Bringing Bennett into this world is the single hardest thing I have been through to date. And honestly, this surprised me.

You see, when I was pregnant with Asher, I felt like I was the poster child for pregnancy. I LOVED being pregnant, I didn’t have any morning sickness and the bigger I got the more comfortable I felt. In fact, I had never felt more beautiful.

Being pregnant with Bennett, was a whole different story. While, I readily admit that compared to what some women go through what I experienced was a walk in the park. Still after such a wonderful and easy first pregnancy I found this one much more challenging. The day I turned 6 weeks pregnant, I threw up twice and then was queasy for several weeks after that, in addition to experiencing strong food aversions. I was so tired, but since I had a super active toddler on my hands, sleep was not something I was able to get enough of, and the little I did get was terrible. I suffered from insomnia and charlie horses, not to mention I would wake up hourly to pee. And my skin! Oh my skin was terrible. My face broke out (which hadn’t even happened to me during puberty) and I had patches of dry flaky skin that just no amount of moisturizing or exfoliating could tackle.

I felt fragile, and uncomfortable nearly the whole pregnancy, so I was hoping for an early delivery. I was more than ready to get this baby out. She had other plans. At 40 weeks exactly I had a bloody show and I got excited thinking that this might be the start of labour, but my due date came and went and the days creeped by. I was becoming increasingly more and more impatient and I felt pressured by everyone to have this baby already. Several nights I had contractions that were fairly consistent for an hour or so and then would simply stop. I was quickly losing all confidence that I had any idea at all what my body was doing.

At 41 weeks I had a None Stress Test (NST) (which I found incredibly stressful), but it turned out that while my fluid levels were on the low side the baby was doing fine. I was only 2 centimeters dilated and about 50% effaced so my midwife stripped my membranes in the hopes of getting things moving and sent me home with instructions to come back in 5 days for another NST if I hadn’t had my baby by then.

So I went home feeling dejected. A part of me was really hoping that they would discover that the baby needed to come out right then and that I’d be induced. The bloody show that I had been having fairly consistently for a week already, picked up and the rest of the day I felt pretty achy. My mom and I went to the mall that evening and walked around but I was becoming increasing more uncomfortable so we headed home. I went to bed around 10:30pm thinking that this could be the night and I woke up at 11:30pm with contractions. I began timing them like I had done several times before during the past week and found that while they were fairly mild/moderate they were pretty consistent and close together. By about 2am the contractions, while still pretty mild were coming 2-3 minutes apart, so I decided to call my midwives to let them know what was going on. After speaking to the midwife on call, Alex, we decided that I should probably head into the hospital since this was my second baby and things could turn a corner quickly. I woke up Raf, finished packing up a few things into my hospital bag, informed my parents and off we went. I was fairly sure that we would be sent right back home, since my contractions were so mild.

We got to the hospital at 3am and Alex checked me and found that I was only 4 centimeters dilated, but that was enough to keep me at the hospital. So, feeling discouraged that this wasn’t going to be a quick labour I settled in for the long haul. Now that I knew this was actually labour I kind of felt like maybe I was a labour rock star. I was totally in control during every contraction. When I felt one coming on, I’d just breathe through it gently. There was no wailing or screaming or crying. It was peaceful, calm, serene. I labored in the shower, on the exercise ball, leaning over the bed and in a birth chair.  The whole time I was thinking to myself, ‘this is going to take forever, these contractions aren’t strong enough to be doing anything.’ I kept thinking about how tired I was and how easy it would be to just get an epidural and go to sleep until it was time to push at which point I told Raf that I felt like I may crack and ask for an epidural and that he was to talk me off the ledge.  Unless I was adamantly insistent, he was not to allow me to get one. He protested but finally agreed.

At around 6am I got into the birth tub.  About 30 minutes later I was told by my nurse, Gabby that Alex thought I was entering transition. I remember thinking, ‘that’s odd because my contractions are still only moderate and isn’t transition the hardest part of labour?’ No sooner had I expressed this sentiment aloud than the next contraction hit me like a ton of bricks. A few more of those and I was begging for drugs and writhing about in the birth tub. All serenity had gone out the window. My student midwife, Michelle, suggested that I get out of the tub and have Alex check my dilation before making any decisions. I felt this was reasonable so I got out and Alex checked me, only to announce that I was 6 cm dilated. ONLY 6!

GIVE ME DRUGS!!!

I was a mess. I was crying and panicky. As each contraction ended I cowered in anticipation of the next, yet there was no escape. I later described it to my Dad like I was standing in front of a stampede of horses and I knew I would be trampled but I couldn’t move, I just had to stand there knowing it would happen, over and over and over.

Alex let me know that she heard my request for drugs, but that she thought I only had 2 or so more hours, which to me felt like she was telling me I would be stuck in this misery for the rest of my life. I kept saying that I couldn’t do it, to which everyone would reply, that I was doing it, which only served to have me scream that I DIDN’T WANT TO DO IT!! Alex suggested I return to laboring in the shower, so I made my way to the bathroom.

I first labored on the toilet for a while, when my body began bearing down on it’s own. After what happened in my labour with Asher I was deathly afraid of my cervix swelling, but I couldn’t prevent my body from pushing. I was reaching a point of total terror. I was utterly and completely terrified of the torture pain. I finally got up to walk the 3 feet to the shower, when a massive contraction hit. I immediately dropped to my hands and knees on the bathroom floor.

I needed drugs! I clung to this thought like a life raft, it was the only thing I could really think about. Alex told me I was doing great and that I was still in control of my contractions. No sooner has she said that, than I lost all control with the next one. My breathing was erratic, I started to bite Raf and probably would have come away with a chunk of his arm, before I remembered miraculously that I needed to relax my jaw. My body was still bearing down and at this point my water broke (although, I didn’t know it at the time).  I began insisting on an epidural. Alex called the anesthesiologist, but said she wanted to check my dilation again while we waited for him to arrive. I made my way back to the bed and she checked me and then promptly announced that I was fully dilated and it was time to push. I went from 6 cm to 10 cm in 20 minutes. I had passed the point of getting an epidural.

So I pushed with every ounce of strength that I had. I’m pretty sure I nearly crushed Rafaan’s fingers, I was gripping them so hard. I had no thought of meeting my baby, only of getting the pain to end. Tears streamed down my face, I was in total and complete agony but after 4 or 5 contractions I reached down and pulled my tiny perfect baby onto my belly.

Bennett Rose Anvari was born on February 27th at 7:25am after 8 hours of labor, weighing in at exactly 7 pounds and measuring 20.5 inches long. Just like her brother before her, she rocked her Apgar test, scoring 9 and 9!

I wish I could say that any thought of the pain of labour immediately vanished when I laid eyes on my daughter, but it didn’t. I felt utterly traumatized and in shock. I was pretty shaken up. While Rafaan cried tears of joy at meeting our little girl, all I could do was shake and sob over what I had just endured as they sewed up my small first degree tear. I slowly came around and was able to marvel at my little girl and what I had just done to bring her here, but it took me a good two days to no longer feel traumatized by the experience. It was rough to say the least, though I can honestly say I’d do it again and I definitely still want to have more children. I am proud of myself for having a completely natural, drug free labour, because ultimately that’s the best and safest thing for both mother and baby (barring any complications). Another one of my midwives told me the next morning that what I experienced she refers to as “transition trash talk.” I’m so thankful to Wisdom Midwifery and the GWU Hospital labor and delivery staff for assisting me and helping me have a natural labour, despite everything I said to the contrary at the time.

In retrospect I think the reason I had such a hard time, was because I had lost confidence in knowing what my body was doing. I didn’t trust myself or my body and labour is such a mental battle in addition to a physical one, that not being in the right head space really had a huge negative impact on how I was able to handle the pain. I also needed to be pulled out of my head more. The first 7 hours were so easy that I don’t think Raf (despite his best efforts) was really prepared to coach me through the last hour like I really needed. Those are two things we definitely need to work on and prepare for next time.

We are so proud to be the parents to not only our beautiful little pistol of a son, Asher, but now to our sweet and cuddly perfection of a daughter, Bennett. We couldn’t have asked for a better addition to our family!