May I call you Kate? I know you read Fourtuitous regularly, so I wanted to take a moment to congratulate you on your new little one. I can’t imagine what the delivery room was like for you. I did have a few interns in the room, but the paparazzi stayed away. So your birth story totally wins…and that’s important. You should know that, now. Moms use birth stories to one-up each other. Everyone wants their story to be the easiest or the hardest or the most beautiful or terrifying. You’ve so got this.
The whole world watching and waiting, the queen holding her breath, the very real fear that a picture of your vagina could find its way on every tabloid lining every grocery store across America, Great Britain and beyond, you win. I worried about pooping upon delivery, but I did not worry about anyone except the doc and a few nurses knowing if I did. You trump me.
Okay, and there’s the queen. I’m sure the pressure of her presence was almost too much to bear. She probably didn’t peer between your legs during a particularly horrific contraction and whisper, “You’re doing it wrong” like my mom did, but whatever.
I do wonder if your Duke husband compared your “down-theres” to an open chicken carcass. No? I’ll give you this one anyway. The expectation to have grace under intense pressure must have been excruciating. Having to keep calm and carry on and all that, yikes! I mean, I haven’t heard the details yet, but I’d be willing to wager that no one held up a piece of flesh from your nether regions and asked with complete seriousness, “where does this go?” I doubt they had to call in a surgeon to make your lady parts look like lady parts and not like something out of a horror film. But honestly, you win.
Really. Can you just stop already? I get it. It’s no contest. No, I didn’t have to make sure my make-up was just right. I didn’t have to push in a “royal” way. But did you turn to the nurse and say, “Oh great. I’m pooping. I can’t help it. I am. I’m pooping”? To which she responded, “No, honey, that’s the baby.” Oh, you’re too refined for that. I bet you’re too refined for your nurse to suggest nipple stimulation to get your contractions going then, huh? Oh, well, you’d never admit it.
Just give it a rest, will you? I said, you win.
P.S. I’m in a really great mom’s group if you’re interested.