Herself has been struck down with round ligament pain but she has to struggle on, bills to pay etc. Being pregnant just seems like a constant war with your body. A dark line has started to appear on herself’s tummy which has her freaking out that it will never go away. Personally I’d be more freaked out about pushing a baby’s head out my vagina but I always keep that opinion to myself as she’s getting antsy about the baby’s birth too.
“I think we should watch One Born Every Minute to prepare ourselves for the big day.”
“Sounds like a great plan babe.”
We set aside all of Saturday to watch several seasons of One Born Every Minute. We both sat there with our pens and notepads, poised to be model students. We would of preferred to watch a Christmas film whilst scoffing chocolates but alas. With hindsight we had no idea what Pandora’s box of anxiety that show would take us on.
The feisty Liverpudlian permanently tanned midwives coaxed out too many babies with their no nonsense attitude.
“I can’t do it!” Screams too many women in pretty much every episode as they writhe in agony.
“Yes you can,” says the Liverpudlian midwife sternly. Cue close up of head crowning which prompted us to cross our legs. I assumed that because I am a woman I would understand her labour needs more but I don’t have a clue just like the majority of the men in the show.
She turned off the TV. Her face had drained of colour as had mine. Privately I was so happy that she had to go through this.
“I can’t do that Birdie.”
“But you have to babe.”
“I’m having palpitations here at the thought… God I feel I’m going to shit myself with the fear.”
“I read somewhere that it’s not uncommon to shit yourself in labour.” I added unhelpfully as her face betrayed.
“Maybe I can get knocked out?” I held back from telling her that back in the day some women were given alcohol intravenously to aid the labour process – MENTAL.
“I don’t think so… maybe text Siobhan or your sister?” She nodded and texted furiously. I was shocked that I gave a good suggestion for once.
10 seconds later her phone started beeping. She started reading the texts.
“GentleBirth,” she mumbled as she continued to read.
“Well we’d all like that but it’s a contradiction. It’s like me saying I’m an occasional alcoholic.”
“The girls swear by it.” She downloaded the app and has been listening to the guidance daily. To be fair I was proved wrong. Herself has gone from someone that dreaded childbirth to a woman that is confidant in what her body is capable of doing. A strong calmness has descended upon her. It’s pretty awesome to witness and has made me very proud of her.