When I say that I could give birth again and again, people give me a crazy look. But that’s truly how I feel, and I’m so grateful to everyone and everything that I went through birth without any trauma at all.
My baby girl’s due date was February 7, but it was so warm in my belly that she wasn’t in a hurry to come out. After a week, the Vilnius maternity ward was already threatening to induce labor, but I knew there was no need to rush. When we went to the Kaunas Christian Maternity Hospital, they gave us an extra three days. I felt wonderful the whole time, so, despite the winter weather, I walked outside every day, went to prenatal yoga every other day to stretch and breathe, and relaxed my muscles in the pool and sauna.
My parents were surprised by how calm I was and joked that she’d be named Valentina, since this unborn little one was so loved, awaited, and “massaged.” But she wasn’t meant to be Valentina - on the morning of February 16, while brushing my teeth, the mosaic tiles in the bathroom flickered before my eyes a few times. I had slept well, but my head felt light and distant.
I shared how I felt with my doula, Evelina. She was thrilled and suspected that we might be celebrating a birthday today. I didn’t feel any contractions yet, so I decided to go to yoga with another of my pregnancy journey guides, Aurelija. Halfway through the class, during some pelvic-floor asanas, I started feeling mild cramps. I didn’t track the time, I was just focused on doing the exercises properly.
After class, Aurelija asked if I needed a ride, but I didn’t think so, so I declined. She smiled and said that mothers always know best. I felt strong, the contraction tracker was showing a wild rhythm, but I didn’t think I was actually in labor. Honestly, I thought these were just preparatory contractions, since they weren’t that bad - I could still do things.
When I got home, I slipped into the bathtub, thinking it would relax my body, but the contractions got stronger. Soon, Netflix was replaced by silence and the occasional sound of water gently sloshing. I got out because I started feeling uneasy. I paced around the house, lay on the exercise ball, hugged the dog, lay in bed — but nowhere felt comfortable anymore. The contraction tracker showed consistency now, but I could still function and force a crooked smile.
My husband told me to call Evelina, and after talking with her, we decided to meet in Kaunas.
Ahead of us - 100 kilometers, on a Thursday afternoon. I could see the worry on my husband’s face. Probably because of the traffic and weather, but he didn’t say it out loud. Somewhere near Elektrėnai, I started feeling intense waves - something I had never felt before. The contractions were coming regularly every two minutes, washing over me like huge waves.
I realized it was either me or them. I clenched my fists, unzipped my jacket, and began breathing deeply. I couldn’t hear or see anything around me - just the waves and the thought, don’t drown. I came to my senses in the hospital courtyard.
My husband reached out his hand, I got out of the car, and we ran to the admissions area. And from that moment, we were just running. The doctor was checking the baby’s heartbeat, my husband was pacing and glancing at his watch, asking:
— “Today?”
The doctor, Monika, started laughing and said:
— “Not just today — right now.”
8 centimeters.
I handed her my birth plan and ran down the dark corridor in just my underwear and socks toward the birthing room. I saw a bathtub and looked at the midwife hopefully. She looked sad and said we wouldn’t make it in time.
Evelina rushed in, helped me change, I grabbed onto the rebozo rope, and tried to survive the storm shaking my body. I was in a complete haze — all I could feel were my husband’s hands on my hips and Evelina’s aromatic magic.
Even though there were three of us in this small boat and everything felt so dark, I could feel the powerful, almost otherworldly support of all the women in the world.
At one moment, Evelina suggested calling the midwife — the next, I was already pushing. The midwife worked quietly in the darkness like a little mouse — I could hear everyone’s breathing.
One, two — and the baby was on my chest, curling and taking her first “steps” toward food.
In 2023, at 18:02 on February 16, she was born — and I was reborn. There’s no fuller feeling inside me than being a mother. I am overflowing with gratitude for my daughter and for this experience.
