Category Archives: Birth

Breech FML

The other day I was lying on the couch, and Max was sitting on my stomach then flailed himself backwards to lie down. He has no idea how to properly lie down, so as dangerously violent as possible he just falls backwards onto nothing. Poor little guy has so much trust in the world, like there’ll always be a soft little pillow behind him to fall back on and not a sharp jagged brick with racoon poop on it.

He flails back and lands his head on my legs. Then kicks off my stomach to scoot down further, and two kicks later, legit kicked me in the junk. Like so hard. SO HARD! I had this amazing flashback to when I was pregnant, it was like in one of those really well directed movies that my ‘I’ve-been-awake-since-4am-brain’ isn’t allowing me to remember the name of right now. Where the camera quickly zooms out to a flashback, and all these scenes just flash before you. And within that flashback was the memory of when he was breech.

He went breech twice, because he likes to test my patience and ability to handle stress. And the first time he did it I was in a meeting with an account manager who was telling me about an email deployment or probably something more important that I couldn’t pay attention to, and I felt him turn around. Like I actually felt it, and she was talking to me and all I could think of was “what. the. fuck. was. that.” like a whole 8 month old person just flipped over in my body. I knew exactly what had just happened, there’s no mistaking that feeling. I tried to ignore it and deny it and pretend it didn’t happen, because I didn’t wanna deal with anymore pregnancy nonsense, since I had the best pregnancy ever until month 8 when every day something went wrong, and now this?!

Late that night we went to Wal Mart, I’m sure for some stupid craving I had of like canned beans and liquorice. And as I’m walking through the frozen fish section, oh… it’s so hard to even type this because I can feel it again. He kicked downwards. HE KICKED DOWNARDS! There’s no way you reading this will understand how fucking fucked that is. HE KICKED DOWNWARDS!!!!!!! DO YOU GET IT? UGHHHHH I can’t even type this, I’m actually cringing right now and maybe possibly crying.

So at the highlight moment of my life, I’m standing in a Wal Mart fish isle at 11pm at night, I’m grabbing the fish freezer with the deathliest death grip ever and crying, because a person within my body has just kicked down basically out of my body. I was sure a foot must have been dangling out at that point, it hurt so bad there’s no way something didn’t just come out. I checked. He was still contained. And then I cried… I cried in the fish isle of Wal Mart in the middle of a late night shopping trip to get beans, liquorice, and probably what turned into $80.00 worth of other food that I randomly craved when I saw it in the isle.

I stood there and I cried and I wanted to barf. If you know me, you know I had an irrational fear of child birth. Wait, irrational isn’t the right word… I think everyone must be afraid that a human is coming out of a part of their body that isn’t probably human sized. But I mean I was really insane about it…I convinced myself it wasn’t even happening, but I’m saving those details for another post. All I’m saying is, I’m crying in Wal Mart because I realized in that moment that “OMG nothing even came out just now and that hurt more than anything I’ve ever felt in my life times a gazillion billion”, like it’s not even a comparable hurt to ANYTHING ever. AND NOTHING CAME OUT!?!?! So imagine how much worse it’s gonna be when it comes out?!?!??

So you know what’s really weird? And this is messed up… that kick in the Wal Mart fish isle, was literally way worse than him actually coming out. Although I feel like when you’re in labour your not really paying attention, so maybe it wasn’t worse… but when I think back to how much both of those events sucked, I really distinctly remember the Wal Mart kick as way way worse. Although when I read this back to myself, it really downplays the child birth part… friends don’t read this wrong, that super sucked too. It sucked A LOT. Like worse than anything ever. There was screaming and crying, like lots of screaming, and swearing obviously. But on a level playing field, I swear to god, that Wal Mart kick… nothing compares. Long story short, I can’t buy fish at Wal Mart anymore because it’s bad memories, and not buying fish at Wal Mart seems like a big win in the end run anyway.


Two years ago this week-ish, I got pregnant. My memory is telling me it was last year, but that’s not possible.  I was just so tired last year that I forgot last year even happened. I can’t believe it’s already been 2 years?? How does that even go by so fast!?   I have a daily struggle on whether or not to have another baby… 50% of the time I just want to be pregnant again because I loved it, but that’s not a good enough reason to have another baby. And 50% of the time I think when Max is older he’ll appreciate a sibling or two. BUT the other 100% of the non 50%’s (MAKES NO SENSE, I KNOW), those times I just can’t have another one… I can’t take my attention off of Max, I love him way too much. And I’m so super freaked out to give birth again considering what happened last time…that every time I even get close to thinking “hmm maybe we should” my brain clicks in and reminds me about what happened in that last 2 hours of the 86 hours of labour, and I get so fucking freaked out that the thought stops immediately. I wish they videotaped my labour and showed it to high school students around the country, it would end teen pregnancy.

It’s so crazy, honestly… the decision to have Max was a really really easy decision a couple years ago. But the decision to have 2 babies is significantly harder. I never expected that. I always thought if you have one why not just have tons, it shouldn’t even require a conversation haha. Maybe if Max were an asshole baby instead of the perfect baby, it would make the decision a lot easier. #Fail #IWishIWasntOld



How many times during my pregnancy did I hear “make sure you get a Brazilian before you go into labour”. SO. MANY. TIMES. This seemed like such a priority for so many people, important enough that I heard it from all different types of people at any moment they could fit it into a convo.

Conversation that actually happened:
Friend: Don’t forget to plan to get waxed like a day or two before your due date
Me: I have so many more other things I’m concerned with. Also I feel extremely uncomfortable naked and this pregnant (Another post for later!).

Friend 2: You need to plan to get waxed before you get to the hospital, you’re going to regret it.
Me: A giant person (comparatively) is going to come out of my body, so I couldn’t care less about anything else.

Anyway, this went on for a while between so many people so many times. Idiots. Who even cares???

Dude, even one time in our birthing class two of the women there asked the instructor (lol birthing instructor. “Here are instructions on how to make a baby come out of your body.” It’s ridiculous in retrospect.) when they should get waxed before labour? And if it was allowed? It was such a priority for everyone. Meanwhile my priority was like “fucken please how is this going to come out??” that’s my priority. Then I had panic attacks. Then I convinced myself he wasn’t going to come out

I remember when I first heard of Brazilians, back in the 90s during and episode of Sex and the City, and Samantha explaining all about them. And I feel like for sure she meant you should have one when giving birth, right? It wasn’t just for hooking up (do kids still use that word? Do I sound old because I called 20 year olds kids?), it was DEFINITELY for when you’re in labour obviously. It was a subtle undertone in that episode, but I got it for sure.

So I’m in labour, and I’m pushing and everything is going wrong, and the doctor is freaking out yelling at me, and I’m yelling and swearing and crying and in general being a huge fucking mess, and there are 12 other people at the bottom of the bed staring at everything EVERYTHING (including Brian, thank you very much), and then the umbilical cord rips and blood shoots into the air from the umbilical cord, kind of like that scene from There Will Be blood (OH I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE!! Zing!) when the tower falls over and all the oil comes exploding out?! (how hot is this story right now??). It was just like that, and I remember crying and screaming and looking down at the table, and it was so silent… and in slow motion, like a really dramatic scene in a Scorsese film. I heard the oxygen they were giving Max, everything else sounded like quiet mumbling, I heard the doctor screaming at one point “PUMP UP HER EPIDURAL SHE’S GONNA NEED IT! OVERRIDE THE SYSTEM!!”, and then a heart monitor beeping, and more silence, and looking to my left at the lead paediatrician trying to make Max breathe, and looking to my right at my doula who was crying, and my midwife in the corner cowering with her face covered and upset, and again to the bottom of the bed – the 12 people, eager students, experienced doctors all trying to deal with this situation… and all I could think of in that moment was… fuck, I wish I got that wax.

Fucking Embarassing

Where was your partner when you were in labour? Because Brian was in the EXACT place I wish he wasn’t. We argue over this all the time. I can’t shake it, like I can’t get the vision out of my head. My midwife screaming “PUSH” and I look down and there’s Brian looking up at me. WHY ARE YOU DOWN THERE? I’m so ugh. I have to get over it, he’s apologized a million times, but i can’t get over it. The vision of him talking to my midwife as I’m pushing and her showing him all these things that even I haven’t seen, it just pops into my head at the worst times. It’s horrible.

The room was just total utter chaos, and I remember pushing and all I could think of was “tell him to not be down there!!”. But you are in the worst pain ever, and you can’t get your brain to verbalize your thoughts. So i’m pushing and I’m not even concentrating at all on the fact that I’m having a baby right now, because I’m trying so hard to make my brain tell him “fucking don’t be there”. In fact, for all the shit I gave him before we had a baby, about supporting me and being with me and blah blah blah, I think at that moment, I’d honestly rather he wasn’t even in the room. Well, I mean…that moment, and also I’d prefer him not to be there during the vacuum moment, during the placenta moment, during the postpartum crying all the time moments, the breastfeeding isn’t working so let’s have strangers come and grab me to try and make it work moments. He could have just gone to Vegas or something for the week and come back and I would have just given him a baby.

And ok so the whole labour was a huge horrible mess of badness, like it went from my midwife, doula, and Brian in a very quiet calm room… to very quickly about 14 people in the room, all at the bottom of the bed having a little party. But I don’t even care about them, I’m never gonna see them again. And THEY’RE DOCTORS, they see that all the time. How many times had Brian seen that?? let me count….fucking zero (I hope?!). I’ve been thinking about retribution for this, but there’s nothing he could possibly do that would equal it.

Do you know that we don’t argue ever*? We’re losers, we just don’t… except about this. It totally fucked up our relationship, how do you write that on divorce papers?? “What’s the reason for the separation?” “he saw a baby emerge from my body in horrible up close detail and I’m not comfortable living with him because of it”. I would for sure lose custody in that battle.

I can’t live it down. It’s been almost 13 months, I just can’t. GAHHH, writing this is making it so much worse, I think maybe I shook it like 30% and now i’m back to 0% again. Like, I’m legit about to leave the house before he wakes up so I don’t have to face him today.

Brian, if you’re reading this… and you are reading it because I’m going to ask you to share it on Facebook, I love you. Sorry I’m not over it, but I still like you tons, so just ignore me because I’m crazy.

The picture for this post is the worst. I don’t want to post pictures of Max on the blog, but I’ll make an exception. This is Max at 4 or 5 months old right after I dropped him, because I’m an amazing mom. I tripped on a jogging stroller that was right outside our front door, and as I tripped he fell out of my arms and on the way down hit his cheek on my knee before I could grab him, luckily that slowed his fall so he never hit the ground. DROPPED MY BABY!?! You can’t feel any worse than that, trust me. The amount of kisses I gave him at that moment as I was losing my shit, most likely fucked him up for life.

fine print:
*The “we don’t argue ever” was a relic to pre-baby relationship. It’s funny how much you can argue about stupid meaningless bullshit when you’re just so tired. Like:
“you didn’t do his jacket up!!”
“i did do his jacket up! PLUS it’s so warm outside!!”
“yeah but not all the way to his neck!, forget it, i’ll just do it!!!!!!!”.
“fine, forget it… let’s just not even go”


We went to prenatal classes at fancy-shmanc Sunnybrook Hospital (mostly because they have Swiss Chalet in their lobby and we’re disgusting people.). The prenatal teacher was great. She told us everything we needed to know (all of which went out the window, but whatevs).

The only thing she didn’t tell us was this one thing she kept hinting on, and this thing kept getting shown in videos and the notebooks (yes there are pre-natal notebooks. With fun/gross illustrations, that I couldn’t help but assume the illustrator was giggling at while drawing them, but that’s because I’m immature.) but she would never talk about it, and she wouldn’t show the part in the videos when it happened. She always said “We’ll skip that, it’s a really really REALLY horrible procedure but it never happens, so I don’t need to freak you guys out”. SHE ALWAYS SAID THIS. SO I KNEW I WOULD HAVE TO HAVE IT. GOD!!!!

She said that in her 25+ years of doing this, she’s only ever had one person who had to do this procedure, so it’s extremely rare and so horrible that she’d rather not delve. I can’t stress to you enough how horrible she said it was, like so fucking horrible she couldn’t even talk about it?!?! I want my money back for that class and all of the quarter chicken dinners I consumed while waiting for class to start. ugh how gross is that?!

I realize in retrospect how bad my labour actually was considering I had the ONE procedure that even freaked a nurse out so bad she didn’t want to talk about it. Anyway, she was right… it was horrible – so I guess she did a great job?

It was such a bad thing that I didn’t even remember it happening until like 4 months later when Brian was like “hey remember that? That sucked.” and I was like “huh? No, when did that happen??’ and he’s like “Uhh… the whole 20 minutes you were screaming” and I was like “WHA?!?!?” SERIOUSLY ZERO RECOLLECTION. How scary is that??? I honest to god don’t even remember it whatsoever. If I think really hard, I do remember significant screaming and some swearing, just like in the movies when everyone in real life says “that’s not really how it happens” but I don’t remember why or what the hell. My brain is failing me.

Speaking of Brian, my rule is he isn’t allowed to talk about the birth… I like to pretend he wasn’t there. That’s not normal, I know. But neither is screaming naked in a room full of 14 people. (Good visual. Can’t wait to see you in real life and remind me that you read this, FML.)

Next time I have a baby, it’s gonna be alone in the woods so people don’t bug me with any invasive bullshit. Like honestly, just don’t touch me. Don’t even come near me. DON’T! #InTheWoods

So Much TMI

So, I went to get my hair cut at this random new salon i’ve never been to. But it was there, I was there, Brian was there… it was the only time I could do it. I re-wrote this entry 3 times trying to figure out the best way to tell it, I still don’t know. I’m just gonna delve right into the conversation…BEGIN SCENE:

Me: Is there anyone available for a wash and cut right now?
Salon: Yep *goes and gets guy*
Stylist: Come on in. My name is “I totally forgot, so let’s call him Bentley since that’s a popular name because Teen Mom, that’s why”
Stylist/Bentley: What do you want done? (As he runs his fingers through my hair)
Me: Just a tr…
Stylist: Oh, you have alopecia?
Me: No. I had a baby and my hair fell out. thanks for noticing, now kill me.
Stylist: Oh congratulations. Was it a vaginal birth?


Also, can we talk about the word vaginal birth for a second? No, we can’t. that’s my point. Can we not just call it “natural birth”? or something, like honestly… why fucking say vaginal anything ever in any context unless you’re in a doctor’s office..AND EVEN THEN. Like just don’t say it. It’s so gross. It’s on my list of 5 words I can’t stand. I know you’re curious now… “smear” is the #1 word on my list. Ok no word of a lie, I just gagged as I typed it. ugh.


Me: uh I guess
Stylist: Did you have to get stitches?

??????????????????? I think he’s playing the game called “crossing the line” and he just won the game. My problem is I think I’m missing something in my brain, because while I realize how inappropriate that question was, I also found it hilarious that this super flamboyantly awesome stranger who has said only like 10 words to me since he met me 10 seconds ago, has just no problem busting shit out like that. And I wanted to delve into so many of my horrible child birth stories for him at this point because I think he would have been SO MUCH FUN to tell it all to. He would have thrown up, guaranteed. It would have been amazing. But i don’t have the balls(proof – see; natural birth above)

Me: uh…
Stylist: Because my friend had a baby and I heard some people need to get stitches she said.
Me: That’s true
Stylist: LOLZLOLZ! A c-section sounds so much better

WHAT DO YOU KNOW?? Penis. that’s all. Penis. That’s what you know. stop. Also, can you please cut my hair soon?

Me: Yeah i guess. I almost had a c section, but luckily it didn’t happen. (why am i saying this even)
Stylist: My friend said sometimes they have to cut to make room for the baby to come out. LOLZLOL Can you even imagine???

FML. (side: I just thought of a hillarious new FML Tumblr I want to start, but I will refrain).

This is like Pop Up Video, and a fact bubble comes on that says “Remember in health class when you said “Hey I don’t think babies can fit out of there” and your lying bitch of a teacher said “your body is meant for this, they fit out”. EEEEHHHH WRONG. (that was a buzzer sound). They don’t fit, she was lying, everyone is lying. They should just tell teenagers the truth, this would instantly end teen pregnancy. It’s almost ending adult pregnancy for me right now it’s so ridiculous. Don’t read that to read that i’m pregnant. I’m not. Although, I made bacon and eggs at midnight last night for no reason other than I realllllllly needed it randomly. But that doesn’t count. God, I suck with staying on topic.

Me; Yeah I’ve heard

Then he went into some story about how he’s dating the guy who’s the director of something fancy at TD Bank but he doesn’t really like him. It’s just that Mr. TD Bank makes a lot of money to finance Stylist/Bentley’s lifestyle. This isn’t going anywhere now, because how do you even end a blog like this? Like this.