hooray!

With this post, we have written something every day this month. It's the first time we managed to fill up a whole month, something that I naturally count with a major achievement on par with, oh, I don't know, sitting through a Star Wars marathon. Something that involves sitting, in any case, and not much actual hard work. That doesn't make me feel any less triumphant, though!

We came close last month, missing just a single day (stupid January 8th... what do you think we were doing instead?!), as well as January of 2007 and February, 2004 (the latter is still our best month by number of posts, but I have no doubt that record will soon be smashed as well).

So hooray! And maybe later this evening Leah will even write something with actual content.

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file with other unhelpful advice such as "sleep now while you still can"

At church this morning I had a chat with a friend who is pregnant with her first child, and as is my wont I said things that are tremendously unhelpful to someone about to go through labor for the first time. Like, "I screamed so loud the neighbors could hear me two blocks away!" and "It's really not scary, because it hurts so much you WANT to die!"

Also? I mentioned how the placenta looks really neeto! Like your best biology class demo ever! I didn't mention how we stored ours in the freezer for three months before finally chucking it into the tomato patch. I mean, I didn't want her to think I was a weirdo or something.

It's true; our hippy homebirth situates our family squarely in the crazy people camp. When I go to the doctor's office these days the nurses still whisper about "the woman who had NO OB!!!" (Someone the other day asked me, "Can you have drugs at a homebirth?" And I was like, "Whatever drugs you normally have in your house, I guess.") But we differ from some stereotypical descriptions of homebirthers you may have heard. There were no crystals or nature sounds at my homebirth. No one coached me through soothing breathing. I didn't connect with my power animal or colored energies. I just, you know, did it. I muscled down, screamed the hell out of every contraction, and the baby came out mostly on his own. I compare it to going through the stomach flu or bad mexican food. No one needs to give you a tutorial on how to get through it. Although for safety sake, I won't try to search for that sort of thing on YouTube.

Not to belittle anyone's totally helpful anti-pain birthing techniques. More power to you! (and life essence and colored light, when it comes to that.) But that's not my thing, and I'm so happy I spent the last few weeks before giving birth organizing my laundry room rather than reading how-to books. Because I didn't get out of bed for a week, and there were A LOT of people in my laundry room. Before child number two, you better believe those baskets are going to be labeled. With cycle instructions taped to the door of the washer.

Don't get me wrong; thinking about giving birth can be totally scary. And childbirth itself isn't like going out for icecream, but I could name a lot of things that are way worse. Like the stomach flu. Or a really bad urinary tract infection. Or sitting through Bob Castas's commentary of the olympics.

But in the end, however long the darn thing takes, it's over. And there's your baby. And more importantly, YOU'RE NO LONGER PREGNANT! And one way or another, it's all worth it.

two minutes old

two minutes old

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