Flotsam

I know Bitch, Phd already posted about this NY Times article, but I had quite the heated argument about it last night, and so I am going to dredge it up again. My reaction to the article (go on, read it, I’ll wait) was a potent blend of amusement and disgust (how often those two things seem to go together!)—I believe my eyes rolled so violently they may have become lodged deep in the recesses of my skull.
For those of you who were too lazy to follow the link above, I will summarize:

Childbirth is very, very tramautic.
For men.
(By, New York Times Reporter)
Men may have trouble finding their partners attractive after seeing their nether regions stretched to accommodate the tiny human they helped create. Also, there may be blood and other unattractiveness that adversely affects a man’s desire to stick his penis where he was in such a hurry to stick it before. Not only is viewing childbirth unpleasant for many men, it may also rise to the level of (cue violins, please) Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Men are unfairly pressured into being present in the delivery room nowadays, because of Hippies. (See the tiny tear forming in the corner of my eye?) Women, please consider that if you insist upon having the baby’s father present for delivery, he may never, ever again think you are pretty or want to touch you In That Way.

(Is anyone else hearing Old Blue Eyes singing a modified version of “Wives and Lovers”?
Hey, little girl, comb your hair, fix your make-up,
soon he will open the door,
Don’t think because
there’s a ring on your finger,
you needn’t try any more.
For wives should always be lovers too,
Try not to bleed when a child pops out of you!
I’m warning you…
Day after day, there are girls at the office,
and men will always be men,
Don’t let him see
something burst through your cervix,
You may not see him again…)

My position, in brief, was that Such Men Are Babies (well, actually, I think I may have used a stonger word, a euphemism for cunt, shall we say) and should Suck It Up.
The response I got from the person to whom I voiced my position was that I was being insensitive and naïve. Also that I was reinforcing an antiquated Standard of Manhood by calling men who were unable to handle the spectacle of childbirth “weak” (to which I promptly replied that I would be just as annoyed by a lesbian who was unable to find her partner attractive after watching her give birth).

My response to being disagreed with was to wish passionately I had a Code of Federal Regulations (Annotated!) to throw at the disagreeing party, volume by heavy volume. But I did not, and so was reduced to responding to said person’s arguments with Reason.

1. As far as being insensitive—I do not dispute the validity of being alarmed by seeing your partner during childbirth. Seeing the woman you love smeared with blood and excrement and screaming as she is nearly split in two is shaking, I am certain, and it is natural that both parties feel a reluctance to resume sexual activity afterwards. However, I feel that men who are completely unable to find their partners attractive after such an experience demonstrate a discomfort with complexity that I cannot help but find worthy of scorn.

2. The assertion that I was being Naïve went along the lines of: One cannot help who one is attracted to, or as the case may be, Not–attraction is a mysterious thing, and is not rational. It would be Naïve to suggest that someone was “weak” because of a response they cannot control.
To which I can only respond that some men are solely attracted to stupid women, or tiny blond whispery-voiced women–surely they cannot “control” this, as such, but I believe that these things are indicative of insecurity and/or a problem with smart complex partners. It isn’t “rational,” exactly, in that it isn’t conscious, but there is a reason for it, and I think this reason speaks volumes about the emotional maturity of the person. I am merely saying I would have difficulty respecting a man like this, not because he doesn’t meet my standards of “manhood” but because he doesn’t meet my standards of adulthood.

****
On another subject entirely, The Nearly Fiance and I have been spending a lot of time discussing when to have children (i.e. pay for IUI w/ovulation induction and hope I don’t miscarry again) and it has been decided that I will go back to school, in order to pursue the elusive M.F.A.
Unless next month’s Laparoscopy shows something hitherto unexpected, i.e. tiny snails crawling through my uterus filling it with embryo-toxic ooze, I will concentrate upon getting my endometriosis back under control so that I do not greet each cycle with cries of pain and wild thoughts of performing a self-hysterectomy. I will have some tests done in the ensuing months regarding my anovulation. And we will put off trying to conceive for some amount of time longer than a year. The Nearly Fiance has been so supportive of this plan, and so tolerant of my own wildly ambivalent feelings towards it (Hooray! I can go back to school and stop worrying about dead babies! Oh No! I want to be pregnant right this instant!) that I just had to post something commending him for being Nearly Perfect. I am a lucky, grateful girl.