But I sort of feel like those of us who puked for 20 weeks instead of 12, or labored forEVVVER or had a million stitches or a life-threatening experience feel like we deserve a bigger one. At the very least, we want to tell our stories and be validated.
But we shouldn’t do that at the expense of a young mom who is already scared poop-less by all the pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting books, who’s tender mom heart is already feeling the pressure of ALL THE CHOICES and parenting styles and “OH MAH GAH WHAT IF I SCREW THIS UP?” The one who dreamily stares at a Pinterest maternity photo shoot that makes pregnancy look like a beautiful fairytale, then looks down at her ankles and sees that they are the size of an elephant’s,
Don’t freak that girl out. PLEASE.
Girlfriends, swap your horror stories if you must. I did finally tell my cousin, because she wanted to know. And sometimes talking about the rough ones with a friend help you get through the trauma that may have resulted from a difficult birth is NECESSARY and good. I get that, BELIEVE ME, I do. But don’t flaunt them.
You have a beautiful child, and THAT’S your badge of honor. Wear THAT with pride.
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Author’s note:
When I tell my story, I just say that it was difficult and leave out the gory details. I do, however, add in the lesson my husband and I learned from that birth: if you feel like you are being mistreated by medical staff or even are just receiving sub-par care, SPEAK UP and ADVOCATE for yourself. If you feel like the two of you will be too emotional to do it, invite a friend or family member to attend your birth specifically for that reason.
