I am a writer and am planning on potentially writing a story in which a character having a baby is a major plot point. I have no children myself so was curious about the details of others’ experiences. As I am writing historical fiction, I don’t care about the hospital setting etc. but more the physical sensations, emotional experience etc of the stages of labour and then right after the birth, eg. some people say they felt shaky. What did you want straight after the birth/ how did you feel? What was it like seeing your baby for the first time? I imagine surreal? How did your body change in the immediate period after the birth? I want the ‘hollywood doesn’t show you’ perspective of going into initial labour, active labour, birth and post birth, and getting used to a new baby, so I don’t come off as disingenuous.Thanks in advance
For people who have given birth: what was the experience like?
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH
I was stunned that you can be in that much physical pain without actually dying.
The late contractions felt like I was being crushed from the chest down by a steamroller and just not effing dying like I should have.
I always laugh when women are like, “what if I poop on the table?” Honey, you’d sacrifice that newborn baby to Satan to make the pain stop.
(I’d have invited my boss, former crushes, bullies, exes, and everyone else from miles around to take a front row seat to laugh and point while watching me crap if that would have made the pain stop.)
Postpartum, I felt like I’d fallen down the world’s tallest hill and tried to grab every stick, stone and blade of grass on the way down to stop myself. Everything, everywhere was pulled.
Get the drugs. Poop on the table. Save yourself.
It felt like I was being burned alive, my whole body stung with the sting of 1000 bees. My back arched and then I curled around my belly involuntarily repeatedly during a contraction. I pushed until my eyes felt like they were going to explode out of my skull and until my stomach wanted to unleash its contents over the bed just to get something out. And still the baby didn’t come. I bent over the back of the bed, gripping the headboard and making guttural noises not too dissimilar to a pissed off cow. At times the pain was so bad I forgot I was in labour and just wanted to do anything to make the pain stop.
As I laboured my husband, a former army medic and an Afghan war veteran, sat by my side full of encouragement and positivity. That was until I grabbed the front of his shirt, and growled ‘help me’ at him. I’ve never seen this man panic before but now he panicked. All the colour drained from his face and I could tell he was totally at a loss of what to do or how to help.
By the end, 28 hours after the start, I was so exhausted when the doctor asked me to move position she may as well have asked me to climb Everest. They got me to sign consent forms, they asked questions I don’t remember the answers to, it was like being tortured for information I didn’t have, my body and brain were so broken I’d have agreed to anything.
It’s like my brain broke. I disassociated so hard. I could feel myself drifting away, not into unconsciousness but into blissful ignorance or nothing. I didn’t care what happened anymore, I couldn’t comprehend how to make the pain stop so I gave in to it. Instead of fleeing and trying to get away from the bees I just lay there and got stung. Three big pushes later and my daughter was born. When she was plopped onto my chest covered in womb cheese and looking like a really angry, wrinkly old man, I remembered why I was there. I could feel her pulling me back from the edge of nothing, the parts of my brain capable of rationality came back. Then came the shakes, the awful cold sensation of shock and the only thing that helped was a slice of toast. The best toast I’ve ever had in my entire life.
When she latched it was the most magical and grounding feeling, she was the reason I put myself through hell and I’d immediately do it all over again for her. We sat there in our little bubble, my husband and our daughter. It was like we were one, the pure love and closeness was like a drug. A complete oxytocin high of joy and of trauma bonding.
When I was able to get up a few hours later, I didn’t trust my legs to work until then, I was wobbly and felt like I’d run a marathon with zero training. My husband helped me hobble to the shower and I left a trickle of blood across the floor. The bleeding was the heaviest flow I’ve ever had with a period x1000. We called it satans waterfall and there was no way anything but an adult diaper could contain it. No one prepared me for the postpartum smell, it was a mix of body odour, mostly from the night sweats and hormone changes, and blood. Early days I’d smell like a piece of old liver left in the sun despite repeated showers. The milk coming in on day three postpartum was fun, I woke up after about 3 minutes sleep all night to find myself with a giant pair of stripper tits. They were rock solid, ached like a bitch and hurt to even look at. My husband is a boob man but was threatened with amputation if he even thought about touching them. Thankfully baby girl made short work of them because after three days of only sticky colostrum she was ravenous. She cluster feed for the next 6 weeks.
This is long af so I’ll stop there. Hope something was helpful in my essay.
When they whip out the kiddy pool to catch everything and the doc puts on this massive waterproof gown you know its going to get really messy.
maybe I have a high pain tolerance. but I had some pain enough to take 3 baths that night. then I remember describing what I imagine sitting on a baseball bat would feel like if the bat was standing upright on the floor I felt everything in my bum.
I felt a little nervous to call the on-call OB at like 2am but she was very pleasant. every contraction felt like what i imagine a baseball bat up the bum. that would come and go. we arrived at the hospital ER sit around and waited. ivs started vitals. wait for a room. then I got epidural I had all male staff and they were super chill and nice. my legs were numb and lifeless all day. I imagined a tsunami wave to visualize when to push as the contractions come through waves. I had the hiccups the whole time. I pushed for 2 hrs & 17 min. felt like biggest poo ever lol every sensation was in the bum pressure wize. when they set my baby on me to clean him up I just recall how tiny his fingers were and I felt anxious that they would fall off at how delicate they were. (post partum anxiety hit me hard) he had breathed in muconium and they took him for a few hours to monitor while we ate. I had been up for about 32 hours straight. I was proud of myself that I didn’t poop or die. those were my goals. I did fall when I got up to go pee my legs just colappsed bc of the effects of the epidural were still strong. and did not get much sleep that while weekend.
Lots of friction, a bit of stinging. Pardon my language, but imagine taking the largest poop of your life. You’re just pushing and sweating and it hurts a bit because things are stretching and then there’s a big wave of relief. Emotionally for me it was just another day until after it was over. And then it all kind of hit me at once. Just “oh my gosh. I made this person. This person is mine and my responsibility and I get to watch them grow and help them decide who they want to become and they’re here.” and it’s a lot. A lot of pressure, anxiety, but also euphoria, and a pure sense of joy. And then after that it was “I need to pee NOW” and my epidural was botched (pregnant people, if you’re having an easy time with pain the whole way through, say no to the epi when the day comes, it usually causes more issues than anything) so I was able to move and use the restroom, and then I was just hungry and tired. I slept for days while my daughter was having her lungs cared for as the water didn’t come out until she did, effectively water boarding her the moment she tried to take her first breath. I only woke up to check on her for a moment here and there and occasionally take a drink of something. But the epidural being messed up really is to blame for that. I had migraines so bad I couldn’t walk after the initial clean up from birth. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and I puked often. It was the worst experience of my life, and I would give birth a million times more if someone could promise me I would never experience a botched spinal anything ever again. It felt like a freight train going through the middle of my skull at all times. And then just waves of nausea on top of it. And nausea is my least favorite sensation we feel as humans. It’s just the worst to me. And these issues didn’t completely go away until around 4-5 months after she was born. All in all, is was the worst and best experience of my entire life. I’ve never felt as bad, or as blessed as I did when I had my daughter. And I don’t think I will ever have my emotions that at odds with each other again.
I can’t answer because I’ve never given birth. But, I’ve never understood why anyone would go through this more than one time.
It felt like the best poop I’ve ever had.