so. after watching the office last week and with my small spawn having a birthday the other day, i got to thinking about different funny/horrifying birth stories. if you have kids, i'm sure some of your own glorious memories will be stirred. if you don't have kids but want them some day, you may want to wait a few years before reading this post. if you don't have kids and don't want them any time soon, this should serve as pretty much the best birth control available. you're welcome. and because over-sharing is what i do...these are for you:
spawn one: so, i was 17 when my first spawn decided to make an appearance. i had no idea what child birth was supposed to be like. i had no idea what labor would entail. and i will tell you straight up: IT SUCKED. seriously. and not just in an...oh...this hurts kind of way. i mean it SUCKED as in embarrassing/terrifying/scarred for life. well, obviously not for life since i popped out another spawn...but scarring still the same.
so they had to induce my first spawn. turned out the kid had decided to it wasn't so bad having his own private swimming pool and extended his cooking time by two weeks. during july. the hottest part of the year. nice. thanks. still hold that against him. so, as much as they told me. being induced involves shoving seaweed where shouldn't be and waiting for it to so something (which it never did). i checked into the hospital for said seaweed spa treatment at 7 pm, not being allowed to eat dinner before going. so i waited all night...nothing happened. it was fab. nothing like sitting in a hospital bed all night waiting for nothing. so morning comes and i'm STARVING. i'm tired. i'm grumpy. i'm prego. you cant starve a prego for 18 hours. its just mean. i BEG to be allowed breakfast. turns out if you ever need to go into labor just eat some hospital eggs and sausage and a powdered donut. MAGIC. well. in a way. turns out the breakfast didn't like me much and requested to return from whence it came. as i stood up to go return the pity breakfast i felt a kick...or i thought it was a kick...either way it dropped me to my knees. in a puddle. and i crawled from there to the bathroom. that's how my mom found me when she came back to the room. like a deranged slug dragging a slime trail to the bathroom where i was in the process of being sick AND having a contraction AND freaking out about my water breaking all at the same time. great start. it went downhill from there...
same spawn: three hours later: STILL trying to get the dang kid out. since it's taking a while, they (the TEAM of people in the room) decided to try suction. if you're unfamiliar with this...well, it is what it is. SUCKING the kid out. with a vacuum. sounds fun, huh? well, like i said, i was 17. NONE of this made sense to me. i didn't have my contacts in or my glasses on, so i had NO CLUE what the fuck was going on. all i knew was one of the nurses has a hoover in my hoo-ha. i had read up a bit on labor before hand and unfortunately had even made it through the chapters on suction...and the risks: like sucking the brain through the skull. lovely thought (i'm sure that hasn't happened within the last 1000 years...but they put it in the damn book). so there i am...hoovered up...and all of a sudden: SLLLLLUUUURRRRRPPPP _POP_ (yes, it was that disgusting). OH.MY.FUCKING.GOD. what the fuck just happened? (or at the time, since i was young and doe eyed them...gee wally, did something go wrong?) i sat up and SCREAMED at the nurse: "DID YOU JUST RIP THE HEAD OFF MY BABY?!?!?!" turns out not so much...but they tried it again two more times with the same results. each time i freaked the fuck out. i was SURE it was going to suck his brain out or make him a cone head or something. turned out the spawn had a bunch of hair and they couldn't get a good seal. isn't childbirth glamorous? well. another hour, 2 doctors, 4 nurses, 2 labor coaches, 13 stitches and...well...a fishing expedition later i had my very own 9 pound 11 ounce spawn, brain intact, no banana head. no wonder he was stuck. gave birth to a dang toddler.
spawn #2: no horrible stories with this one...he was stubborn enough to make them go in after him and fish him out. and i DID NOT look over the curtain. so you're spared a traumatic delivery story there. all i know is they gave me a shot, pushed on my stomach once and there was a clean, screaming, healthy baby wrapped in a towel in the bassinet. TOTALLY the way to go. 96 hours of pain, one shot, 8 staples, and DONE. BUT. you can't be completely spared, this is a horror story of a different kind. rewind to before the fishing expedition: i was sitting in the delivery room waiting in a 48 hours showdown with spawn number 2. during this time, several people stopped by to visit- my grandmother being one of them. turns out she wanted to get me something for the new baby and asked if i had any nursing bras. okay. that right there should be enough. my grandmother asking about my bras. oy. SHOULD be enough. but it wasn't. oh hell no. that was just the beginning. the tip of the iceberg that sank the titanic. she had decided that i needed a GOOD nursing bra and she was going to get one for me. oy. as it goes with bra shopping, she needed to know what size i was. well, here's the thing about pregnancy: it makes your boobs grow. and if you plan on nursing, add another cup size or two for when your milk comes in. in short: i wasn't sure what size i would need. i had a rough guess of what i was up to, but wasn't 100% sure. so i guessed. umm....i'll take a c cup for $200 alex.. oh the horror...dear god the horror. my grandmother looked at me. then looked at herself. then looked back at me. it took a moment for this to sink in. and i was wondering what the hell...and the bomb dropped: "honey...you have to be bigger than that. i'm a d cup and you're much bigger than me."
there are things i've learned over the years that i could have gone the rest of my life never knowing. little facts and tidbits that really do not need to be taking up valuable real estate. finding out/realizing that my darling grandmother was in fact a FULL d cup is one of them. my whole life shifted in that moment. my grandmother went from being this shapeless person who looked, in my mind, like a raggedy ann doll under all her sweaters and dresses to suddenly being a PERSON. WITH PARTS. LARGE PARTS. and she was sizing up mine. in comparison to hers. I HAD A BOOB-OFF WITH MY GRANDMOTHER. oh god. at least i won i guess. after that, the c section was nothing. i think i was still so in shock they didn't even have to drug me (that's a lie. they drugged me. A LOT.)
and finally: me: yes, that's right. wonderful stories about my own infancy have been passed on over the years. all i can say is: my poor mother. turns out *shock* i wasnt the easiest of babies. i mean the basics were easy: i was fat. in baby speak that generally means good natured and healthy. from what i've heard i wasn't too demanding or colicy or horrible. but i did get sick. not really sick, but i had a rash. and it led to a great story. which is good enough for me. so. like most babies, i was born. and soon after birth i was hungry (i know...go figure with me, right?). my mother being a good and wholesome mother decided to nurse me. best start to life. turns out i didn't do so well with it. i guess at a few days old i developed thrush which is basically a yeast infection in the mouth. important note: this can be a common infection in infants who are bottle fed. remember that. so. my mother goes to the pharmacy to see if there's anything she can do to help this infection go away. she chats with the pharmacist a bit, explains what's wrong with me (well, at that particular time anyway...would be a whole saga now), and asks for any advice. the pharmacist, more than willing to help, did what he could. he told her: "the best way to help clear up thrush is to boil the nipples."
***S.I.L.E.N.C.E.***
as the story goes, it took a few moments for the pharmacist to notice the COMPLETE SILENCE in response to his suggestion. one can only guess the look of sheer horror he saw on my mother's face when he finally looked up. typical infection in BOTTLE FEEDING. typical solution for bottle feeding. NOT a typical infection in breast feeding. HORRIFYING solution for breast feeding. my mom, 27 YEARS LATER still had a horrified look on her face when she told me the story. she said she was standing there in those few moments of silence trying desperately to figure out what and why and how before the pharmacist caught on. "you are bottle feeding, right?" what's that saying about assuming? something about making a complete and total ass out of you? she said she barely whispered no and then the pharmacist fully realized what he'd just suggested. can you imagine? boil the nipples. now i know some people are into some pretty extreme things now days...piercings and what not. but this is one particular trend i have yet to hear about. ow. damn.
so. there you have it. a bit of trauma, just for you,. if you weren't already, my darling few readers, you should be completely good to go now on birth control for...well...forever. you're welcome.
spawn one: so, i was 17 when my first spawn decided to make an appearance. i had no idea what child birth was supposed to be like. i had no idea what labor would entail. and i will tell you straight up: IT SUCKED. seriously. and not just in an...oh...this hurts kind of way. i mean it SUCKED as in embarrassing/terrifying/scarred for life. well, obviously not for life since i popped out another spawn...but scarring still the same.
so they had to induce my first spawn. turned out the kid had decided to it wasn't so bad having his own private swimming pool and extended his cooking time by two weeks. during july. the hottest part of the year. nice. thanks. still hold that against him. so, as much as they told me. being induced involves shoving seaweed where shouldn't be and waiting for it to so something (which it never did). i checked into the hospital for said seaweed spa treatment at 7 pm, not being allowed to eat dinner before going. so i waited all night...nothing happened. it was fab. nothing like sitting in a hospital bed all night waiting for nothing. so morning comes and i'm STARVING. i'm tired. i'm grumpy. i'm prego. you cant starve a prego for 18 hours. its just mean. i BEG to be allowed breakfast. turns out if you ever need to go into labor just eat some hospital eggs and sausage and a powdered donut. MAGIC. well. in a way. turns out the breakfast didn't like me much and requested to return from whence it came. as i stood up to go return the pity breakfast i felt a kick...or i thought it was a kick...either way it dropped me to my knees. in a puddle. and i crawled from there to the bathroom. that's how my mom found me when she came back to the room. like a deranged slug dragging a slime trail to the bathroom where i was in the process of being sick AND having a contraction AND freaking out about my water breaking all at the same time. great start. it went downhill from there...
same spawn: three hours later: STILL trying to get the dang kid out. since it's taking a while, they (the TEAM of people in the room) decided to try suction. if you're unfamiliar with this...well, it is what it is. SUCKING the kid out. with a vacuum. sounds fun, huh? well, like i said, i was 17. NONE of this made sense to me. i didn't have my contacts in or my glasses on, so i had NO CLUE what the fuck was going on. all i knew was one of the nurses has a hoover in my hoo-ha. i had read up a bit on labor before hand and unfortunately had even made it through the chapters on suction...and the risks: like sucking the brain through the skull. lovely thought (i'm sure that hasn't happened within the last 1000 years...but they put it in the damn book). so there i am...hoovered up...and all of a sudden: SLLLLLUUUURRRRRPPPP _POP_ (yes, it was that disgusting). OH.MY.FUCKING.GOD. what the fuck just happened? (or at the time, since i was young and doe eyed them...gee wally, did something go wrong?) i sat up and SCREAMED at the nurse: "DID YOU JUST RIP THE HEAD OFF MY BABY?!?!?!" turns out not so much...but they tried it again two more times with the same results. each time i freaked the fuck out. i was SURE it was going to suck his brain out or make him a cone head or something. turned out the spawn had a bunch of hair and they couldn't get a good seal. isn't childbirth glamorous? well. another hour, 2 doctors, 4 nurses, 2 labor coaches, 13 stitches and...well...a fishing expedition later i had my very own 9 pound 11 ounce spawn, brain intact, no banana head. no wonder he was stuck. gave birth to a dang toddler.
spawn #2: no horrible stories with this one...he was stubborn enough to make them go in after him and fish him out. and i DID NOT look over the curtain. so you're spared a traumatic delivery story there. all i know is they gave me a shot, pushed on my stomach once and there was a clean, screaming, healthy baby wrapped in a towel in the bassinet. TOTALLY the way to go. 96 hours of pain, one shot, 8 staples, and DONE. BUT. you can't be completely spared, this is a horror story of a different kind. rewind to before the fishing expedition: i was sitting in the delivery room waiting in a 48 hours showdown with spawn number 2. during this time, several people stopped by to visit- my grandmother being one of them. turns out she wanted to get me something for the new baby and asked if i had any nursing bras. okay. that right there should be enough. my grandmother asking about my bras. oy. SHOULD be enough. but it wasn't. oh hell no. that was just the beginning. the tip of the iceberg that sank the titanic. she had decided that i needed a GOOD nursing bra and she was going to get one for me. oy. as it goes with bra shopping, she needed to know what size i was. well, here's the thing about pregnancy: it makes your boobs grow. and if you plan on nursing, add another cup size or two for when your milk comes in. in short: i wasn't sure what size i would need. i had a rough guess of what i was up to, but wasn't 100% sure. so i guessed. umm....i'll take a c cup for $200 alex.. oh the horror...dear god the horror. my grandmother looked at me. then looked at herself. then looked back at me. it took a moment for this to sink in. and i was wondering what the hell...and the bomb dropped: "honey...you have to be bigger than that. i'm a d cup and you're much bigger than me."
there are things i've learned over the years that i could have gone the rest of my life never knowing. little facts and tidbits that really do not need to be taking up valuable real estate. finding out/realizing that my darling grandmother was in fact a FULL d cup is one of them. my whole life shifted in that moment. my grandmother went from being this shapeless person who looked, in my mind, like a raggedy ann doll under all her sweaters and dresses to suddenly being a PERSON. WITH PARTS. LARGE PARTS. and she was sizing up mine. in comparison to hers. I HAD A BOOB-OFF WITH MY GRANDMOTHER. oh god. at least i won i guess. after that, the c section was nothing. i think i was still so in shock they didn't even have to drug me (that's a lie. they drugged me. A LOT.)
and finally: me: yes, that's right. wonderful stories about my own infancy have been passed on over the years. all i can say is: my poor mother. turns out *shock* i wasnt the easiest of babies. i mean the basics were easy: i was fat. in baby speak that generally means good natured and healthy. from what i've heard i wasn't too demanding or colicy or horrible. but i did get sick. not really sick, but i had a rash. and it led to a great story. which is good enough for me. so. like most babies, i was born. and soon after birth i was hungry (i know...go figure with me, right?). my mother being a good and wholesome mother decided to nurse me. best start to life. turns out i didn't do so well with it. i guess at a few days old i developed thrush which is basically a yeast infection in the mouth. important note: this can be a common infection in infants who are bottle fed. remember that. so. my mother goes to the pharmacy to see if there's anything she can do to help this infection go away. she chats with the pharmacist a bit, explains what's wrong with me (well, at that particular time anyway...would be a whole saga now), and asks for any advice. the pharmacist, more than willing to help, did what he could. he told her: "the best way to help clear up thrush is to boil the nipples."
***S.I.L.E.N.C.E.***
as the story goes, it took a few moments for the pharmacist to notice the COMPLETE SILENCE in response to his suggestion. one can only guess the look of sheer horror he saw on my mother's face when he finally looked up. typical infection in BOTTLE FEEDING. typical solution for bottle feeding. NOT a typical infection in breast feeding. HORRIFYING solution for breast feeding. my mom, 27 YEARS LATER still had a horrified look on her face when she told me the story. she said she was standing there in those few moments of silence trying desperately to figure out what and why and how before the pharmacist caught on. "you are bottle feeding, right?" what's that saying about assuming? something about making a complete and total ass out of you? she said she barely whispered no and then the pharmacist fully realized what he'd just suggested. can you imagine? boil the nipples. now i know some people are into some pretty extreme things now days...piercings and what not. but this is one particular trend i have yet to hear about. ow. damn.
so. there you have it. a bit of trauma, just for you,. if you weren't already, my darling few readers, you should be completely good to go now on birth control for...well...forever. you're welcome.
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