The birth of a new baby is one of those rare moments in life that you (in most situations) have 6-9 months to fully prepare for the huge life-changing event. Not only that, but hormones tend to take over (nesting) and you have magical energy focused on one objective: prepare for bringing a baby into the world. There are two problems with this set-up. I will be going over these two issues and many more problems that we, as soon-to-be mommas experience in this series.
The first problem that arises with so much time to prep is we have a false sense of being in control of what is to come. Our doctors reinforce in us that “I am woman, hear me roar!” mentality. That sense that because we are clearly the better sex (despite personal experiences of being told otherwise in the workforce, by our government’s history on women and their rights, in school, or by boys that we liked as adolescents) we can do anything that needs to be done. This repetitive pacifier of a saying given to us at times that we are most likely to be screaming out for help and camaraderie can do some damage on its own.
When facing a- let’s be real - potentially life-threatening situation (giving birth) being told to focus your energy on “I am woman, hear me roar!” doesn’t allow for a moment to address fears, concerns, or intuitive sensations. And yes, you are a fucking woman, and I will make sure you know you can roar. But I also wished during the planning for my natural birth where my training doula birth coach told me there was no room for negative thoughts, that someone had grabbed me in those months leading up to the birth and said, Hey! If shit goes sideways, just rotate with it.
Because it will go sideways unless you are part of that 1% that gets to say “everything went as planned.'' I hope it does go as you plan, though. I assume that’s a lot easier.
My husband and I spent 3 months of mandatory weekly classes training for a drug-free hypnobirth. I was having real contractions 5 minutes apart for the last 2 months of being pregnant. After 14 hours of labor, I called for gas. At 20 hours of labor. I called for an epidural (it didn’t work). I spent 5 hours pushing a baby that despite being turned down for the last three months in the perfect position, decided to twist causing my hip to start to dislocate whilst I was pushing. After an OBGYN with “tiny hands” reached inside of me to twist my baby, that same stubborn child of mine managed to put her fist by her head at the “last minute”. I had to push her out like that for an additional 3.5 hours after having already done 1.5 hours of pushing. The three mantras I had drilled into my husbands head to say to me escaped him as he watched me struggle. He managed to say, “don’t talk” and “breathe while you push” at literally all the wrong moments. But there’s no way he could’ve known what I was going through.
I kept battling the thoughts of defeat in between pushes. I didn’t dare to say them out-loud except for twice during the entire ordeal. Each time, it was as my midwife stepped out for a moment. The second time it happened, I was convinced she was going to call for an emergency c-section. I was past the 24 hour mark with my water being broken. She didn’t. She came back in and said, “Your baby is fine. You are fine. It’s going to be when you have ZERO energy left in you- that’s when your baby will be here.” And despite EVERYTHING in me having been pushed to its limit, in that moment I let out a laugh, and said “Fuck! We have a long way to go, then” We shared a relieving chuckle.
That same moment also made me realize, my goal wasn’t the perfect birth that followed my months of planning. My goal was to get this baby out of me safely. And that’s when I fell into my animalistic mental state and cursed anyone that asked of me any higher cerebral activity. That baby came out and she sent the 5 emergency NICU nurses headed back to their stations, and the other one went to go grab a larger diaper as my little one came out the size of a 3 month old.
All that to reiterate, it’s great to plan. You should plan. You should try, but don’t feel like you failed if anything goes not as planned. Once again, this is a life threatening experience. You’ll do great at it… but just when you reach the other side, no matter how you got there, pat yourself on the back and realize your accomplishment.