The Big Wup

I don’t know about you but all this chatter about “quiet birth” and the impending arrival of the golden babies is kinda stale. But the thing that really baffles me is this whole notion of quiet birth. Apparently the fascination with it means that people really do believe what they see in movies and on TV: that women in labor yell, scream and curse with every contraction. As a veteran, I can say with confidence that some not all women yell, scream and curse. And usually this occurs when the baby is crowning. Trust me, if you had to push something the size of a large navel orange through your hoo-haa without an epidural, you’d scream too.

I was quiet because the pain was suffocating. I couldn’t muster the energy to let out a lusty “f%$!-s@#*-b&%*!-motherf%$!er” if I had wanted to. Every contraction sucked me under to bat me around until it spat me back out for an all-too short reprieve before doing it again.

So get over it people. Katie and Angelina will be fine without you looking over the curtain.