My first birth

My daughter turned 18 years old this month. Just like that I am the mother of an adult, how crazy is that? It's like they say, it feels like a lifetime ago, but it also feels like yesterday. It only felt fitting to end the month with the story of her birth.

The pregnancy with my daughter was very unplanned, I was 22 and lived in a different country. I was in a very unhealthy off again, on again relationship with her father. But when I found out I was pregnant there was no doubt, I was keeping the baby. My initial plan was to continue my pregnancy where I was, but after a blood test showed increased risk for Down Syndrome I decided I wanted to be in Sweden with the support of the Swedish health care system. The increased risk for DS turned out to be wrong as my gestation was miscalculated, once that was corrected the risk was extremely low.

Half way though my pregnancy I moved back to Sweden. The pregnancy had its ups and downs. I had morning sickness until week 27! Luckily it was only in the morning until about noon. And one day it just disappeared and never came back. I initially didn't believe it when it didn't show up, but was so happy when a few days had passed without nausea.

I lived with my sister through the pregnancy which was great. My sister did not have any children at the time but was still an amazing support through it all. Her and I attended a prenatal class together, and I went to a group for single moms. My belly grew and I mostly enjoyed seeing my body change. The day I saw that I had gotten stretch marks I allowed myself to cry for one hour and then I told myself it was enough. It was of course a big change for me, being 22 I had quite recently gotten used to my adult body.

Nine months pregnant.

“It was of course a big change for me, being 22 I had quite recently gotten used to my adult body. ”

Two weeks or so before my due date my belly measured a bit small for my gestation at my prenatal visit so the midwife sent me to a check up at the hospital. I got to lay in a CTG and they did an ultrasound. I got to go home but was scheduled for regular check ups in the coming days. One day one doctor said "Next time we want to induce you.” Only for my sister and I arrive to that appointment to hear “No, we can wait.” by the next doctor. The next check up I went to by myself, it was a Friday the 13th and my due date. This time the doctor wanted to induce me, but I wasn't prepared for it at all. So I went home, got my things and picked up my sister from work. I was told the induction could take all weekend and they didn't want to wait until Monday as my baby measured small. I already had some cramping by then from the vaginal exam the doctor had performed when I had been to my check up earlier that day.

When we "checked in” to the hospital; overnight bags, CD player (it was 2006, mind you), books and lots of food for our weekend stay we got to meet a doctor who was a former school friend of my sister's. I'd met him previously at one of my check ups. He really wanted to care for me because he knew my sister so he placed the "tampon” with prostaglandin gel by my cervix. This was used to mature my cervix. [I didn't know what I know now, but I'm guessing my cervix was long and not dilated, that's why the vaginal exam had been painful and why they chose this method of induction.]

Not long after this was placed did my cramping get more and more intense. Contractions came. I remember going to the bathroom to pooping twice. I also had to sit down on the floor to handle the contractions when my sister and I were about to eat. I believe this was around three or four in the afternoon. Things moved along fast. The last song I heard on the radio was "Vi drar till Malmö.” with Timbaktu and then I needed to throw up the green apple I had just eaten. My sister has a phobia of throwing up so she bolted out. I had included this in my birth preferences so the staff were very helpful. Afterwards my sister returned to my side quickly though. The contractions were so intense that they gave me a medication called Bricanyl [this helps to relax the muscles of the cervix and space out contractions] three times. Somewhere in between Bricanyl I was wheeled to the delivery ward. I was connected to the CTG machine all the time which was very limiting. I sat in the bed and leaned back during the breaks, and during each contraction I sat up straight in the bed and breathed. In through the nose, out through the mouth - like blowing out a candle, softly, just like I had learned at my prenatal classes.

I had met that Midwife that cared for me before during a previous viewing of the delivery ward, so I felt safe. It meant a lot to be greeted by a familiar face. The Midwife suggested we remove the "tampon” and artificially ruptured the membranes. I remember how the warm fluid spread underneath me in the bed.

The contractions carried on and it was intense. My sister helped my to stay focused on my breathing, barely leaving my side. I used a TNS machine, that sometimes was more annoying than helpful, as my pain relief. My sister helped me go to the bathroom and put the cords of the CTG machine around my neck. She was my rock! As the evening carried on she started getting tired and she wanted to call in my (then) friend Sarah as well as go get her camera upstairs in our room. Cell phones weren't allowed in the delivery room back then so she had to leave. She left me with the night shift Midwife who had a Finnish Swedish accent, this made me feel safe as the Midwife I had in prenatal care also had a Finnish Swedish accent and I liked her very much. She had been supportive from the first time I had met her, encouraged me by saying I was a at a great age to give birth. "Physically 20 is the best age to give birth,”she had told me. And she had connected me to the group for single moms. Even after my daughter was born, at my postnatal check up she gave me great advice that I remember to this day.

With my sister gone I didn't feel as safe as I did with her there. It felt like she was gone forever. I guess I must have changed how I sounded because the Midwife got adamant about moving me to the birthing bed and doing a vaginal exam. I really didn't want to do a vaginal exam because laying on my back intensified everything and made me feel panicked. I remember making these sounds that I didn't recognize, my body just took over. The Midwife did the exam and said it was time for me to give birth, I needed to change positions. "Can't I just sit here?” I said. They laughed. "The baby can't come out if you sit like that!” I think my sister had returned at this point. I was very tired. The assistant nurse placed her hand lightly on my shoulder each contraction, I hated that! But I had no energy to tell her to stop touching me.

They helped me to turn on to my knees and I leaned against the elevated top of the bed. The Midwife placed a warm cloth in my vaginal area, it was soothing. Each contraction I pushed. I remember my body naturally wanting to arch my back, but the assistant nurse kept telling me I need to tuck my pelvis, I couldn't control it though, my body was doing it's own thing. During the pushing my friend Sarah arrived. Not long thereafter the Midwife said "We can see dark hair when you push.” The assistant nurse responded "We would have been surprised if it was anything but dark.” and giggled a bit. When it was five minutes to midnight the Midwife said "This baby won't be born on Friday the 13th.” I remember looking up onto the clock on the wall. It felt like nothing was happening, I would never give birth. And then 20 minutes later my daughter was born. Somehow I was moved from my knees on to my back and my screaming baby was placed on my chest. I sighed with relief. It was over.

I wasn't very impressed with my daughter, she was this small alien thing that looked like her dad. But at the same time I felt so connected to her. The birth of the placenta was pretty quick, I wasn't given synthetic oxytocin. I opted out of seeing the placenta, which of course I regret still. I needed only two stitches, which was taken care of quickly.

My daughter a few minutes old.

I don't remember breastfeeding for the first time, but I do remember my sister dressing my daughter while I took a shower. She put her in this yellow overall with a giraffe that I had bought at H&M. Back then all newborns were photographed by the hospital and put on a website so relatives could see them there as phones were not allowed. I can't remember if camera phones was a thing in 2006?

I remember the staff saying it was time to go back to my room upstairs and I looked at them with disbelief "Do I have to walk?” They laughed an brought me upstairs in the bed.

The first night with my daughter the staff wanted me to have her in the bed with me, but I was too scared to sleep with her so they put her in a basinet. I kept on waking up by every little whimper to check on her. It was crazy how I knew that she was now outside my body! I spent another night in the hospital, not asking the staff for any help really. I asked my mom to come and watch her so I could shower. The thought of bringing her with me to the bathroom didn't occur to me! After the second morning my sister and her boyfriend brought us home.

The birth of my daughter was empowering. I felt so strong after that experience, like I had been a part of a rite of passage into a group I had admired before. My birthing experience was something I looked back on later in life and would use as a motivator “You gave birth, you can handle this, come on now.” It was very positive, yet intense, induced birth. Needless to say we didn't get to read any of the books we had brought for the weekend.