The birth of my first child was a truly momentous occasion. And once I realized that my drug free birth plan had gone up in smoke, I turned to my anesthesiologist and yelled:
“I DON’T CARE IF THAT NEEDLE MOMENTARILY STINGS MY SPINE OR WHETHER IT’S A RUSTY SWITCH BLADE COVERED IN HEROIN. GIVE ME DRUGS NOW!”
Only then, was I able to bask in the joy of giving birth to the first ever human being.
I had sort of read “What To Expect When You’re Expecting” and knew exactly how everything should happen because those publishers invented babies. I remember the day my husband brought me home a copy where I gathered from the cover that getting pregnant meant I had to start wearing sweater sets and sitting in rocking chairs while emoting an expression that said: “My life is over”. The most recent edition has updated its look to feature an expectant mother in a cute outfit wearing a look that reads: “That’s right bitches, I’m still in my pre-pregnancy jeans.” I’m so looking forward to seeing the movie version. No really. I’m sure motherhood is portrayed in a truly realistic way by Cameron Diaz.
In the first 24 hours I sweat so much that I was convinced my kidney’s were shutting down. I couldn’t decide whether or not this was a fortuitous weight loss opportunity or the end of my life. But I was so exhausted from staring at my baby all night (the first human ever born) that I didn’t care what was happening. There could have been an earth quake and my response would have been “Isn’t she so fucking beautiful?! Can you believe she just CAME OUT OF MY BODY?” Apparently the sweating was due to those pregnancy hormones instructing my body that there was no longer a baby to nourish – so start flushing. Thanks for mentioning this to me anyone who has ever had a baby before.
More concerning to me was that fact that about four weeks in I had developed intense abdominal pains. I couldn’t believe I had to have my appendix out so soon after giving birth. Hey Universe, How about giving my body a break? I was in such agony that my husband not only had to help me out of bed but pretty much had to carry me to the living room. After calling Mother Risk and Tele-Health (Thank you Canada) – I finally decided that I needed to contact my own family doctor before this appendix exploded. She quickly took my call and, before obviously sending me straight to Emergency, asked me a slew of questions to assess the situation. Her tone went from concern to confusion as she finally asked if I had been partaking in any “physical” activity. “You mean like sex?” I asked, “God no, I’d rather die than have sex. I’d rather have my finger nails pulls back and have lemon juice squeezed into them. I’d rather have a gigantic monkey sit on my – “. She interrupted me to further clarify her question: “No, Allana, I mean like exercise. Have you been trying to do anything really challenging?”. I found this almost laughable since my definition of challenging exercise had been seeing if I could walk to the corner without passing out. I revealed that I had tried ONE sit up the day before but clearly THAT wasn’t the issue.
“That’s the issue” she replied.
“You need to train your abdominal muscles to tighten up again”. ONE SIT UP? Are you kidding me?! Before getting pregnant I had been working with a trainer and now I couldn’t do one sit up without jumping to the conclusion that I needed major abdominal surgery?
Well, I’d like to reveal that I now have killer abs and can often be found doing sit ups while holding both my children in my arms. In fact people confuse me with Cameron Diaz ALL THE TIME. It’s no wonder she was cast in the movie version of “What To Expect When You’re Expecting”. I wonder if her bi-ceps look even more impressive in her fake pregnancy suit?
I’m also totally delusional. But you probably guessed that by now.