It Taint What it Used To Be

So it happened. I gave birth. Yup, 8 pounds and 8 ounces of beautiful little baby came out of me. Have I mentioned that I'm just 5 ft 3 inches and pre-pregnancy weight was about 119? What I"m saying here is that is a lot of body to come out of this body. I mean, I've had (over the course of many years) 8.8 pounds up me, but never out. SHAZAM! Just kidding, not that slutty. So anyhow, it was a pretty cool, surreal and hilarious experience so the labour blog is going to have to be broken up into a few segments.
Here's the first part of the story.
We went into Mt.Sinai on Friday, March 19th for a stress test in the evening. When we were there the nurse mentioned they weren't that busy so would we like to have our baby that night. We were scheduled to come in on Monday to get induced but figured "Why not? There's nothing good on T.V tonight anyhow." They break the water (with this weird knitting needle thingy) and labour begins. At this point I had probably told about 5 of the staff that I definitely wanted epidural, I may have even told an orderly and a homeless guy in the hospital for gout. They recommended to try to labour for a bit by walking around, it would help to speed up the process. So contractions hit and I last about an hour and 15 minutes. Lets just take a minute here to discuss contractions and natural childbirth. Contractions feel like the devil is sodomizing you and epidural is like the Angel Gabriel battling the devil for dominance over your uterus. If you take epidural, the Angel Gabriel is victorious in this historical battle of good versus evil. Should you choose to bypass the epidural, the Devil continues his reign of evil supremacy for what could be over 25 hours. So here is my question: Why the eff wouldn't you take the epidural? Seriously. I'm asking any ladies out there who CHOSE not to use the epi, not the ones who had no choice, but the ones who go into labour, purposely wanting to experience the devil's wrath.I'm not judging you, in fact I admire your bravery and threshold for pain; but I honestly wonder why. Is it because you want to feel your baby come into this world as much as you possibly can or is it a personal triumph thing or did you simply not anticipate just how bad the pain would be and by that time it was too late. Please enlighten me because if I could buy epidural as a street drug just to take on a Friday night, I would. It is the best. I think it was what Tina Turner was talking about when she wrote the radio classic, "Simply The Best". I cannot stress enough how important the epidural is in the labour process and I weep inside for the women who went before me when this miracle drug was not available. I think my point is clear and I look forward to hearing the non epidural takers opinions and thoughts.
So now I'm nice and high, a feeling I've missed the past 9 months. Without boring you with all of the details just know that 22 hours later cute little Dexter Jean-Claude Macky was born....but not without some struggle. We took this super boring pre-natal class where they tell you to make a "Labour plan." My plan was to take drugs and push a 7 pound baby out. Not quite. It's like New Years, you can plan the shit out of it and it's still doesn't go the way you want. So stay tuned for the next blog post where we delve into the dark abyss of forceps and the thrilling world of episiotomy. Oh, and just to give you another reason to keep up with the blog, upcoming ones involve embarassing flatulents, ridiculous bowel movements and advice on how to face your nurse after she's had to clean up your poop on the delivery table ....3 times. Things are about to get freaky people.

Overdue

Ok, there are a few things that are ok being overdue. For example, it's ok if a library book is overdue. It's .25 cents a day and it's really not going to break you, unless it's a library book from the University of Western library in which case they bend you over and threaten to not give you your degree but then they do and it's your first "real world lesson" that most people are full of shit. Apologies are also things that can be "overdue". For example, I once put a fake phone number on a parked car I had backed into. Then I saw the woman come to her windshield and call that fake number. That is someone who probably deserves an apology from me, long overdue. Something that should most definitely not be overdue is a baby, more specifically, your first baby. Why? Well basically for a month before you push the aforementioned human out of your vajooj, you think it's going to come, and you play the actual delivery over and over and over and over in your mind. As much as you try not to, it just keeps sneaking back in; slipping, squishing, oozing and grossing its way back in. So then the day comes, and the baby doesn't. Ok, no biggie, maybe tomorrow. Ok, still no biggie, maybe the next day. What didn't come? Ok well nothing you can do about it, maybe the next day. Woops, didn't come that day either. So now you start listening to people's tricks about inducing labour. Eat some spicy food. Sure no problem, the fact that I've been constipated for the last 5 days is probably an indication that spicy food isn't going to feel that good but what the hell, eating is the one thing that a pregnant woman is really good at. So FYI, eating spicy food with 5 days of constipation under your bloated belt is as good of an idea as sleeping with Adam Giambrone. God, that's a night I'll never get back. Take it from me, you don't want to ride that rocket.
Then there's the sex option for inducing labour because every girl wants to get down with the get down when she's a) constipated and b) packing a torpedo that hangs over your bits required for labour inducing sex but you know what, let's do it. Take me upstairs and induce the hell out of me. Remember losing your virginity? More awkward. Anyhow, enough about 9 month pregnant sex, I'm not here to give you AMAZING visuals of me and Will. The point is, we can build an ear in a petri dish but we are still unable to determine the exact date a baby comes into this world. So baby, I love you, but get out. This is housekeeping and you've missed your check out time.

Here's an idea....keep it to yo' self

I'm writing another blog now because the baby hasn't come yet and when it does, I suspect I won't have as much time to write as I would like to, or at least that what everyone tells me. Since I've been with child people have told me a lot of things. Here are some other funny things people have told or asked me as I've become noticeably pregnant.

1) "Are you pregnant?"
2) "I have a feeling you're going to have a vaginal birth" (told to my by the old Second Cup lady)
3) "If you're anything like my wife, you're going to be ripped to shreds" (nice one)
4) "Why would you ever choose to do that to your body?"
5) "Is it yours?" (granted this was by a crazy man on the subway who may or may not have been high on opiates)
6) Me: "I'm pregnant"
Him: "Gross"
Then of course there's those classic people who LOVE to tell you how hard it is to be a new parent.
You tell them you're pregnant and the first thing out of their mouth is: "Say goodbye to sleep" or "Have lots of sex now"
when really I think the word they're looking for is "Congratulations" or maybe "You're a slut".
No one I really liked has ever said that stuff to me, just the annoying people and annoying they are. I'm 31, I'm not the star of an MTV show about being a teen mom so trying to scare me about the realities of newborns is stupid. It's kind of like those preachy ex-smokers. Just because you got through it doesn't mean it's ok to tell people how shitty it is, that just makes you a pain in the ass. Anyhow, my lack of sleep and celebicy is meant to come in 4 days so I better go hump and nap.

It's The Final Countdown do do do do , do do do do do

I am meant to have my first baby in 6 days. Yup, in 6 days I will push, pull, and possibly poop my way into motherhood. Yup, you heard right...poop. This is not something they advertise in such incredible classics as: Look Who's Talking 1 &2, Nine Months or Oscar robbed 1988 Kevin Bacon masterpiece, She's Having a Baby.
Nope, no director chooses to share the realities of what really happens in the birthing room, it doesn't sell tickets. They also fail to show that your baby will most likely come out with a cone head, giant balls and or labia and other such non-cute afflictions, the result of a uterus contracting you out of a birth canal. Thank god this is not a journey we can remember. Could you imagine? Picture it , Sicily 1947...wait sorry, wrong blog, that's my Ode to Patrillo Blog that I haven't quite started.
Ok, picture it, you're 30 and if you don't squeeze yourself out of a Rhino's ass you'll die. That is pretty much the equivalent of what's about to happen to this tiny little baby inside of me. I am simply the vessel; a rhino's ass.
So needless to say, the anticipation is killing me but it's not a bad anticipation. Anyone who has done this knows that it's an exciting and thrilling anticipation but honestly, you would HAVE to be lying if you didn't admit that shitting the bed, contractions, baby through birth canal, placenta action and stiches didn't freak you out just a little bit. Regardless, there's no turning back now, which is part of the calm. It's been happening forever and will continue to happen long after I have children but in the meantime, I am writing this blog over the next twelve months in order to learn how to cook my way through Julia Child's cookbook. Just kidding (I bet that's the most overused blog joke of all time) I will be taking myself and you through the first 12 months of motherhood. So here we go, welcome to "From Titties to Teats: A humourous look at the first year of motherhood", as told by Larissa Ann Primeau.