Why I remember childbirth

People say you forget the pain of childbirth. “You don’t remember it,” they say, as though that’s a good thing, as though that’s consoling. About 24 hours after I had gone into labour I made a pact with myself to never forgot the horror of giving birth.  

I made a decision to remember what it’s like to feel you simply can’t do another contraction and yet have to do it again and again and again – cruel,  relentless, merciless, on and on and on for 48 hours.

Re-living labour every year

This time six years ago, I was in hospital waiting to see my consultant to discuss being induced.  Tomorrow is the day I took my first prostin.  The day after that I took my second and my third.  On the fourth day, I went into labour.  On the fifth day I was still in labour.  On the sixth day my son was born.

I re-live it every year.  And as I do I salute, with awe, our great-grandmothers and great-great-grandmothers and women today,  in some parts of the world, for whom there is more than a slim chance that death will be the outcome of their labours.

Each May in its fresh, lime greenness and sweet, exuberant blossoming, I remember the savage cost of new life.



I also remember it was worth it.


Comments: 2

  1. Thug says:

    Hallo Jox
    Yes to all of that! And isn’t it so good that you can re-member the pain of bringing forth Rapha in to the world, and all that that signifies, without actually having to feel it again !!
    What a woman. What a boy.

  2. Indeed, Thug. (That’s a funny name you’ve got. Are you really a thug?) One of the consolations of only having one child is that you don’t have to do it all over again, this time knowing what it’s like for real.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *