Around 3 a.m., my waters broke. About an hour later, the contractions started—interesting ones, fluctuating between every 10 minutes and then every 3 minutes. I stayed at home for another 5–6 hours. When I couldn’t sleep anymore, I took a shower and had something to eat. The classes had taught me to conserve my energy.
By 9 a.m., when we arrived at the hospital, we had to wait in the parking lot for a bit because there was a queue at reception. When I was finally checked, I was 4 cm dilated. Then came a mountain of paperwork, signing forms a hundred times. I barely read anything—I just signed. They then took us to the labor room and left us alone. We turned on my labor playlist, I tried to move around, and my husband massaged me as best he could.
Around 1 p.m., my husband went to ask for an epidural. The shift had changed, and a new doctor, A. Keblikienė, came in. She checked the dilation and said, “It’s time—you’re giving birth.” Pushing was hard at first because I didn’t know where to direct my strength, but somehow I managed. No instruments were needed, and I didn’t have an episiotomy. There’s a moment when you have to stop pushing and breathe to avoid tearing—I almost caught that moment. In the end, I only needed two small stitches, just a minor tear.
At 1:32 p.m., my little daughter was on my chest.
She arrived into the world fairly easily, with my labor playlist in the background. The emotions were unusual—at the moment, it didn’t feel like a whirlwind, but looking back, it really was. It was hard to believe it was all over—I had given birth. A huge wave of joy came over me, but I couldn’t fully explain the feeling. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. My husband recorded the sounds throughout. Listening to the recording now, it feels surreal how calm everything seemed.
