True Meaning of Birthdays


There has been a lot of birthday talk in my house the past month. 2 kids birthdays, my mother-in-law’s and myself. It got me thinking a lot about the actual birth, since that is what we are truly celebrating. The day a women pushed a child through the birth canal and those little baby eyes met the world.

I never knew much about the actual birth experience until I became pregnant. I did a shit load of research, which all pregnant women do….but nothing prepares you for the actual moment.

I had all my children naturally. The first happened so fast, I did not have time for drugs. I got to the hospital and she was coming. My second, which I was told for 9 months would come even faster, decided to take his sweet ass time. I kept thinking it would be any minute and after 14 hours of intense labor, I was ready for drugs, but it was too late. We had passed that epidural stage a few centimeters ago and I was screwed. By my third, I just felt like, “well you did it twice, suck it up and do it again.” And I did. It was not easy by any means and I can still feel the pain, but he was my easiest labor.

So again, I was prepared for all this “birth” stuff: water breaking, contractions, the ring of fire, pooping on the table (which I still don’t know if that happened) all of these birth stories. But it is what happens after that is all so fucking intense.

You just worked your ass off to get this thing out of you and suddenly it is here. Laying on your chest. Everyone is staring at you and this baby. You are so vulnerable and open (in every imaginable area) to mid wives and doctors and nurses all while you are meeting your baby for the first time. They are still poking and prodding and pulling things out of you (well the placenta….yuck) and you are just holding this new human. This new human that is yours. A human you created and then protected in your body for 9 months. And now it is here and exposed to this amazingly awesome and tremendously terrible world.

Then the instructions start. How to breastfeed, which seems so much easier when you are just reading about it. All the tests and pricks to this new little being. Then the bath, for them and you! I was lucky with all three. I felt fine within 15 minutes of birth and could walk myself to the shower, the nurses helped clean me, but I was able to rinse myself asap. But after the rinse, the putting a huge airplane like ice pack and a pair of mesh underwear on, you are set up in a room with your partner (hopefully) and your new babe.

That baby, all wrapped up and swaddled like a Moe’s burrito. Just starting at you, depending on you for every aspect of its life. It is this child’s birth day. Just like that, the pregnancy is over and the rest of its life is staring at you.

You birthed a baby.

You are one of the very lucky women who was able to give s successful birth. Whatever happens to you for the rest of your life, you and this baby have this beautifully special day in common. You both worked really hard to make today happen. So you both should celebrate this day for the rest of your lives.

I may be a grinch about my birthday, but I shouldn’t. My mom does not deserve that. She had to have a c-section to get me out!!!! I should celebrate that shit like a mad woman just for her! I love celebrating my children’s birthdays. Maybe because those specific days are the best days of my life.

It is amazing when the most natural thing can give you chills, change your life and rock your world. It is amazing what our bodies can do. It is amazing what their little bodies can do.

Birth, what a fucking crazy adventure. And what a beautiful day to embrace.



The Shitty Housewife

JanRyanPhotoshoot (14 of 18)

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