Oh my god ! Birthing is an experience, exquisite yet dramatic. That is a fact. No secret there. Mine, was theatrical ! I could’ve taken a bow after the whole ordeal. And if you’ve ever been in an event that qualifies as a PTSD trigger, you’d know; time slows right down. Muffled voices, slow motion gestures and rhythmic beeps in the background like a weird rock band falling asleep.
My first time was a good old fashion SVD or spontaneous vaginal delivery, what we call a Normal delivery at 38 weeks. It was every girls dream birthing. At least it was mine. No complications, no mess, easy peasy lemon queasy. The second one was full of surprises/drama, quiet literally. We had a healthy baby due around the first week of September but we didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy (I was dying to know) and COVID made it interesting enough. My contractions began on 24th of August a week before my due date. On and off, I’d just freeze and wait for the discomfort to pass. Prodromal Labor, is what feels more like a preparation for Labor. I personally hate the term “False labor”.
After a week of my belly dance, I called it a wrap, almost half hearted because I knew I’d not see my little Josef for at least 3 days (COVID restrictions for kids) I got a cab to the hospital once Josef was in bed. After an exhausting night at the hospital of walking in circles and humming at every contraction. I feel asleep, like I was knocked in the head for all of fifteen minutes. Woke up like I never had a single contraction not even a squeeze. I had to head home, birthing rooms are extremely busy and I was holding one up for no good reason.
I was an emotional wreck! I couldn’t shake it of, overwhelming disappointment, loss of confidence, mostly sad. I came home, hugged my little boy and buried myself under my blanket. I refused to come out. I struggled to eat or drink. I felt like I had failed. It was a weird day. I was still very pregnant but embarrassed that I couldn’t give birth. My confidence was shattered.
On the 3rd of September I had my last routine appointment at the gynaecologist, who with one look said you need to get to the hospital. I convinced him it’s just an off rhythm contraction which will fizzle out. He was so worried for my casual “cool-as-a-cucumber” attitude, he was packing up to drop me to the hospital himself. I insisted on heading home and making dinner for my Josef. After dinner I agreed to get a ride to the hospital.
It is now 9:30pm on the 3rd of September. My midwife was so sweet she did all the paperwork my husband would’ve done. Oh and did I mention my poor husband couldn’t be at the hospital? It’s a 2020 problem too late and too risky to get a babysitter to watch Josef. I was induced labour a little after 10:30pm and my midwife had a fun story to tell me while we waited out my contraction. Who knows what the story was or how fun it was? At 11:45pm my baby was born. It all happened so quickly I didn’t even have time to wrap my head around the pain, I even cracked a molar in the bargain.
To initiate the birth registration I had to finalise on the name and when asked if it would be Niklaus or Danielle. I said, “ It depends, do I have a daughter or another son?”










