birth stories

I learned this afternoon that my teacher was born in the toilet. Early one morning, about three weeks before her due date, her mother woke up with a back ache and asked her husband for a massage. He obliged, she fell asleep, then a couple of hours later she woke up with the same back pain and the sudden urge to use the bathroom. So she ran to the bathroom, used it, and discovered upon reaching down to, you know, wipe up, that the baby's head was starting to come out. She screamed for her husband, felt one (that's right - one, single, uno, ein) pain, pushed, and M was born. Her father caught her before she actually fell into the toilet bowl.

I have a friend who recently gave birth to her third son. I don't know all the details, but it sounds like they barely made it to the hospital on time even after screaming through rural Kansas roads at 90mph in the middle of the night. This woman has spent less than half the time I have in labor, and she has three children. I just have one.

If only it were that easy.

I have just over 4 weeks to go before my official due date, and lately I've been thinking a lot about what to expect, how it might go. We have the same doctor, the same doula and will be at the same hospital. Hopefully, it won't take 30 hours this time around, but you never really know what's going to happen.
All I know is that I'm ready. NOW.

I remember before Daniel was born I wasn't bombarded with unwelcome advice so much as unwelcome birth stories. Not that I don't enjoy a good birth story, especially now that I've been through the experience myself. And I didn't mind the interesting ones (see above). But I really minded the ones about someone going overdue because I thought if I had to wait even until my due date I was going to kill myself. Good thing Daniel was born on time, or I might have died of desperation.

Comments

jen said…
best birth story I ever heard: my grandmother's retelling of my mother's birth. 1960, Mom was the last of 4. Nana woke up, couldn't come to the phone when the OB told Grandpa Joe to have her talk to him, OB comes & brings Nana to the hospital. Basically, the birth was so fast that the dr. yelled at the nurse for shaving my grandmother "You'll be shaving the baby's head soon! Stop it!" The anesthesiologist (remember, they were completely knocked under in those days) was a drunk who fell asleep on the job, so Nana didn't get meds like she'd had in her previous 3. "The only part that hurts is when they come out," she told me. She lied.

From one preggo to another: I hope this one goes much faster than the last. My first was a 24.5-hour marathon, I'm hoping for a good 12-hour sprint this spring. Bon voyage, either way.
Tooz said…
My daddy was born at home, as was common in 1909. He was the fourth child, so my grandma had done this before. However, the two maiden aunts who were staying with her to help with the other children had NOT been around when the others had been born and had never participated in a birth. Of course there was no phone at their house in rural Shelby County at that time, and they lived a distance from town. Daddy beat the doctor to the house. The doctor scolded my grandmother, "Miss Mary, don't you EVER do that again." And the aunties were of course, traumatized. Neither one ever married.
Claire said…
Thanks to reading this blog late last night, I had a dream (or rather, a nightmare) of a very bizarre birth story.

Claire
Pamela said…
What a great story! I will never look at M the same again! :-)

(ps... just posted the songs finally...)

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