DotMoms: Circle of encouragement

By Lana

It was 5.15 pm and they were strapping my legs into the stirrups of the hospital bed. I'd just been moved into the delivery room after five hours of contractions. They were starting to get serious. Not simply the searing pain shooting through my insides and back; now it felt like there was something clenching hard inside me, pushing down fiercely. I grasped the bed rail and wailed as they wheeled me across the hall.

Time for the big push. The doctor told me to push hard with every contraction. I tried. I hung onto the sides of the bed, leaned up and gave the biggest grunts of my life with each round. I let out a holler with each push. The doctor told me to stop screaming and keep my lips closed, so that all the energy could go down instead of escaping out of my mouth. I said I'd try, but all I wanted to do was scream.

On the next big push I kept my mouth shut tight, held my breath and bore down with all my might. Oh how I was dying to scream. At the same time, a nurse on each side of me held up my head and shoulders, rubbing my shoulders gently at the same time, and as I pushed silently they and the doctor all let out a long yell in unison. I was so tired but the noise surrounding me gave me strength.

A minute later my body seized up again, and again I pushed, suppressing the scream that was desperate to escape. The doctor and nurses yelled again. I felt wrapped in their sound, which was soothing and helped me to give it all that I had.

More contractions. More long yells. Then the doctor said he could see the crown. The 30 seconds before the next contraction felt endless. Then one more big, horrendous push, with the nurses pressing my belly, and suddenly I felt a total release. I looked down and all I could see were two pinky-blue feet waving in the air, the baby’s body being held below my line of sight.

At 5.46 pm my baby boy was born. And it was he who was screaming now.