit). He will learn to pack his own bag and don't bring shit you can't carry by yourself and he is going to learn that life is what you make it and you take the fun with you. I was never scared of this responsibility of teaching him how to be his own person - THIS is parenting. Parenting is not picking out cute outfits and buying a station wagon.
Thursday, June 1, 2006
Because you asked...(more for the ladies)!
Probably more for the girls...
A friend recently asked how terrifying childbirth really was. In a previous blog (which I wrote AFTER having my son) I listed "childbirth" as one of the three unresolved fears that I live with to this day (the other two are needles and bugs). Naturally, my answer to her question cannot be simple but please note that I wouldn't tell the story unless she asked.
Also, in preface to this blog, I heard a phrase the other day and my blog is exactly why this phrase was coined. You're supposed to use this phrase when you want to hurry someone to the point of any kind of story (not just childbirth stories). The phrase is, "Enough about the delivery - tell us about the baby!" It's so true that new mothers want to talk about the delivery more than the baby. I guess that is because for 10 + months all we heard was everyone else's damned UNSOLICITED advice and labor stories which honestly are boring as hell to everyone but the person telling it.
We all vow never to be that girl, telling her 14 hour delivery story to everyone who will listen the moment they spot a waddling, huffing, puffing pregnant girl! I also vowed never to look at pregnant women with that irritating "oh-you-poor-thing-I've-been-there-and-I-understand" smile, I hated that as much as I hated people telling me to "get your rest now, haha!" AS IF I DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW!!! But I guess maybe they didn't know during their first pregnancy so they feel like you don't either. We don't all go into this with our fairy tale helmets on...
There are many irritating things about pregnancy, and so many scary things, and so many wonderful things. The bottom line is that everyone has their own experience, no matter what 9 out of 10 other women experienced. You can get worked up or you can just deal... The best advice was always from other recently new moms and it came in the form of ITEMS they found helpful, not ways they handled things, or books they read, or how they felt, or how everloving helpful their fucking mothers were. The BOPPY was a nice piece of advice, the BODY PILLOW was a good thing to tell me about but hey you can keep the rest of it to yourself. Don't even get me started on the speeches we endure from veteran miscarriage sufferers...that is really a new blog for another time.
Anyway - here is my story, but it is not intended to scare or comfort you either way. You will do it your own way, in your own time. I am only telling you because you asked and while it feels good to tell it, I am not condoning the telling of these stories.
--------------------
The very idea of vaginal child birthwas what kept me from really wanting kids for so long. I WAS TERRIFIED and by terrified I mean white-hot sweats, diarreah cramps and daymares for the entire pregnancy. Second only to that fear was my fear of the epidural needle (see first paragraph for unresolved fears) but I was NOT going without an epidural even if they used a damn baseball bat to administer it so I didn't even indulge in that fear. Not getting the epidural was like the equivalent to the sound and feel of the crackle under your foot when a nasty bug is squashed. It's traumatizing enough to have even seen the bug (see first paragraph for unresolved fears) but add to that the sound effects and the feeling through your shoe of squashing it? No thank you, if was was gonna blow my vagina out, I did not want to feel/see/hear a thing about it!
So, I kept my focus on the birthing fear alone. Let me say, I am no wuss, I have had plenty of surgery (as an adult I have had my tonsils out, wisdom teeth pulled, two cystectomys, and a full-scale breast reduction) and I am told I am tough as nails but this birth thing - umm no, I could not rationalize.
The majority of pregnancy was bearable with minor annoyances such as endless nausea that flipped a switch one day and became endless heartburn, the neverending urge to pee (even as you leave the bathroom), and the unsolicited advice that people love to give. For the last 3 months, resting was not restful. I found that putting my feet up and laying down made me feel stiff and achy. I was better off if I kept moving.
Contractions were not at all what they scare you with - they were tough but they count you through them, you can watch them peak and receed and it feels pretty normal. I had no idea that I was even having real labor contractions but I was literally off the charts when the hooked me up to the monitor. It felt like having to pee and poo and sneeze and yawn all at once but while you had the wind knocked out of you - annoying yes, horrid and awful - not really!
I knew C Section was an option only if medically necessary. I'm told repeatedly that this is still the medical guideline despite all the celebrities and the "schedule your own C Section" news you hear - the ONLY time doctors are supposed to allow it to be scheduled is if they know for SURE you're going by C Section (such as when previous births have been C Sections).
I was ALL ABOUT going C Section, I really didn't want to blow out my girly parts for the rest of my sex life let alone allow my poor husband to watch that shit! My rule for him was that he stay absolutely above my elbows at all times! I literally cried (albiet quietly) in the birthing classes when they showed videos of it. Plus, C Section seemed like a great option because I felt comfortable knowing exactly how my body heals from that type of surgery versus the lower blowout! I mean, I am the sort of girl who enjoys regular pees and poos and what would that do to a person even if only temporary? EEWW! Have you ever avoided peeing and pooing all day? How about 2 or more weeks? One girlfriend mentioned that her blownout lower region had it's own throbbing heartbeat after just 5 minutes of standing upright and this was up to two weeks after birth!
Apparently I was not alone in this paralyzing fear. I have heard many times that at some point during your late pregnancy your brain starts compensating for that ultimate fear with an even greater curiousity. Hmm.... Ah, ha! Just as I suspected, that is bullshit to keep you hanging in there until it's too late. Well, Ok, I do have one girlfriend (the same one who later felt the throbbing heartbeat down there) who had an amazing curiousity about what the head would feel like in the birth canal. She is a fucking freak! I never really got there but, I also never screamed and yelled or said shit like "get this thing out of me" or looked at my husband and said "you did this to me, you bastard!" like you see in the movies. I was quoted as saying "WHO DOES THIS?!?" (meaning have babies) but this was when they were breaking my water which was the absolute worst part for me. I wasn't supposed to even feel that but I had extreme tenderness around my uterus. I didn't actually feel them break my water (there are no nerve endings where they break it), but getting the knitting needle hook in the right position for me was the painful part. I was in pretty bad pain even when they were checking to see how dilated I was which I am told is HIGHLY unusual. They said my uterus was extremely irritated - I have theories about why that I can save for some other time, some other blog. This uterus tenderness was the absolue worst part of the entire pregnancy, labor, and delivery. Even with that, only hours later, I was fully able to say YES - unequivocally - I will face it again.
Gratefully, I did have a C-section but only because I was past my due date, the baby would not drop despite the inducement - his heart rate kept dropping along with my blood pressure so they decided just to do it. About an hour before they rushed me back for the C Section, they gave me the epidural which was so much hype, it was WAY easy and WAY beyond worth it.
So I end the story here, telling you I had a healthy, beautiful boy who I would DIE for 100 times over so yes, I would blow out my poor vagina without a second thought and I didn't really know that for sure until I saw him. The more I get to know him, the smaller that price gets.
Oh and DO NOT FIND OUT THE SEX! THAT IS MY only ADVICE!
A friend recently asked how terrifying childbirth really was. In a previous blog (which I wrote AFTER having my son) I listed "childbirth" as one of the three unresolved fears that I live with to this day (the other two are needles and bugs). Naturally, my answer to her question cannot be simple but please note that I wouldn't tell the story unless she asked.
Also, in preface to this blog, I heard a phrase the other day and my blog is exactly why this phrase was coined. You're supposed to use this phrase when you want to hurry someone to the point of any kind of story (not just childbirth stories). The phrase is, "Enough about the delivery - tell us about the baby!" It's so true that new mothers want to talk about the delivery more than the baby. I guess that is because for 10 + months all we heard was everyone else's damned UNSOLICITED advice and labor stories which honestly are boring as hell to everyone but the person telling it.
We all vow never to be that girl, telling her 14 hour delivery story to everyone who will listen the moment they spot a waddling, huffing, puffing pregnant girl! I also vowed never to look at pregnant women with that irritating "oh-you-poor-thing-I've-been-there-and-I-understand" smile, I hated that as much as I hated people telling me to "get your rest now, haha!" AS IF I DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW!!! But I guess maybe they didn't know during their first pregnancy so they feel like you don't either. We don't all go into this with our fairy tale helmets on...
There are many irritating things about pregnancy, and so many scary things, and so many wonderful things. The bottom line is that everyone has their own experience, no matter what 9 out of 10 other women experienced. You can get worked up or you can just deal... The best advice was always from other recently new moms and it came in the form of ITEMS they found helpful, not ways they handled things, or books they read, or how they felt, or how everloving helpful their fucking mothers were. The BOPPY was a nice piece of advice, the BODY PILLOW was a good thing to tell me about but hey you can keep the rest of it to yourself. Don't even get me started on the speeches we endure from veteran miscarriage sufferers...that is really a new blog for another time.
Anyway - here is my story, but it is not intended to scare or comfort you either way. You will do it your own way, in your own time. I am only telling you because you asked and while it feels good to tell it, I am not condoning the telling of these stories.
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The very idea of vaginal child birthwas what kept me from really wanting kids for so long. I WAS TERRIFIED and by terrified I mean white-hot sweats, diarreah cramps and daymares for the entire pregnancy. Second only to that fear was my fear of the epidural needle (see first paragraph for unresolved fears) but I was NOT going without an epidural even if they used a damn baseball bat to administer it so I didn't even indulge in that fear. Not getting the epidural was like the equivalent to the sound and feel of the crackle under your foot when a nasty bug is squashed. It's traumatizing enough to have even seen the bug (see first paragraph for unresolved fears) but add to that the sound effects and the feeling through your shoe of squashing it? No thank you, if was was gonna blow my vagina out, I did not want to feel/see/hear a thing about it!
So, I kept my focus on the birthing fear alone. Let me say, I am no wuss, I have had plenty of surgery (as an adult I have had my tonsils out, wisdom teeth pulled, two cystectomys, and a full-scale breast reduction) and I am told I am tough as nails but this birth thing - umm no, I could not rationalize.
The majority of pregnancy was bearable with minor annoyances such as endless nausea that flipped a switch one day and became endless heartburn, the neverending urge to pee (even as you leave the bathroom), and the unsolicited advice that people love to give. For the last 3 months, resting was not restful. I found that putting my feet up and laying down made me feel stiff and achy. I was better off if I kept moving.
Contractions were not at all what they scare you with - they were tough but they count you through them, you can watch them peak and receed and it feels pretty normal. I had no idea that I was even having real labor contractions but I was literally off the charts when the hooked me up to the monitor. It felt like having to pee and poo and sneeze and yawn all at once but while you had the wind knocked out of you - annoying yes, horrid and awful - not really!
I knew C Section was an option only if medically necessary. I'm told repeatedly that this is still the medical guideline despite all the celebrities and the "schedule your own C Section" news you hear - the ONLY time doctors are supposed to allow it to be scheduled is if they know for SURE you're going by C Section (such as when previous births have been C Sections).
I was ALL ABOUT going C Section, I really didn't want to blow out my girly parts for the rest of my sex life let alone allow my poor husband to watch that shit! My rule for him was that he stay absolutely above my elbows at all times! I literally cried (albiet quietly) in the birthing classes when they showed videos of it. Plus, C Section seemed like a great option because I felt comfortable knowing exactly how my body heals from that type of surgery versus the lower blowout! I mean, I am the sort of girl who enjoys regular pees and poos and what would that do to a person even if only temporary? EEWW! Have you ever avoided peeing and pooing all day? How about 2 or more weeks? One girlfriend mentioned that her blownout lower region had it's own throbbing heartbeat after just 5 minutes of standing upright and this was up to two weeks after birth!
Apparently I was not alone in this paralyzing fear. I have heard many times that at some point during your late pregnancy your brain starts compensating for that ultimate fear with an even greater curiousity. Hmm.... Ah, ha! Just as I suspected, that is bullshit to keep you hanging in there until it's too late. Well, Ok, I do have one girlfriend (the same one who later felt the throbbing heartbeat down there) who had an amazing curiousity about what the head would feel like in the birth canal. She is a fucking freak! I never really got there but, I also never screamed and yelled or said shit like "get this thing out of me" or looked at my husband and said "you did this to me, you bastard!" like you see in the movies. I was quoted as saying "WHO DOES THIS?!?" (meaning have babies) but this was when they were breaking my water which was the absolute worst part for me. I wasn't supposed to even feel that but I had extreme tenderness around my uterus. I didn't actually feel them break my water (there are no nerve endings where they break it), but getting the knitting needle hook in the right position for me was the painful part. I was in pretty bad pain even when they were checking to see how dilated I was which I am told is HIGHLY unusual. They said my uterus was extremely irritated - I have theories about why that I can save for some other time, some other blog. This uterus tenderness was the absolue worst part of the entire pregnancy, labor, and delivery. Even with that, only hours later, I was fully able to say YES - unequivocally - I will face it again.
Gratefully, I did have a C-section but only because I was past my due date, the baby would not drop despite the inducement - his heart rate kept dropping along with my blood pressure so they decided just to do it. About an hour before they rushed me back for the C Section, they gave me the epidural which was so much hype, it was WAY easy and WAY beyond worth it.
So I end the story here, telling you I had a healthy, beautiful boy who I would DIE for 100 times over so yes, I would blow out my poor vagina without a second thought and I didn't really know that for sure until I saw him. The more I get to know him, the smaller that price gets.
Oh and DO NOT FIND OUT THE SEX! THAT IS MY only ADVICE!
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