Painful Birth - Tumblr Posts
Hear me out, your partner helps you with all the natural strategies - massaging your back, guiding your breathing - convinces you to keep trying, keep trying even as you start to beg for it to be over.
“Please, take it away”, you beg. “I want an epiduralll!”
“Oh I know baby,” your partner reassures you. “But we have to wait a little longer. Remember, the doctors said not to call until you’re at *least* 6 centimetres. Besides - transition is the truly painful part of labour, and that’s not until 7cm - that’s when the epidural is really needed”
You groan.
“Aww it’s okay babe, you can just relax with me for a little longer. When it’s time, if we need to we’ll call the doctor in and if you still want it when he gets here you can have the epidural”
True to his word, your partner diligently massages, guides you through breathing exercises, encourages the deep, low, bellowing moans that help your body to open, open, open for your baby, with as little resistance as possible. His soothing hands and grounding words and gorgeous body really do help. Even so, every time you brave him plunging his fingers deep inside you - pressing wide against your cervix to check your progress - you are devastated by how far you have left to go.. You move to the shower, let the jets of warm water pelt down on your lower back. On your hands and knees, your lover in front of you, your lips meet and you moan, then whine into his mouth as the contractions roll through you. Over and over, stronger and stronger, deeper and deeper.
“Please, please, baby I have to be at 6cm, I have to be!”
A quick check, a phone call, and a regretful informing that the doctor will be there as soon as possible, he’ll be finishing up in surgery and will head right over.
The news crushes you, but your partner is filled with renewed vigour, new energy.
“It’s good news, in a way babe. Let’s experience this a little longer, there’s more things we can try”
He gets you towelled off, swaying through a contraction, and then transferred onto the bed. Fully naked and kneeling completely exposed. Your hubby slides in under you and, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, brings his mouth to your breast.
“Oh babe, what are you doing?”
“Lean into it baby, relax, distract yourself while you work through this phase of labour”. He comes to massage your other breast - alternating suckling on each. He starts off gentle, but gradually, passionately, his suckling intensifies.
“Oh babe, that feels so good- *gasp*-
A sharp inhale as he starts massaging your clot, tickling and teasing and rubbing and *tantalising* you.
Pulling away from your tit, he moans, “you’re so sexy like this”. And his suckling doubles down as your contractions take you away.
Soon you’re a screaming mess, your lovers encouragements and gentle touch make the deep, aching pain only just barely tolerable - you are floundering, not coping. A sobbing, groaning, whining, keening mess, begging for an epidural for over an hour. Your contractions had worsened in record time though… you didn’t know what you would have done to get through the pain without your husbands voracious suckling on your nipples to distract you. He really was the most selfless birth companion.
Finally, the dishevelled anaesthetist arrives, and you weep with long-awaited relief. “One final check!” The anaesthetist announced apologetically, inserting his gloved fingers, “in a few minutes you won’t be feeling a- oh.” His probing doubles in intensity, and he frowns, sucking air in through his teeth.
“What?!” You whine, desperate for his ministrations in your birth canal to end, desperate for this all to be over.
“Good news! You’re about to have a baby! You’re ten centimetres dilated momma it’s time to start pushing!”
The doctors artificial cheer masks the sinister message for a moment. Your husband clarifies, overcome with glee:
“Wow babe! You’re at 10cm already! You’re too late for the epidural, but this is great news! I knew you were meant to deliver naturally”.
Your husband thanks the doctor on his way out the door then returns to your sobbing form. It only takes two good pushes for the pain to break you as your pussy is set on fire by the ginormous head opening you up, deep inside.
“I can’t do this!” You scream.
And then there is your husband. Forcing you to hold his gaze as he tells you you were built for this. How your purpose in life was to bring his babies into the world, and to experience that process exactly as nature intended.
“This is important for you, baby”
“What do you mean?!” I wailed at him, screaming as my baby’s head battered it’s way down my overstretched canal.
“It’s important you experience this. That you have been brought to the edge of what you can handle, what you can cope with. This is the transformative power of birth. Right now, it probably feels like your vagina is being ripped in half, that it can’t stretch an inch more. And yet your baby’s head is only just starting to show, you’re nowhere near a full crown. Soon, you will reach your limit, but birth will take you past that limit. Show you what you’re really capable of.
… so this is it, baby. Spread your legs, push into that pain, and when it gets too much, go deeper. You need to let go of your fear of birth and experience the power, and the pleasure of what lies on the other side of “too much”.”
Spoiler alert: it’s an oversized baby, an overstretched pussy, and a very happy husband
7 cm dilated.
what happens at 7 cm?
contractions really, really hurt. you don’t have a lot of rest between your contractions anymore, if at all. you can’t push either, only wait. you have nothing you can do to speed things along.
you can continue to moan and thrash, trying to get through each contraction, helplessly waiting to dilate. you can try changing positions until you’re too exhausted to move any more. or you can ask to be checked, and then after you scream through having fingers jammed up your vagina, they tell you to keep waiting.
the pain is already unimaginable and yet you know it will have to hurt a lot more before you can push. you just want it to be over and you might still have hours of this ahead of you.
do you regret going natural? do you beg for the epidural? or do you keep at it?
Hear me out, your partner helps you with all the natural strategies - massaging your back, guiding your breathing - convinces you to keep trying, keep trying even as you start to beg for it to be over.
“Please, take it away”, you beg. “I want an epiduralll!”
“Oh I know baby,” your partner reassures you. “But we have to wait a little longer. Remember, the doctors said not to call until you’re at *least* 6 centimetres. Besides - transition is the truly painful part of labour, and that’s not until 7cm - that’s when the epidural is really needed”
You groan.
“Aww it’s okay babe, you can just relax with me for a little longer. When it’s time, if we need to we’ll call the doctor in and if you still want it when he gets here you can have the epidural”
True to his word, your partner diligently massages, guides you through breathing exercises, encourages the deep, low, bellowing moans that help your body to open, open, open for your baby, with as little resistance as possible. His soothing hands and grounding words and gorgeous body really do help. Even so, every time you brave him plunging his fingers deep inside you - pressing wide against your cervix to check your progress - you are devastated by how far you have left to go.. You move to the shower, let the jets of warm water pelt down on your lower back. On your hands and knees, your lover in front of you, your lips meet and you moan, then whine into his mouth as the contractions roll through you. Over and over, stronger and stronger, deeper and deeper.
“Please, please, baby I have to be at 6cm, I have to be!”
A quick check, a phone call, and a regretful informing that the doctor will be there as soon as possible, he’ll be finishing up in surgery and will head right over.
The news crushes you, but your partner is filled with renewed vigour, new energy.
“It’s good news, in a way babe. Let’s experience this a little longer, there’s more things we can try”
He gets you towelled off, swaying through a contraction, and then transferred onto the bed. Fully naked and kneeling completely exposed. Your hubby slides in under you and, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, brings his mouth to your breast.
“Oh babe, what are you doing?”
“Lean into it baby, relax, distract yourself while you work through this phase of labour”. He comes to massage your other breast - alternating suckling on each. He starts off gentle, but gradually, passionately, his suckling intensifies.
“Oh babe, that feels so good- *gasp*-
A sharp inhale as he starts massaging your clot, tickling and teasing and rubbing and *tantalising* you.
Pulling away from your tit, he moans, “you’re so sexy like this”. And his suckling doubles down as your contractions take you away.
Soon you’re a screaming mess, your lovers encouragements and gentle touch make the deep, aching pain only just barely tolerable - you are floundering, not coping. A sobbing, groaning, whining, keening mess, begging for an epidural for over an hour. Your contractions had worsened in record time though… you didn’t know what you would have done to get through the pain without your husbands voracious suckling on your nipples to distract you. He really was the most selfless birth companion.
Finally, the dishevelled anaesthetist arrives, and you weep with long-awaited relief. “One final check!” The anaesthetist announced apologetically, inserting his gloved fingers, “in a few minutes you won’t be feeling a- oh.” His probing doubles in intensity, and he frowns, sucking air in through his teeth.
“What?!” You whine, desperate for his ministrations in your birth canal to end, desperate for this all to be over.
“Good news! You’re about to have a baby! You’re ten centimetres dilated momma it’s time to start pushing!”
The doctors artificial cheer masks the sinister message for a moment. Your husband clarifies, overcome with glee:
“Wow babe! You’re at 10cm already! You’re too late for the epidural, but this is great news! I knew you were meant to deliver naturally”.
Your husband thanks the doctor on his way out the door then returns to your sobbing form. It only takes two good pushes for the pain to break you as your pussy is set on fire by the ginormous head opening you up, deep inside.
“I can’t do this!” You scream.
And then there is your husband. Forcing you to hold his gaze as he tells you you were built for this. How your purpose in life was to bring his babies into the world, and to experience that process exactly as nature intended.
“This is important for you, baby”
“What do you mean?!” I wailed at him, screaming as my baby’s head battered it’s way down my overstretched canal.
“It’s important you experience this. That you have been brought to the edge of what you can handle, what you can cope with. This is the transformative power of birth. Right now, it probably feels like your vagina is being ripped in half, that it can’t stretch an inch more. And yet your baby’s head is only just starting to show, you’re nowhere near a full crown. Soon, you will reach your limit, but birth will take you past that limit. Show you what you’re really capable of.
… so this is it, baby. Spread your legs, push into that pain, and when it gets too much, go deeper. You need to let go of your fear of birth and experience the power, and the pleasure of what lies on the other side of “too much”.”
Spoiler alert: it’s an oversized baby, an overstretched pussy, and a very happy husband
7 cm dilated.
what happens at 7 cm?
contractions really, really hurt. you don’t have a lot of rest between your contractions anymore, if at all. you can’t push either, only wait. you have nothing you can do to speed things along.
you can continue to moan and thrash, trying to get through each contraction, helplessly waiting to dilate. you can try changing positions until you’re too exhausted to move any more. or you can ask to be checked, and then after you scream through having fingers jammed up your vagina, they tell you to keep waiting.
the pain is already unimaginable and yet you know it will have to hurt a lot more before you can push. you just want it to be over and you might still have hours of this ahead of you.
do you regret going natural? do you beg for the epidural? or do you keep at it?
The way I wanna keep a pretty cow like this forever, trapped in that agonising crown.
Overwhelmed.
Hurting
So open for me.
🥵
