Pain and acceptance

EMC Editorial - I'm almost there, my friends. Almost to the end of the long and arduous journey that is pregnancy. It feels like a lifetime ago that I wrote a column expressing how overwhelmed I was by the endless, often alarming bits of "advice" offered by certain celebrated pregnancy guides and the well-intentioned people of the internet.

Tearing myself away from those sources and relying instead on the much more comforting advice of my midwife has largely cured me of my former hysteria.

Yet as long ago as that unpleasant stretch feels, it's been longer still since I first found out I was pregnant. It was the middle of summer and we couldn't tell anyone. Being the kind of person who needs to talk or write about things in order to make sense of them, trying to come to terms with this monumental development without having the opportunity to vent and complain about it to anyone other than my poor husband was nothing short of torturous.

At this point, pregnancy seems almost old hat. I can barely even remember what wine tastes like, and am no longer all that bitter about being every gathering's teetotaller. I've grown accustomed to being asked "how are you feeling?" about 10 times a day. I've even learned to roll with the many different aches, pains and other mysterious bodily discomforts I experience on a daily basis.

It figures that as soon as I begin to get used to this way of life, a new and arguably even more daunting challenge complete with its own set of anxiety-inducing realities, looms ahead. I'm not talking about the soon-to-arrive new addition to our family. That part I'm actually quite excited about. No, it's the whole business of how this baby girl will make her way out of my uterus and into the world that scares me.

I understand basically what to expect - namely pain. Overwhelming, all-encompassing, previously unimaginable degrees of pain. Over the last seven-and-a-half months - and even more so over the last few weeks - I have spent a great deal of time coming to terms with the fact that I will soon be experiencing this, most painful of pains ever known to humanity.

Most people I have conversed with on the subject have an easy, in many ways no-brainer solution to this unpleasant reality: the epidural. Personally, I've gone back and forth on the subject. Part of me sees it as a useful tool of modern medicine that exists to make life a little easier for labouring women.

On the other hand, the pain of childbirth was endured for a million or so years without the epidural. Perhaps the reason most women today feel such a need for it is because of a preconceived cultural notion that it is all but impossible to get by without one. This doesn't strike me as a particularly healthy attitude. The physical effects of the medication (most notably numbness) are unsettling enough, but what about the psychological implications?

After weeks of contemplation I've come to the conclusion that for me, walking into this under the assumption that I will definitely be needing an epidural will only increase my fear of childbirth. Being in midwifery care has allowed me to develop a different, and to my mind much more rational attitude toward birth from anything I had previously considered: essentially, this is a normal, natural process. Women in labour are not "sick", and while it may not be 100 per cent enjoyable, delivering a baby is nothing to be scared of.

Thus I have once again ceased listening to the many stories circulating online and amongst my own acquaintances, this time dealing with problems that arose during their births and why the epidural is absolutely necessary. Judge me if you will, but barring any major complications I plan on bringing this baby into the world completely naturally, and with as little fear as humanly possible.

Oh and whatever else happens, please spare me the morphine. (Apparently, it's routinely given out to labouring women at KGH.) I didn't give up my beloved wine for nine long months only to be injected with a close relative of the heroine family on the last day, thank you very much.