Locating the Nearest Exit

As we read up on the birthing process, and as my memory from nursing OB courses pulls up factoids that were scrawled across page after page of lecture notes, there is one thing I just don't completely understand. Oh, who am I kidding, there are about 86 things I don't understand about the birthing process. But here's one: the infants' journey down the birth canal.

I understand the mechanism of action of the contracting uterus to push the baby towards the great ourdoors. I understand that the baby takes a while to get there. In just about all of the literature you can read about this descent, it is described as traumatic and hard work for the baby.

Um, why? It's not like he's starting the trip up by my head. If my measurements are correct in a very loose estimate, he's got a matter of inches before finding the Grand Exit. I will likely have hours and hours of labor, most of which are spent moving the kid from somewhere near my bladder to my hoo-ha. I know he'll only be 6-8 pounds, but he's not small enough to take a wrong turn and get lost in there. He's pointing in the right direction, all he's gotta do is scootch a few inches.

Today, one little seven-year-old patient I see twice a week had asked his Dad why it was that I had to be gone for so long when the baby comes. "It doesn't take that long for him to get born, does it?"

Nope, it does not take 10-12 weeks for him to get born, though it just may feel like it for him. I mean, for me.