Envy isn’t an attractive quality in a mom—or in any human being.
I try to avoid it, and I catch myself when I’m jealously eyeing the way some random stranger fits into a pair of skinny jeans that look terrible on me, but it’s tough sometimes. In my non-mom-blogger alternate reality, I’m an actor, and as such, I have to remind myself that I’m not in competition with anyone but myself and that all I can do is my best. And hey, rejection is character-building, right? Yeah, right.
Truth be told, I’m a lot better at avoiding the proverbial green-eyed monster when it comes to parenting. I truly believe that each mom is entitled to her own opinion, her own process, her own happiness and her own worries, and I am certainly not in competition with anyone else when it comes to parenting my own kid. My son, my responsibility, my decisions—end of story.
I sound so zen and healthy, don’t I?
Well, that’s all about to go out the window, because I’m finding myself hating a total stranger right now—and a mom, at that. OK, fine, I don’t hate her, but I am super jealous. And you might join me in that jealousy in a second.
Have you heard about Mary Gorgens, the Australian woman who gave birth in TWO MINUTES? Yes, two freaking minutes, from beginning to end. It was her fifth baby, and apparently all of her deliveries have been fast—but not quite this fast. She didn’t even know that she was in labor at first because she felt a slight “twinge” and that was it.
While I am way too neurotic to want to give birth in my home, potentially by myself, or anywhere else without warning, we’re still talking two minutes, people. TWO MINUTES!
My labor, while not completely awful in comparison to some birth stories, was not pleasant: 12 hours of labor while I couldn’t speak—at all—because I’d had laryngitis for a solid month. And we’re talking the I-can’t-make-a-peep type of laryngitis. Included in that? Two full hours of pushing out a nearly 9-pound child that pretty much ruined me for months in ways that no one needs to hear about.
Still, I kept it in perspective. I’m nothing if not the Queen of Perspective these days. My son was healthy and beautiful and perfect, and that’s all that mattered, lady parts be damned.
But to hear about a two-minute labor and delivery—well, let’s just say that I felt another type of twinge. And I wasn’t terribly proud of it.