Rebirth is a term people seem to like.

Rebirth! A new phase, new beginning, big change, unleashing a new version, out with the old in with the new, etc etc and okay, cool. Powerful metaphor, very procreative.

But like, birth is messy and bloody and painful.

It is really messy. And really painful.

And it takes a long time. Such a long time. Hours that feel like years.

Sometimes during birth, part of your body will literally rip. Body parts ripping. Ponder that.

And you’ve gotta push and keep pushing and not stop pushing while your body is racked by intense involuntary muscular contractions.

Got anything in your colon? It’s coming out.

Keep going until you push another human being out of yourself.

Oh and then! You’re not quite done! Because you also have to push out an entire organ you made. It’s inside your body, as organs should be, but you’re done with it now. It’s gotta come out too.

Then for several days after this process you’re going to bleed and waddle around wearing an adult diaper and peeing is going to be the scariest thing you’ve ever done and also your boobs are going to hurt and get real weird.

Your body is dramatically altered by this process. Sometimes you recover with minimal negative effects. But I could tell you, off the top of my head, at least 5 women I know personally whose bodies were irrevocably deeply negatively altered. Not by pregnancy (its own thing) but by the process of birth.

But yeah, cool. Rebirth!