Euphoric Recall & Cervical Pride

A friend was over the other night & was talking to me about "euphoric recall" when we have romanticized remembrances of what was actually difficult, painful or traumatic.

"I think I know what you're talking about" I told her. "Like the other day when I told Scully I was actually looking forward to the birth."

Um, YES. Euphoric recall, much?

In truth I kind of am looking forward to it. I quite like our doctor and she hasn't made any references to wanting to cut me. I also like thinking about the fact that I have an idea of what was previously unimaginable to me. I think about using a mirror this time so I could see what was going on (maybe not. maybe? maybe not.)

I think about watching my mom and my sister Kirsten's face when I was crowning and Khubz's face appeared in the world for the first time. I wonder who will be at the birth this time? Will the weather be clear on I-35?

I think about being anxious to get to the hospital so that something would happen and being sent home three separate times. And this time, will I have a better idea of what is happening and when to go? Will I be able to tell? Will I feel more easy being home longer without any monitors or machines?

I think about being at the hospital with the petocin taking over my body and how I turned my head to the side to make eye contact with Scully for one last time before I died.

Okay, so it's not all euphoric recall.

Really, I don't think of myself as physically accomplished in any way (except that I actually have amazing upper body strength--no one ever believes me! I chalk this up to assumptions about fat women and femmes. . .grrrr) but I do sort of marvel at the accomplishment of my cervix dilating to 10 centimeters.

Please don't mishear me. I'm not making any comparisons between my experience and any other woman's birth experience or choices. But simply for myself and in thinking about my own body, it is nice to feel proud of my cervix.