My Labor Was Incredibly Brief — But It’s Not As Pleasant As It Sounds

During my pregnancy with my son, I had meticulously crafted a birth plan. The vision was idyllic: I would arrive at the hospital at 39 weeks, dressed in a stylish yet comfortable birthing outfit, my nails perfectly painted in a light blue hue. I would be made up, of course, because photos are a must. My mom would fly in two days prior to lend emotional support and take care of our dog while we were away, as she couldn’t enter the hospital due to COVID restrictions.

At the hospital, I imagined watching Harry Potter movies on my laptop while we awaited the induction. My husband would lovingly massage my shoulders and remind me how strong and amazing I am — cue the inspirational music. I envisioned my monitored contractions building up until the pain became unbearable, at which point the epidural would swoop in to save the day. I would then give birth to my precious son and we would share a heartwarming family hug.

Oh, how naive I was.

Have you ever heard of precipitous labor? I hadn’t until it happened to me. This term refers to labor that lasts less than three hours, and it’s particularly rare for first-time mothers. My labor, however, was over in a mere 90 minutes. Let me take you through the chaotic timeline.

March 18, 3:30 AM

I wake up, battling the insomnia that comes with pregnancy. I wander into the living room to grab my copy of Sense and Sensibility, hoping for a little light reading without disturbing my husband, Jake. Our dog follows me, loyal as ever.

3:40 AM

I’m comfortably settled on the sofa, engrossed in my book. Oh, Marianne, you foolish girl! Wait, I think I need to use the restroom. Be right back!

3:45 AM

Eww, that’s my mucus plug. Should I call the doctor? I read somewhere that this could mean labor is approaching in a couple of days. How exciting! Baby Leo could be on his way. Does a little happy dance

3:46 AM

Feeling a bit tired, I decide to lie down and tell Jake that I lost my mucus plug. He’ll be thrilled.

3:50 AM

As I snuggle into bed, I suddenly feel a strange sensation. Did my baby drop? Is that normal? Cue mild cramping.

3:51 AM

JAKE, WAKE UP! I think I’m in labor! I call the doctor, thinking we have plenty of time since labor usually lasts about eight hours. We definitely don’t want to arrive too early, or they’ll send us home!

3:55 AM

CRAMPING INTENSIFIES Jake, get the car ready! The nurse said the doctor would call back in 40 minutes. Maybe we should just go for safety’s sake.

4:00 AM

We’re in the car, and Jake makes some ridiculous jokes that I’m not in the mood to hear. More intense cramping. I can’t even focus enough to time the contractions.

4:35 AM

We finally reach the hospital. I inform Jake that I can’t walk from the parking garage and insist we park out front. I stumble out of the car and press my face against the hospital door, desperately seeking help.

4:45 AM

Somehow, I’ve ended up in a wheelchair. How? I have no clue. I feel my water break, and I’m soaked. I yell at the receptionist to get me an epidural. I’m in agony; my stomach feels like it’s going to burst.

4:50 AM

I’m in a room, and Jake is trying to help me change into a gown. I’m hitting him in frustration. I rush to the toilet — am I going to throw up? Nope, surprise! It’s diarrhea. My husband is still trying to assist me while also cleaning me up. Just let me be, Jake.

4:55 AM

The doctor finally arrives. I’m screaming for drugs! I need the epidural! The doctor smiles as the nurses prepare an IV, but then they check and discover my baby’s head is already visible. I’m 7 centimeters dilated. This is not good.

5:00 AM

I’m moved to another room on a stretcher. I’m gripping the nurse’s arm, pleading for the epidural. I’m sweating profusely and panicking. The nurse informs me that my IV has fallen out.

5:05 AM

At last, the anesthesiologist arrives with his cart, explaining the epidural’s effects. I nod vigorously, too desperate to care. Just put it in! Suddenly, my body starts pushing on its own.

5:06 AM

The nurse realizes I’m not just being dramatic. She positions me properly and calls for the doctor. There’s no time for an epidural, she says. I’m horrified.

5:09 AM

Jake reappears, holding my hand as the doctor arrives. I can’t believe this is happening. After one contraction and two pushes — he’s here.

My beautiful baby boy, Leo. And despite the chaos, he was worth every moment.

It’s important to note that I’ve never considered a natural birth. I’ve always been a staunch advocate for taking pain relief options during childbirth. Yet, this experience taught me that labor doesn’t wait for your plans. It happens on its own schedule, and there’s often no opportunity for an epidural.

So, whenever someone asks if I’m planning to have another child, you can bet I make this face…

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In summary, my labor experience was anything but what I had envisioned. The reality of precipitous labor left me unprepared and overwhelmed. While I always believed in the power of pain management during childbirth, I learned that sometimes, nature has other plans.