There Comes A Time...
...in every young blogger's life that they find a crossroads - a sudden stopping point. When they are running out of things to blog, or finding that they are suffering from burnout. Or they're hunting for a topic and coming up empty.
This blogger was reaching and reaching for something to write about today, and was coming up blank. Drafts that I have had sitting for MONTHS were not interesting me. I didn't want to cheat some of you with a meme, and I know I have stitching I could write about, or one rather interesting question someone asked in my comments when I was soliciting for ideas that I need to finish answering.
But no. The ideas all sit. And they wait for inspiration and interest to strike once again. That or desperation. And while I was waiting for desperation to take hold and spur me into putting something in place, I cruised the news. Entertainment news. Gossip news. And there it was - sitting on a golden platter just waiting for the taking. Whomping me right upside the head, and there's no way I could ignore it.
Britney's pregnancy. You know who I'm talking about - Mrs. K-Fed. She who will bear the next generation of Mickey Mouse Club members. However could I have overlooked this for so darn long? It's astounding, isn't it?
Well, Britney's in the news again. And no, I'm not talking about her lovely Malibu Barbie baby shower where some photographer got shot in the leg with a pellet gun. I don't condone that, by the way - the pellet gun. If you really want to make a statement to a paparazzi, you either aim a paintgun at his camera (and don't miss) or you use live ammo (on the camera, and don't miss). A pellet gun at the legs is just... well... very 3rd grade. I'm talking about her latest interview to Elle Magazine (as reported by USA Today, the Readers Digest of news reporting)
. Britney thinks having a child is mind-blowing. Sit down readers, I have to agree with her. Having a child is one of the most amazing experiences, and it defies words.
Here, however, is where our opinions diverge. *waves buh-bye to the Britney boat*
She wants to have a C-section. Not for convenience, not because of some medical necessity, not even because she's got something else important on the schedule. She wants to have the C-section so as to avoid the pain of childbirth.
That's right. She wants to avoid the pain. Close your mouths now, readers, before bugs take up residence around your teeth. She says her mother said giving birth was the most excruiating pain that she had ever been through, and she wants to avoid the pain.
Dearest Britney - there are drugs for the pain. And if anyone told you that C-sections are painless, they've sold you a bad bill of goods, because they must have neglected to mention the recovery period from the procedure. Yes, it's a surgical procedure. Or did you think that the baby just pops right out of your tummy through your belly button, and everything shrinks right back into place and you're instantly pretty again with a happy pretty baby, and a scar easily hidden by bikini underwear?
According to pregnancy.org, C-sections can be painful for up to 72 hours after birth, and you have some bigger risks of infections than you do if you deliver vaginally. Guess what? I was sore for roughly a day and a half and then I was fine. As soon as I started moving around, I was good. Not everyone reacts the same way, I understand, but to prefer major surgery over a natural occurance just boggles the mind. Oh, and don't forget - since you had a surgical incision, you'll have to be careful of that too, so no situps or crunches until that heals. And that could take two months. Or longer. You could have aches at that site for a few months (worst case).
I can understand C-sections when it's a medical *need*. I can understand it when labor has been prolonged and it's done for the health of the mother and the baby. I can even understand it when you schedule it before the end of a year for a tax break, or before the holidays because of family descending upon you or travel that absolutely *has* to occur for one reason or another. But to desire it as an alternative to pain is just plain stupid. Britney is 23 - just a year younger than I was 10 years ago when I had my oldest daughter, A. And while it seems so long ago, and I have matured (and with age comes wisdom, no matter what the teenagers say), I still know that I wasn't *that* stupid when I was that age.
Then again, this *is* an alleged Pop Princess we're talking about, and the love of her life who ran out on his pregnant girlfriend, mother of his *TWO* children to take up with a cash cow, er, I meant Britney. It must be true love, right? She changed him, right? He's gonna be a good daddy, right?
Yeah yeah, and if you believe that, I have oceanfront property in Utah to sell you.