15.9.15

Oh.

It's just dawned on me, or it did over the weekend, at least, that I don't actually want to give birth. 

This really is a terrible idea. Who thought having a baby was going to be 'fun'? Oh, yes, that would be me. 

You see, I've just figured out that labour = extreme pain, and loss of control (and we all know how much I HATE not being in control) and a whole host of unpleasant possibilities like catheters and IV lines and A WHOLE BABY COMING OUT OF YOUR VAGINA. Except that last one is more of a certainty. 

Until now, the idea of giving birth has been a bit hazy and abstract and something I'll just do when the time comes because I won't have a choice. But then I hit 36 weeks and BAM! Reality kicked in. The reality that babies' heads are MASSIVE. I challenge you to inflate a balloon to how big you think a baby's head is. I guarantee you'll be off by about 3-4 centimetres. Babies' heads are huge. And don't give me any nonsense about how the bones overlap so they can slide out all swiftly and easily while you do a bit of light panting and contemplate what you're having for tea that evening. 

I braved the epi-no on Sunday (go Google it; I'm not explaining that grossness here). It was...less than pleasant. I had to have a lie down for a good forty minutes afterwards to recover. I couldn't even muster the energy to pull my knicks back on so just lay there, naked from the waist down, wide-eyed and shell-shocked while Matt played GTA downstairs, safe in the knowledge that he's never going to have 10+ centimetres of anything emerge from his nether regions. 

Of course, he was very sympathetic and offered that well-worn platitude all men trot out - "I'd do it for you if I could". Well you can't, can you? So that's about as meaningful as me offering to buy you a brand new Lamborghini when I have approximately £25 in my savings account. You see, I would if I could, darling. 

I'm trying to relax and just go with the flow (God, I hate that phrase) and read and listen to lots of positive birthing messages. But it doesn't matter how much I imagine blowing out a candle with my exhalations, or being filled with a golden light, or welcoming the pain as 'healthy pain', I'm still shit-scared of the whole thing. 

Send help. And lots of pain relief meds. 

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