I'm sharing this excerpt from Gold Pans and Iron Skillets in honor of Mother's Day.
Enjoy!
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!
Happy Running!
- Carol aka Running Granny Green
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