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A Waste Of A Tree Part 2
Aug. 6th, 2007 01:37 pmI have a challenge for you! Try to find a single element in this article http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/femail/article.html?in_article_id=472573&in_page_id=1879 that isn't wholly self centred, childish, and, while claiming to uphold the 'traditional' role of the pub bound father during birth isn't actually a sad example of our current obsession with sex.
Who the Hell when considering the birth of their own child, a painful, stressful, exhausting, and, in my experience sometimes very frightening experience for the mother, and worries about their own boredom, or squeamishness, or that seeing the 'business end' might put them off sex?
Ahhh, diddums. He's worried he'll see his baby's head ripping his wife's vagina and it might put him off the sex. The poor, poor poppet. I'm sure that *that* is the most important thing in the whole birthing experience. And nobody pays the man any attention at all, they all just talk to the mother, give the mother drugs, monitor the mother. Waaah. What about me? *Stampy feet*
Was I worried about appearing sexually attractive to my husband as I spent 6 hours in the second stage of giving birth to my daughter? No. Would I have wanted anybody with me but him? Absolutely not. Was I glad to have him there (when the midwives finally discovered I wasn't overacting and was actually in Labour and let him come back?) Totally. Would I have really wanted him there throughout for his support, and wish he hadn't been sent home for the 5 hours that I was without him? Absolutely. Did the experience 'put him off sex'? According to him, it made him even more proud of me, and even more attracted to me than before. Has it ruined our marriage as one Mailette poster suggested it did (apparently the upturn in divorce figures are all down to modern Midwifery)? Don't make me laugh. A little bit of blood can't ruin a marriage that isn't already fucked.
Real men can change nappies and mop up sick as easily as they can catch spiders and get things off high shelves. Real men know where the Milton is. And most importantly, Real men have the cojones to see the pregnancy that they started through to the end. Thankfully I've married a real man. I'm eternally grateful that I have.
Who the Hell when considering the birth of their own child, a painful, stressful, exhausting, and, in my experience sometimes very frightening experience for the mother, and worries about their own boredom, or squeamishness, or that seeing the 'business end' might put them off sex?
Ahhh, diddums. He's worried he'll see his baby's head ripping his wife's vagina and it might put him off the sex. The poor, poor poppet. I'm sure that *that* is the most important thing in the whole birthing experience. And nobody pays the man any attention at all, they all just talk to the mother, give the mother drugs, monitor the mother. Waaah. What about me? *Stampy feet*
Was I worried about appearing sexually attractive to my husband as I spent 6 hours in the second stage of giving birth to my daughter? No. Would I have wanted anybody with me but him? Absolutely not. Was I glad to have him there (when the midwives finally discovered I wasn't overacting and was actually in Labour and let him come back?) Totally. Would I have really wanted him there throughout for his support, and wish he hadn't been sent home for the 5 hours that I was without him? Absolutely. Did the experience 'put him off sex'? According to him, it made him even more proud of me, and even more attracted to me than before. Has it ruined our marriage as one Mailette poster suggested it did (apparently the upturn in divorce figures are all down to modern Midwifery)? Don't make me laugh. A little bit of blood can't ruin a marriage that isn't already fucked.
Real men can change nappies and mop up sick as easily as they can catch spiders and get things off high shelves. Real men know where the Milton is. And most importantly, Real men have the cojones to see the pregnancy that they started through to the end. Thankfully I've married a real man. I'm eternally grateful that I have.
