In the summer of 1996, I answered questions for someone who was doing a study of the experience of childbirth for survivors of sexual abuse. I am putting what I wrote up here because I wanted to share it with a couple of people I know who were wondering about how their issues would affect their pregnancy. Please be careful about reading this--it tends to emphasize all the minor things that can go wrong. If you are pregnant, and a worrying type, it might just give you more things to worry about.

First child: I felt continous nausea (though I only vomited a couple of times) and very tired and generally miserable for the first four months. We had genetic testing by Chorionic Villus Sampling (CVS--done earlier than amniocentisis), which was a good experience, and learned that I was carrying a boy (I'm glad we had a chance to get used to the idea--I am one of four girls and so it seemed a surprise).

I continued to work full-time, though I didn't really have enough energy. At 30 weeks, I grew concerned about the number of Braxton-Hicks contractions I was having and was diagnosed with pre-term labor. I spent 7-weeks on complete bed rest (up for only half an hour a day, counting going to the bathroom). I was on a home monitor and medication (terbutaline/breathine) first by pill and then by subcultaneous pump. I found the whole bedrest experience very difficult, but I managed to follow instructions. Everytime I went out of the house (for example for obstetrical appointments), I ended up with too many contractions, which were stopped with extra medication. We arranged for a Lamaze instructor to come to our home, and I spent a lot of time on the phone arranging to meet hospital rules for early discharge (I wanted to go home in 24 hours or less).

I went off the medication and bedrest at about 36 1/2 weeks (a few days earlier than the doctors had wanted because I said I couldn't take it any longer). I had contractions every five minutes for a week--we went to the hospital (35 miles away) and were sent home again at least three times.

Finally my water broke, and I went to the hospital. I wasn't in very serious labor, so the midwife had me walk around for awhile. When the contractions began to get worse, I asked for something to help the pain a little (I had previously decided I didn't want an epidural. I am someone who prefers to avoid medication) and was given a shot of Stadol. That nearly put me to sleep, and apparently relaxed me so that things went faster. When I got fully back to an awake state, I was around 9 cm. My contractions actually stopped for about half an hour. I enjoyed the break, but the midwife worried and had me walk around. When the contractions started up again I moved very quickly into pushing, which I found definitely easier to bear.

I pushed for about half an hour, the midwife did a small episiotomy, and my son was born in the early afternoon about 10 hours after my water broke. He weighed 7 lbs. 3 1/2 oz. and had no problems--he never left my room. I remember that when the head started to emerge, the midwife asked me if I wanted to touch it and I vehemently said no. I was able to hold him immediately, and I was on my feet within a few hours and went home the next morning.

I don't have a clear sense of how my abuse history affected my childbirth experience. It meant a great deal to me to have a motherly midwife, and I definitely wanted to avoid being in the hospital (though I had never been hospitalized as a child). I felt a good bit of anxiety and mild depression during pregnancy; I saw a therapist (who didn't turn out to be very helpful) until bedrest made that impossible. I don't think I told any of the doctors and midwives that I was a sexual abuse survivor, though I remember thinking about telling.

I was afraid of my son's dependence, and after a difficult day would feel that I didn't have any more to give. However, I felt very competent and very bonded from the beginning. Sometimes I told people that having a difficult pregnancy made life with a newborn seem easy by comparison. I felt that I was able to give my child love in a way that I hadn't been given love when I was a child. Sometimes, I felt like I had overdrawn my bank account because I was giving more love than I had on deposit. I turned to my husband at those times, which didn't work very well. Usually, after a few hours of feeling I couldn't cope anymore, I would be able to give again. Luckily my husband does not work long hours at the office, and so he really has done a significant share of childrearing.

I breastfed my son for 9-months before weaning him to a cup. I went back to work part-time when he was 8-weeks old and had him in daycare about 6-hours a day. I pumped milk for his bottles at daycare. I was proud of having lots of milk and how he grew getting all his nourishment from me. I took advantage of his diminishing interest in nursing to wean him fairly early and felt a lot of relief about not being tied down to nursing anymore.

Second child: I didn't feel quite as miserable during the second pregnancy, though again it was hard to keep up with my life. I was put on a home monitor and partial bedrest at about 5-months, but I kept working part-time and even made a business trip and a trip to my parents' house in New Jersey taking my monitor with me and spending half the day lying down. Most of that time, I wasn't on medication, though I spent one week on full bed rest and started taking pills towards the end. I went off the medication and bedrest at about 36 weeks.

For almost 4-weeks, I had contractions every 15 or 20 minutes and was dilated to 3 cm. I was very large (I gained about 50 lbs. during each pregnancy and didn't loose it all afterwards. I couldn't worry about eating carefully and still have enough energy to keep working). I was desperately miserable--it had never occurred to me that I wouldn't have the baby at least two weeks early (like all the babies in my family).

Finally, the doctors agreed to induce me on my due date, or rather one day later because I didn't like the idea of an April 1 birthday. I went into more serious labor the night before the induction was scheduled, and so all they had to do was break my water. When it turned out to be more painful than my first labor, I asked for a shot, which didn't do much, and then for an epidural.