01 March 2007

A Labourious Point

I realised today that there’s a question I don’t like being asked because, short of lying, there’s no good answer. The question in question is, “Do you want any more?”.

For information purposes, my answer will always be yes to the following:

· Chocolate
· Tea
· Sleep
· Money

However, when asked this at a Mother and Toddler Group, the only thing they’re interested in is your stance on reproduction. Before answering, bear in mind this enquiry is loaded, as most questions relating to motherhood are.

Just for the record, my most hated question from my pregnancy days was, “Was it planned?” I’m not one to shy away from matters of a personal nature but you have to ask yourself why they want to know.

“Yes it was” – tick for the ‘they kept that quiet’ box.
“No, it wasn’t” – cross against the ‘impulsive minx’ box.

Anyway, as I stood discussing my thoughts on family planning with a complete stranger, I considered potential responses. I could say “yes”, but that could technically be classed as lying. I could say a straight, “no” but usually a little expansion is considered polite or “I’m not sure because the Chickie extraction process has left me mentally disturbed”. The latter is the truth but you may as well say, “Hi, I’m Liz and I’m a little bit odd”. Something I prefer new acquaintances to find out on our second or third meeting.

The other problem with the truth is that, once you mention the word labour, it can be taken as an invitation for the dreaded ‘birthing story’. A topic I like to avoid with new people at all costs but something many are eager to divulge. And that’s exactly what happened today. A two dayer with minimal intervention and a natural delivery.

Not to brag, but my labour would have won the “Much Longer and Worse Than Yours” award forceps down. I know labour isn’t a competition but it can sometimes feel a bit “I see your epidural and I raise you an induction and emergency c-section”. I exited the conversation promptly, taking my story with me.

I do appreciate it’s a perfectly normal question, that I’ve asked others myself plenty of times but, being one to reflect a little too long and hard, I suddenly stopped to wonder why I ever asked it.

To my family and friends who have had to endure my obsessive and repetitive ramblings about my labour, I’m sorry. Thanks for listening and all your counselling and I’m resolving to move on x

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