When my brothers and I were young, we'd ask my mother what it felt like to birth a baby. "It's like shitting a watermelon," she'd say every time.

We'd all laugh because mom had said a naughty word.

I had no idea how accurate her sentiment was.


While I was pushing Malcolm out, it was such unbelievable pain that I with every contraction, I screamed swear words through the halls of the hospital, knowing that was the only way he was getting out. I could feel every single stretch of my body trying to accommodate his. I had not gotten medication or even a natural rush of pain-numbing hormones to help me along (though I was grateful to know that an epidural was just a hallway away).

It was all pain.

It was also utter mystery.

I was pure body.

There was nothing else inside me. My mind was there, but as nothing more than another observer. I was not deciding to push or not to push. All I could do was watch as my body bore down through contraction after contraction, giving me no choice but to shove with every ounce of life-force I could grab on to.

Damn how it burned! For forty-five minutes of intense pushing, me on my knees and a birth ball, husband fanning me on one side, doula on the other saying "yessss" to every horrible word that came out of my mouth.

Oh, how I needed them.

I was utterly present to the unfathomable force that was taking over my body. There was no free will about it, I was just an animal. Thank god.
Another huge push, the awful stretch, the pain and fear, and then, my husband so quietly exclaiming “It’s a boy!”

Baby had come out in one swift motion, and I hadn't even realized it was over. I looked behind me and saw this floppy little fish on the bed and thought, “huh…that’s weird.”

I did not experience the instantly bonding surge of oxytocin some others get. But I also knew that was okay. At that moment, I just wanted everyone to recognize what I had just done.

In time, the bond came. When I would hear him cry in the night and feel my body lift itself out of bed to go to him, even before a thought had crossed my mind, I knew "what is this, if not love?" And today, when he walks into my arms for a hug, I am overwhelmed.

Such love as I have never known when he smiles, when he sits in my arms playing with my necklace, when he coughs. I utterly adore him, and he was worth it all.


In the weeks after birth, I walked around in a daze thinking “our bodies are fucking amazing!”

And they are.

I am so proud of mine.

9/13/2013 10:32:23 am

Beautiful story, beautifully told. Right on. And thank you, you beautiful animal!

9/13/2013 12:05:47 pm

Beautiful post. The most honest and candid description of birth I've read.

9/13/2013 12:22:54 pm

Hi Whitney! Your writing is beatiful, inspriational and encouraging just like you.


Leave a Reply.

    Would you like

    I am so happy you're here!

    I am Whitney Rhiannon Till, and I am passionate about finding ways to undo that which holds us back, and create the lives that we most deeply yearn for.

    May the outpourings of my soul best meet the needs of yours. Follow my blog or social media for inspiration and love!


    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013


    Break Up
    Childhood Emotional Abuse
    Häagen Dazs
    How To Be Alive
    Inner Strength
    Radical Acceptance
    Self Care
    Self Care
    Self Worth