Our Biggest Sale of the Year is Here!🎄 ➔

Basic rule of thumb: Never google childbirth if you are pregnant. I made that mistake when I was nine months along. There’s so much blood, and grunting, and bodily fluid, and panting. And to put the icing on the cake, your husband has a front row ticket to the show.

Before I delivered our baby, I remember being consumed with that idea- my husband is going to stand beside me while my hoo-ha is wide open, birthing a human. The same husband who pretends his wife (me) never poops. Please God, keep me from pooping on myself in front of my husband during childbirth; it would surely spoil his image of me forever. Amen.

We set ground rules to be followed during my delivery: 1) if the nurse brings in a mirror, immediately walk her back to the door 2) the husband stays north of the wall (sheet) at all times. Turns out there was no poo, or mirrors, or natural childbirth for that matter. But my husband wasn’t spared from many of the other horrors that accompany baby-having. He held my hand through my first and second blood transfusions after my delivery. He helped me take care of my incision during the days I couldn’t bend down to do it myself. And he watched me nurse our child until my nips were virtually open wounds.

Those days were scary, and pretty gross, but I knew I hadn’t scared him away.

We were partners, for better or for worse. This moment was both the for better and the for worse. I had delivered our first baby (for better). Both the baby and I were wearing diapers (for worse). And my husband was there to help us both through.

I remember the Saturday after I gave birth so vividly. I was dying for a shower, but I could barely walk three baby steps without getting dizzy, or crying in pain from my incision. My husband sweetly offered to help me get in the shower. Standing in the bathroom, he untied me out of the dingy hospital gown I had been sporting for what felt like weeks. I was anxious to wash the hospital stench off of my hair and skin. The thought of washing away the wretched stench of a hospital bed made me giddy as I stepped into the steam.

Immediately my body relaxed.

The water trickled down my back and slowly down my front, until it hit my mid-section. The stinging took my breath away. My pelvis was on fire as the water fell to my feet. I tried to hold in the tears, but they busted out. I heard my husband shuffling around outside the shower. Suddenly, he yanked the curtain to the side. I expected him to ask if I was OK, but instead I watched as he frantically stripped off his jeans and hopped in the shower right beside me. He put his arms around my naked, bloody body and held me while I laughed and cried.

This was real life.

And the pre-baby me would have been mortified at the thought of it. But it was beautiful in it’s imperfection.

There’s something to be said about a relationship that’s been through the trenches. It’s an unspoken bond that connects you after it’s over. You graduate, in a sense. After the birth of our first child, my husband and I graduated from marriage kindergarten to marriage primary school. In marriage primary school, there is less fear of embarrassment and more unconditional love. I like marriage primary school.

Not that this new stage of marriage doesn’t bring its own set of challenges, like learning to share responsibilities and survive long road trips with screaming toddlers. And just to be real, there’s so much damn poo. But so far, marriage primary school seems more forgiving. And real. And comfortable. We know each other inside out, and while that can be scary, it’s a relief. We aren’t always nice to each other- parenthood is nothing if it isn’t trying on your nerves. But, the touches are more genuine, and the memories are even better.

There’s nothing like loving a man who helped you bring a child into the world. He’s seen me at my worst, and loves me more. What a refreshing thought.

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Emily Music

Emily Music is an attorney turned stay at home momma living in Southern Ohio. She is the mother of a curly-headed toddler named Meredith, and wife to her Kentucky basketball enthusiast husband, Sean. Emily's passions include writing for her blog at http://www.notyourbasicmom.com/, and traveling the country with her family. She gets by with a little help from her friends (and coffee).

Welcome to Periods in Your 30s and 40s

In: Health, Humor
Welcome to Periods in Your 30s and 40s www.herviewfromhome.com

Do you remember that day in the fifth grade when the boys and girls were separated for the “Sexuality and Development” talk? Some nice old lady health teacher came into your room and gave you some straight talk about how the next few years were going to go for you. It was awkward and shocking and you knew your childhood would never be the same. When you hit your mid-thirties, there should be some kind of Part Two to that conversation. All the ladies need to be rounded up, lead into a dimly lit classroom that smells vaguely of pencil...

Keep Reading

How to Stay Married For (at Least) 10 Years

In: Humor, Relationships
How to Stay Married For (at Least) 10 years www.herviewfromhome.com

In July, my husband and I celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary. We got married back in 2008 following my college graduation. I was only 22 at the time and him? Well, he was all good-looking at the prime age of 30. There were may vocal skeptics who chimed in, unasked of course, to share with us their belief that we would “never last” and that it would “never work”. To them, I say, “You were wrong! Na-na, na-na, boo-boo!” Just kidding, of course; I don’t talk like that. I am a respectable mother, not a four-year-old child and thank goodness...

Keep Reading

How to Put Your Children to Bed in 46 Easy Steps

In: Humor, Kids
How to Put Your Children to Bed in 46 Easy Steps www.herviewfromhome.com

It was time. It had to happen. We’d had a good run at pouring our children into bed at 11:30 p.m., sweaty, sticky, and exhausted from their head to their toes.  But bedtime had to get back to its (somewhat) regularly scheduled program.  When we had one kid, bedtime was a breeze.  Each night, we had a 10 step process. And the steps were simple. And very, very routine. 1. Toys away at 7:10 p.m. 2. Up the stairs at 7:15 p.m. 3. Change into pajamas 4. Brush teeth 5. Read two books 6. Say prayers 7. Light off 8....

Keep Reading

Welcome to the Dreaded Man Cold Season

In: Health, Humor
Welcome to the Dreaded Man Cold Season www.herviewfromhome.com

Your husband has a mere headache, but he automatically now believes that he is going to be a chronic sufferer of cluster migraines. Or, maybe he got a small splinter, but he now believes that he is, without probability, going to end up with a staph infection. And, well, that cough of his (cough, cough) is going to have him laid up in bed for the next two days because he is just feeling so terrible. Sound familiar? It is all too familiar to me. What am I talking about? How men are babies when they get sick. Yes, I said it. I...

Keep Reading

Wanted: Imperfect Friends

In: Humor, Relationships
Wanted: Imperfect Friends www.herviewfromhome.com

Is anyone else as sick of the facade as I am?  Because on social media, everyone seems to have their crap together. But I sure don’t.  Scrolling through my feeds leaves me feeling inadequate and lonely, desperately lonely.  I know social media is only the high points. I know there is always more going on behind the scenes that I don’t know about. But at the end of the day, I just feel like there’s no one who would want to be friends with little, imperfect, insignificant, me.  So, I’m placing an ad.  Wanted: Imperfect Friends A kind, but quirky,...

Keep Reading

51 Reasons a Mom Might Be Late

In: Humor, Motherhood
51 Reasons a Mom Might Be Late www.herviewfromhome.com

I’ve got a question for all you moms out there: Have you ever been late? Yeah, me neither. Just kidding! We’ve all been there. We have an appointment, a meeting, an event, or just a playdate, and we want to be on time. In fact, it often looks and feels like we’re going to be on time. We’ve planned ahead. We have everything in order, and we are ready to head out the door. But then, without fail, the inevitable happens. Actually, it seems that a good number of inevitables happen. And we’re running late, again. Being on time is...

Keep Reading

5 Ways Boy Moms Always Ruin Our Fun

In: Humor, Kids
5 Ways Boy Moms Always Ruin Our Fun www.herviewfromhome.com

We know Mom loves us, don’t worry about that . . . but sometimes it seems like she’s just making up a whole pile of rules to ruin our fun. For instance, we’ll be in the middle of a huge independent project and she’ll come along, usually shriek, and be like, “You can’t use water guns to fill up the bathtub! And why are you shooting water into the toilet? Ewwwwww.” And just like that, we have to pack it all up and return to a clean orderly activity. A controlled activity. A zero fun activity. We’re not even sure...

Keep Reading

Should Grandparents Get Paid to Babysit?

In: Humor, Journal
Should Grandparents Get Paid to Babysit? www.herviewfromhome.com

While swaying in side-by-side hammocks, my daughter paid me the ultimate compliment: “It gives me enormous peace of mind while I’m working, to know you’re watching my son and that he’s in the most capable hands.” Then 10 seconds later while I was still orbiting in happy mode, she insulted me by offering to PAY me for this glorious privilege. We engaged in a little tit for tat tug of war with no clear winner. And the debate rages on, at least in our household. How about yours? To pay or not to pay the loving grandparents who bless us...

Keep Reading

Kids Today Will Never Know the Joy of a 90s Summer

In: Humor

So you want a good old fashioned 90s summer, huh? I don’t blame you. The 90s rocked! (Literally, thanks to Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder.) I’m not going to lie—I take slight offense to the use of “old fashioned” and “90s” in the same sentence, as I’m pretty sure the 90s were like 10 years ago, but I’ll still help you out. If you’re really doing this though, you’ll need to ditch some of your modern conveniences, like your phone. I know, I know, but it’s a requirement. You may bring a beeper or clunky flip-phone, but no internet allowed...

Keep Reading

Dear Kids, This Is Not An Uber

In: Humor, Kids
Dear Kids, This Is Not An Uber www.herviewfromhome.com

Paid automotive transportation is pretty simple. You hop in the backseat of a cab, share the address where you are going and aren’t required to speak any longer until you arrive at your destination and pay the driver. The same primary rules apply to taking an Uber or Lyft.  The unwritten rules have been in place for some time. Your trade-off for taking paid transportation is a ride in the backseat, where you don’t have control over the music, the temperature of the car, the route the driver takes or how fast the trip takes, not even the amount of...

Keep Reading