I Wanted to Die**

These are the words my Mom said while sharing a story about her eldest daughter, yours truly. Not exactly what every child wants to hear their Mother say about them. OK, so it was in relation to my birth story, but still, I wasn’t quite prepared for the resulting conversation.

Yesterday was my birthday, and my parents called to wish me a happy 3_th birthday. OK, why hide it? I turned 36. (BIG SIGH!) Anyway...

“Melanie, I remember that day so like it was yesterday.”

“Really because I don’t remember it at all. It’s pretty fuzzy for me.” We chuckle, and then I just had to go on and ask that question that will now haunt me: “So how many hours of labor did you have with me?” I had forgotten and was curious.

Silly me. I thought she was going to have to mull it over or run and look it up in my baby book, but no she quickly sputtered out: “22 hours, and it was awful! I wanted to die. No, I really did. I told the nurses that more than once.”

“WOW, Mom! I’m not sure what to say now.”

“Well, it was horrible…” (She went into far greater detail here than I wanted to hear, and so I’ll spare you those horrific details. After all, I got chills just hearing about it. GULP!) “But then once you arrived, I quickly put those thoughts behind me. Mothers can do that, you know.”

MENTAL NOTE: I think you need to re-read this blog or call Mom more often to have this conversation every time you are bemoaning your lack of a family of your own. Childbirth is scary! OK, I know that Moms say it is totally worth it, but YIKES -- 22hours of intense labor! REALLY? Come on.

**I meant to post this weeks ago (since my birthday was February 23), but I just found the draft, and so I am posting it now.