Well, it happened. A human tiny person made his way out of me and into the world on January 29th at 8:25 pm. It was a long, mostly uneventful labor thanks to an epidural right out of the gate until, of course, said epidural fell out at 8 cm and I gave birth naturally. Ah, the irony. Even when I opt out of being a martyr, I still can't shake the role. At any rate, none of my mom friends were able to really give it to me straight about what contractons feel like, so here it is, at least at the 8 cm mark: a grand piano pushed by a mac track through your rectum at stop/start intervals. You're welcome. That said, it was all worth it, and not just because I feel like a badass. My son, Ari, is the coolest little dude on the planet. And we made him! It blows my mind.
Two more things and then I'll shut up: I never knew that I could survive on so little sleep and breastfeeding is no picnic in the beginning.Oh and one more: I cannot believe that society at large views women as the lesser gender. We grow humans, we expel said humans and then our bodies come equipped with the potential to keep them alive for months to come. I mean, come onnnn. Men are more capable!?!? Oy.
Okay, there's a sleeping baby balanced precariously on my forearm. Time to try to move him without waking him up. Wish me luck.