Rush of Love? More like rush of overwhelm

Turns out birth ends in trauma, stitches, and a baby who doesn’t come with a manual

I read all the books. I practiced the breathing.

I visualised the painkiller-free water birth like I was auditioning for a wellness documentary.

I even bought a ‘cute’ tankini. It was going to be beautiful.

I knew the phases of labour. I was ready.

And then — oh fuck — the baby arrived, and not in a magical fashion. Not a single drop of water in sight. Just 72 hours of labour — hospital beds, IVs, and a quick descent from optimism into something far more feral.

Then Things got dicey.

I had a retained placenta. The crash cart arrived. They pried the baby away.

My husband stood there, thunderstruck — over-rocking her while she screamed and everyone treated them as though they were invisible.

Someone tried to get her to latch mid-chaos, like a breastfeeding relay race. I can’t remeber if it happened, i passed out.

After ‘the crash’, I couldn’t stand for a full day. Blood loss will do that.

That “rush of love”?

More like a rush of near-death adrenaline, sweat, panic — and the realisation, that even though I’d bought the baby furniture, I’d spent nine months preparing for the entrance, not the sequel.

I stared at this tiny human like she was a final exam I hadn’t studied for.

The midwife said, “Isn’t it magical?”

I said, “Honestly..? I’ve had better Tuesdays.”

She looked confused. I just stared blankly. We eventually moved on.

Survival Tips

• Know the rush of instant love is not universal. Shock usually is though.

• Let someone else hold the baby while you eat hospital toast and cry — bonus points if the toast has butter.

Tiny Win

•       No one died.