Here’s a piece of advice for all mums (apologies in advance to all the fellas):
Never let your man complain to you.
Men get it so much easier than women. Obviously we’d never be stupid enough to admit that. Don’t be silly. We’d rather keep this little piece of information to ourselves which means that reading on will take us into unchartered territory!
There’s one very simple reason why… and it’s actually quite obvious.
MEN DON’T HAVE TO GIVE BIRTH!!!
I used to joke with my wife during pregnancy that she always used her ‘pregnancy card’ to get out of doing things.
“Babes, I’m feeling really tired, can you make lunch…”
“Babes, I’m feeling really achy can you unstack the dishwasher…”
“Babes, my feet are swollen can you do everything I ask you to do until further notice…”
You get the drift.
Post-pregnancy she sometimes throws in this old chestnut:
“You weren’t the one that had to give birth!”
It’s a bit annoying but I know she has a point.
Cos here’s the thing. No matter how many post-birth sleepless nights we might endure together, how many tantrums we might have to deal with in public places and how many times both of us just want to shut ourselves in a locked, soundproofed child-free room, there will always be one big difference.
Men don’t go through childbirth. Women do.
And it doesn’t look fun. I’ve tried to wipe the gory bits from my memory many times but it’s tricky. In the same way you’ll never forget the sight of Freddie Kruger after watching A Nightmare On Elm Street.
Some things you only want to witness once!
Because at no point during a pregnancy does a bloke feel jealous that he’s not getting the chance to go through it.
We happily tuck into sushi, devour unpasteurised ice-cream (you see, we were paying attention) and guzzle alcohol whilst poor old mum-to-be watches on enviously.
We never wake up in the morning wishing we’d had substantially less sleep and made three extra toilet visits during the night.
We don’t ever think ‘this looks like a barrel of laughs’ when our ladies steadily become the real-life version of the Fat Booth app. (My wife has given me permission to write that!)
To demonstrate, here is a mocked up version of me, as a pregnant man:
Thanks, but no thanks.
During the birth itself, as we twiddle our thumbs watching on, we don’t think it looks like something we’d like to have a crack at. Bloody hell, it’s brutal.
And post-birth, we don’t sit in the pub with our mates wishing we could chat about contractions, how many stitches we needed and how to get the excess milk out of our bigger-than-Katie-Price breasts. We just carry on as we always did, chatting about football.
I know some men say that they don’t get to experience the bond of carrying a baby like women do…
It’s utter bollocks!
We don’t really want to go through that.
Here’s the truth; you’ll never know how much admiration and respect your fella has for you after watching you go through child birth. We stare on helplessly, unable to make the pain better, just praying quietly that it all goes to plan. That’s the moment that every dad-to-be realises that he owes a lot to his lady. You’ve done all the hard graft.
Now, you can show this blog to your man and he might be furious that I would write such a thing. It’s a bit like telling your missus what happened on your mate’s stag do.
Not the done thing.
But you know all the times you say “well I was the one who gave birth” during one of those petty arguments about who is going to wash up the plates after the kids’ tea? You’ve got a bloody good point.
You know it. And so do we!
#lad2dadlesson This applies to ALL men. Unless you are Arnold Schwarzenegger in the film Junior.