Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Birthing Process

Dating a med student provides an amazing insight into aspects of medicine that I now realize I have no desire to delve into.

Mainly childbirth.

MS claims that I am somewhat of a hippie, and I suppose that critique is valid. I qualify it by saying that I'm an East Coast hippie, which means I don't wear Birks and I bathe regularly but do have some tree-hugging, radically feminist ideas. One of my ideas involved childbirth. I've always viewed the process of giving birth as this empowering, awesome (as in the "enormous" sense, not "cool"), ultra female experience. The process of giving birth, creating life, bringing a new human on this planet is kind of amazing. Knowing that my body has the capacity and power to grow, change, create and house energy is unbelievable. I put my hands on my abdomen and am in awe at the mechanisms within me. I actually looked forward to the day when my belly would swell with the pulse of another human. I wanted to do natural childbirth, to feel my contractions as a life-force, to feel the baby push through my birth canal. I wanted to reach down between my legs and help guide its head out into the bright lights of life.

Not so much anymore. In fact, I've done a complete 180 and the thought of actually giving birth disgusts me more than a Cesearan.

For the past four weeks, I have been listening to stories of childbirth and getting text messages which go roughly like this: "Got to scrub in on hysterectomy this AM and use the Hibner Rod to remove uterus and scope bladder. Am also now proficient w bladder cath of female." The phrase: "And then I held her vagina open so she could deliver the placenta" actually passed his well-shaped lips. Vaginas should NEVER be big enough to "hold open." I mean, that doesn't even take two fingers!! And there's nothing like hearing about Grade 4 tearing (as in, from the back of the vagina, through the perinium all the way to the anus) and effacing cervixes to really make me NEVER want to give birth.

My mother is happy. She sees MS telling me all this as an excellent form of birth control. (Incidentally, she told me yesterday she always wished you could just vomit up children. Quick and painless.) MS, too, told me yesterday that he never wants to see another vagina again, which does not bode well for our relationship. However, if him not seeing my chach can prevent cervical dilation and tearing, I'm more than happy to oblige.