Birth — Our Eviction Notice To Vacate Our Comfort Zone





Talk about having a comfort zone. The womb


Unfortunately, we can't remember how comforting that womb really was. We've heard; it was ever so comfortable that we didn't want to leave. We had as much food as we wanted, a lot more than we needed. Hell, we didn't even have to breathe, our mothers did that for us. For nine months, we never had it so good.


At first, we had plenty of room, until our stay was terminated and we got evicted, having outgrown our space and our mothers welcome and were forced to vacate through this small tunnel, which we must have thought was impossible. The doctors say it must have hurt but I can't remember. Actually, I don't remember feeling or seeing a thing but I must have been terrified. You must have been also. Your mother too.


The doctors assumed we didn't feel a thing since we didn't have fully developed senses at the time of birth. We had no emotions and no conscious awareness. We couldn't possibly feel pain, nor express ourselves or communicate in any way. It makes us wonder what was all the crying about. Were we trying to tell everyone that we were in pain and actually going through one of life's most traumatic experiences? Had they themselves not gone through such an experience? Where is the compassion? 


All we wanted was someone to turn down the lights. This was our first life experience and here the doctors have the lights up bright, shining right into our eyes. Didn't they realize we've come from a dark place? Then to add insult to injury they added a chemical to our eyes, it supposedly stung, oh, how we squinted. 


It was warm and quiet in the womb, all sounds were muffled, temperature was a constant 98 degrees. Suddenly, you could hear better than ever, with no protective liquid to muffle the sound and it was like thunder, almost deafening. The temperature dropped to a chilly 72 degrees, standard temperature for operating rooms plus you were all wet.


When our umbilical cords were severed, we were force to breathe on our own, a life or death situation. Luckily, we braved it, bared the pain and took our first breath, no doubt very traumatic. 


I don't remember being hung upside down, hanging from my ankles and being slapped on the bum. Nope I don't remember that at all. You would think a person would. After all, you were in the fetal position for nine months when you are suddenly stretched out upside down, hanging from your ankles then spanked. That was back in 1950, I believe it's no longer practised, thank heavens. It's no wonder I have back problems today, I blame it on the doctors.


All you wanted was to be left alone in your mother's arms, but no, what did the nurses do? They swept you away, crying and choking then dropping you off in a box, at the nursery, all alone. A weird place for a newborn.


Considering all this, we survived. Birth, the first traumatic experience we will ever have to go through. Death should be just as traumatic, and fortunately the last traumatic experience we will have to endure. 











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2 comments:

baroniatipu said...

Another great blog to jog ones memory...

Sheri Lowe said...

I like all the interesting shit you write. Intelligent and thought provoking, I feel pride that it all comes out of a fellow canadian's brain. Keep on keeping on!