*This is the English version with some changes of the text "The day that Nico was born" published on the Mummy Mag.
The day that Nico was born was not just a day but almost an entire week! For your better understanding of my feelings and this story, you must know that all this was completely new, exciting and sometimes stressful for me, not only, because I became a mom for the first time, but also because I come from another country with a very different "birthing culture". This, and the fact that me and my husband live alone in Berlin with no relatives around, got this rollercoaster of emotions to a whole new level!
An international birthing plan
After very intensive interrogation of my obgyn about the conception date, which I did not know for sure anymore, even though my son was a very planned baby, she finally calculated June 10 2014 as the due date.
When my parents and the rest of the family in Colombia learnt about the pregnancy, they were ecstatic since this would be my parents' first grandchild. For us it was clear, as it always is for Colombians, that my mom, dad, and little brother would come to Berlin to help us out in the first weeks with the baby.
As soon as they could, they booked the plain tickets in order to arrive in Berlin on June 7, three days before the due date. I was really looking forward to having my parents around, since they are both physicians and, together with my husband, the people I trust the most! We all hoped that Nico would be born after the due date. And personally, I wished for my parents to be able to see and touch my big watermelon belly. I even imagined how we would go for a walk during the Carnival of Cultures.
The temperamental Kid
By the end of may, I started talking to the baby everyday, hoping to convince him to wait for his grandparents. But, as arbitrary as children can be, he had his own stubborn plan in mind.
My husband's birthday is on the second of june. He is not exactly the most cheerful person regarding own birthday celebrations. On that Monday, we wanted to celebrate, just the two of us, with a Schnitzel feast at our favorite Austrian restaurant in the Bergmann area. My very pregnant body would function in another way that day, though... Should it maybe become a birthday surprise for Papi? Like every morning, Tom left to work and let me sleep off. But, as soon as he left the apartment, I had to run to the toilette. Wait, I'm wet down there! I stood up and something streamt out. And my parties did not have the original color anymore. I couldn't tell was that all was about, so I called my obgyn. She immediately sent me to the hospital since her practice was too far away to reach.
I called Hubs. We met at the hospital. On his way there, he had collected the hospital bag. After all, you never know what could happen... After a short wait and an examination, the doctor determined that it "only" was the mucus plug which just came loose. Otherwise there were no other signs of labor. Until then, hours, days and even weeks could pass by. I took a very deep breath and begged the baby once again to wait at least until Saturday. That evening, Hubs and I did not dare to leave home anymore.
Three day contractions
On Wednesday, I had a routine appointment with my obgyn, actually the last one before the due date. Her practice was in Pankow (after a years long quest for a good gynecologist who I could trust, I decided to stick to her). I called a taxi following plug-gate. Everything was going fine. I was very relaxed. Therefore, I decided to get back home with the metro. On my way, I wanted to buy the last things for my family's arrival and get some lunch. When I was looking for those horrible huge sanitary pads for after the delivery, I started to have the first contractions. As I still was quite far away from my apartment I though if they are that light, labor would be peanuts! Epic fail! As soon as I arrived at home, I cocooned on the couch and started watching Sex and the City, again, from the very beginning, in order not to think of the contractions and relax. They came every fifteen minutes. So, I breathed them out the whole evening.
Suddenly, around three at night, the real contractions started. Every ten minutes. No one slept anymore. Then, every five minutes! We jumped out of bed, got dressed and took a taxi to the hospital. When we arrived, we had the shock of our lives. There, it was as if on that Thursday all pregnant women in Berlin were giving birth at that same place! We had actually registered quite early for the delivery at that hospital and had even reserved a family room for the three of us during our entire stay. But that day, it didn't look like that. It was so full, that they even suggested for us to look for another hospital and wanted to send me home. There was no way I was doing to do any of that!
The contractions were awful but suddenly not that regular anymore. I was sent to take a walk and got examined five times in total. I begged so hard not to be sent home that day, that we even made it to a delivery room. The cervix had opened four centimeters, but by the last examination , it was only two centimeters. And I was reminded of my midwife's flight reaction theorie: the baby did not want to be born in such an stressful environment. Or he had stage fright! After twelve hours with strong contractions after our arrival at the hospital, we were finally sent home. I should relax by baking a cake. Baking my ass! I don't like baking, I'm not good at it and I still don’t understand why baking should distract a birthing person from contractions.
My parents were following all the events per live ticker. They were really worried. In Colombia, no one in my situation would be sent home, they would let you stay in. And there, it is not the midwife who serves the delivery but your own obgyn - no matter at what time. In fact, midwifes are not common anymore. My parents didn't understand the German birthing culture. By that time, I also found it very uncomfortable and impersonal. Above all the search for a complete stranger for your check-up, regarding that the quest for a good obgyn had already been long enough! And, as a physicians' daughter, I wished to have more of a medical handling rather than the oh so naturalist nature of (many) midwives. I did not trust the system at all.
Very often, I felt like damned to undergo a brain wash and tried every time to defend myself. Many things were demonised by my own midwife and the hospital staff when Hubs and I were looking for a hospital: don't you even think of a C-Section, don't you dare to ask for an epidural, episiotomy? we don't speak about such unpleasant stuff! Where did our free will as birthing person go? I know very well that giving birth is the most natural process in the world because it's physiological. But you should be allowed to feel safe and secure - do it your own way - or not? I wished so hard I could just grab my obgyn out of her practice of her bed and bring her to the hospital with me, just to have a trusted professional around. All of us felt so impotent and my dad's heart threatened to screw their trip to Germany the next day. There was nothing left to do but wait. I exhaled contractions the whole night to Friday and could hardly sleep.
The day of the ultimate salvation
On Friday morning, Hubs worked from home and took care of me. Meanwhile, I did not care anymore if my parents could make it to Berlin on time. I just wanted to press that baby out of me so bad! I was exhausted from sleep deprivation of the last two days. Carrie Bradshaw and Co. were still a welcome distraction. By noon, Hubs cooked lunch. It was a light dish, just chicken filet and potatoes, since I was afraid of eating too much and having to puke during labor (I had heard some stories...). Just a few minutes after I started eating, contractions got unbearable and very regular. I called my midwife who knew we needed to leave for hospital as soon as she heard my voice. So we did and arrived there at around three pm.
Contrary to the day before, it was heavenly calm a the hospital. We were taken immediately to the delivery room. As soon as I was in, my water broke. Two midwives attentively took care of us three. You can tell the station was empty! I asked them to let me go into the hot tub and it helped a lot. They connected me to the CTG and gave me Buscopan for the pain. Shortly thereafter, the cervix was completely open. One of the midwives asked me if I wanted to have a water birth. Off course I did! My plan was to stay as long as possible in the tub in order to avoid a possible perineal tear. They told me to push but nothing happened. After many attempts I had to go out.
I tried all possible birthing positions and tools but the baby didn't want to come out. I guess he was doing damn fine in there! I was physically exhausted. Probably that was why I was not pushing properly. The midwives recommended me to take the epidural but I declined. I was afraid that it would prolong labor even more, as my personal midwife had told us weeks before. But I also had yet another plan: in fact, I decided to go to that hospital not only because compared to others they were really good equipped but also because they offered laughing for pain relief during labour. From then on and until my son saw the light of this world, I inhaled laughing gas with every contraction like a pro. And it helped a lot, I would recommend!
Meanwhile, Hubs stood every second by my side and gave me water. I imagined the scene like on a boxing ring. He as the trainer and I was the boxer. On the other side of the Atlantic, my family had already started the trip to Berlin. Hubs kept them always in the loop per WhatsApp, although there was little progress, other than me screaming like a lunatic due to the pain. I felt so embarrassed and thought that I was bothering the whole hospital with my yelling, since, on that very hot Friday, all the windows in the delivery room where open. But somehow, screaming also gave me strength.
Welcome to the Familia!
Eventually, before midnight, there was a change of shifts and two new jung and very loving midwives came in. Shortly after, the obgyn on duty also arrived and told us that labor was taking already too long and I obviously did not have energy anymore and therefore she would get the baby out with the help of a suction bell.
I was so desperate, I was frightened and tried to resist. I didn't want any foreign object on my baby! Until she finally convinced me that that was the best thing to do. Mentally, I begged my son to get out immediately. One of the nice midwives brought the package with the suction bell inside. When she was tearing the packaging I had to scream the loudest. I felt a horrible burn and without even pushing, my son slipped out of my body at 23.50 hours of June 6. Every time I think about that moment, I feel an incredible relief! This kid new what he wanted!
Afterwards, I was extremely relaxed and touched when I saw Hubs's tears of joy. I thanked God that, at the end, everything worked out. Nico was a little mini-me and wouldn't stop crying. But the best thing of all was that on that day my family was so well 'nsync and mentally connected and the timing was so perfect that my mom could even hear Nico's first crying during her call from their change in Panama so that she could also share the good news with my suffering father.
Less nice was the fact that, to that time, the ward was so full that Hubs was sent home at two at night and me and Nico had to spend the night in a double room with another new mom and her baby. Also not so nice was the fact that, although my skin was strong enough not to suffer a perineal tear, I did actually suffer a little vaginal tearing and the obgyn had to stitch up the wound. For that, I had to wait a while after she returned from an emergengy in another delivery room. But the next day we were all finally together: Papi, Mami, Nico, GrandPa, GrandMa and uncle in our family room and the stress of the entire week seemed already so far away!
Looking back, I'm very, very thankful with God and life that everything went well at the end and that we would welcome a very healthy and beautiful binational baby. After so many concerns and doubts, I accepted the natural birth and its perks. Nevertheless, I still doubted for a very long time if I should have another baby in Germany since I had wished to have more liberty regarding the labor plan and that many things around it just don't get as tabooed. I wish for all women to have the right to openly and accurately know what will happen to their body and to their feelings, to freely decide how they want to give birth to their children as well as the possibility to have their wished professional support by their side. After all, only us should be allowed to decide about our own bodies and how we want to be treated, for this is the our most fragile time we will experience in our lives!
After all, and as we always wanted to have two kids, I decided to give it another chance and forget the less comfortable aspects of giving birth aside, and went all for it three years later. And it definitely was a very different birthing experience. But that’s another story!
How was your birthing experience as a migrant mom? Would you have another child or did the first experience change your mind about having more than one children?
Fun or, rather, geeky fact: the actual, historically well-known D-Day was June 6 in 1944!