From my experience of creating a birth plan, it is far easier to find reasons NOT to get an epidural than reasons to support one. I believe it has a lot to do with the ongoing shift in western medicine to more holistic, alternative approaches that other cultures have been utilizing for centuries. It is also coupled with the fact that we think we know all about the benefits of an epidural already: less pain! And who doesn’t want that, right?

But is that the only benefit?

Today I wanted to share my personal experience with unmedicated birth and why I will be asking for the epidural in the future. This might be an unpopular opinion in the current L&D community, but I feel deeply about sharing this to present a different perspective to new moms who may be in the process of planning their birth.

As a first-time pregnant lady, I wanted to do everything perfectly.

And while I was planning my birth with our hospital’s birthing coordinator, I was led (quite literally with articles and book recommendations) to believe that going the non-epidural route would be best for me and my baby. After having gone through it, I now believe that what’s best is different for every momma, and I wish I were given a more realistic picture of what labor and delivery would look like for both options.

(Disclaimer: These are my opinions based on my personal birthing experience, and it admittedly will not provide a well-balanced, research-oriented outlook on the medicated vs unmedicated birth conversation. Please consult your OBGYN and make sure to thoroughly research your options in creating a birth plan that’s right for you. Also, I use the term ‘medicated’ in this post solely to refer to the procedure of getting an epidural - not any other medications while in labor/delivery such as medications for the baby or Pitocin - both of which I opted for. The Pitocin I received post-birth was to ensure that my uterus was clearing the remaining placental fragments, which was important in preventing a hemorrhage.)

So why do I regret not getting the epidural, and why do I hope to get one in the future?

1. I grossly underestimated the level of pain.

I know what you’re thinking. How could you not have known? Isn’t that common knowledge? The thing is, my labor pains didn’t truly set in until about 8 hours after being admitted when I was about 7-8cm dilated. The L&D nurses were shocked at my pain tolerance and told me that most women are screaming as they get admitted at 4cm of dilation.

With the encouragement of my amazing nurses (who, by the way, got me through my entire labor) I was able to go from 7cm to 9cm thinking, “It can’t get any worse than this.”

Welp… I was a little too confident and a little too unrealistic about how painful active labor (pushing) actually is. You know the ring of fire they talk about? I’d like to rename it the ring of literal f-ing hell. It was like going from a 9/10 on the pain scale to a 1000/10 in the span of thirty minutes and there was nothing I could do but push through.

2. The lack of sleep/rest set me up for a rough beginning.

We were admitted to the hospital around midnight, and Luke was born 11 hours later. While the initial contractions were not painful per se, they still felt like pressure waves to squeeze and breathe through (real talk: I actually felt like I had to poop REALLY BADLY the entire time, which was my body trying to get me to push. I had to suppress that urge or I would’ve given birth at the wrong time!) Thus, I stayed awake the entire night while riding the contractions.

I wasn’t able to sleep or rest as many do with an epidural, which set me up for an EXHAUSTING beginning of meeting baby Luke. Had I gotten the epidural and rested, I would have been in a much better physical, emotional, and mental state to enjoy that first precious hour with my baby boy - also known as the Golden Hour. (This is the hour that they refer to as being the most optimal time for skin-to-skin to soothe your baby and regulate their temperature as well as try to latch for breastfeeding.)

3. I was exhausted the entire hospital stay.

Giving birth during the pandemic was no walk in the park. One thing I want to note is that while we were at the hospital, the nurses discouraged us from using the nursery unless absolutely necessary due to concerns over covid. It was impossible for us to catch up on any sleep with a newborn who needed to be fed every hour. And while I genuinely wanted to enjoy my baby, I felt so drained.

Being physically exhausted overwhelmed me emotionally as well, especially when it came to breastfeeding. I pulled one all-nighter after another, anxiously trying to latch with baby Luke.

4. For me, going through unmedicated labor was more traumatic than expected.

While I am very hesitant to call this trauma because I don’t want to underplay the suffering of mothers who have gone through much more than I did (including complications and other emergencies), I can’t help but speak of my own experiences. A part of me does feel it necessary to call it trauma so that mothers who’ve felt the ramifications of their own birthing experience, no matter what the process was like, are able to name their feelings and seek validation and healing.

Karine Bell writes, “The best definition of trauma I know goes like this: Trauma is anything that was too much, too soon, and too fast for us to process and integrate.”

More research is now being done regarding childbirth trauma that lingers for moms years after delivery. While I am no psychologist or therapist, I noticed that I was suffering from the effects of childbirth because I blocked out much of my labor and would get sweaty and anxious when thinking back on it. Hearing about Karine Bell’s definition of trauma allowed me to feel validated in my own experience and realize that the pain was too much and too fast for me to process right away, and it’s okay to admit it.

Ultimately, I am so, so grateful for the fact that Luke’s birth went smoothly.

I brought a healthy baby boy into this world and came out in one piece on the other side, and I would endure the pain a thousand times over if it meant that Luke would be in my arms. But the point is that I didn’t need to, and it wasn’t any better. In fact, I believe that it was my own desire to “perfect” my birth plan that led me to a birth plan that wasn’t necessarily the best for me.

I feel it necessary to share this story not out of resentment but out of transparency. I’ve spoken to women who feel as though they’ve “failed” for not having stuck to their original birth plan. They felt that they failed their baby because they couldn’t choose to do what they believed was “best” for them.

Well, I leave you with this: I gave birth without an epidural, and it didn’t make me any stronger or any better because of it. I didn’t feel more empowered or more connected to Luke, and should God bless us with another child in the future, I will one hundred freakin’ percent be asking for that damn epidural.