As women, there seems to be two very separate types out there: the ones who have given birth and have all of the horror stories at their disposal, and the ones who haven’t who squirm at the very idea of a human being pushed out of their insides.
It’s almost as if any story associated with labour, however horrific it may seem, is forever followed with a promise that it’s all worth it.
Strange things that you accidentally push out that isn’t the baby? Sure. Pain levels circling the inconceivable? That’s what they say.
But at a glance at these confessions, on behalf of the camp who have yet to have given birth, we ain’t so sure…
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