Don't Be Telling Me 'Bout Birthing Babies

I was reading Philip Theibert's article, Women, Please Keep Your Birthing Stories to Yourself, and I couldn't help but laugh as he ranted about women relating their childbirth stories as if they invented the idea. I kind of know what he's saying, because I'll admit I get a little tired of hearing them, too. Because Philip often teaches writing classes, I suspect he does get a lot of essays on the joy of childbirth. Don't worry, Philip, I'm not going to bore you with a labor and delivery tale here. Well, not much anyway.

I've listened to many women tell their child birthing stories as if they were in a field picking flowers, all the while I'm thinking 'Were you there, or were you on drugs?" To be honest, having a baby with an epidural is probably a much different experience than it was back in my day. I had one of those nutty doctors who was stingy with drugs and thought it was better to allow the baby to come into the world drug free. Personally, I always wondered if he was just hoarding them for himself. There were a couple of points during the whole deal where it wouldn't have mattered to me if little Byrd had come into the world sounding like Dennis Hopper's character in "Easy Rider." Hey, maaaannnn.

I was young when I got pregnant the first time and knew about as much about having babies as I knew about driving a semi, which I think probably have a lot in common, especially if you're trying to drive one through a garage door three times too small. Not that there weren't people trying to give me information on the subject. Other women gave me the lowdown on everything from being as close as you'll ever get to death without dying to a heavenly experience. I figure those heavenly experience people got drugs. I learned a valuable tool in talking with other young pregnant women in the future: Keep your mouth shut.

Being pregnant was a fun thing for me, though, because I was never sick and in good health. The best thing was that everyone around me treated me like I was special. The first time, that is. I discovered with the second pregnancy that your ability to deliver a baby is pretty much an accepted fact, and you lose that special place in the universe.

My most vivid memory of childbirth? Fussing and cussing at my doctor when he finally got into the delivery room where I was. The nurses laughed because my outrageous attitude made it sound like this whole thing was his fault. His calm demeanor just aggravated me all the more, and he just smiled at me while I screamed, "I've changed my mind! I've changed my mind!" Thank goodness, they didn't have videotape back then. I might have had to hurt somebody.

So, buck up, Philip, you probably will have to read many more child birthing stories before it's all over. I know it's tough sometimes, but I figure we're like a lot of war veterans. It may not have been the worst battle in the war, but when people are shooting at you, it seems just as big an ordeal.

Philip Theibert