Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Can I be born again? Relax, I’m not talking about religion. I’m talking bodily functions. It has come to my attention at recent dinner parties that friends of ours refuse to relieve themselves or even pass wind in front of their partners. Some of these friends have been with their partners for decades and still insist on visiting the lavatory at separate times. A few friends even divvy up the bathrooms in their own home for their own personal and private use on any given occasion. As far as any of these friends are concerned, their partners’ orifices are reserved for making love (an expression only these couples would use) and birthing babies – and the lights can be off in both instances.
Upon first learning of these strange and unusual practices, I thought, “How sad that these couples have not yet arrived to that place of ultimate closeness and intimacy where they feel completely comfortable with each others’ bodies and its functions.” But then, while Gabriella and I were reposing on our sofa after enjoying some Indian cuisine, I changed my mind. Gabriella and I have long ago arrived at that very place of extreme comfort, and I can honestly say that I think we have gone too far. When you’re with someone for a while, it becomes more and more difficult to keep the romance alive. Well let me tell you, there is just nothing titillating about the words, “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
Perhaps I’m too late after all those years of damage done to be reborn. It’s possible we know too much. It was during the birth of our first born that we crossed a line that can never be uncrossed. I’m not alluding to the standard mess a girl makes whilst pushing out a baby. I’m talking about an occurrence we hadn’t anticipated-one that was not discussed in our ante natal classes or in any birthing books. What Gabriella witnessed may have scarred her for life-forever preventing us from sewing up the proverbial hymen of bodily functions and delivering us to the kingdom of i-always-smell-good.
Ladies and gentlemen, what I’m about to share with you is not for the faint of heart, but it happened. I think every pregnant woman should know that it could happen to her, and I think anyone who’s planning to be at a birth should be prepared. 33 ½ hours of labour and 2 hours of pushing, and I had to get that sucker out of there. Once I realized that the only way to end the pain was to push as hard as I could, I pushed. And I pushed. I pushed my heart out. In fact, I pushed my ass out. That’s right ladies and gentleman, according to my dear partner who witnessed the entire event; I pushed so hard that I blew my anus inside out. “It sort of looked like a monkey’s butt,” she explained tenderly. Oh, dear Lord. Unlike my inflated anus, there’s no going back, is there?
If we had been a couple with Hers & Hers bathrooms, would she have shared that information with me? I knew something was going on back there, but maybe I wouldn’t have inquired had I been that kind of girl. Too late. It’s out there-so to speak. Yet I still want to be reborn. I want to keep my functions to myself and pray that the memories will fade in time. I want to rediscover the mystery and the romance. So, I’m reborn. My bodily functions are mine alone, and I pray that Gabriella joins me down this righteous path and that we are reborn together. Let us all pray.