My Birth Story
By: Anna Rova
Tags: Birth, Feminism, Children, Women, Pregnancy

Induction did hit me hard and fast.

After the midwife has broken my waters by attaching a tiny little heart rate monitor into the baby’s head, we waited for two hours for labor to start.

That did start me feeling like it’s all about to happen but no contractions.

What did start the labor was the artificial oxytocin flowing directly into my right-hand vein through a drip. The usual dose is about one millimeter every 30 minutes. For about two hours everything was great. I was starting to feel these waves of intense sensations pulling down in my belly, just like I’ve been told, every 5–10 min but they were quite mild and manageable. The plan was to find that specific level of artificial oxytocin continuously flowing into my blood that would take me into active labor or first stage — strong and steady contractions every 3–4 minutes that would last up to 1.5 minutes each.

I knew this labor and birth would have to be quick in order to avoid infection since I tested positive with GBS (Group B streptococcus) and refused to take antibiotics.

And then at around 2 PM, the greatest show of my life has begun.

Curtains were pulled up, oxytocin had done its job. I have finally entered active labor with strong and steady contractions. My birth preferences and the whole plan of moving around, trying different positions and “riding the wave” of each contraction were quickly thrown out of the window because the pain and the pulling were extremely intense. I couldn’t breathe or walk or sit “through” it. It was really something I have never experienced before. I am not even sure how to describe it. It felt like bones and pelvis coming apart squeezing and pulling.

Every time a contraction started I would make a deep grunting noise and String would immediately start pushing really hard on my ankles — the acupressure points. It really did help. For a while.

When you’re in pain, there is that specific moment when you think you can’t do it, but you actually can. And that blurry line is infinitely expandable. It’s all in your mind.

Well, my mind gave up. Or I gave up on it. It was too much.

As soon as I pulled the gas mask on my face and started taking deep breaths in and out, I was chained to the bed. I felt that the gas helped ease the intense sensations but only for a while.

— “I can’t do it.”

— “Yes, you can.”

— “No, no, I can’t.”

— “Yes, you can.”

This was the conversation I was having with the midwife and with myself.

It actually felt like I can’t do it but I didn’t have a choice. I had to move along with it all. No way backward. Gotta push through. Literally!

And again, I’m at that blurry line of “can/can’t do it.”

I wanted whatever would help me not feel this. I wanted a way out. It was a mental and a physical prison I needed to get out of and I didn’t know how. It was like being in one of those crazy labyrinths with no way out. I was the bloody maze runner in my own childbirth!

I kept taking long deep breaths. I told String I’m ready for whatever else there is to help get through this.

But I didn’t panic. Heart rates, both baby’s and mine, were normal. Blood pressure was normal. Everything was actually quite normal and good. It was just my uterus was squeezing the baby out. The usual thing that happens…

But my uterus was moving too fast for me. Welcome, mister morphine. I have never met this uncle so I had no idea how it would be like. I knew that it would pretty much relax me and possibly make me high.

They did a quick check and I was 5 cm dilated so half way through. As I was lying on the bed in complete agony, it felt like a lifetime until they finally administered the injection in my left butt cheek.

It has kicked in fairly quick. Relief. That hit of relaxation. But it wasn’t over yet.

I was high. So high that I would literally pass out for a minute or two between contractions only to wake up again to the agonizing intense pulling starting to build up. It was indeed like surfing a giant wave that you can’t jump off because it would kill you. You can’t go back. There is no rewind button. I had to ride the wave. There was no way out. Only forward.

that’s how childbirth feels like

I bet surfers are experts at childbirth ;-)

“One contraction at a time. Just this one. Breathe. Breathe. It will end soon. This, too, shall pass.”

But it wasn’t passing. It felt like it would never end. It felt like I was stuck here forever lying in bed, waking up to these intense sensations and pains every two minutes. Crazy shit. I thought this is it. I will stay here forever. I couldn’t look at the clock, I didn’t know where I was and why was this happening to me. It felt like torture. It felt like misery. I wanted out. I was done. (I’ve spent about 3–4 hours in this state.)

At some point, I started feeling the pulling not only in the front of my pelvis but also in the back. And that was another level of sensations. Everything had intensified.

I told String I’m ready for whatever else is next. I didn’t care. I was ready for a C-section or whatever other section there is that will get this baby out. I wanted this to end NOW. I was done.

Epidural. The magical drug that makes it all better but could make everything worse.

Well, I was in great luck because that back pushing I felt was actually the baby’s head.

“You’re fully dilated. I can see the baby’s head! Time to push!” she told me all excited.

Oh god. Here we go. The magic words every woman in labor wants to hear. As soon as I heard that, I immediately sobered up. I was in transition.

I turned around, looked her straight in the eyes and told her to tell me what to do because I have no idea how to push. I didn’t feel the urge to push, I didn’t know how.

She guided me into a couple of sitting positions on the bed and asked me to push as hard as I can at the end of every contraction like I would do a poo.

SAY WHAT?!

A second midwife appeared and started taking notes. Both of these women were doing something they do every day for work… I turned around and told them that their job is crazy.

I was definitely in transition.

It felt like I had to poo a watermelon. It was merely impossible. The baby’s head was moving along by what felt like 0.00001 millimeters. The midwife was holding a warm compress on my bottom in order to avoid tearing. String was at my head side and not watching. Good decision on his part.

I didn’t care about anyone and anything. I was on a mission to get the baby out. I was unstoppable. I was screaming my lungs out. Nothing else mattered. Time had stopped. I was an animal. Everything in my core was concentrated on pushing this baby out.

I changed positions again lying on the bed with my knees high up. I tried pushing the watermelon again but it wasn’t going anywhere. I was stuck. The midwife asked if I want to feel the baby’s head. I put my two fingers in between my legs and felt something hard and slippery where my vagina used to be. The watermelon was my baby’s head. Crazy shit. I pushed some more but nothing was moving.

At that point, I realized that I could be lying here forever and just pushing. It felt like constipation 2.0. I didn’t want to be constipated with a watermelon forever. I was so over this.

So I decided that this is it. I pulled my right leg up and used a leg rest to push myself into it and with the next contraction I decided to give it all and pushed so hard, and kept pushing and felt lots of burning and with this push, the baby’s head was born. The midwife told me to push hard one more time. And this is where the baby’s body was born.

Oh god. It’s over.