When first-time expectant moms learn about the very real possibility of having a bowel movement during a vaginal delivery, they're understandably anxious. I mean, no one wants to take a dump in front of complete strangers at a moment that is supposed to be magical and life-changing. Except for me. OK, so it's not like I hope it happens, but I'm not going to get all worked up about it because, honestly, I don't care if I poop on the table during delivery.
My daughter was delivered by the on-call obstetrician who had to take over for my midwife when fetal distress required a vacuum-assisted delivery. There were at least a dozen people in the room, including my husband, who stayed safely behind my shoulder during the "action." I honestly have no idea if I dropped a deuce or not. At that point, it didn't even cross my mind, and afterward? Well, I figured, if it happened, it happened, and I'm kind of glad I was none the wiser.
I'm due with my second baby in a few weeks, and my attitude regarding pooping on the table is best described as "devil may care." I don't fault soon-to-be moms who are worried about it, but I'm not personally planning to sweat it, and here's why: