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To know Leslie Marinelli is to love her. When we are knee deep in diapers or face down in homework, Leslie reminds us that there is humor in everything…even poop. Meet Leslie Marinelli…

I guess I could argue that Italian sausage was what got me into that whole pregnant situation in the first place. Kind of befitting that it would also be what I remember most about my first labor and delivery twelve years ago.

I had just gotten home from work, and grocery shopping, and pumping my own gas that day, when SPLASH! My water broke all over the driveway.

We called my doctor and followed her instructions to get to the hospital right away. (They wanted to make sure I hadn’t just peed myself . . . as if I didn’t know the difference. Sha!)

Several hours of “Shouldn’t you buy me flowers first?” invasive exams later, we were sent back home to await my contractions.

That’s when the fun really began, because waiting for me at home were my 70-year-old Italian in-laws urging me to eat something . . . I would need my strength!

They were there to help because my husband had thrown out his back playing 36 straight holes of golf a few weeks earlier and was completely incapacitated.

(Oh, can you hear that? It’s the world’s smallest violin playing a rousing rendition of the “You ASSHOLE!” sonata in F sharp.)

Yeah, you know all those last minute tasks a pregnant lady needs help with, like installing the car seat, putting the crib together, reaching her shoes? None of those things got done at my house.

In fact, the day I was released from the hospital, my new baby, my labial icepack, and I had to sit on a bench outside for over half an hour while Mr. Back Spasm struggled with the car seat installation. Good times.

My in-laws were actually a Godsend, in spite of the fact that our little California bungalow was much too small for all of us. And by all of us, I mean four adults and the cloud of old man farts that were my father-in-law’s constant companion.

But Mom was extremely helpful around the house and kept us all very well fed. The night I went into labor, she cooked Italian sausage and peppers for dinner.

It was delicious. I ate two helpings.

Look, I didn’t know!

Life lesson: epidurals and Italian sausage and peppers do not good bedfellows make.

Unless, of course, you don’t mind your b-hole acting like a Play-DOH Fuzzy Pumper Barber Shop extruder while you’re pushing.

About 18 hours later, two nurses lifted my hips and changed the paper under me like I was a paraplegic puppy. I turned to my husband and croaked in my semi-conscious voice: “Oh my God, did I just poop?”

“Yes,” he answered with his mouth, his eyes closed tightly against the sight he would never be able to unsee. “Actually, you’ve been pooping for a while.”

Score one for the passive aggressive Italian MIL.

My healthy, albeit cone-headed baby boy emerged with the rest of my dinner shortly thereafter and nothing else really mattered.

My husband, surely exhausted from having to be on his feet and repeatedly remind me to breathe and relax so many times, went home and slept in his own bed and ate his mother’s home cooked breakfast the next day.

I figure having to watch me crap myself repeatedly in front of a room full of strangers was the least I could do to even the score.


Originally published by In The Powder Room, March 2012. Reprinted with permission.  

Leslie Marinelli is a writer, wife, mother of three, toilet humor aficionada, and transplanted Pittsburgher trapped in the suburbs of Atlanta. She is the Editor-in-Chief of In The Powder Room and blogs at The Bearded Iris: A Recalcitrant Wife and Mother Tells All. Leslie is an Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop Humorist of the Month, a BlogHer Humor Voice of the Year for 2013 and 2012, and a Babble Top 100 Mom Blogger of 2011. She is also the editor and co-author of the #1 Amazon top-rated and best-selling women’s humor anthology, “You Have Lipstick on Your Teeth.” Connect with her on Facebook and Twitter @TheBeardedIris.

Comments (14)

  1. Stacia Reply

    February 10, 2014 at 10:29 am

    I have tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. Pooping during labor makes a hilarious blog post!

    • Leslie Reply

      February 12, 2014 at 3:59 pm

      Thanks Stacia! “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion!” ~Truvy, Steel Magnolias

  2. Anni Reply

    February 10, 2014 at 11:53 am

    This is the perfect article—not only because it’s hilarious, but also because I keep You Have Lipstick on Your Teeth in my bathroom. Synchronized pooping 🙂

    • Leslie Reply

      February 12, 2014 at 4:01 pm

      That is so meta, Anni. Thanks for the great comment!

  3. Darcy Perdu (So Then Stories) Reply

    February 10, 2014 at 12:11 pm

    Hilarious! And horrifying! And hilarious again!

    • Leslie Reply

      February 12, 2014 at 4:02 pm

      Well as long as we end on hilarious, I’m okay with it. Thanks Darcy!

  4. Kathy Radigan Reply

    February 10, 2014 at 2:44 pm

    Hysterical and horrifying all at the same time!! Nothing like a little labor to get rid of any dignity one had left after 9 months of pregnancy! Thanks for a great laugh!

    • Leslie Reply

      February 12, 2014 at 4:02 pm

      As if I had any dignity to start with…Kathy, please, I thought you knew me better than that. 😉

  5. Jill Reply

    February 10, 2014 at 2:54 pm

    I cannot wait to meet this woman! Sorry, Rossow, but she might be funnier than you, only because she talks about poop and you do not. But you do fart a lot.

    • Leslie Reply

      February 12, 2014 at 4:06 pm

      I still cannot process that Kerry (I mean, Rossow) isn’t a poop talker! How in the world is that even possible? Can’t wait to meet you too Jill…but please be warned that I have boundary issues and might touch your dickie.

  6. Jessica Cobb @Domestic Pirate Reply

    February 12, 2014 at 5:46 pm

    “Unless, of course, you don’t mind your b-hole acting like a Play-DOH Fuzzy Pumper Barber Shop extruder while you’re pushing.”

    I bow to you. This is, by far, the most hilarious, and disturbing, visual comparison I have ever read in my entire life.

  7. Andrea @ Maybe It's Just Me Reply

    February 12, 2014 at 9:09 pm

    Oh m’gosh! I have waited over 16 years to finally be able to laugh and feel just a little bit better about just how many times the paper got changed. I was worried they were going to run out. I feel some bit of pride right now, knowing I stand in good company…and can just LAUGH!!!!!

  8. […] mean really, who hasn’t wondered about this before?), you’ll definitely want to click HERE to read Leslie’s story. […]

  9. Amy - Funny Is Family Reply

    February 15, 2014 at 9:36 pm

    I’m torn, much like my lady bits after delivering a baby. I love this hilarious story, but I hate how Italian sausage will now make me think of Leslie’s poop chute.

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