Under the Influence

The bag stood by the bed. Ready. I had prepared it a month ago, following the recommendations. They suggest soothing music, something optimistic, energy bars, and sheets scented with the comforting smell of home. Recommendations. Into the bag, I placed a tracksuit and disposable underwear. Heavy-duty maternity pads for maximum absorption. What else was needed? I had lists, but half of it was nonsense. What does a woman about to give birth really need? Crystals and an updated birth plan? Merciless pain mocks such a list, and I too joined in the mockery with a kind of inner honesty. Facing such pain, one needs substances more potent than scented body lotions and fleeting feminine delights.

Before the contractions had started, I harbored a fear of being torn apart during birth, of my body being shredded into bleeding pieces of flesh. But now, as waves of pain surged and receded within me, fear became a guiding force, brutal but decisive and clear. A blazing sun in a gloomy room. Everything uncertain became clear and resolute. 

House keys, phone, wallet, sweater. Only a few minor items remained, and there was still time. I’d forgotten a hair tie. Yes, a hair tie is very important. Even now, my damp hair was irritating the sweaty nape of my neck.

The pressing need of my bladder forced me to rise and waddle to the toilet. Again with the wiping, the flushing. Yesterday’s greasy Chinese food didn’t help. What do you think about when you’re about to give birth? Not grand thoughts of...