~ from the movie Juno, 2007, Michael Cera, Ellen Page
I remember being borned. At least I vividly remember the slap. And I remember going, "Whoa, what the hell was that for? I'm out a single bloody second and I get a friggin' slap? For nothing?" I then asked to be put back inside.
But you can't go back. Nor can you just stand in the doorway and stick out a hand to see if it's raining or not and then decide to do the whole thing later. There is a sequence of science involved. Water has broke and dilation has occurred and that's that. There are muscles involved and behind them a screaming woman. Out you go. One just has to make the best of it. And I've been spending the intervening years taking that lesson to heart. No womb envy here. I was born to be borned. Bring on the pain.
Actually in retrospect I should have thanked the doc for that slap as it prepared me for the future. I grew up in the generation that still got spankings (This'll hurt me more than it will hurt you), got punched in the arm just to show it didn't hurt (Hit me harder, go on), got kicked in the shins by little girls with sharp pointy shoes (and cooties), and was even given the strap in public school (Don't tell mom). A friend of mine who got the strap regularly said if you plucked out some hairs and laid them across your palm before you got the strap they would cause the palms to bleed and you could sue the school board. But I didn't. I took it. Because that's what you did. You took your hits.
Don't get me wrong, life's not all one big slap in the fanny. From the moment you are born you find out there are things like breasts and ice cream and Foghorn Leghorn cartoons and you get better at ducking and running and you go, oh, okay, fair 'nuff. You go to school, make friends, sing stupid songs while sitting in a circle on the floor, learn how to conform and smoke cigarettes, spend some time in detention and they let you out in the world to sink or swim. You figure you'll be happy if you end up at the end of the day having more good things happen than bad.
It's a whole batch of mashed potatoes (with horns).
And ain't that the truth.