Three surprising reasons I chose a homebirth

While I chose a homebirth for My Masterpiece because I believed so much in natural childbirth, by the time I was pregnant with Porcelain I had a few different reasons:

1. I’m a wimp.

No, really, I am. Planning an unmedicated birth and then going to a hospital is like — to me — being on Adkins and then going to a chocolate buffet. Most of my doula clients were hospital birthers, and those labor and delivery nurses like to push epidurals under the guise of sympathetic pain management. Every couple hours you hear: “Would you like something for your pain?” “How would you rate your pain, on a scale of one to ten?” Meanwhile, at home, my response of, YES, GOD, YES, and IT’S A SEVENTEEN might have gotten me a drop of Rescue Remedy. If My Chemical Romance could find it.

2. I’m lazy.

I don’t want to sit in the car while I’m labor. I don’t want to pack a bag. I don’t want to answer stupid questions by a triage receptionist about whether or not I have a car seat, or if I’m being abused. And most of all, I don’t want to clean up afterwards. After Porcelain’s birth, my midwife cleaned my toilet. I showered in my own shower and climbed into my own bed, and My Chemical Romance brought me a sandwich from McDeathald’s because it was Christmas and it was the only place that was open when he drove my mom to the airport.

3. I’m incredibly self-centered.

The idea of a STRANGER taking care of my baby and me on one of the five MOST SPECIAL DAY OF MY LIFE is absolutely unacceptable to me. Are you changing my sheets because you’re on shift and I happen to be there? No, ma’am, as they say here in the Carolinas. I will not be your “patient.” I only trust certain folks to see my va-jay-jay and although I may pay them, I also love them.


One Response

  1. I love this.

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