Long before I ever got pregnant I developed an intense fear of childbirth not just because of the pain (my fear for that is, of course, to be assumed) but because of the fact that I might make a poop on the delivery table.
This has been a fairly constant concern that has weighed on me for many years, despite not having been pregnant. I don’t see how Tom could ever see me the same way again once he sees me poop on a table. Well, poop ANYwhere, but especially on a table.
Long before I became pregnant, when Tom and I were just throwing the idea of kids around, I would take care to mention as casually and as often as possible, “You know, I may make a poop on the table.” My goal was to intersperse this thought into so many non-related topics that eventually my husband would become immune to the idea.Tom responded at first with all the proper, supportive things: It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Nothing you do could make me not love you. I will always find you attractive. Until, around the fiftieth or so mention of it, I finally broke him and he blurted, “Will you PLEASE stop reminding me!?”
I’ve often wondered why this isn’t a larger concern for every expectant mother. Why aren’t there bulletin boards devoted to this on babycenter.com or ivillage? Except for Anne Lamott’s “Operating Instructions,” (which is how I found out about this possibility- certainly none of my friends told me) I have yet to find one mention of it in any of the books that are otherwise not at all shy about discussing things like “cheesy substances” or a thing called a “mucus plug” - the definition of which I haven’t had the courage to learn. How is it that a woman will open up about the most indelicate details of the state of her vagina during delivery but will NEVER mention making a poop on the table, which I personally find the most horrifying detail of all?
Now I know the answer. And I’m not going to be a tight-wad about it. I’ll share it with you. Nobody made me take a vow of silence about pooping when I became pregnant, so I’m going to assume a mob of large, irate pregnant women aren’t going to come after me with torches for divulging this heretofor unshared secret.
The reason they don’t obsess about making a poop on the table is this: A pregnant woman is delighted to make a poop ANYwhere, at ANYtime, no matter WHAT else is going on. I would gladly squat in the middle of the dining room table if it would guarantee me a nice bowel movement.
My life has become, and will remain, revolved around pooping. Mine now (or rather the lack of it) and later the baby’s. I think pregnancy constipation is nature’s way of making you truly appreciate the passing of a healthy dump so that you won’t be quite so aggravated by having to change a diaper full of it several times a day. No, instead of being irritated, you will be delighted that your offspring has been saved the discomfort of a backed-up bowel.
Too much information? Well, I think I’m just saying what everybody has always thought. As my wise friend says, a good bowel movement can make anybody’s day, not just a pregnant person's. And lately my moods are determined, for days at a time, by when I made a poop.
Heed my words, oh yee lucky people who can poop whenever you want to! Do not take it for granted! Lock yourself in that lavatory with a good book for awhile! Proudly flip on that overhead fan! And poop! By all means, go forth and poop with pride!
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