Gearing Up for Mother's Day: Let's Talk About Vaginal Deliveries

With Mother's Day bearing down (totally corny pun intended) on us and I say "bearing down" because it's just another holiday to stress me out. I would like to go on record and say that I'm not a fan of these types of designated holidays. And "Mother's Day" indicates it is for mothers, of which I am one. But so is my mom and my mother in law, AND my step mother in law. That means I have to figure out something to make their day special too. Figuring out = stress me out. Like the one time? I sent my MIL a lovely bouquet of roses through 1-800-FLOWERS.com? And because she lives in an area that is difficult to deliver too, they just, um, didn't? Nor did they have the decency to alert me. Imagine my embarrassment when I called her that day only to have her wonder what were these so-called-flowers that I supposedly sent her. Which, of course, then makes me look like a first class schmuck when I say "I sent you flowers you didn't get them? I promise I did!". 1-800-FLOWERS.com and I had words. Some of them four letter. I let them know in no uncertain terms that it took years to cultivate my relationship with her and they had managed to reduce it to a shell of its former self because it must somehow have pained them too much to fire off an email or a phone call to say "yeah, sorry, we don't go there. Choose alternate gift". Anyway...

I'm a mom too. Times three. How they came into the world a.k.a. "Just the Facts":

Boy-Child#1 ~ Born 8 days past his due date. I gained 70 pounds too much Taco Bell and pie. My cervix, let me show it to you: Routine pelvic exam indicates that I'm walking around my daily life at 4cm dilated but she [doctor] could stretch it to 5cm, which she did along with separating the membranes a fun party game that involves her arm up my hoo-ha to her elbow and some vigorous gentle turning of her wrist. This procedure produces heavy cramping. Sent to hospital toot sweet. Start induction. Six hours later? Cervical status: still 5cm dilated. Screw that. Requests epidural. Grateful for the relief it provides but totally wigged out by the process in which it was received. Vows to never again let a needle enter spine so long as I can help it, amen. Tenth hour, pushing commences. Two hours and an episiotomy (spell check is not a fan of "episiotomy", neither am I spell check) later, first born son emerges via vacuum extraction. Weighing in at 9lbs 7oz and 23 inches long. Size of a three month old. I blame the Taco Bell and pie. Have to make a pit stop on way home from hospital to purchase larger diapers.

Boy-Child#2 ~ Born one week early. Due date was too close to Christmas day. Begged Requested to induce labor as far away from that date as possible because how much does it suck to have your birthday on Christmas. Labor progressed quickly and uneventfully. And, more importantly, relatively painless. At the sixth hour of labor I entered the transition phase, and when I say transition, I mean I was certain that I was holding a baby between my knees. Oh the sensations you feel when you forgo the epidural! Instructed not to push. Doctor on her way. Told to blow. Do what I'm told Wheeewww...wheewww...whooooo...whhhoooo... and then SCREW THOSE BITCHES! Wheewww...wheewww...whoooooo...whhhoooo..hmmmmm...hmmmm...MMMMM. "You're pushing!" MMMMNO I'M NOTMMM! "Yes you are!" I CAN'T HELP IT! HMMMMM...HMMMMMM... what were they gonna do? Stop me? Doctor arrives. Ten minutes and one episiotomy later, second born son shoots out weighing in at 7bls 13oz and 19 inches long. Small fry in relation to big brother. Had jaundice. They threatened me with putting him under the billy-lights. He never actually needed it. I dub them overly cautious. My weight gain the second time around? Thirty eight pounds. Go me!

Girl-Child ~ Born eight days early because I could. Five hours and a few I Love Lucy episodes later, I did some more of that Whheewww...whooooo....whooooooo...hmmmmm... MMMMMMMM...not pushing that I did before. Doctor arrives, twenty minutes and NO episiotomy later, our daughter was born weighing in at 7lbs 15oz and 20 inches long. After the cord was cut from around her neck and everyone let go of that breath they'd been holding. My weight gain: fifty pounds, the hell?

It's been nearly five years since I last gave birth and you'll be happy to learn that my vagina has long since made a recovery. But I still deserve a day at the spa because I'm a mom and I can. I make my own appointments. I just don't go ON Mother's Day because who wants to wedge themselves into a crowded sauna full of naked women? Oh.