I'm sharing this excerpt from Gold Pans and Iron Skillets in honor of Mother's Day.
Let the Games Begin
One would believe if one listened to women, that childbirth is a competitive sport! Birthing events range from sprint to marathon and weight lifting to gymnastics. Medals and awards come in the form of bragging rights for the duration of a mother's natural life. No sport has ever been, or ever will be sensationalized as is childbirth when a group of mothers gather together. Medals are worn with honor at all family gatherings, social events, and religious functions. Nary a phone-call occurs between two mothers without reference to and often play-by-play recall of a birthing event. The beauty of the sport lies in that all event participants are winners. No birthing experience can be overshadowed by the next, nor is it insignificant compared to those that have gone before. Each is unique displaying beauty and grace, endurance and pain all its own. It is the mothers that supply the competition! Let us examine the events:
The Birthing Sprint. The winner of this event delivered her babies in taxi cabs, motor homes, and hospital elevators. The sheer speed of her labor strikes fear, envy, and disbelief in the hearts of mothers entering into more controlled birthing events. Her bragging rights? It hurts to have a baby that fast!
The Birthing Marathon. This mother's labor lasted longer than Van Winkle's nap! Her recounting has an underlying attitude of "Wimp!" towards birthing sprinters. Anyone can hold out for three hours. Three days? Just try that!
The Birthing Weight Lifter. You guessed it, her baby outweighed her suitcase. The strength it required to carry that child for nine months is medal worthy. Deliver a baby that size and even men will grimace in pain.
The Tri-athlete. This competitive spirit delivered a baby, attended a baseball game, and baked a birthday cake for her two-year-old all in a twenty-four hour period. Giving birth is all in a day’s work.
The Gymnast. This mother delivers her babies with the aid of various apparatus, such as: in a hot tub, on a kitchen table, and to the rhythms of Tchaikovsky and Lennon. Variety is the key to her success.
Myself? I’m one who wears the marks of the competition with pride, much as an athlete sports a tattoo of his mascot or Olympic Rings. Grateful to have been invited to participate, I needed the help of a surgeon to complete the event. Even my aided delivery has its bragging rights.
Now, I don't mean to brag and I don't mean to boast,
But I have an incision that goes from Coast to Coast.
Hipbone to hipbone, that's the size for me.
The nurses all exclaimed, "Hey, that’s a big smilie!"
My personal favorite is the Creative Dance Participant. This mother was caught in a flood in Mozambique. She delivered her baby while taking refuge in a tree! Try to top that!
The beauty of childbirth competition is that each participant has an experience all her own. It matters not what the competition has done, her experience of sacrifice cements a bond between mother and child none can discount. A memory none can erase. She can't be disqualified or penalized. There is no such thing as a false start. Each emerges victorious. Imply that a mother had an ordinary birthing experience and she will launch a colorful recounting that will make the Boston Marathon sound like a walk in the park!
Happy Mother's Day to all the amazing moms out there!
Running Granny Green encourages women, especially grandmothers, to gain greater fitness by providing tips and inspiration to insure long years of joyful grand-parenting. The cookie recipes are a bonus!
- Carol aka Running Granny Green