Labour

I used to be of the opinion that women who claim they have a higher tolerance for pain because they have to endure childbirth are talking rubbish. It’s not that men’s tolerance is any higher or lower, it’s just that they don’t have wombs. I thought it was that simple.

Witnessing a labour has changed my opinion. Hats off to my missus, there’s no way in hell I’d have done that. No way Jose.

If you’re pregnant, you might want to stop reading here.

Firstly, hats off to me too for bravely not passing out. I felt like it, and had to check where the nearest chair was a couple of times, but the weird echoey tunnel feeling of a girly swoon passed and I remained bravely on my own two feet for the duration, (apart from the short period when i sat on the floor outside).

I have to say though, that laughing gas should be available down the pub. That stuff looks amazing. My missus had a rather extreme reaction to say the least. Her sides were splitting with laughter, and she was shouting at the top if her voice, “I’m pished!! Wow! Labour is cool! Seriously! Morgans and diet coke please!!”

It was at the point that she started singing ‘Oh Flower of Scotland’ at full blast that we thought that she had perhaps had enough. It wasn’t until foam was coming out of her mouth and she had me by the throat that the gas was wrenched from her vice-like grip.

The upshot of this was that she was left without her favourite pain control and the laughing stopped as suddenly as it had began. Sobered up in seconds, and no hangover. Fantastic. Brewers of the world, I hope you’re reading this, I think you should get some top scientists on the case.

Forty-five minutes worth of failed attempts at an epidural were, bizarrely, the most uncomfortable part of the process to watch.

According to my missus though, it really is surprising how quickly you forget the pain once you see junior’s face, and it is definitely worth going through to end up with that result.

Add comment January 12th, 2005