I just witnessed my sister deliver her second child, marking the second time I've been with her in the labour room.
Each experience was unique, but one undeniable truth emerged: childbirth is a near-death ordeal for many women.
UNICEF data reveals a staggering maternal mortality rate in Nigeria of 576 per 100,000 live births, ranking fourth highest globally.
Here’s what I learned while in the delivery room with my sister:
1. What the pre-labour stage is
On Thursday evening, labour started with her water breaking. She was rushed to the hospital, and we began waiting for the elusive dilation and contraction period. While for many women, the water-breaking signals that dilation and contractions will begin, my sister wasn’t experiencing contractions, that would have been a red flag but the baby still had enough fluid protecting her.
So she began walking up and down the hospital street because such walks can quicken contractions and pain, making delivery happen faster. The anticipation was thick this time, but if my sister knew what was to come, she would have gone home, slept, bathed, watched a movie, and relaxed.
2. How long you have to play the waiting game
The first night in the hospital came and passed. It was now Friday, but she was just 2 cm dilated. The dilation speaks of the widening of the cervix for the baby's head to come out.
She was still relaxing, checking her phone, scrolling Instagram, but she was nervous, so she kept taking walks, hoping that contractions would become more frequent. I learned that contraction pain signals the baby is ready to come out, but my niece wasn’t ready yet. So she began walking again; she walked up and down the stairs, down the street, and around the hospital.
The pain came, but it was slight and manageable; we still chatted, and she ate some catfish. When real contractions start, the pain lasts for about 60 seconds; at that point, it was only five seconds of pain.
By evening, she was impatient and asked to be induced — this is an injection that makes the contraction pain more frequent — but the baby was still comfortable in her womb.
3. When real labour comes
On Sunday, proper labour finally came at 4 am. She was taken into the delivery room, and I can't even quantify the pain she felt. She was crying, screaming, and begging for the doctors to take the pain away. At that point, I wondered if giving birth was required and if there was another way to populate the world.
Her eyes rolled back in her head as she screamed; she was soon too tired to push and asked for surgery. Maternal exhaustion, the doctors said. Her husband couldn’t bear to see her in such pain, so he quickly signed the consent form.
The doctors were sceptical because they felt she could push the baby herself, so they stalled the operation. They kept saying they were preparing the theatre. In their defence, it was a Sunday, so the anaesthetist was not around. Meanwhile, my sister was asking me to go and call the MD, the doctors, or anyone to put her out of her misery.
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By noon, she was still screaming and shouting, and then she began praying some prayers that felt like life was going out of her. “It’s not time yet,” she said. I was so scared I played gospel music in her ears, and suddenly she let out a scream saying, "I want to poo," and the baby came.
I saw the baby's head popping out, and I screamed. Unfortunately, there were no doctors or nurses in the room, so I ran out to call them. The baby came out on her own. I remember looking at the sac the baby called home for nine months in her body as they pulled it out; it was full of blood.
They placed the baby on her chest, and I saw my sister crying as we were asked to leave.
After the doctors cleaned her up, we could laugh about how she acted, but she didn’t want to hear it; the pain was so traumatic she didn’t want to think about it. She confided in us later that she wanted to share her last words with us on the labour bed, and the one thing on her mind was for us to take care of her first baby. I cried when she said that a mother always thinks of her baby even in the face of what she felt was death.
I also had to contemplate my own experience in the future and how I would perform the miracle of bringing life into the world. I would have to settle for the least pain possible — a caesarean operation — but I guess time will tell.