Humor Non-Fiction posted March 6, 2013

This work has reached the exceptional level
Frank thoughts about having a baby. Read author notes first.

Having A Baby - Yippie-yi-ki-yay!

by wordsfromsue

The Joys Of Birth Contest Winner 
The joys of birth, what a funny way to phrase an event. I discovered all sorts of things about myself: embarrassment wouldn't kill me, my private parts weren't so private, and all women weren't meant to be human milking machines. I must state that I had a pregnancy most women would have paid for: not a single ounce of morning sickness, my only breathless moment was just weeks before giving birth, running from the cinema after a Mel Gibson film (this was back in the nineties when it was still okay to drool over Mel) to catch a bus. I'm sure I presented quite a sight with my round belly jiggling about, still giddy from hanging out with Mel, remembering with a thud as my butt hit the bus seat that I was a very pregnant woman and not a slim girl at the moment.

On to that magical night. Do you believe in omens? I'm not sure I do, but sometimes the urge is irresistable. My marriage almost ended on our wedding day, the movie playing on the hotel television was Jack Nicholson's 'The Shining' as I watched my Prince Charming storm out the door. The movie playing on my bedroom television that night of labor was 'The Shining'. I remember thinking, "Oh geez, last time I watched this... " Around nine o'clock that evening, four days overdue and a bit anxious, my stomach started acting as if I'd eaten a bad load of something: twisting and knotting. Great, what had I eaten? I thought I'd go to bed and hopefully feel better in the morning. by the way, WHEN was this baby ever going to show?

About two o'clock in the morning, I woke up feeling like kangaroos were kickboxing in my stomach. Phoning the nurse, she reassured me I was having contractions and should time them. Okay. Two hours later, I telephoned her again. Apparently, the magic moment was quickly approaching. I remember when a contraction would hit, clutching the dining room table and calling out "WHOOOOOOOOO" in a loud, clear voice. The humming sound calmed my mind and gave me something to focus on beside the discomfort.

I woke my husband to tell him it was time and he asked, "Can't it wait until morning?"

"Um, I think not. Nurse was pretty definite about coming now."

"Well, I need a shower."

"YOU need a shower? You're not about to pop a human out. No one's checking your nether regions for cleanliness, bub. WHOOOOOOOOOOO."

"Do you need to do that? You sound like an owl."

"Only if you don't want me to strangle your sorry rear end while you take your shower. HURRY UP!"

And so the joyful events unfolded. Arriving at the hospital, parking in the deserted lot and enjoying the quiet of the night while stopping to insist, "WHOOOOOOOOO." Entering the emergency room entrance, I calmly told them why I was there and said, "I want my epidural. I need to pee." Nurse showed me to the restroom. My undies were wet, I didn't remember peeing. Great, now I'm messing myself? Can this night get any better? Nurse smiled and said my water had broken. Okay, whatever, where was my epidural? I got the red carpet treatment after that. Whisked into a birthing room and prepped to deliver a human, I asked for my epidural. Really, it was quite rude of them to make me keep asking. They assured me I'd get it when the time was right. By whose clock, I wondered? Mine said NOW.

Prince Charming asked if I cared if he went to Burger King, he was hungry. I looked at him and suddenly realized he was a clueless dolt from another planet. Where was the caring man offering to hold my hand and wipe my fevered brow, though my brow wasn't hot and my hand had a tube running into it. At that point, I told Charming where he could go. I don't recall Burger King being located there.

It was approaching seven o'clock in the morning. We'd been there about an hour and a half. I learned the staff were taking bets on whether baby would appear before the seven a.m. shift change. Glad I could provide entertainment for the troops. A man in jeans and a t-shirt walked in, I asked if he were an orderly. He looked at me oddly and said, "I'm the doctor, I'll be delivering your baby." I replied that they sure dressed casually in this hospital. He replied that he'd just got there and hadn't had time to change yet. Okay, how about that epidural?

FINALLY, it was time for the epidural! I had to get up, lean against the little swing out table and stand perfectly still, literally not move a muscle, all the while singing "WHOOOOOOOO" in a very determined fashion. Watching them prep a needle that looked two-feet long for inserting into my spine region, I remember thinking WTF?

Ahhh! What was I doing? Oh yeah, having a baby. The doctor entered the room, looking doctor-like this time in scrubs and gloves. He spoke and I asked, "Where are you from? Definitely not here." He replied South Africa. Well, I was off and running, as I'd written to a friend in South Africa for years. We proceeded to have the loveliest chat and quite a few laughs about life there. Uh oh, I was laughing too much. Doc said I was depriving the baby of oxygen. Hmm, that wasn't very motherly of me. I apologized and said I was just having such a nice time. He stated I must have really liked the epidural.

Things got busy and we had to get down to business. There was a mirror stationed on the ceiling for the expectant mom to watch everything. The expectant dad, my charming prince, refused to look at the mirror and remained stationed next to my head. Yeah, that was helpful. I watched the proceedings and did as I was told.

In fascination, I gazed at the mirror and saw this creepy green slime oozing out of my private parts. I asked, "What on Earth is THAT? Doc replied in a very dry tone, "I believe that's you. You didn't get the enema, did you?" Oh man, talk about embarrassment, taking a poo all over the man delivering my baby! I sincerely apologized and told him I had no idea I'd mess all over him, or I would surely have done a colon clean out. He sadly shook his head, probably thinking they didn't pay him enough to put up with this. I asked if I were going to do anything else embarrassing and he replied, "Probably not." The whole time, Prince Charming turned a variety of shades of red and was muttering under his breath about the humiliation of it all. Really? HE was humiliated? I hadn't seen him get a case of the squirts all over any of the medical staff.

I suppose in retaliation for using the Doc as a Porta Potty, he stated I'd have to wear an oxygen mask until the laughing passed. Wow, the added oxygen felt kind of great. I was enjoying the attention and listening to the play by play of this birth. Push, don't push, push, and so on. Before long, everyone got excited, sort of like the last inning during a tied-score World Series game. Next thing I knew, this gorgeous baby popped out and I was pleased as punch. I had no idea if the baby was a boy or a girl, we didn't want to know beforehand. Of course I asked, "What is it?" Naturally, they replied, "It's a baby." I guess my Rodney Dangerfield personality had rubbed off on them!

The baby proved to be a boy. Yay! Boys are nice. I watched the staff as they cleaned him up, took a foot print and weighed him. In my epidural-addled mind, it looked like he was a baby turkey being judged at the County fair. Weigh 'em, measure 'em, fill in the certificate. Then the gentle whack on the baby's bum to get the whole breathing process going. Seems like a most undignified beginning to a beautiful life!

He was born at 7:02 a.m. The betters choosing the early shift lost. What's funny is I definitely remember hearing 7:02 a.m. Imagine my surprise when I got the official birth certificate and it stated 7:01 a.m. My friend Ed, who knows about these things, stressed that I MUST get the certificate corrected, as I could throw off the whole balance of baby's destiny with a wrong time reported. Whatever.

One favorite memory was when the hospital volunteer came round later that day. I was in my room, naked from the waist down, as the nurse did whatever they do to get your urine into a bag. I couldn't feel a thing. Without warning, the curtain whooshes open and an uber-friendly lady asks, "Would you like to get a souvenir birth certificate?" As she's asking this, I notice the door is wide open and people are walking by, looking at my naked va jay jay in all its glory, with a tube collecting urine. I was too dumbfounded to be angry. I replied, "Uh, we're kind of busy here. Would you mind coming back later, and closing the door on your way out?" Miss Cheerful piped up, "Oh, certainly! Bye!" and off she went. Okay. That was the beginning of losing any modesty I ever had.

The next day, I watched 'The Young and the Restless' on my television. The curtain was drawn. My mammaries were being rather stubborn about producing any milk. I'd been instructed how to use a pumping machine to collect milk for the little prince and was busily attempting to imitate Elsie the Cow and fill that bottle. Not really happening. At this rate, the kid was going to starve.

I could hear such a commotion in the bed next to me, as a young girl was brought in with her family. It would take a book to relay the conversations, squabbling, accusations of theft by the girl's mother of the girl's brother over keeping the change from a burger place they stopped at on the way. The girl's other brother stating he guessed she wouldn't be hitting any parties soon. The girl's mother calling social security to get a number for the baby. I never heard the girl utter a peep.

Feeling sorry for her at having such a start to what should have been a joyous time, my sympathy quickly turned to disbelief. I was naked from the waist up this time, as a hand whooshed my curtain open. The girl's older brother called out, "Look Mom, she's got your story on." He proceeded to plop on my bed and watch the show! I am not kidding. I didn't know whether to be offended that my naked ta tas didn't even merit a look from the man, or to laugh hysterically at this gross intrusion of my privacy. I did neither. By now, the little brother had come over and was staring in fascination at my chest and the machine hooked up to it. He never said a word. Half of that family had diarrhea of the mouth and the other half kept quiet as a defense mechanism, I suppose. I never stopped what I was doing, but calmly said, "Uh, could you please get off my bed and close the curtain? I'm kind of busy here." It was like reality penetrated the older brother's fog. "Oh, sure, sure" he replied and then they were gone.

I got the last laugh. I'd been warned the first 'movement' after the epidural could be rather painful. I'd been given a box of rectal rocket launchers to ease the process. As the girl's family continued to make enough noise to raise the dead, I felt my own personal Earth beginning to move and hobbled to the bathroom in my room. Rather painful had to be the most grotesque understatement ever lied to me. I'm not sure how it happened, but someone had apparently loaded jagged boulders, broken shards of glass, hot molten lava and a few other weapons of destruction into my backside. I clenched the sink next to the toilet and let out the most unearthly howls I believe I've ever heard from a human. Even in my total distress, I noticed my roommates guests had gone dead quiet, mumbled something to her and bolted from the room. I started laughing and couldn't stop.

I felt rather sorry for the girl, between having the family she had and then hearing what must have sounded like the chick from the Exorcist in the restroom, alternating between blood-curdling shrieks and hysterical laughter.

Having a baby - what a party!

Writing Prompt
Having recently posted a piece on my recollection of childbirth, I had so many great and interesting reviews, I thought it would be a great opportunity for others to write about their experience(s)

The Joys Of Birth
Contest Winner


I've written the story exactly as it happened, using nicknames for certain body parts. If frank talk about my body, certain body functions and the birth process is offensive to you, please don't read this.

Ta tas: Breasts

Va jay jay: vagina

Thanks for reading my contest entry. We women definitely have stories to tell!
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