MockMom SPM/MM

“Happy Mother’s Day,” Your Baby Says, Sarcastically

By Sarah Zimmerman of bigtroubleblog.com

Dear “Mom” (but are you even, really?),

I noticed that you didn’t hold back on the epidural. Guess we all make certain choices. Personally, I see the pains of labor as beautiful and natural.

I can’t help but wonder why anyone would want to deny herself the full celebration of bringing a baby into the world. Contractions are like tiny pelvic fireworks! Boom! Boom!

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Apparently SOME people see them as a nuisance and are just trying to wrap the whole thing up before The Bachelor begins. I’m not here to judge.

Let’s talk about your “birth plan.” Did you reference even one birthing Pinterest board? Where was the soothing mood music? Where was the birthing ball? Where were my essential oils? WHERE WAS MY YLANG-YLANG, MAMA?

You know what was in your birthing bag? Beef jerky and People magazine. I can’t even look at you, and it’s not because my eyes are all goopy.

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Obviously, we’re both safely on the other side of this ordeal, but I’m just wondering if you should have sweat the small stuff more? BECAUSE I AM THE SMALL STUFF, MOTHER.

There you were, bantering through contractions with the nurses, all pain-free and having a gay ol’ time, while my skull was being chiseled to a point trying to fit through your lady tunnel. By the way, gross.

You hollered a little when I finally forced myself out, but not once did you bite on a bullet or leather strap, so I’m not buying it. Also, Grandma said that she had all of her births while standing up, making dinner for the rest of the family, in heels. I guess they don’t make women like they used to, huh?

Quick question: Did you even train for this? Did you do the recommended prenatal yoga and daily 3-mile walks? I find it interesting how much power walking felt like you sitting on the couch, farting into maternity pants.

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What about the coconut oil perineal massage you were supposed to be doing every day to ensure my nice, easy exit? Right. That would have required you to put down your Oreos long enough to give yourself a reach-around. I know, it’s hard. It is.

BUT, sometimes I wonder if you understood that at the end of this pregnancy, you’d end up with a baby? You can be honest.

Was getting knocked up just a way to justify eating fish filets every day for 9 months? Hello…mercury. If I’m bad at 4th grade math, we’ll know why. Kidding! Come on.

Seriously, though, you must have known that that sodium = cankles. I see those frosted hams you stuffed into your hospital slippers. Pink toenail polish? As if that would help?

I can’t believe you made some poor woman give you a pedicure this week. You should buy her a car or something. That’s just cruel.

It’s a good thing that the labor and delivery nurse was there during the whole thing, to save you from yourself. She seemed nice and competent. Maybe she’ll raise me.

I am curious if this is the kind of half-assed effort I can expect from childhood, too? I guess I’ll have to get used to crusts on my sandwiches and store-bought Halloween costumes. You’re probably going to try to shoot me up with untested mystery poison to “prevent polio,” too, aren’t you?

I notice that all the parenting books you bought still have that new book smell to them. Very new. Very smelly. So you’re just planning to wing it then? Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine. NBD.

What are you doing now? Stop it! You think you can swaddle me and I’ll shut up? (yawn) Oh, it’s kind of working. Just one more thing! Tell me what you did with my placenta! PLEASE tell me that you respectfully ate it and didn’t let them discard it like it was garbage.

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It was my only friend for almost a year. It was my ‘Wilson.’ In this scenario, I’m Tom Hanks in ‘Castaway.’ Was that clear? Why is that movie so good? (yawn)

Literally nothing happens. (yawn) Hanks did lose an impressive amount of weight, and got really tan. He looked like a brown Whippet. (yawn)

What? Who? What’s happening? I’m feeling a little drowsy. You tied me up and shoved a nipple at me! Unfair! All right, woman, you win this round, but don’t think we’re done discussing this. (yawn) Tom Hanks is a national treasure.

*****

About the Author

Sarah Zimmerman is a full-time half-ass mother, writer, Physician Assistant in Women’s Health, and co-owner of a vegan ice cream business. Find her other work on Ravishly, mom.me, Together Guide, Pregnant Chicken, Mommyish, The Belladonna Comedy, Robot Butt, The Haven, and more. Blog: bigtroubleblog.com, Twitter: @sarahzimzam