I remember sitting with my mother in Tucci Benucch in the Mall of America discussing childbirth. Perhaps it was when she had flown up to take care of me when I had my wisdom teeth removed, which might be how we got on the topic of pain, but I'm not entirely certain. But I definitely remember the conversation we had, as it was the first time I learned a number of things about my mother and about birthing. It was during this conversation that I learned that her doctor had told her she had an ectopic pregnancy, yet upon going in to remove it, discovered it wasn't ectopic at all. Then her doctor told her that the stress of the procedure would cause her to miscarry, but she didn't. Then her doctor encouraged an abortion because the drugs she had for the procedure would have caused harm to the baby, but she said no. And then several months later, I was born. We joked that the drugs must have caused my abnormally short toes.

I also learned that my mother gave birth to me and both of my older brothers without an epidural. It was offered to her, but she didn't see a point at getting pain relief so late in the game. She said she was practically done by that point. All three times, her labor lasted approximately four hours. For those of you who have never met my mother, she is hardly the stereotype you may have in your head for women supporting natural childbirth. Indeed, I was induced a week early, which isn't natural at all. Her decision to not get an epidural was made on logical grounds: she didn't think the risks to the baby were worth what little relief she felt it would give her. (It is worth noting both that epidurals today are not the same as epidurals 30+ years ago, and that this statement is not intended to be a judgement on anyone else's choices as every birth is different.)

This conversation with my mother was pretty much the first time I'd thought about childbirth outside of the horror that Hollywood makes it out to be. It was before I was pregnant or intended to become so… possibly before I'd even met Thomas, though I'm not certain. I hadn't had much reason to think about it before, or since, until the notion of going through it myself became more real. Somewhat suddenly, I was reading a lot of books and websites and threads on forums. I learned a lot about the history of childbirth in America, and to a lesser extent, some of the rest of the world.

I learned about twilight sleep, where women are drugged up such that they can't remember birthing at all, and they wake up the next day with a baby they didn't have before. I learned that this was standard procedure until the 60s when the natural childbirth movement made triumphant strides into the mainstream, and by the 70s, birthing women had so many wonderful choices!

What I didn't learn was that the natural childbirth movement didn't take over quite as quickly as these sources might lead you to believe. I had thought that by the 70s, twilight sleep was a thing of the past. Then I talked to my mother again.

We talk a lot on Skype these days. In addition to being my mother, she's also one of the few women I've known for more than about a month who has actually given birth. It isn't uncommon for us to discuss pregnancy and baby stuff, but somehow the subject of actually giving birth hadn't come up since that conversation years ago, until last week. I was surprised to learn that she had actually given birth under twilight sleep, and had to specifically request to stay awake for her other births.

I have two older brothers. Before them, though, there was another. I knew this, but I didn't know that he was born under twilight sleep. I didn't know that my mother went into the hospital one morning, remembers nothing about the rest of the day, and then the next day awoke to be told that her son was stillborn. It's no wonder that when she was in labor with Wayne she insisted on being awake for it. She wanted to know what was happening. There was another woman in the room giving birth under twilight sleep, thrashing about like a wild animal and requiring multiple people to restrain her. The next day, she woke up remembering nothing and acting as the sweetest woman in the world. It's no wonder my mother continued to choose being awake for Brent's and my births in the future.

Recently, at dinner with my in-laws, my mother-in-law lamented that she had never gotten to give birth vaginally. She showed her Cesarean scar, made at a time when they were done vertically, which, my nurse sister-in-law explained, isn't done anymore except in special circumstances.

This week, if he hasn't already made his appearance, my nephew will be born. My brother and his wife are expecting a little boy, due July 4th, but the doctor says the baby is too large and should come out early. I had thought it was placenta previa that made the early birth necessary, but apparently the placenta did move away from the cervix. It's just that the baby is "too big." I'm curious to see how big he actually is. The doctor said if she doesn't go into labor before Wednesday, she'll be induced then.

I'm not sure if there's an overall point to this post, though in my defense, I'm awake at 4am and my husband is at work. I guess it's just that before embarking on my own journey towards motherhood, I never realized that the act of giving birth could be such a phenomenally different experience for different people and/or at different times. I never realized there was so much more to it than enduring pain to get to the joy of holding your baby. And yet it almost seems obvious now that this major milestone would be so complicated

In two to three months I'll be sharing my own story. I hope it's a positive one.