requisite end of year/end of highschool entry
for some reason or other, i have spent a lot of time lately thinking about childbirth.
no, a LOT of time.
sometimes it gets a little obsessive.
MORE than a little.
it pretty much all started one morning last week, when i woke up and remembered that i had had a dream about having a baby. not giving birth to a baby, but just having one. she was a beautiful little girl, half-black, with sweet caramel skin and an adorable little baby afro. i thought i would name her Trina, because in that dream, Trina was the most beautiful name in the WORLD (TrinaTrinaTrinatrinaTRINA). But i named her Katrina so that she'd have a "real" name, and called her Trina for short. she was gorgeous and smiley and sat nicely and quietly in her little baby bouncer seat.
so all the rest of the day, i thought about babies and how pleasant they can be, and how i don't really hate them as much as i sometimes profess to, and how it's quite probable that i'll have one someday (despite my inner conflict over contributing to overpopulation, being selfish, etc. but that's another entry altogether) and enjoy raising it very much.
THEN i went to the gym. and did some "running" on the elliptical machine. and read the fateful article.
"Ring of Fire" it was called.
the "ring of fire" is the name given to the infamous contraction during childbirth at which point the baby must "crown", and the widest part of its head passes through the vagina.
yes. HELL.
now, i had thought about childbirth before. i had considered the fact that it's supposed to be the most painful thing your body will ever put you through, and that your body will experience some changes because of it. i had also considered it to be the most beautiful thing your body will ever put you through, and a miracle of physiology, and an overall incredible and valuable life experience not to be missed. i had visions of being the sort of bad-ass earth mama who powers through a "natural" childbirth: midwife and partner by my side, drumming on a djembe, incorporating African dance into my writhing to open up my body and to transcend the experience, no dangerous and mind-numbing epidurals or drugs, just me and this baby communicating in that special secret way.
yeah, no.
it hadn't EVER occurred to me that (in 70-80% of first-time labors) you RIP. yes, the perineum RIPS. unless of course, you have something positively medieval-sounding called an episiotomy, in which the doctor makes the incision before your body has a chance to rip on its own. the idea behind it is that the healing will be cleaner and faster, but it's a dangerous procedure that can often lead to anal tearing, incontinence, etc., and HELLO???? that's still one more incision in my genitalia than i care to have.
according to what i've read (which now includes 1,000 Questions About Your Pregnancy...hey, i was at the library and i was curious), your body is already in so much agony during labor that you will hardly even feel the incision or rip - or for that matter, the stitches required to piece your vagina back together - but that doesn't take into account all the things that become painful AFTER the ordeal: walking, pooping, SEX. i LIKE my vagina! i like walking, pooping, and sex! i don't want to become a human purse in there! WHY does having a baby have to destroy the vagina???? is it selfish to be thinking this way?? does the little baby person at the end of the trauma make it worth it?? WHY????
so, anyway, that's been my line of thinking lately.
and on our last day of school (Wednesday), i was just chatting with ms. beermann (per usual), telling her the story of my baby dream and my sheer terror of childbirth. i had been telling the story to a number of people, and having a good laugh about it, but for some reason in telling it to her...well, all of a sudden i'm sobbing. i'm just crying and crying and crying and i don't even know why, and she's hugging me and holding me and it's all very emotional, and then she offers me up these two pieces of advice.
ONE: labor is a beautiful metaphor for life. bear with me, now. sometimes we face seemingly insurmountable obstacles, and it gets incredibly painful, and it can look like there isn't an end in sight. and, yes, it gets much harder before it gets easier. but once you pass that crucial "tipping point" (the Ring of Fire), it's smooth sailing from there, and you will be lead to the most indescribable joy and fulfillment you can ever experience. is it scary? absolutely. but just because it's scary doesn't mean you don't dive into it just like everything else.
and TWO: dreams about having a baby mean that you are reinventing yourself, that you are on the brink of a new chapter in your life/existence; you are being reborn. so maybe it means that i am becoming a sassy black woman named Trina, and the owner of a sexy short afro. and maybe not. but i do feel a sense of coming into my own. i am excited to go off to New College, to make plans and decisions and even research papers, and to discover who exactly i am becoming. how fucking cool that we now have the chance to entirely remake ourselves, to give birth to the adults that we are destined to become.
it's a terrifying and thrilling time we are facing right now. but we will face it with dreams and fears and discoveries and pain and exuberance and tears and wonderful teachers like ms. beermann whom you love because they help you figure out the important stuff.
(yeah!)
no, a LOT of time.
sometimes it gets a little obsessive.
MORE than a little.
it pretty much all started one morning last week, when i woke up and remembered that i had had a dream about having a baby. not giving birth to a baby, but just having one. she was a beautiful little girl, half-black, with sweet caramel skin and an adorable little baby afro. i thought i would name her Trina, because in that dream, Trina was the most beautiful name in the WORLD (TrinaTrinaTrinatrinaTRINA). But i named her Katrina so that she'd have a "real" name, and called her Trina for short. she was gorgeous and smiley and sat nicely and quietly in her little baby bouncer seat.
so all the rest of the day, i thought about babies and how pleasant they can be, and how i don't really hate them as much as i sometimes profess to, and how it's quite probable that i'll have one someday (despite my inner conflict over contributing to overpopulation, being selfish, etc. but that's another entry altogether) and enjoy raising it very much.
THEN i went to the gym. and did some "running" on the elliptical machine. and read the fateful article.
"Ring of Fire" it was called.
the "ring of fire" is the name given to the infamous contraction during childbirth at which point the baby must "crown", and the widest part of its head passes through the vagina.
yes. HELL.
now, i had thought about childbirth before. i had considered the fact that it's supposed to be the most painful thing your body will ever put you through, and that your body will experience some changes because of it. i had also considered it to be the most beautiful thing your body will ever put you through, and a miracle of physiology, and an overall incredible and valuable life experience not to be missed. i had visions of being the sort of bad-ass earth mama who powers through a "natural" childbirth: midwife and partner by my side, drumming on a djembe, incorporating African dance into my writhing to open up my body and to transcend the experience, no dangerous and mind-numbing epidurals or drugs, just me and this baby communicating in that special secret way.
yeah, no.
it hadn't EVER occurred to me that (in 70-80% of first-time labors) you RIP. yes, the perineum RIPS. unless of course, you have something positively medieval-sounding called an episiotomy, in which the doctor makes the incision before your body has a chance to rip on its own. the idea behind it is that the healing will be cleaner and faster, but it's a dangerous procedure that can often lead to anal tearing, incontinence, etc., and HELLO???? that's still one more incision in my genitalia than i care to have.
according to what i've read (which now includes 1,000 Questions About Your Pregnancy...hey, i was at the library and i was curious), your body is already in so much agony during labor that you will hardly even feel the incision or rip - or for that matter, the stitches required to piece your vagina back together - but that doesn't take into account all the things that become painful AFTER the ordeal: walking, pooping, SEX. i LIKE my vagina! i like walking, pooping, and sex! i don't want to become a human purse in there! WHY does having a baby have to destroy the vagina???? is it selfish to be thinking this way?? does the little baby person at the end of the trauma make it worth it?? WHY????
so, anyway, that's been my line of thinking lately.
and on our last day of school (Wednesday), i was just chatting with ms. beermann (per usual), telling her the story of my baby dream and my sheer terror of childbirth. i had been telling the story to a number of people, and having a good laugh about it, but for some reason in telling it to her...well, all of a sudden i'm sobbing. i'm just crying and crying and crying and i don't even know why, and she's hugging me and holding me and it's all very emotional, and then she offers me up these two pieces of advice.
ONE: labor is a beautiful metaphor for life. bear with me, now. sometimes we face seemingly insurmountable obstacles, and it gets incredibly painful, and it can look like there isn't an end in sight. and, yes, it gets much harder before it gets easier. but once you pass that crucial "tipping point" (the Ring of Fire), it's smooth sailing from there, and you will be lead to the most indescribable joy and fulfillment you can ever experience. is it scary? absolutely. but just because it's scary doesn't mean you don't dive into it just like everything else.
and TWO: dreams about having a baby mean that you are reinventing yourself, that you are on the brink of a new chapter in your life/existence; you are being reborn. so maybe it means that i am becoming a sassy black woman named Trina, and the owner of a sexy short afro. and maybe not. but i do feel a sense of coming into my own. i am excited to go off to New College, to make plans and decisions and even research papers, and to discover who exactly i am becoming. how fucking cool that we now have the chance to entirely remake ourselves, to give birth to the adults that we are destined to become.
it's a terrifying and thrilling time we are facing right now. but we will face it with dreams and fears and discoveries and pain and exuberance and tears and wonderful teachers like ms. beermann whom you love because they help you figure out the important stuff.
(yeah!)