What Does Giving Birth Feel Like?

I’ve heard childbirth described as “painful.” I think that this offers no more insight into birth than chocolate could be comprehended by use of the word “delicious.” Both are judgments, not descriptions.

There are women who have pain-free births. There are women who don’t like chocolate. I am not one of them.  If you want someone to tell you “Birthis peaceful.” or, “Your body will open like a flower.” I suggest that you stop reading now.

Analogies are often the best way to grasp the unknown. I offer two; the first is making love. Do you remember the very first time you made love? Were you scared? Did you know what to do and expect before you started?Birthis like making love. Even if you’ve never done or seen it before, you know how. Your body teaches you along the way. It tells you clearly and immediately what works and what doesn’t. Just as one would not want to forgo the joy and pleasure of making love because of fear of discomfort and pain of losing ones virginity so too is it a loss to numb oneself to the full experience of birth. Just as a baby can be conceived through making love, sex, or rape; so too can a baby be born. Feeling respected, supported and loved makes a huge difference.

My second analogy is a bowel movement. A very big bowel movement. I know, it’s not what you want to hear but how could it be anything different? Before having children, I had the misfortunate experience of seeing a home movie filmed from the rear end of a woman who gave birth on all fours. Her anus literally went from an “innie” to an “outie.” Then and there, I promised myself that I would never give birth in that position. When my time came (I stayed upright, thank you.) the actual experience felt even stronger than the visual had hinted.  It felt like I was passing the biggest BM ever. I was so grateful to be in an upright kneeling position; not because of anal shyness (I was shameless) but because I’m certain that it would have been physically impossible to get that baby out without the leverage that it afforded. Imagine attempting to have a BM on your back, with masked doctors and nurses around you, your legs up in the air and bright lights shining down between them. Sound fun? If not, don’t assume the position.

I’ve had three babies, two by Cesarean and one by natural birth. The Cesareans sucked. Though I didn’t feel pain during the procedure, the surgeries were miserable and the recoveries awful. Natural birth rocked my world. It hurt more than I thought possible. I fought to keep control of myself, to be strong enough to do it, to not break. It was only when I when I surrendered that the most remarkable thing happened. The pain disappeared. It was replaced by the most beautiful and sensual experience I have ever experienced. Pleasure greater than any I had ever known took its place. If I could bottle the feeling, compress it into pill form, it would be the most addictive drug on the planet.

“Is birth painful?” You want to know.  That answer is easy because we all understand pain. We have experienced it. Yes.Birthhurts. It’s the pleasure that’s impossible to share with you. I have no words to describe it. There are no comparables. I crave it with desire that’s greater than my need for chocolate, sex or fine wine.

There is power that comes to women when they give birth. They don’t ask for it, it simply invades them. Accumulates like clouds on the horizon and passes through, carrying the child with it. – Sheryl Feldman

About Roanna Rosewood

For as long as I can remember, I wanted one thing: a baby. The eldest of five children, I got plenty of hands-on experience. I knew how to change diapers, rock little ones to sleep and feed babies. But nobody told me about birth. I assumed it to be no more than the unfortunate means-to-a-baby. It wasn’t until I was in full-on labor that I glimpsed the power of birth. Almost as quickly as I did, they rushed in to “save me,” to relieve the pain and cut my baby from my body. When it was over, I had a beautiful baby boy but had lost a part of myself. I began to crave birth. I battled for my birth right for four years. I endured two Cesareans, fought three doctors, two midwives and endless inner demons before achieving a home birth. It was the single most pleasurable moment of my life. Let me say that again: giving birth was the single most pleasurable moment of my life. And I live a pretty pleasurable life. I’ve galloped on horseback through high mountain deserts, been sailing around the Caribbean and diving with dolphins and giant sea turtles. I’ve purchased perfume in exotic markets in Cairo and ridden a mechanical bull in a Colorado bar. I laugh, cry, knit and dance with the most-wonderful of girlfriends a woman could have. My closet is full of fabulous clothes and sexy boots. But none of these things has brought me as much exquisite pleasure as giving birth to my daughter. I have accomplished “important” things. I am the mother of the three incredible children. I’ve worked and volunteered for non-profit organizations, mentored and taught children and women and traveled to Northern Uganda to assist survivors of war give birth. I own businesses, invest in real estate and have had the privilege and responsibility of employing hundreds of people. But none of these accomplishments has been as empowering or life-changing as giving birth to my daughter. Twenty years ago, while watching blood drip down my own freshly-sliced wrists, I chose to put the razorblade down, embrace life and face my fears. To this end, I’ve parasailed off of Alaskan mountains, fire-walked on hot coals and watched my life flash before my eyes as my lungs filled with water. But none of these moments terrified me as much as giving birth to my daughter. I’ve experimented with psychedelic drugs and met an angel in a tunnel of blue light. I’ve explored ancient Myan ruins and the depths of a pyramid. I’ve chanted with priests, davened with rabbis, danced with Sufis, sat with Buddhist monks, sweated with shamans, studied with psychics and accepted a gift from a kahuna. But none of these experiences brought me as close to The Divine as giving birth to my daughter. I live a juicy, passionate and engaged life. But I am not content. My heart pulses a message much more important than my own small existence: Women are strong. It proclaims. Birth is our rite, our connection to The Divine. Living this, speaking it and writing it is my purpose: an endless war-chant coursing through my veins and pouring through my fingertips to you.
This entry was posted in Birth, Cesarean, Home Birth, Natural Birth, pain in labor, Poop, VBAC. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to What Does Giving Birth Feel Like?

  1. Anonymous says:

    Thank you thank you thank you for sharing your intellegent honesty and powerful both wisdom with the world.

  2. jodhmouffcho says:

    Intresting. I would like details!

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