My (Almost) Completely Normal Pregnancy and Childbirth Story (SFW)

No, I'm not going to give you all of the bloody and graphic details. Hell, that's kind of the point. You know what sucks? Human social psychology sucks. We have such bizarre idiosyncrasies which yes, make a certain amount of sense if you squint and because evolution and blah blah blah. One of those idiosyncrasies I hate is that our desire for story-telling also skews our sense of reality. We start to believe we are the heroes in our own stories instead of flawed, real individuals. We start to believe that outliers are acceptable benchmarks for our own worth and reality.

The things I believed about pregnancy and childbirth were borne from this quirk of human psychology. I've heard it all, "OMG I was the sickiest sicky sick who ever sicked from the moment sperm met egg to even after baby was out" "OMG that child tore me from hole to hole on the way out" "WORST EXPERIENCE EVER OMG". Here's the thing: outliers happen. Horribly symptomatic pregnancies happen. Horrific childbirth experiences combined with sub par medicine is mostly why maternal mortality had been so high until our more recent history. These are valid and real experiences and I don't want to take anything away from the birth-givers who experience them. However, they're also pretty much the only stories you ever hear. You know, because they're actually stories. You know what's not a story? "Yeah, I got pregnant and then not much happened except I was pregnant and then I had a completely normal labor and delivery and now I'm here and so's my child." No one cares. No one wants to hear about that, so no one does, including me.

Well, kind of. Part of the work I do sometimes necessitates asking patients about what they know about their own gestation and birth (or, more often, their parents will answer those questions) or their personal experiences being pregnant with and giving birth to their children. Only there have I ever really heard more consistently stories of, "Yeah, nothing happened except I was pregnant and then I gave birth. Woo."

So, all of that to say this: I'm telling my completely normal pregnancy and child birth story because they're never told and I wish I had heard more of these. Why? Well, you could say that I was vicariously traumatized by all of the awful pregnancy and childbirth stories I'd heard of over the years. I understandably believed pregnancy was scary and childbirth was on par with Spanish Inquisition-like torture. It wasn't like that for me. It isn't for a lot of people, but you never get to hear about that, really.

I didn't know I was pregnant for the first few weeks, which is normal. This is the one part that was not very normal: the reason I didn't know is because my 99.9% effective and intact birth control failed. The sheer odds there are mind-boggling but I won't get into why, beyond the 99.9% effective rate, this just wasn't likely. I even had a period, but I have been pretty regular and predictable since I was twelve years old barring extreme periods of stress and those times I had to take the morning after pill (what a hell of a drug). I was divorcing from my husband at the time, and he had quietly moved out of our bedroom to take up residence in the guest room. He also took it upon himself to start moving through the house and getting rid of stuff, mostly without consulting me. This included some almost-expired pregnancy tests. Instead of confronting him about this I figured it wasn't worth the fight and just fished one of the tests out of the bathroom trash to use on a whim. My period had bee a bit strange, anyway.

I was shocked, dumb-founded, and confused when a faint blue line appeared. Uuuhhh... what does a faint blue line mean? I hopped on Google and asked. I hopped on Messenger and asked. My lovely friend Kate consulted her Facebook groups and came back to me with an honest answer: I was probably pregnant, and needed to contact my doctor right away. I reached out to a limited number of friends because I was understandably panicking. I swore them to secrecy. I went to the doctor and they took my blood but this was Memorial Day weekend, so they informed me that even though I came in on a Friday and they would normally have the results the next day, in this case I would have to wait until Tuesday. Thankfully the nurse took pity on me and conspiratorially informed me that if I called the on-call service the following day and made it sound like knowing the test results was an emergency I could get the results over the phone on Saturday. I did and obviously I was.

The next couple of weeks were tense and stressful. I was informed that the pregnancy was at risk because of my birth control, and when they pulled it there was a chance I could miscarry. By the time they told me this I already felt protective of this bundle of cells that was just a few weeks old, but I tried to be logical and remain calm in the knowledge that it wasn't up to me if I miscarried or not. Even if I kept the birth control in there was not only still a chance for miscarriage but other complications. The choice was clear. We pulled it. My provider was amused by the revelation that my little bundle of cells had actually pushed the birth control down to make room while it grew, making the extraction that much easier. It barely registered physically for me.

From there the weeks became a blur, mostly because my divorce was kicked into high gear and my one and only true pregnancy symptom, sheer exhaustion, made me nap a lot during that time. I craved ice cream something fierce and I quickly discovered why using an app to track my pregnancy: apparently at the time my baby's skeleton was the fastest thing to grow. My check-ups were completely routine and everything pointed to a healthy pregnancy and baby up to the day I was induced.

The weekend before was my one year anniversary with my girlfriend. I felt bad, being so massively pregnant that I could hardly enjoy our nice dinner together because, I thought, I had the worst case of gas since my gastric bypass surgery. This bad gas seemed to pass by the next day. When I was induced, I didn't even realize I had contractions because I felt exactly the same way I did the night of my anniversary. It took hours for the contractions to ramp up to the point that I was reminded of the worst period cramps I had become accustomed to over the years. That's when I tapped out and asked for the epidural which was heavenly. I was comfortable for a while. Twelve hours after we came to the hospital I was informed it was time to push.

My partner was on one of my legs and my girlfriend on the other when the nurse started coaching me through pushing. I felt like I wasn't getting anywhere, but I kept at it with encouragement from my partners and the nurse. I mostly kept my eyes closed and tried to concentrate within on my body. They informed me of my progress but I kept the focus on me and my body. I tried not to think too much about the fact that I was about to meet my child for the first time. A hour later, they told me they were finally here. I couldn't open my eyes at first. I couldn't believe it. This was the last moment I was not going to be the mother of a completely separate person who was not in my body.

When I looked down, I only saw the top of my child's head as they laid them down on me and cleaned them up. I had been hearing the soul-piercing screeches of children in the labor and delivery ward all day but theirs was half the volume and they settled down rather quickly once they were in my embrace. I was just shocked. There they were, a real person. I got to hold them and do skin-to-skin for the first hour of their life while my partners and the staff praised me for how well I did. By all accounts, it was the most ideal labor and delivery they had seen. I was blessed.

That's my story. It isn't exciting or gory, but not every birth story is. That's the whole point.

Dear Ellis: A Word Before You Arrive

Dear Ellis,

Let me start by saying thank you. You gave me the best, easiest pregnancy I never heard of. You see, people like to tell stories of strange and dramatic pregnancy-related events and that used to scare me. Yeah, I was really tired a lot but otherwise you've taken it completely easy on me. You had me really worried in the beginning because I wasn't expecting you and I just worry a lot, but since you were as big as a gummy bear you've given me no problem at all.

What you did give me was the strength to move on and keep trying during a difficult time in my life. I've not always been good about doing things for myself purely for myself. It was much easier to think about what was best for you. I was able to keep my stress low and make the decisions I had to because I was always thinking about you. Yes, there was a particularly difficult couple of months when I tried to stop medicine to see if I could do that for you, but by then you would wiggle to remind me why I had to keep fighting.

I used to be scared about pregnancy, childbirth, and mommyhood but ever since I knew you would be coming that's mostly gone away. I used to think I'd be emotional and out of control, but you helped me realize that I am still always me and I can trust myself. I used to worry that I'd be annoyed by your kicking and miserable about pregnancy side-effects but you made me smile every time I felt you move and hey, we could all use more naps sometimes, right?

I'm just so excited to meet you! I know you're going to be loved, and we'll never be alone in any of this. So many people are already loving you and excited to see what kind of person you're going to be, including me of course. I just know you'll be a good baby and an amazing person and I'm honored to be your mommy through it all.

Be seeing you soon,

Momma