What Does Child Labor Feel Like?

Childbirth is shrouded in secrecy, so questions about what labor really feels like often go unanswered. We all know that it hurts like hell, but only those who have gone through it really know what that even means. And much of what happens during birth--vomiting, confronting your own mortality, losing bladder control--is taboo to discuss. So women enter into one of the most intense experiences of their life unprepared and frightened.

When I told everyone I wanted to have a natural birth, people were adamant that I couldn't do it. They were equally insistent that birth on my terms--no hospital gown, basic respect for my wishes, a quiet and peaceful room--was impossible, and that expecting otherwise meant I was naive and spoiled.

They were wrong. So if you're here because you're considering a natural birth, know that you can do it. Child labor is painful, but it's not the horror many people want you to believe it is. That's especially true if you have a supportive care team (and if you don't, you need to fire your doctor or midwife yesterday).

I spent my entire pregnancy Googling what childbirth feels like, and the answers I got were unsatisfactory. Every woman is different. Every birth is different, and we all perceive pain differently. No one can give anyone else a fully reliable picture of childbirth, since most of us only give birth a few times. But if women know what to expect, they may be better equipped to cope. And no woman deserves to enter motherhood terrified and intimidated. So here, in as much detail as I can manage, is what labor felt like for me. If you want to get a more general idea of what to expect from childbirth, you might be better off reading my birth story.

Why We're Choosing a Natural, Unmedicated Birth

A decade before I got pregnant, I knew I wanted a natural birth. At first, my reason was superficial and a bit silly: I liked the idea of doing something challenging. I saw an unmedicated birth as akin to hiking Mt. Everest or winning a Pulitzer--something very challenging that not everyone is able to do.

When people began to tell me how stupid I was for considering a natural birth, my research began in earnest. That's when I realized that the value of a natural birth is much deeper than just surviving a challenge and showing people I could do something they think I cannot. Natural birth offers numerous health advantages, and it more neatly matches my feminist values.

My decision to have an unmedicated birth has been met with surprising pushback. A lot of people insist it is simply impossible, even though it's what millions of women have done for as long as there have been women. Others become immediately angry or defensive. There's a lot of judgment and blame in birth culture, and I suspect that guilt also plays a role. Women are taught that, no matter what they do as mothers, it's wrong. So when a woman hears my plans for a natural birth, she may see it as an attack on her own birth choices. Because so many women are deprived of any choice at all when they give birth, simply hearing about another woman's plans may trigger feelings of regret, victimization, and inadequacy.

I'm not going to defend my choices any more, and I'm not going to engage in arguments that make everyone involved feel terrible. Birth should be a happy event, not a feud over how best to birth a child. And really, my answer to queries about why I'm having a natural birth should end there: because I want to. Because it's my right. Because it's no one's god damn business.

Like the women who feel judged and shamed for their medicated births, I too often feel defensive. So here's why I'm choosing a natural birth.