It Taint What It Used To Be : Part Deux

Hey. So this is the second part of the labour and delivery blog because some weird and funny stuff happened and seeing how I'm missing that part of the brain that registers embarrassment, I'm going to share these incidents with all of you and the pedo's that accidentally stumble upon this blog.
As I mentioned in part one, labour was roughly 22 hours. Now for someone who thinks a simple fart is funnier than anything in the world, you would think that pooping etc during delivery wouldn't bother me. Wrong. It was oddly my biggest fear. I mean really, I may not be a lady but I"m not an animal and having a cute, bubbly 24 year old nurse have to wipe my bum as I'm crying to get this baby out, is even just a bit much for me. Regardless, they don't embellish or even mention that you're going to crap yourself in What to Expect When Expecting. So I'm here to tell those of you who have yet to give birth; you're going to shit yourself. That's what to expect when expecting.
Anyhow, now that we've gotten that out of the way I'm thinking "well, there's really nothing left to hide. Let's just push this baby out once and for all." Unfortunately it wasn't that simple. Things start getting frantic and there's a bunch of people in my room as Mt.Sinai is a teaching hospital. I would like to think that at least 5 sets of future OBGYN's hands have rooted around inside of me. I like to do what I can for education.
The doctor comes in and it's go time. I had requested Heathcliff Huxtable but he was busy eating a hogy, chips and grape soda because Claire was out of town.
So the doctor says to us, "It's either the forceps or the vacuum". Will answers , "Well what do you think?" doctor responds, "Neither are very pretty."
Great.
So he goes for the forceps. My friend Noelle said it best when she described forceps as silver hockey sticks. They're definitely tong like in nature, but tongs you would be using if you were going to bbq a brontesaurus. Anyhow, in they go, they flip the baby around and out they come. I thought they had pulled the baby out at this point and am asking "What is it? what is it?" The doctor tells me, "I have to go back in." Awesome.
Back come the brontasaurus tongs and after some aggressive pushing and pulling out comes our cute little boy. There are tears and laughter and all that stuff you imagine as they put him on me and then weigh him and get him all wrapped up. Will takes him out to meet my brother Marc, my parents, Tina and Lara and our brother-in-law David. So now I'm still stuck in the stirrups and the doctor proceeds to do some serious sewing. There was as episiotomy involved and if you don't know what it is, you can Google it but I suggest you don't Google any images otherwise your eyes might fall out of your head.
Anyhow, lets assume you know what it is and carry on.
This is when things get pretty funny. The doctor's head is pretty much at eye level with my va-jay jay and ass as he's doing some genital quilting. He's also showing a student what he's doing and explaining the whole process. Again, let's take a minute to thank God for epidural. The next thing you know, a sound escapes; a long, drawn out , high-pitched kind of sound. Imagine slowly letting the air out of a balloon. Yup, that kind of sound. Some call it a toot, others a fluff, I prefer ol' faithful... fart. Without any control of that area, I had just farted in the doctor's face. With the maturity level of an 8 year old boy, I start to laugh my head off and attempt to apologize but the Sorry wasn't really coming through my fit of giggles. The doctor looks up at me and says, "Well , I guess I deserve that." HILARIOUS! Thank god he had a sense of humour although what the hell else are you supposed to do in that situation? Well there you have it. I farted in a doctor's face. I wish I hadn't been so tired at the time because in hindsight I should have said, "In your face!" but that is a regret I guess I have to live with. Stay tuned for the next blog where I reveal more amazing tidbits about my amazing bodily functions, a run in I had with a lactation specialist (a.k.a lactation nazi's) and my affiar with Jon Gosslin.