I left the relationship when I found out I was pregnant, he never wanted kids until we were secure and I understood that, a misshap with my pills didn’t. I didn’t want him to be forced into being a father and so I broke up with him via a letter, changed my number, emails, usernames and moved out of town.
To start, it was lonely, but I was used to having a quiet life, Mom left when I was 6 and dad died when I was 14. My older sister was around but never home, so I fended for myself quietly until I met Justin, my soul mate. There is nothing I’ve ever been more secure in than mine and Justin’s relationship.
I don’t believe in abortion, not for any religious reasons or higher motives.. I just don’t agree with it, unless it’s a pregnancy that will harm mom or baby, or the mom was raped. But this baby? I opened my legs and messed up, so I’ll love it with all of my heart. Luckily, money is no issue, I was left with plenty of it from Dad, which I’ll be eternally grateful for.
So here I am, in my home, I’ve just put the last lick of paint on the wall of the nursery and I’m eating indian food. I’m due any time now, my new neighbour, Alice offered to drive me when I go into labor, which makes me feel at ease seeing as I have been having Braxton hicks.
Spiritual birth! Written by Maisey. A fictional depiction of my 4th birth based off things I enjoy about childbirth
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I hesitate to use the word “pain” in connection with birth, as I feel that it is a matter of how one accepts the sensations. What I was feeling could easily have been felt as “pain” by someone else. But because I knew that it was part of my body’s actions to get the baby born, and was therefore purposeful, it all seemed intense rather than painful. It took a bit of time to integrate this, as all my previous births were effortless. This was far from that, so it took me by surprise. I did do a bit of thinking now and then about how different this was, but tried not to focus on it. I knew that it was its own experience, unlike any other; comparing it to another would detract from what I was doing in that moment.
While kneeling there in the makeshift birthing nest (next to the fold out futon bed) I had prepared earlier, I began to feel a different force moving through me. I was feeling it on a physical level, but also envisioning the baby being pressed downward. What I was “seeing” was a cross-section of my birth canal, and a line drawing of the baby’s head moving down towards my vaginal opening, much like a progress bar of sorts. A bit strange; though it was an odd way to see it, it felt like very spiritual and connect to the sensations going on down between my nethers. This felt even more intense and I had to deliberately relax my back, letting the energy flow down and out to get through each expansion without fighting it. Knowing, from the vision, that the baby was descending gave me an added incentive to let it flow through me more easily.
A little after this, I decided to try out my birth nest since I hadn’t spent any time there at all. I remember thinking to myself that it felt way too soon to be in there, but that I could try it out for a little while and then go somewhere else. Once again, I noted the time–it was 6:35. I kneeled next to the nest and leaned against the bed.
The expansions were very strong, and I felt a strong need to clutch at the comforter, though I knew that having that much tension in my hands might not be a good idea. I felt as if I might be blown away by my body into another dimension if I didn’t. I also (on a more rational level) remembered that I had a lot of tension in my hands during Emma’s birth (my third baby, when I was holding on to the changing table), and this didn’t adversely affect the birth. But, I didn’t fight my body during her birth. This time, I undoubtedly did (much as I hate to admit it) to some extent. He says that there was no outward sign of this, but I did have a number of thoughts along the lines of: “This isn’t what my other births were like. This isn’t what I expected.” Not once did it cross my mind that there was something wrong with what was happening. I knew fully that all was well, but it was disconcerting.
During some of the expansions, I felt my breath go a bit shuddery, as it does when my body begins to push. My body felt as if it were being taken over and driven by an outside force.
While leaning against the bed, I began feeling immense pressure, and then a distinct pop deep inside me (the amniotic sac popping as his head pressed against/through it). I felt my whole body shuddering with the power of my baby’s descent. I wanted to feel my vagina to see if the baby was crowning, but was scared to because I thought that if I didn’t feel a head, I would not know what to do (not rational, as obviously, I wouldn’t do anything but wait). Also, the sensations were so overwhelming that I didn’t even feel capable of putting my hands near there, thinking that it would intensify what I was feeling. It seemed better to disengage a bit and let my body do what it needed to without interference.
I began feeling a need to push with the surges. They no longer felt like expansions, but one continuous downward force of pure, soul-splitting, Earth-shaking Power. I held back pushing a bit, as the pressure intensified when I pushed, but it then became impossible not to. As I was still right next to the bed leaning, facing on it with my weight. My body was forced into hands and knees, and I began pushing more, even though it frightened me a bit to feel this Immensity. I had a strong need to hold something for leverage, but I didn’t have anything, so I grabbed the sheets (highly unsatisfying when one wants leverage!). I could feel his head passing through my cervix, one millimeter at a time. Soon with a few more pushes his shoulders were sliding through my cervix. My body and soul felt as if they were being turned inside out, pulled downwards, pulled apart, shaken and taken to another place. I felt like I was envisioning it all in third person. How overwhelming, how wonderful, how frightening, how perfect!
I had begun vocalizing and heard (through the roar in my head and body) This lightened my spiritual load a bit, and made it easier to get out of the way of my body. Since it was clearly inevitable that the baby would emerge sooner or later, and tensing up against it wasn’t going to help, I was able to get fully upright and into a deep squat, no longer leaned on the bed. It felt like the right thing to do so I did.
Once I was all of the way upright in a squatting position, his head came down further, though I couldn’t feel it at first when I touched my vagina (thinking, “Surely I must be crowning now!”). But I wasn’t crowning just yet. A few more pushes later it came down a bit more and I could feel a little of that wonderful, wrinkly scalp. Slowly, slowly, it began emerging.
It felt such a tight squeeze (and what a surprise that was. It was pretty intense now!) that I began massaging my vagina all around, not really stretching my lips out but more like trying to push them past or around the head. The day before, I had read about one mom’s recount of her birth– in which she had a pretty hefty sized baby and to aid her crowning she pulled her vulva aside so forcefully that she tore herself a little.
I remembered this while birthing, and decided not to do the same so I wouldn’t suffer such injuries myself, though enticing as it was! I was saying to the baby, “Come on now baby”, “It’s OK”, “Come on out”, and, “Big head!” The head slipped a little further outside of my lips, and I said with joy, “Baby’s helping!” At one point, everything stopped, and I was stuck there in an endless moment with this enormous head stretching me. I still had my hand on my vagina and I tried to look down to see, but couldn’t see over my belly. Another push and more pressing down by my body, then that wild burn of a full crown. I bore down once more and kept saying, “Come on”, and “Giving birth”. More pressing down by my body, then that beautiful release as his head emerged fully, all the way out of me. Oh, what a lovely feeling–his warm wet head in my very hands! I exclaimed with a quiet breath, ”Oh it’s out, it’s out. The head is finally out".
Slowly the shoulders came through on the next push and another birthed the rest of the torso, with a warm flood of fluid, right into my hands. As I was sitting back against the bed, I felt something soft next to his bottom, and thought, “Oh, it’s a penis. I had a boy!“ Through most of my pregnancy, I had felt strongly, nay, known completely, that this was a girl. Despite this, all I felt was complete and total satisfaction. I was utterly thrilled to have my little boy in my arms. (That morning, I had the quiet realization, “This is a boy,” so it wasn’t as much of a surprise as it might have been.) He began crying immediately, and was a bit purple but turned pink not shortly with time.
A couple of minutes later, I felt warm fluid (that I presumed to be blood) flow out. I said, “I have to have the placenta now,” and got onto my knees to give a little push. The placenta came right out in a splash of blood. It was not painful or difficult but I did have to pull a bit on the cord to help get the placenta out. (Interesting note about his placenta; it was slightly bigger than the others I had birthed and was more puffed up.
After having four kids prior to this one I knew instinctively, a crying baby automatically means, “Offer breast!” He finally quieted down and latched on. He did well and nursed for a bit. My partner said that the baby looked bigger than the others, and I said, “His head sure felt like it.” I could not believe I had such a big baby. It was quite surreal.
That night was pretty uneventful–a few meconium diapers to change, beautiful baby to smell, cuddle, stare at, and ooh over. He was very content, not crying, and spent time quietly looking around. By a day or so later, he had discovered the joys of nursing and is now extremely good at getting on the boob. He can even do it in the dark on his own.
The next day we weighed and measured him, for the sole purpose of showing that I do indeed produce only 6 to 7 pound babies (all three of the others were that weighed, were between 18 and 20 inches long, and had roughly 12 ½ inch heads). Well, I broke my track record. Baby weighs 9 pounds, 5 ounces and is 20 ¼ inches long, and has a 14 ½ inch head.
Perhaps there was a reason that his emergence was on a different level of intensity than his siblings had been! It explains why his face was a bit puffy when he was born and why he was a bit purple right after birth, yet he had no head molding (he came down so fast!). It also explains why my tail bone was sore and felt out of place. My partner said, “You got out of his way.” Glad I am to have done it!
My body fared very well, considering how shaken apart I felt when birthing. My vagina had no damage at all. Though the whole area felt a bit swollen, it was a little visible but there was no stinging when I peed. It did feel a little numb for a couple of days, and I had to be careful to hold myself together there when I coughed (which I did a lot, since I was sick) or a bit of pee would come out–another new experience for me! (I guess that’s what big babies do to you!)
I had afterpains that were more intense than my last child, and lasted for three days. Motherwort and Motrin once again helped out. I bled more than after Emma’s birth, but it was still pretty minimal. It was like a medium flow period that lasted for about four days, then began lessening. My milk came in the same night as my birth. My breasts were quite engorged in the following days. Cabbage leaves didn’t help quite as much this time, so I encouraged a more than willing Emma to nurse a lot, which helped lessen the swelling and discomfort.
I feel so blessed to have this big little person in my life. Although it hurts and sometimes is overwhelming, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. It’s incredible giving birth and each one is so distinctly different.
The men of this earth will really watch women create life, scream in pain and struggle to give birth to that life, and then feed that life off of our bodies and be like, yeah, we’re better than you.
1. “I’ll be all stretched out down there after.” Hahahaha. Bullshit. I had the opposite problem! After using dilators, I am ok now. Results will vary, but if you’re experiencing uncomfortable changes that last longer than a few weeks, talk to your doctor. You may benefit from pelvic floor therapy. Your body goes through incredible changes during pregnancy and equally incredible healing after. The patriarchy will have you believe you will be a less desirable partner now or that you will “feel different” to a man. This is the same stupid myth that tells young girls they will get “all stretched out” after too much sex or too many partners. All lies. That thing is so flexible! Your body produces hormones during pregnancy and birth to make your vagina and vulva even MORE flexible. Ignore talk about “the husband stitch” or “an extra stitch,” you don’t need one and either does your partner. If your doctor does this to you, especially without telling you, that is medical malpractice.
2.“Moms bond instantly with their baby.” My first thought seeing my daughter shoot out of me was something like “thank god that’s over.” For a few seconds I was so focused on getting through the birthing part, I nearly forgot that there was a baby at the end of it all! It’s true that the first time I held her was the highlight of my life. But I was also exhausted and the entire thing was super surreal. Some parents with very difficult/traumatic labors take longer to process everything. It’s important to keep in mind that your baby is a complete (and very needy) stranger to you! I call the first three months the “screaming potato of responsibility stage.” It will take time to get to know them and for their personality to show. Hang in there, and the bond will come. If you are concerned, reach out to your OB or a therapist and tell them how you feel. You may be experiencing postpartum depression and there is shame-free help available.
3.“Labor is an emergency.” Very few labors are emergencies. I think my OB told me it’s under 1%. We’ve all seen it on TV: pregnant lady’s water breaks suddenly and dramatically in public, baby arrives seemingly moments later. While in rare cases labor happens fast (this is called “precipitous labor”), it is unusual, especially for your first baby. It’s a big range, but the average labor lasts hours. Mine lasted 29! And my water broke well into my labor when I was already at the hospital. And your water does not always break in one big gush, sometimes it leaks slowly and sometimes your doctor may have to assist you in breaking the amniotic sac. You will likely have plenty of time to get to the hospital or birthing center. In fact, the first several hours of this might be you wandering around your apartment, moaning, trying to eat a snack or two, and timing your contractions. The general rule is when your contractions are 5 minutes apart, last a minute, and in this pattern for an hour, it’s time to go. This is called the 5-1-1 rule. It’s important to remember not to view childbirth like you would an illness. It’s easy to do because of the medical setting and the hype/stigma around birth. But birth is natural and your body was made for this.
4.“I’m too petite to give birth vaginally.” This was believed in the medical community for years, and it’s total bullshit. There are rare conditions caused by childhood malnutrition that can cause a deformed pelvis, but other than that (and this condition hasn’t been common since Victorian times), you are more than likely good to go. Your baby will be sized and shaped just for you. I’m 5′1″ and weighed 105 lbs pre-pregnancy and I delivered just fine. The size of you or your pelvis does not determine how easy your labor will be.
5. “You have to push the whole time.” The pushing part is at the very end, after you have spent a long time in labor waiting through contractions for your cervix to dilate to 10cm. (Most of birth is just waiting around, trying to deal with it). The pushing stage can last anywhere from a few seconds to a couple hours. In my case it was a couple hours. If you have a C-section, you might never push or even go into labor at all.
6. “My C-section/medicated/augmented labor doesn’t count. Natural birth is the full experience.” Listen, ALL forms of birth are valid. The important part is coming out the other side with a healthy baby and a healthy you. My OB told me 90% of their patients opt for pain relief of some kind. There is no shame in it, it isn’t inherently unsafe, and it doesn’t make you less of a parent to opt for it. And this is coming from me, a very crunchy hippie.
If you are pregnant and have more childbirth questions, talk to your OB, take a first time childbirth class at your local hospital (strongly recommend), and read some books on labor. The more informed you are, the safer your birth will be, and you can go into it with peace of mind.
In 1759 king Louis XV commissioned pioneering midwife Angélique du Coudray to teach midwifery to rural women to reduce infant mortality. Between 1760 to 1783, she traveled rural France and it is estimated that she trained about 4,000 students during that time.
Du Coudray invented the first lifesize obstetrical mannequin, called “The Machine.” Various strings and straps served to simulate the process of childbirth. The head of the infant mannequin had a shaped nose, stitched ears, hair drawn with ink, and an open mouth, with a tongue.
While the semi-creepy mannequin is not pleasant to look at, let’s hope it helped to save a lot of lives.
Ever since that time A Cup of Jo published the photo of me eating a cheeseburger while giving birth to Isa, I’ve been asked by folks about giving birth without pain meds.
Look, I don’t think any woman should feel pressured to give birth a certain way. You do you — a feminist birth is more important than an unmedicated, vaginal one. If you are interested, however, and want to prepare, I spoke with…
Thousands of premature infants were saved from certain death by being part of a Coney Island entertainment sideshow.
At the time premature babies were considered genetically inferior, and were simply left to fend for themselves and ultimately die.
Dr Martin Couney offered desperate parents a pioneering solution that was as expensive as it was experimental - and came up with a very unusual way of covering the costs.
It was Coney Island in the early 1900’s. Beyond the Four-Legged Woman, the sword swallowers, and “Lionel the Lion-Faced Man,” was an entirely different exhibit: rows of tiny, premature human babies living in glass incubators.
The brainchild of this exhibit was Dr. Martin Couney, an enigmatic figure in the history of medicine. Couney created and ran incubator-baby exhibits on the island from 1903 to the early 1940s.
Behind the gaudy facade, premature babies were fighting for their lives, attended by a team of medical professionals.To see them, punters paid 25 cents.The public funding paid for the expensive care, which cost about $15 a day in 1903 (the equivalent of $405 today) per incubator.
Couney was in the lifesaving business, and he took it seriously. The exhibit was immaculate. When new children arrived, dropped off by panicked parents who knew Couney could help them where hospitals could not, they were immediately bathed, rubbed with alcohol and swaddled tight, then “placed in an incubator kept at 96 or so degrees, depending on the patient. Every two hours, those who could suckle were carried upstairs on a tiny elevator and fed by breast by wet nurses who lived in the building. The rest [were fed by] a funneled spoon. The smallest baby Couney handled is reported to have weighed a pound and a half.
His nurses all wore starched white uniforms and the facility was always spotlessly clean.
An early advocate of breast feeding, if he caught his wet nurses smoking or drinking they were sacked on the spot. He even employed a cook to make healthy meals for them.
The incubators themselves were a medical miracle, 40 years ahead of what was being developed in America at that time.
Each incubator was made of steel and glass and stood on legs, about 5ft tall. A water boiler on the outside supplied hot water to a pipe running underneath a bed of mesh, upon which the baby slept.
Race, economic class, and social status were never factors in his decision to treat and Couney never charged the parents for the babies care.The names were always kept anonymous, and in later years the doctor would stage reunions of his “graduates.
According to historian Jeffrey Baker, Couney’s exhibits “offered a standard of technological care not matched in any hospital of the time.”
Throughout his decades of saving babies, Couney understood there were better options. He tried to sell, or even donate, his incubators to hospitals, but they didn’t want them. He even offered all his incubators to the city of New York in 1940, but was turned down.
In a career spanning nearly half a century he claimed to have saved nearly 6,500 babies with a success rate of 85 per cent, according to the Coney Island History
In 1943, Cornell New York Hospital opened the city’s first dedicated premature infant station. As more hospitals began to adopt incubators and his techniques, Couney closed the show at Coney Island. He said his work was done.
Today, one in 10 babies born in the United States is premature, but their chance of survival is vastly improved—thanks to Couney and the carnival babies.
Where you live — in a city versus a rural area — could make a difference in how old you tend to be when you first have sex, what type of birth control you use and how many children you have.
These are the findings from federal data collected using the National Survey of Family Growth, which analyzed responses from in-person interviews with more than 10,000 U.S. women, ages 18 to 44, between 2011 and 2015.
On average, women living in rural areas said they had their first sexual encounter earlier than women living in urban areas, according to the survey. The mean age of first sexual intercourse among women living in rural areas was 16.6 years old. For women living in urban areas, the average age of first intercourse was 17.4.
“If we really want to help young women and teens have a healthy and safe sexual life, we need to get effective resources and education to them before 16,” Schwarz says — no matter where they live. Unfortunately, she notes, many of the teen pregnancy prevention programs that have been so effective in recent years in reducing teen pregnancy rates are being shut down in schools and communities nationwide under President Trump’s administration.
