I Was My Sister’s Birth Doula and Her 30-Hour, Unmedicated Birth Changed Me

I was so honored when my sister asked me to be her birth doula as soon as she found out she was pregnant. We were ten years apart but had grown closer as I became an adult. She was married earlier that year to a great guy we all loved and respected, and they were excited to start their own little family.

I had helped birth clients before, so I knew second-hand how painful birth could be—especially natural, which my sister was aiming for. I told her with complete and utter honesty that it’d most likely be the most painful experience of her life, but she was healthy and fit as well as a positively motivated person, so we felt confident her mind and body could handle it. Pain is all mental at root anyway, right? 

Disclaimer: This piece is not meant to compare to anyone else’s birth experience or desires, and it’s not intended to criticize medicated births, scheduled inductions, or c-sections. Every birth experience is different, special and beautiful, but birth plans might change, and emergencies happen. My heart goes out to every woman who’s known a traumatizing birth, who hasn’t had quality support, or who’s had to give birth in a completely different way than she’d hoped. 

A Stork’s Admittance

Dressed in her soft pink nightie, my sister halted and groaned mid-step just outside the hospital’s double-doors aptly labeled “Stork Entrance.” She held her engorged stomach as her dropped womb squeezed out another contraction. Normally a cleanly person who used her elbow to open public restroom doors, she closed her eyes and braced herself against the dusty window while she grunted through the pain. The 45-minute car ride hadn’t been fun with those contractions, even with the British hypnobirthing voice playing.

Loaded with a backpack and three Stanley cups in one arm, I used my other hand to firmly press on pressure points in her lower back to ease the hurt. All this while, an old handicapped man in a wheelchair ten paces off gaped away at the sight, no doubt feeling a bit uncomfortable.

A sweet nurse just finishing her shift stopped mid-exit and brought a wheelchair over as my brother-in-law caught up with us, loaded up like a pack mule with overnight bags. She even escorted us all the way to the maternity check-in window at the Labor and Delivery unit. Bless her.

At said window, my sister hit another contraction episode barely after her friendly “Hi, I’m checking in,” and the poor male nurse at the window bulged his eyes out like a lost deer in the headlights and abruptly got up without a word to go find a midwife. The situation clearly called for a woman’s touch. Why was a guy at L&D, anyway?

The Birth Plan

We aimed to labor at home for as long as possible. But when contractions grew closer together, the midwife advised us to leave for the hospital. 

My sister’s birth plan was very holistic, and she had consulted her fully supportive husband when writing it (and myself, of course). They had originally wanted to go to a birthing center, but because the baby was suspected of possibly having a slight heart defect they agreed with the midwives that going to the hospital was the safest option.

There is a lot of stigma around hospital birth and home birth alike from both sides of the spectrum. But thankfully, we had a great hospital experience. The staff respected the more alternative birth plan with no epidural, shots or immunizations. My sister was even allowed to walk around her room untethered by cords and monitors for most of her labor. The nurses and midwives were sweet, gentle, and nurturing. 

Not Without The Moon Lamp

Upon inspection, my sister was found to be 3 cm. dilated (10 cm is full dilation) and at -2 station, with a loud and strong heartbeat pumping out of the baby monitor. After a false alarm visit earlier that week and pre-labor contractions, we exhaled with relief and began settling in. 

The first thing my sister did was lower the room temperature, even though the building was doing a good job countering the August heat. Funnily enough, we had watched Father of the Bride 2 a few days before because we could relate to the overheated-pregnant-lady-and-freezing-helpers scenario.

Setting up the space wasn’t just a former glitter-girl being “extra,” although I think a woman should own whatever makes her comfortable—or, should I say, reduces the unavoidable discomfort—in such a time as childbirth. But adding small comforts that make one feel safe and soothed does wonders for reducing stress, tension, and anxiety which heighten the perception of pain. Studies show that creating a positive birth environment helps to boost oxytocin which offers significant physiological relief and facilitates birth progress.

My sister had organized the bags of essentials days ahead of time. In addition to her personal items and pink hats and clothes for the baby (yes, they were having a girl), she packed her aromatherapy diffuser and lavender essential oil, peppermint massage lotion, a personal pink fan with bendable legs like a little octopus, and a string of small light bulbs that stuck to the doorway. Also, her beloved moon lamp that gave off a warm, yellowish glow.

Studies show that creating a positive birth environment helps to boost oxytocin which offers significant physiological relief and facilitates birth progress.

We also packed healthy snacks, of course: Chomp jerky sticks, homemade protein balls, pretzels, pumpkin seeds, walnuts, watermelon, and pineapple and dates (which help ripen the cervix). My brother-in-law’s Gorgie energy drinks later proved extremely useful in place of sleep as well.

In a few minutes, we changed the sterile hospital room into a cozy and peaceful ambience with dimmed lights for a relaxed and calm mood. Every time a new nurse or midwife came in after shift change, they always exclaimed in their Southern accents something to the impressed effect of “Wow, it’s so cozy, I wanna come hangout in here!” 

Early Labor

Side steps, baby lunges, hip stretches, crazy eights on the birthing ball during board games, side-stepping, hip presses, back massages… we had practiced it all over the last two weeks at home in addition to the daily prenatal workout. 

We three made a good team. Earlier in the process, we all talked about using humor and positivity to help counter stress and distract from the pain, so we kept that up in between contractions where my brother-in-law would be pressing her hips together simultaneously with pushing pressure points and I would be helping her breathe (breathing with her) and massaging her shoulders to relieve the tension.

Support System

I want to give an honorable mention to my brother-in-law who was consistently such a strong and loving support to my sister through the whole process without complaining. Positive husband support is so crucial to a woman in childbirth! 

Women need the person they love and are comfortable with to give her emotional encouragement as well as physical support (nurses mostly just check vitals).

Indeed, research emphasizes the importance of quality social support during childbirth, that it contributes to shorter labors, better pain management, and less need for interventions. Also, the positive presence and encouragement of a birth partner strengthens the birth mother’s confidence and sense of capability. 

Quality social support during childbirth contributes to shorter labors, better pain management, and less need for interventions.

Going into Labor & Delivery, we had seen a depressed-looking woman who had no one with her apart from a nurse—no support person, no family, no husband in sight. Probably on the way to postpartum care, she was being rolled out on a hospital bed, her scarf-wrapped head hanging limply to one side as her glazed eyes seemed to dejectedly stare into nothingness. Her black-haired, chubby baby was being rolled behind her.

It was heart wrenching to see. My sister, a very compassionate and empathetic person, watched the woman pass by and softly exclaimed, “Oh poor thing! Seeing that makes me so sad for her but also so grateful for my support system. I can’t imagine going through this alone.” She mentioned it again later during her active labor in between contractions, though I’d gently remind her to let the sad thoughts go so she could be present to her own needs.

The Waiting Game

Hours of back contractions kept us busy. The baby was at a rear position for a while, which put extra pressure on the lower back and made the contractions come hard and fast, literally back-to-back just a couple minutes apart but without making actual progress in dilation.

Moving in different positions around the room helped to pass the time. Birthing affirmations (still the British voice) and green noise with water sounds were peaceful reminders to stay calm and focused. Thank goodness for Spotify.

During her whole process, my sister never got snippy or harsh with either of us but was appreciative and even made little jokes here and there to keep up positivity. This also helped her to stay calm instead of tensing up. During or after a contraction, my brother-in-law or I would often remind her, “Just think of her little fingers, her little nose, aww!” She’d immediately light up. We even watched funny baby reels for distraction.

The midwife checked four hours after the 4 cm mark with an update of “no change.” Hours passed, night came, and we heard, “5 cm!” Again, no change for hours at 5 cm but still frequent contractions. It was easy to feel frustrated, but the midwife kindly reminded momma that her body was still making progress and readying for birth.

After hitting active labor at 6 cm after midnight, my sister was in a plateau for what must’ve been around 6-8 hours. I grabbed a few hours of sleep on the tiny couch in the room, but the parents-to-be labored through the night. 

The next morning, the sweet nurse and midwife on shift gave an encouraging little pep talk, then I let my sister and her husband have some alone time. My brother-in-law calmly encouraged her, told her she could do what it takes, and she got pumped up on a renewed wave of confidence and voted to try some new positions before considering Pitocin.

The Apple Shaking

They say you should learn something new every day. Well, I learned Shaking the Apple Tree during this labor.

Essentially, this assisted labor position aimed to nudge the baby out of the back in the pelvis, or another stuck position, and further it down the birth canal. While my sister was on hands and knees, the nurse stood behind her, draped a small towel across her hips, and used the ends to pull pressure and jiggle it from one side, then the other.

Another similar birth position was done while momma was laying on one side with her top leg hanging in front of her over the side of the bed, then the nurse would gently jiggle her hip in a circular rhythm during a contraction. After three contractions, we’d flip sides. My sister also slow danced with her husband and tried every position with the birthing ball imaginable. 

A Bit Of Help

That following day, the midwife suggested starting Pitocin. In fact, I think it was the second or third time she mentioned it, but this time my sister and her husband agreed it was time, though they’d wanted to avoid it.

My sister still refused the epidural offer, confident she could keep going. Remember, Pitocin speeds up labor and strengthens contractions. Most people who must get Pitocin also take an epidural, just because it is so intensely painful. Luckily, my sister has a very high pain tolerance and, once she sets her mind to something, she sees it through.

As the contractions intensified, my brother-in-law and I were constantly hands-on for the rest of the labor hours until after birth. We tried ordering Uber Eats, three times, and the deliveries never came to the right spot, so we just sipped water and grabbed a bite of our packed snacks here and there.

Transition

Finally, my sister started shaking and shivering, though she was still heated and sweating. Though my brain was saying, “phew, thank God,” I rubbed her shoulders and smiled eagerly, telling her, “It’s ok, remember when we talked about the transition phase? Just let it happen and breathe. This is exciting, it’s bringing you closer to seeing your little honey!” She bravely gave a quivering grin, exhaled, then braced herself for another big contraction and my brother-in-law and I assumed our positions like it was a fire drill. We had the routine down-pat.

The midwife did a dilation examination and expectantly announced, “8 cm!” It must’ve been somewhere around 5pm, but honestly, for the most part I lost track of the clock and the concept of time seemed so abstract. We felt like we were in a Twilight zone.

Seeing that phase manifest itself was a huge relief, because after all that time we were praying a C-section wouldn’t be necessary (no one said anything until reminiscing later, but we all had this worry on our minds). But the transition phase signaled her progress into the last (and most intense) stage of active labor. We were in the home stretch!

The One With The Pretzel

Big sis eventually felt extremely nauseous, so much so that she couldn’t handle the smell of food at all and wasn’t able to eat for about 20 hours. She ended up vomiting multiple times, especially after transition and close to pushing. Noises also became more distracting.

There was one point (we laughed about it later) when her starving husband grabbed a pretzel to eat—because the man hadn’t had time to eat anything all day and his stomach was hurting—and she grimaced, saying, “Sorry but can you go chew that over at the end of the room? I just can’t handle the smell, or the crunching noise.” He swiftly chowed down his pretzel 10 feet away and came back to help her during a contraction, but she almost gagged smelling the pretzel on him and asked him to go rinse his mouth. He gave a sweet “sorry, honey,” and proceeded to find his water bottle.

It could’ve been an episode in Friends, yet I tried my best to not burst out laughing.

The Prayer

Although the Pitocin dose started low, the nurse eventually upped it to level 8 (10 is highest). We had been pushing through 8 cm for a long time and her strength was fading. My sister had even tried pumping several times throughout the day to help labor progression.

When the nurse suggested increasing the Pitocin to 10, she exclaimed, “I can’t do that, not naturally! I just can’t,” then cried out that she felt she needed to poop. The nurse told her to hold it in since her cervix wasn’t fully thinned. She stepped out to get the midwife, and my sister asked us to pray together.

She was going on 30 hours without painkillers, was running on zero calories (she literally had nothing left in her to throw up), and going into the third day with no sleep.

We had prayed a few times already during the labor, saying the guardian angel prayer during contractions at one point. But this time it was so moving seeing my sister, worn out and drained, quietly storm heaven with her heartfelt prayer for strength and help. 

This woman was going on 30 hours without painkillers, was running on zero calories (she literally had nothing left in her to throw up), and going into the third day with no sleep. My brother-in-law and I were both concerned, and though I just barely kept her sipping water, she couldn’t keep anything down.

She eventually accepted the offer of laughing gas, which wasn’t a painkiller but was supposed to help her care about the pain less. However, it just made her groggy and more tired, so she stopped using it so she could handle the wrenching contractions. Then she reached 9 cm.

Time To Push

Once the midwife called for the delivery team, things got crazy. More nurses and midwives came in, even the emergency C-section team was there for backup, we later learned. Everyone got into place, and the midwife confirmed the cervix was fully thinned out. It was time to push.

Sweating and shaking, rocking back and forth on her hands and knees and yelling into a pillow, my sister mustered up every bit of strength left in her being. And I mean the definition of tigress energy mode! She said later that at a certain point she just had to embrace the pain and commit because there was no way but forward to end it; and in those last moments, she actually used the visual of a strong white tiger to keep herself motivated.

On her birth plan, my sister requested that people refrain from talking to her during pushing unless she asked so that she wouldn’t get overwhelmed with multiple voices speaking. After a few moments, she urgently asked for someone to coach her. While I had her back and the pressure points, her husband was supporting her arms and talking to her. Even though several voices were speaking, she said later she only heard her husband’s voice as she pushed. 

After a few minutes, my sister deliriously blurted, “I gotta stand up, I have to get up!” So the team raised a metal bar over the bed for her to lean over as she half-stood-squatted. After a few minutes, the midwife announced she could see the head. Then came the crowning, where the midwife almost shouted “stop pushing!” so the head could ease out gently. Then we went at it again.

Sweating and shaking, rocking back and forth on her hands and knees and yelling into a pillow, my sister mustered up every bit of strength left in her being.

Another minute later, after just 10-15 minutes of pushing total, there was one last push, a “here we go!” and baby glided out like she was on a slip and slide!

8:07 pm. About 30 hours of labor later, including about 16 hours of active labor with Pitocin. No epidural.

The nurses all crowded in to assist, so I stepped back and tried to film in between the blue caps. The midwife brought the baby, still connected with the umbilical cord, to my sister, who slowly brought the baby to her chest. Carefully leaning back, she smiled with joy and relief as she gently closed her eyes, exhausted. After a few minutes, my brother-in-law cut the cord, and they cleaned up the little princess.

Baby’s Golden Hour, Interrupted

They say it’s best to let momma bond with baby for the first hour after birth. This golden hour is sacred bonding time and helps the baby feel safe. Feeling that oxytocin rush, my sister and her husband happily gazed at their perfect baby girl, who first had skin-to-skin time with her momma then her daddy (while the placenta was coming out). She was a precious little miracle wrapped up like a burrito.

Unfortunately, just a few minutes later, the nurses had to take the baby away to the NICU for tests and monitoring. My brother-in-law followed to hold her tiny hand, not letting her out of his sight.

Meanwhile, I stayed with my sister (who was in an ecstasy of gratitude and relief). She munched on some pumpkin seeds and watermelon, since her nausea finally lifted and her breastmilk was on its way.

After the cleanup was finished, the nurses and I packed the room up and we made a little caravan down to postpartum care for their overnight room. At this point, it was almost 10:30 pm, so I rushed to Chipotle to get us all a decent bite and avoid the hospital excuse for food. When I came back, the healthy little cherub had latched perfectly and was nursing like a champ. She already had her mommy and daddy wrapped around her adorable little finger and pulled my heartstrings along with them.

It’s Not A Competition

People often assume that a woman’s choice to birth naturally is to win some kind of award and a big, pretty bow in which to wrap up her baby in its presentation to society.  Almost like a comparison of strengths in competing birth stories. But that’s not how it should be, and my sister chose an unmedicated birth simply to spare her baby as many chemicals as possible.

Although relaxing on painkillers would’ve been a much easier alternative, especially after needing Pitocin which exacerbated the contractions, she embraced the pain as much as she could for the sake of her baby’s optimal health.

Memory of the labor pain became a blur, she said later, but she also shook her head, “I don’t think I could do that again.” Good thing the first is usually the hardest, and new mothers will never have to endure a first-time birth experience again. But doing nearly the strongest dose of Pitocin without any painkillers? That’s next level.

Helping my sister through such a memorable experience and seeing my little niece come out into the world remains one of the most special highlights of my life. It was a wild ride, a raw and primal experience that seemed to summit physical womanhood in such a surreal and truly amazing way. I felt inspired and found myself wanting that excruciating pain for myself, seeing the female physiology reach its natural fulfillment in something men could never do and what scientists could never recreate. I came away in awe of our created bodies and the natural cycle of life, as well as in the power of mindset and strength found in love.