Childbirth-in your life and around the world

The birth of a child is such a memorable event, an event that is so natural, yet sometimes, we chose to complicate it!

It was 14 years ago, four months into my second pregnancy, my husband and I along with our 15 month old son relocated to our new home in Houston, Texas. I chose a doctor, a hospital, and attended all my prenatal appointments. I even took a 45-minute guided tour to visit the nursery, labor, delivery, and postpartum areas. December 17^tharound ten o’clock at night, I felt some cramping, so I visited the restroom and sure enough, my water had broken. With my son wrapped in his favorite blanket, the three of us headed to the hospital. I was admitted immediately and within an hour from my arrival, I was in a hospital gown, with an IV in my arm, a monitor belted around my belly, and resting in my private labor and delivery suite. I was asked if I needed any pain killers or an epidural, but I opted out for I am a needle phobic and the thought of a needle going into my spine was not going to happen. I even had my husband promise not to allow it even if the pain got too much and I actually begged for it.

I was left to labor in peace throughout the night. Both my husband and my son were with me in the room, the admitting nurse was nice to allow my son to stay in the room and brought the two of them some pillows to sleep on. By 6:00am I was only 5cm dilated and not progressing, the doctor ordered the nurse to administer Pitocinto speed up the process. My husband left with my son for an hour to change him and feed him. The pain started to get stronger and I continued to labor for the next five hours. I asked for a painkiller and was immediately granted my wish. Around 11:00 am, the pain was unbearable and I felt the urge to push, I informed the nurse and within five minutes the room was transformed into a delivery room and my doctor appeared out of thin air to deliver a 7.14 lbs beautiful baby girl at exactly 11:12am.

By now you are probably wondering where my husband and my son are. Well, the nice nurse’s shift ended, and the new nurse refused to let my son into the room, so my husband had to stay with him outside just across the hallway. Once I was ready to push, one of the nurses snuck out of the room and babysat my son for about ten minutes while my husband joined me and witnessed the delivery of our daughter.

Out of all three of my children, I chose to share the birth of my daughter because it was the most peaceful and private. Having my husband and my son in the room gave me a sense of calmness and helped me control the pain for most of the time. Looking back, I believe my birth experience with my daughter impacted both of us. Having her in my arms within seconds of her birth was very important, in addition, the hospital encouraged rooming-in, therefore, my daughter stayed with me in my private recovery room for all three days I was there. A lactation nurse visited me repeatedly and helped me breastfeed her. All of these factors helped prepare me as a mother even though I was already one.

To compare my experience of giving birth here in the United States to that of another country or region of the world, I don’t have to look far, for I indeed experienced it myself. Before we relocated to Houston, Texas, my husband was working as an IT consultant in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, and that was where I experienced giving birth for the first time in my life.

Being pregnant for the first time, my husband and I attended all prenatal appointments and educated ourselves on what to expect, or so we thought! My due date was nearing a religious holiday, so my doctor suggested inducing me before she goes on vacation! To speed up the process, at my last office visit, she performed a "Membrane sweep", a process where she moves her finger around the cervix to stimulate and separate the membranes around the baby from the cervix. This causes a release of prostaglandins which can help to kick-start labor. She also suggested that I drink Castor oil which is believed to induce labor if taken in large quantity. Two days later, I was still intact with no sign of delivery.

On the day I was due, I decided to walk four laps around our house block, a total of a mile. Around 2 am that night, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, as soon as I got out of bed to use the restroom, a gush of water was pouring down my legs. Once we arrived at the maternity ward, my husband was asked to stay outside, he was not allowed in. I was wheeled into a small room and placed on a bed hard as a rock. Later, my doctor showed up and after checking me, she strapped the monitor on my belly, the IV in my arm and started the Pitocin. I stayed in that room for about four hours. Of course there was no mention of any painkillers let alone an epidural.

Pregnancy and childbirth customs are more traditional and conservative in the Kingdom than perhaps most other places. The tradition is such that when the wife goes into labor she will be admitted to the hospital where perhaps a female family member and the hospital staff will assist her through her labor and delivery. The husbands are not by their wives side and instead usually wait in a male-only waiting area for the news of the birth. If a woman is giving birth in a government-run hospital, this practice of no men in the labor/delivery area is further enforced. But since I was delivering in a private hospital, the doctor was able to get my husband a waiver to attend the delivery because it was my first child and I had no family members in the country.

Once I was dilated and ready to push, I was wheeled into what looked like an operating room,to my surprise, my husband was waiting for me there. The doctor placed an oxygen mask on my face and asked me to breath from my mouth, the pain was getting unbearable and I couldn’t even scream because of the mask. Just as everyone was cheering me on and asking me to push, I was knocked out. Apparently, the oxygen mask I was given delivered an anesthetic gas that knocked me out of seeing the moment of my son’s birth. Two hours later, I woke up in a recovery room with my husband waiting anxiously besides me. I repeatedly asked to see my son and was finally able to hold him in my arms four hours after giving birth. I struggled to breastfeed him and continued to do so. Three days after my delivery, I was discharged and my journey as a mother began.

Although I had firsthand experience with childbirth in that country, I was curious to further investigate child birth traditions in the kingdom to see if my experience was the norm. This is what I found:

Birth in Saudi Arabia has as many similarities as it has differences to birth in the United States. One similarity is that the medical model has arrived in the big cities and is here to stay. With it has come a significant increase in cesarean sections, 80% over a 10 year span. In Saudi culture “natural” birth simply means “vaginal,” rather than “non-medicated.” Unlike the United States, a single room for labor, delivery, and recovery is unheard of. Mothers are wheeled back to operating theaters, even for natural births, and fathers are often times not permitted to enter. Fathers are considered little more than seed-planters in the childbearing process. They are not expected to attend and some doctors act as if the request for such a thing is absurd! A rare few are open to it. Early bonding with mom is not facilitated as babies are quickly whisked away to hospital nurseries. Early bonding with dad isn’t even a consideration as it is customary for the new mother and baby to spend her first 40 postpartum days in the home of her mother, away from her husband. Childbirth education is also virtually unknown and women enter their labor and birth with little option other than to hand their bodies over to the obstetrician like a car to a mechanic.

Even though both deliveries took place in a hospital, two continents apart, each experience left its own impression and memories on me as a mother. I went through a period of postpartum depression after the birth of my son. I remember dreading the time my husband would leave the house to go buy diapers. I didn’t want him to leave me alone for even one second. I love all of my children the same way, but perhaps the effect of the birthing experience has an impact on the mother herself, rather than the bond between her and her child. For that bond will always remain as natural as childbirth.