My mother gave birth to five children but it wasn’t until I fell pregnant that she started sharing her birth secrets with me.
“Mum, is the pain of labour like getting slamming your finger in a car door?” I asked.
“More like closing the boot on your arm,” my mother said.
My young mum said it would be like a marathon. I’d have to “go with it” and not fight the contractions.
My mother flew to London a few days before I gave birth. Image supplied.
She was the perfect doula through a 27-hour labour, but she gave me no warning of what was at the end of the marathon.
My mum belly laughed when I told her I'd packed G-strings and skinny jeans in my hospital bag.
I had no idea my body would be so fragile after having a baby.
The next day, Mum went out and bought me some brand new Bridget Jones granny undies. The high-waist control briefs tightly pressed against my lost tummy.
"Your body still thinks it's pregnant, these will help you stand up straight," she said.
My centre of gravity had just shifted - metaphorically and physically.
It hurt to pee and I could barely sit down.
When I was sent home with my beautiful one-day-old baby, I was so high on new baby love and so clueless about what was "normal" healing for a new mother.
"When I had you Rachel, my legs were bruised all the way down to my knees," she said.
"Half my body looked like it'd been in a car accident," she added.
The cone of silence had finally been lifted. I was now in the after-birth club.
I asked my grandmother, who has seven children, why we aren't told the truth about birth.