The Miracle Of Birth

Of all the mystery and wonder
And beauty on this earth
Nothing can compare to
The miracle of birth
Well your cervix has been closed
And plugged with mucus
But soon that viscous plug
Will be discharged.

It's called ‘bloody show.'

And explosive diarrhea
Means that labor's drawing nearer
And those sharp painful contractions
Cause your cervix to enlarge.

Beautiful!

Then you race your ass
Over to the hospital
Where they'll strap you in
For the hell ride of your life.

It's what your body's made for.

You'll soon be in so much pain
That you'll probably exclaim
"Please just kill me now
Doctor, doula, or midwife!"

Tear, tear, tear
Goes your vagina!
Never will it be
Its cute little self again
But the good news is
If you have a few more kids
The rest will basically
Plop right out.

After hours and hours
Of utter torture
You may poop yourself and/or
Throw up as you bear down.

Cause you're a goddess!

And though you've never
Been this tired—Wait!
Here comes the ring of fire
That's your vagina bursting
Into flames as the head
Starts to crown.

Burn, burn, burn
Goes your vagina!
And you'll curse and scream
Until you hear a cry!

It's your baby!

And oops! There it went-a
That was the placenta
Which you must expel
Or you will surely die!

When it's all over they place
The baby on your breast
You may be happy for a moment
But then for months you'll be depressed
'Cause you've wrecked your life and body
You'll think "What's it really worth?"
All that for the miracle of birth!