My husband has one of those jobs where he has seen some pretty grim things and he has seen humankind at its best so it was no surprise that he watched all of the birth happen. He found it fascinating. Let’s get one thing clear shitting yourself during the birth is part and parcel of some serious pushing but no one wants to do it…in fact, some of my friends have said it’s the one thing they didn’t want to happen. Well it happened to me…A LOT.

There were I think a good dozen pair of hands up my vagina within a 19 hour period..that and a couple of knitting needles, a suction head, a modern torture device known to most of us as forceps, a knife of some sort and lastly a very nice man (who I will secretly love forever) called James who got our baby out. 

After the birth came the morphine-induced attempts at going to the loo. These were only helped on my some sort of delicious syrup that I was eventually told I couldn’t have anymore of as I might never before able to poo unaided again. I sighed and gave it up.

Then there was the bleeding…which by the way no one talks about and can go on for weeks! Industrial size sanitary towels should come in nicer and more practical colours than white. Just saying. 

There was the nipple cracking and the blood and goo that came out of what were once objects to be adored. The milk became so prolific that I once missed Freddie’s mouth and sprayed a guy in Starbucks. He was wearing such a nice suit as well. Whoops.

Oh and then came the piles. Why in none of our planning your life with your baby books do they tell you about PILES. Sweet Zeus…I swear I had about forty… I probably just had one but that was enough to make going to the toilet bloody excruciating for months. And why is this relevant? Because I, like most of the human race, cannot see my own anus to administer pile cream. Yup… you guessed it…a job for the husband.

We’ve never been the same since. There is no shame…no embarrassment… no worry….no hiding. I talk to him about it all and often show him. Hair in places it is completely unacceptable for a woman to have in 2017…the inner workings of my smear test…what sex feels like…spots. You get the idea.

I walk around the house naked with all the extra stretchy wobbly bits hanging out with a hop skip and a jump in a way that leaves me feeling liberated every time. Partly this is because I birthed a human and my body rocks but it’s mainly because my husband has seen it all and I have nothing left to try and hide or be.

We still draw the line at farts…I mean..who wouldn’t?! But I can highly recommend going all in and letting it all be known. Like I said we’ve never been the same since… Thank goodness.

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