Birth day minus four

Isaac's first birthday is in four weeks, and as we count it down, I will be posting something labor- or birth-related on each of the next four Wednesdays. I'll start with this:

I was at work at the library last Friday, and I talked to a patron I hadn't seen since this time last year when I was eight months pregnant. She and her three little daughters were regular library users, so I know them well, and I wasn't surprised when she asked me how Isaac's birth had been. I gave her the nutshell version of the story: wonderful doula, peaceful labor at home until the last possible moment, a rushed drive to the hospital, and birth within an hour of arrival. It was a natural birth without any drugs, not even an IV.

She asked, "Didn't it hurt?"

And I said, to my surprise and chagrin, "No."

As that was not in fact true, I corrected myself immediately, if inarticulately. It wasn't that it hadn't hurt, but that it didn't hurt like something was wrong with me, so I didn't mind it. Or I guess I didn't mind it -- at least I never had the desire to take the pain away, although pain isn't quite the right word. How did it feel, anyway? It's so hard to remember. I do remember being angry when two contractions came right on top of each other, with no space between them -- I felt cheated, and I complained, "Where's my break? I want my break!"

It was difficult to describe the experience without minimizing 12 hours of amazingly intense work, reducing it to "It wasn't that bad." So I muddled my way through these thoughts, and she listened politely, but I got the impression she thought I had been some kind of tough guy, gritting my teeth in stoic agony. That wasn't how it felt. I felt in control of being out of control. I concentrated thoroughly during contractions, and relaxed just as thoroughly between them. I was in a small sturdy boat floating in a warm peaceful sea during a pitch-black night -- punctuated by a series of truly enormous waves, yes, but even in the dark I could navigate by instinct, my boat was capable of cresting each wave, and I wasn't going to sink as long as I kept alert.

I didn't say this ridiculous thing, of course. In the end, I just shrugged and smiled.