I have been asked to publish a column at Seven Starling, a platform for maternal mental health. The blog below was initially published August 22nd, 2022.
I was the type of person who said she wanted to feel the “raw pain” of an unmedicated birth. I imagined the birth of my child would take place in a dimly lit, lavender scented room, producing primal moans and feeling like an earth goddess fulfilling her female destiny. For some reason, Phil Collins’ “You’ll be in my Heart,” was to be the soundtrack for this trippy experience.
I did all the groundwork- I got a doula, I read a book about the inner life of the fetus while in the womb (and proceeded to freak out when I was freaking out because according the book I was stressing out the baby), I brushed up on my Gentle Parenting knowledge, and mainly - I trusted that I could take this on. Unmedicated.
In reality, my water broke twenty minutes after my husband left for a bar mitzvah. Turning the car right around, he came back to our one-bedroom apartment, and practically ran through the front door, like a blue-suited yarmulke-wearing Kool-Aid man. He collected our things, mumbling, “This is fine. Everything is fine.” I put on my finest postpartum absorbent panties, and thought to myself…
“So far, I can take this.”
Well, define this.