My second childbirth experience was so swift that I didn’t have the opportunity for an epidural—and let me tell you, it was agonizing. I had hoped for a repeat of my first birth, which was manageable thanks to medication, but I was mistaken. I suppose the saying goes, “Man plans and God laughs,” but it felt more like “woman plans and God is rolling on the floor in laughter.”
How could I have known that the seven hours of preparation for pushing with my first child would turn into a mere two hours with my second? To make matters worse, it happened just as the shifts changed at the hospital. By the time the new midwife arrived, I had already transitioned from the “This hurts so much—please get me an epidural!” stage to the “Aaaaahhhhh, it’s coming!” phase.
The pain surged through me in intense, scorching waves that had me screaming so loudly that even the midwife lost her composure. “If you keep that up, you’re going to have a sore throat tomorrow,” she snapped at me. “Get it together and start pushing.”
After the delivery, I trembled for two hours, overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience. I felt betrayed by my own body, shocked and traumatized by the pain. Contrary to the common myth, I didn’t forget the agony the moment my swaddled baby was placed in my arms. Instead, it was a mixed feeling: “Hello, sweet girl, lovely to meet you. Why the rush? Go to your dad for a bit while I gather myself.”
For a long time, I felt it was my responsibility to inform my fellow mothers-to-be about the reality of natural birth pain. “Just know it really hurts,” I’d tell them. I wanted them to be well-informed based on their own pain tolerances, not sugar-coated fantasies.
Then, one of my friends, whom I had warned, had a natural birth that was quick and unexpectedly easy—much like mine but without the pain. What was going on? Was her baby smaller? Did she have a different anatomy? Was her pain threshold higher? Maybe her mental resilience was better? Perhaps her expectations were simply more positive than mine.
Deep down, I hoped she was just in a state of post-birth euphoric denial. It felt more comforting than admitting that childbirth can be as random as life itself.
Hearing her story made me realize it was time to stop sharing my horror stories. What good was it to alarm optimistic mothers with my stormy forecasts when every birth is unique? Does forewarning them about pain genuinely help, or does it only add more stress?
The fact is, no two births are the same—ask any mother. We each approach childbirth differently, with varying levels of readiness, expectations, and physical conditions. Factors such as being early or overdue, tired or energetic, filled with anticipation or dread all influence our ability to manage pain and achieve our desired birth experience. And let’s be honest: Mother Nature loves to keep us on our toes.
That birth was quite some time ago. I still remember the emotions and the experience, but the pain has faded from my memory. Now, when I meet a woman about to give birth, I listen with empathy and wish her a smooth delivery, knowing the most important thing is the safety of both mother and child. The memory of pain will eventually be replaced by cherished moments.
For more insights on family planning and fertility, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination from Science Daily. Also, if you’re interested in becoming a parent, consider exploring the options available through the Impregnator at Home Insemination Kit.