“Honey, I think something’s off with my perineum!” I shout to my partner, Jake.
“Your what?” he replies, looking bewildered.
“My perineum! How on earth have you reached 39 without knowing this? It’s that area that’s neither the vagina nor the butt. Anyway, it’s bothering me—a bump is there, and it stings like crazy but I can’t see it!”
“Could it be a hemorrhoid?” he suggests. “Have you been straining?”
“Maybe. This little one is certainly causing some blockages down there. Would you even recognize a hemorrhoid if you saw one?”
“I might, but I’m not sure I want to learn what one looks like on you.”
I can’t blame him for hesitating to get up close and personal with my troubled perineum, considering he races to hold my hair back whenever morning sickness hits. That’s a whole different level of intimacy, and I often try to yell “get away!” but the retching drowns out my voice. Sweet yet revolting.
Anyway, Jake, after politely declining my request for a DIY medical examination, hands me a tube of Preparation H and leaves the room. Miraculously, the bump feels better right away, confirming his diagnosis and sparing me from the embarrassment of discussing it with my OB at the next appointment.
When I first met Jake five years ago in a dimly lit bar, never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be asking him about my pregnancy-related hemorrhoids. This is the reality of pregnancy—the mystery and allure have vanished. Privacy? Gone. I now find myself peeing with the door wide open. If I didn’t, we’d never finish a conversation!
And don’t even get me started on sneezing. I’m allergic to dust and equally allergic to cleaning, so you can imagine the chaos as I sneeze and pee throughout the house. I’ve become the poorly trained pup my partner never wanted.
Gas? Oh boy. I could power a small motorboat with the amount I’ve got right now. I could burp the alphabet backward. If you poked my belly with a pin (please don’t), I’d soar across the room like a cartoon balloon. The miracle of life, indeed, has its gross moments.
None of this, however, compares to the sheer panic of the delivery room. The thought of “Stay up by my head or you’ll be traumatized for life!” is enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine. Pooping on the table, crowning, episiotomies—you can’t unsee that!
There should be something like an emotional epidural for partners to help them forget the chaotic details of childbirth. Perhaps such a thing already exists, otherwise, no one would ever want to have more than one child! Thank goodness for science, right?
For more insights on navigating pregnancy and home insemination, you can check out the CDC’s excellent resource or explore ways to boost your fertility with our guide on fertility supplements. And if you’re interested in parenting exercises, visit Intracervical Insemination for expert advice.
In summary, the journey of pregnancy is filled with unexpected and often gross surprises. From perineum woes to the realities of bodily functions, it’s a wild ride that no one fully prepares for. Yet, through it all, the joy of bringing new life into the world remains the ultimate reward.