Sunday, October 16, 2011

Birth Stories

I have just been traumatized by hearing yet another birth story from a woman in her seventies.  All the ones in my vicinity feel the need to share about giving birth in the fifties and sixties.  Oy!  I barely know you people!  We make polite conversation about the weather, and then this?  (Though tonight, the husband said "And he was nine pounds, six ounces!"  The wife:  "Nine pounds, SEVEN ounces!  And I still remember all the havoc he wreaked on my parts!"  Me: "...ow.")

It reminds me of Dr. S's female relatives telling me about all their reproductive difficulties at our second wedding reception.  Look, I am all for shining a light on the facts of life, but I had met them all, for the very first time ever, not five minutes previously


  1. uh, isn't the point of the twilight era that they didn't remember the birth stories? i call bullshit on that couple. they probably travel the country pranking pregnant ladies.

  2. Well, they're our neighbors. :) The husband was describing his memories from in the waiting room, and I'm not sure how much the wife remembered of the actual hospital visit, but the going-out-to-dinner before, sure.

  3. Just you wait--when you're 70 you'll feel this insane urge to do it to others.


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