Shared Pain

There is a quaint expression of shared pain amongst a group of the natives of Mexico. When a woman goes into labor they tie a string around the man's balls (who is responsible for this tragedy) so that he can share the pain of the labor. She starts hurting, she yanks the string. How sweet. How interesting. What bullshit.

Pussy whipped, I say.

The writer of this sweet little article goes to great lengths to talk about how the man does not share in labor and therefore has no say in terms of advice. There is wisdom there, I think. Precious little, but some wisdom at least. All of you guys who read this will share some empathy with the rest of the guys who read this diatribe of hormonal imbalance.

For those of you who are past the dating stage and are well into marriage, this sounds just a wee bit trite does it not? Do you remember dating? I do. I remember it well. I would not go back to dating ever if I am given a choice. It was awkward and painful. It was a time of uncertainty and a time of searching for values and meaning for all the stuff that we put ourselves through as a species looking for the soulmate that we all know is out there. At least that is what we are all told. Some believe it, some find it, and some realize that life is what we make of it from moment to moment. Do you remember the point where your special other wanted to know about having children? There are men who do not know what it means to have and raise children or have a mate. For those of us who remember what the hell of becoming an adult is like there is little ambivalence.

The most common expression for that is that there are men out there that do not know how to make a commitment. They are indeed out there, but that is not something reserved exclusively for males, and it is not something that is universally true by any stretch of the imagination.
I remember a statement that my lovely other half made while we were dating. She basically told me that she wanted to have about six kids like her parents had. I was cool with that, but my resonse was "ok, you are the one having to have them, so you tell me when enough is enough." Immediately after our first child she was wondering if one child is enough. She never had to tie a string around my fucking balls for me to realize what was involved. In fact, I think I had a more realistic idea of what having rug-rats running around the house meant, and my thinking extended well beyond the point of delivery. As a man, my thinking was about what happens when they are 18 and do not have a plan for life. I was thinking about what happens when a daughter comes home pregnant and does not know what happened. I was thinking about the multitude of possibilities that exist with each and every child born into this harsh and unforgiving world. All of that not-withstanding, I was still willing to try that if she wanted to make a go of it. The pain of labor is one way that Darwinism makes an entry into the life of humans. We did make two children ultimately, and we have shared all the pain and sweetness of that combined effort together.

Sure, women have to go through the "time of the month." You bet they do. Any man worth his salt has lived through hormonal imbalances from his spouse enough to have a very clear picture of why that is a total injustice. Talking about biological injustice, though, is like bitching about the law of gravity, or the fact that we all get old and die from something. Remember, he is the one living with the results as well. He did not earn it, he volunteered to live with it. There are sound and valuable reasons that men and women are different, and raising kids has a lot to do with that. It has nothing to do with who is the "provider." It has everything to do with the fact that both female children and male children need both genders as parents in order to live a balanced and happy life. Single parents blow my mind. What a task. What a special place they must have at the end of their trials. The writer of this article is lucky enough to have a partner that will live through all the tribulations that raising kids will bring, and I think that she should quit worrying about the delivery and pray that he has enough balls, sans strings, to follow through with the hard part.