Several hours into a gruelling utterly exhausting labour I relented and asked begged and pleaded for an epidural. I was finally relaxed enough to get in some kip, as I was still no where near ready for popping.
Only, everything had relaxed and I could NOT get any fucking sleep due to the relentless uncontrollable fog horn farting that ensued. And it want on for hours, and hours of unbearable embarrassment.
I mean one fart is embarrassing enough, but constantly for several hours was equally as excruciating as the pain of labour!
But it finally stopped (or so I thought) when I went into active labour. Needed an episiotomy and ventouse to get the stubborn little sod out. While the lovely young doctor was 'down there' stitching me back up all the backed-up farts, that I stupidly thought had just stopped, just exploded out of my arse right in her face, with such force that I swear her hair blew back. She gasped and drew back, eyes watering, while I apologised profusely.
She was lovely about it, and said "poor you, seems like you've you had a lot of pressure building up in there, that must've been uncomfortable" while trying to shake her fart-swept hair back into place and trying not to gag.
Poor woman, I felt terrible