Omerta
Poop and Boogies | May 1Thanks to the Blogfathers for giving me this opportunity. Hopefully I don’t mess it up.
There is some type of code of silence from men that have been in a birthing room towards men that have not. I have 7 brothers (with the exception of one) who all have had kids before me. I have many close friends who have had kids before I did. At each hospital visit for a new niece or nephew not one of them ever gave me the low down on the whole birthing experience from a guys point of view. Maybe it was due to the excitement of having a child, maybe from the shock and awe of the actual experience or maybe they were just uncomfortable discussing details.
I went into the whole birthing thing a little blind and naïve to what to expect.
I love the fact that two years ago my wife gave birth to my son Maxfield. I loved being there for my wife as well as being there for the first moments of my son’s life. I am looking forward to it again in June when we are due to have our second son. I admit I am a little squeamish but don’t let anyone fool you birthing is not a pretty sight. There is pain (sure it is the woman who has the pain but it is hard to watch). There is blood. There are needles and machines. There is pushing and sweating. There are doctors and nurses. There is blood and other gross things. Like I said it is not a pretty sight. Sure, I watched the birthing movies but there is no way that can really prepare a person. That’s like saying since I watched Apollo 13 I know what to do the next time I am on a rocket and there seems to be a problem. Again, it is not a pretty sight.
But after a person actually goes through the birthing process you join some kind of club. You get your button so to speak. You get made. You did some work. It is at this point that anyone who ever went through being in a room while a woman gives birth, can then divulge all the nasty details of their experience. Not just brothers and close friends but anyone. Acquaintances that I may have met once, or maybe my wife’s friend’s husband who I only met at their wedding suddenly feel it is okay to say words like Mucus Plug, Episiotomies or Afterbirth in a conversation with me.
There is also the a select few who discuss their significant other’s utmost private parts with me when they tell me all about the dilation and effacing and stitches and, and, and well you get it. (Maybe you don’t because you are not a member of the club and some of these words are foreign to you).
Anyway, I am not sure what the club is called but it must be like the mafia. You only find out the gory details once you are in the club. And after going through the birthing process I kind of understand. Certain things are better left unsaid to the unsuspecting. So, there is “Omerta”, the mafia code of silence. The word “Omerta” can actually sound gross too, but not as bad as mucus plug.
This is so unlike women… we have no problems unloading our horror stories on expectant mothers, newlyweds, teenage girls… I guess we figure that forewarned is fore-armed!
Yeah, chicks like to scare the daylights out of the new pledges…. we regale them with horror stories of 72 hour labors and 4th degree tears from HERE to THERE (yes, there!)
My husband is so cute in the delivery room… he’s like an 11 year old boy. “Oh, COOL. OH MY GOD - he just CUT you, did you feel that? Damn, the blood is everywhere. So THAT’S what a placenta looks like, COOL.” hahaha It was that sort of cuteness that saved his life when he uttered the words “Oh, come on - it’s not that bad. I’ve been through worse.”
Mucus plug is pretty gross, though. I’ll give ya that.
The lowdown from a young dad about the code of silence.
I think it has to do with the wife/mom. Lets say I just had a baby and I came out of the delivery room. And I see a lineup of men waiting for me as I come out. I see a guy who has never gone through what I just went through. The first thing that pops in my mind is “what is okay and not okay to tell you”. What are the subjects and instances that my wife will never forgive me if she found out you knew. I run down all the things that are okay to say. Get plenty of rest. Eat, even if your baby’s mama can’t. Wear comfortable clothes. The truth is it is the mom who is calling the shots and I haven’t had time since she delivered to discuss the topics open for conversation. Even if you discuss this before the whole occasion, the first person experience of the event changes everything.
So the next question is why is it easy to talk to those who already went through the whole ordeal. Well its because they already have an idea of what happened it’s now just a matter of correcting in their mind what actually happened. Fortunately (unfortunate for the ignorant) I don’t have to explain everything. I can make a look, and someone who knows, already knows what I am talking about. I can say a word and they understand. I haven’t explained anything they don’t already understand and I haven’t broken the code.
I actually think so much of being a father is like this. Partly, I think it is due to the gulf of understanding, the Grand Canyon of experience, that separates those who have children and those who don’t. But I think it is also in the nature of men to share less than to share more, to try and go it alone. It is one of the reasons I so enjoy blogs - especially father blogs. It gives expecting fathers and fathers with younger children a chance to see what the future might hold, what they might expect and even some ideas for how to deal with it.
I agree with “bad andy” — I think it’s less about keeping things from other guys than respecting the privacy of the mother. It took my wife and I close to two years to conceive, and we were scared shitless throughout the pregnancy that something would go wrong, up to and including the actual delivery. Early on, with others seemingly conceiving with their first impure thought, we decided that the birth of our child would be *our* experience, not something that we would widely publicize to friends and family. In the end, the only people who knew we were in the birthing room were the neighbours looking after our dog and our doula — everyone else found out when it was all over and done with. This compares with my brother-in-law, who was phoning people the moment his wife’s water broke, like it was the opening play in the game.
Call it what you will, but I respect the privacy of the delivery process. Let’s recognize that it’s already as public as it can be when you get the delivery ward’s crash team hustling into the room for the final push like a football special team (we were shoulder displaced, and had to use the vacuum). Medical professionals might regale one another with war stories of difficult (or even routine) births, but that’s not something I’m all that willing to banter about with my buddies — even the ones who have been through it, and can actually relate.
Even if it weren’t for the agreement my wife and I have about the privacy of our own birth story, I don’t think I’d offer much to a new dad heading in for the first time. As with the delivery stories between women, the simple fact is that every birth is different — while there are common stages, the experience of each couple is unique to them, and I wouldn’t want to pre-condition someone to expect “A” when C, Q, or Z could happen.
So, my advice to the “soon to be” dads would be simple: pay attention to your partner (she needs you now more than ever), keep your eyes and ears open to what’s going on in the room (you’re the historian of the event, so you’d better know what went on, and when), and just let it happen — it will be one of the most magical periods in your life.