Men and the pain of labor

When I went in to have my daughter, I had decided that I did not want pain medication if I could avoid it. I studied about what to expect, and how to have a good labor. Many of the techniques that I used for reducing and dealing with labor pain were in literature or vidoes provided by the hospital. They were simple things, like keep your eyes open and focus on something outside yourself. Visualize your cervix expanding, not tensing muscles but rather focus on relaxing any muscle you have control over. When I went in, the first nurse tried to make me wear the hospital gown instead of my own gown and laughed when I said I did not want an epidural. I had her removed from the room and banned her from the room. None of the other nurses were combative, and were more gentle in their skepticism, but they clearly believed that I would be calling for the epidural before long. My doctor was not so skeptical, but he clearly was not used to dealing with women not on an epidural. He instructed me to push as hard as I could on my third push, and my daughter flew from me as I ripped open. He was quite surprised and obviously used to women who could not push that effectively.

I think more women don’t opt to go without an epidural because it is expected they will have one by medical professionals. Also, information about the realities of labor is buried in an avalanche of mis-information. And, the option not to use pain medication is billed as “the natural way” and hyped in a way that has very little to do with pragmatic reasons and everything to do with mysticism and looniness. There is no room in that camp for women who make decisions like, “I won’t use an epidural unless I have back labor.” It is an all or nothing, and rational thought is not encouraged.

I have seen more than one source that ranks passing kidney stones, passing gallstones, and having an ectopic pregnancy higher than childbirth on the pain scale. I have a child but never had labor. I HAVE had gallstones, and let me tell you, if that’s what labor feels like, IMO the human population would have gone extinct when birth control became reliable!

I think it should be noted, too, that labor pain is wildly variable - not only from one woman to the next, but from one delivery to the next for the same woman. I know a woman who experienced no pain at all - not even a little discomfort. She didn’t even realize she was in labor until her water broke. and it broke late - they barely had time to make it to the hospital.

Have not had kids. Have had kidney stones.

Have had many, including one the diameter of a quarter in one kidney and one the diameter of a dime in the other. I carried those rocks for several years, not knowing what I had – the perils of being underinsured or uninsured. All I knew is that once every few days I would have a Bad Day: I would throw up after eating anything more substantial than Jello or applesauce (and sometimes those would come back up) and writhe trying not to scream for a few hours. It lost me two jobs I know of – one where I was constantly absent and another the day before my surgery when my boss decided they didn’t want to wait for me to come back. :frowning:

The pain is… amazing. I remember having simultaneous food poisoning with diarrhea and kidney stones all at once. I remember kneeling on the floor in the bathroom in my university’s medical center, every orifice overflowing, sobbing in pain and humiliation. It’s vomiting, shitting, beyond-screaming pain. Medication only dulls it up to the point that it just knocks you out. I find it unlikely that labor would be worse.

Disc golfers are mostly hippies and stoners. I have real trouble believing that people are throwing at you. I’ve played disc golf in Alabama, Mississippi, Florida, Tennessee, Kentucky, Georgia, Colorado, Texas, and California, and have met and played with hundreds or thousands of disc golfers. Never have I once, EVER seen somebody purposefully throw a driver at an innocent bystander (of course, if it’s your buddies, that’s different.)

We’re having just the opposite issue at one of my local parks. The disc golf course has been there since the '70’s, and now they’ve put multi-use sidewalks winding through several of the fairways for the holes. People have to wait all the time for kids, joggers, bikers, etc. to clear out of the way before driving, and we have the added disadvantage of having lots of people who have no idea what disc golf looks like, or why that guy is up there on the concrete pad, holding a plastic disc, tapping his foot impatiently.

We were there first, damn it.

Doesn’t matter. It’s a public park. They have exactly as much right to play there as I do, and disc golf is a game which lends itself (mostly) to multi-use areas. It’s low-impact, the game has a culture of environmental responsibility, and most players are very aware of what’s going on downrange, since it is considered the WORST possible manners to throw into a group playing the basket ahead of you (seriously. You will get ostracized for repeated violations.)

I’d be willing to believe that some of the fairways are designed poorly with regard to sightlines, and that you may have run afoul of this, but I have trouble believing that anyone threw at you on purpose. Simply wouldn’t happen.

I cannot read minds and I haven’t stopped to talk to these people but I can tell you with 100% honestly and sincerity that the following situation has happened to me twice recently:

A disc flies, out of nowhere, within what seems like inches of my face. I look in the direction it came from, expecting the “oops” wave, and some grumpy motherfucker is walking towards me, glaring.

This (2, 3) is the park. I’m not sure if the pictures convey how well a guy in the brush, often on one of the hills, can see me (very well since the trails are clear, I’m 6’4" and ride a bigass bike and wear bright colors and a bright blue helmet) vs. how well I can see him (not at all unless he’s fat, wearing hot pink, and playing a tuba), but I hope that gives you some idea.

I have nothing at all against disc golf or disc golfers (in fact, got a set for xmas and can’t wait to try out the sport); this is just what’s happened.

You have my pity.

Awesome looking course. I’d love to play a desert course. Looks like you could do a lot of awesome high hysers. I play in thick woods, mostly, and tall trees are tough to throw over. If I may ask, which park is it?

As for the glaring asshole, was it the same guy both times? Is there a disc shop at the park? If so, you could report the guy there. They’ll usually make sure the guy is straightened out. Also, if there is a local disc golf association, they’ll usually have a website with forums. You should most definitely post there and air your concerns.

In any case, I hope it’s all in your head, and if it’s not, I’m sincerely sorry it happened. Crap like this makes all of us look bad.

Thank you! I did read something else on the subject a few years back, and it was attributed to a whole different set of causes. Either way, a whole lot of things would be explained.

Now I can enjoy being a dirty old man without wondering if I’m genuinely old. And it all happened before I got my first wrinkle.

But I want my AARP benefits, dammit. And a lawn, so’s I have something to tell those damn kids to get off of.

Hold on a second. Frisbee golf is a real game, not something my elementary school gym teacher invented to punish people with poor hand-eye coordination?

I agree with this wholeheartedly. When I opted for natural childbirth, my mom said, “Oh, you’re one of those people. You’ll cave. I know you will.” It was like people thought I was doing it to prove how tough I was and not because I’d made an educated decision.

Of course, labor being what it is, things didn’t go well and I wound up with an epidural after my body began shutting down after an excruciating 32 hours of labor. I became eclamptic after the labor and, you know what? Recovery from eclampsia was a hell of a lot more painful and frightening than labor itself. I was forced to lie in bed for four days in the hospital with a catheter with people waking me every 20 minutes to take my vitals. Add to that a screaming baby who desperately needed attention I was unable to give him. It was like torture. I also had a migraine for a full two weeks after giving birth and was therefore unable to eat or drink. So, in my opinion, giving birth is absolutely not the most painful thing I’ve ever gone through. I deserve no badge of honor for having given birth. Or even for the eclampsia and migraine. It was just something my body did for some reason and I had to work through it to take care of my responsibilities to my son, my husband and myself.

As mentioned earlier, everyone’s pain is different. And if you’re an adult, you get through it and move on whether you’re male or female.

I agree with all who have said that it’s an impossible contest. Different people experience things differently, regardless of gender.

I wonder if it can go the other way too, though. In the months leading up to my labour, I went to the classes and read the books and practised and stretched and breathed. I felt very prepared and was rather excited about the experience. I understood that there would be pain, but I also believed that my body was made to do it and I would be able to breathe and focus my way through with grace and joy. I wonder if I coddled myself into unrealistic expectations of it not being too bad…

My contractions started out hard-core and right from the start were over a minute long, with only about a minute in between. It felt pretty much like has been described by a couple of people here - a terrifying, all-consuming, raging agony that completely took away any control I had over my mind or body, such that I didn’t understand until later that the screaming I heard when I tore was my own.

And then, because I did believe that having a baby shouldn’t have to be a dramatic, soap-opera style moaning and groaning and screaming affair, I was ashamed at how I’d handled it and mad at myself for not being stronger.

Now as I enter my second trimester with my second, I am working on finding a balance between being thoroughly terrified of the experience and the perhaps naive optimism I had with my first.

After my daughter was born, one nurse asked me how long my labour was, and when I answered 8 hours, unlike most others who told me how lucky I was, she (bless her soul!) said, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” As it turned out, she had been in labour for 36 hours with her first, and she managed quite well, so was shocked when her second came in only 9 hours and was much worse. She said that with her first things had started gradually and she had time to get used to the sensations and learn to cope with them, but with the second, like me, things started out intense from the get-go and never quit. I think that really illustrates how the experience of labour can differ from woman to woman and baby to baby, as well as perceptions of what makes a labour painful.

Yes, it’s real, and there are even pros. Check out www.pdga.com.

Since honestly, the pain stories are the most entertaining part of this thread, let me share with you my experience. I call it “the time I almost killed my cat”.

My living room at the time had vaulted ceilings (ancient apartment building, very cool) and I had an 8’+ high bookcase next to a poofy chair with a reading lamp, very cushy. Due to the arrangement of the other, lesser bookshelves, the cats could easily climb up to the top of the tall shelf with little effort whatsoever, and we saw no need to discourage this, as they’d tend to jump back down the same way, no worries.

One day I am sitting in my living room with some friends, I’m in the reading chair. My little (9lbs) cat is atop the bookshelf, looking around with interest. I’ve nearly forgotten this fact as time slows to a near standstill. I see my buddy on the couch across from me start to get up with his mouth forming a perfect Austin-Powers-style slo-motion “NOOOOO!”, and in the half-second it takes to register this, it’s already too late.

You see, darling kitty had decided she wanted to come down and join us in the conversation. And hey, there’s Daddy’s lap right there! I’m allowed to jump into that and then I get petted and called a good kitty!

Back to my perception of the incident. For a nanosecond, I see a blur of grey cat go in front of me, and then the world exploded. Do the math, if you will–6.5’ height difference times gravity times nine pounds landing on two paws each just under a square inch. Now take that force and apply it directly and completely to squashing the twins between said paws and my thighs. Now imagine the cat’s misjudged her landing speed and decides the safest course is to bounce off and land on the floor instead, including a secondary takeoff hop with the back paws on Mr. No Longer Happy.

Yeah. No vomiting, but I’m told my eyes glazed over for a second or two before I passed out and fell onto the floor. Somewhat ironically, I came to with my wife freaking out and the cat licking my face, wondering what had happened to me and meowing her extreme amounts of concern and desire to flay the fucker who made me fall over and go fetal when she was expecting imminent pettings and laptime.

I never want anything to hurt like that again, thanks. It was a while before I could stand, a day before I could walk or really stand to eat anything, and that with the ice pack on the groin. You could make out toes in the paw-shaped bruises.

I agree with Elret - there is no way to know beforehand just what your own pain or labor is going to be like. With my first, I was not totally opposed to medication, but I went in with the intention of trying everything else first. The hospital was supportive, and supplied everything like whirlpool tubs, balls, massage, etc. I had read everything I could find to educate myself, had a fairly high pain tolerance, knew how to breathe, all of that.

I was totally unprepared for the level of pain that occurred. I mean, completely and 100% overwhelmed by it. Breathing was a joke. I had back labor and even the drugs only took the edge off, they did not ease the pain. I was in agony and I had no feeling of joy or anticipation, only the horrible all encompassing feeling of needing the pain to stop.

My second child, I feared labor. I was fully expecting to get an epidural immediately. Instead, I had a relatively easy birth, even though it was pitocin-induced after my water broke. I was on max. dosages of pitocin for hours with no pain medication, and that is ‘supposedly’ a very painful labor. I only had about an hour of real pain at the end, and even that was nothing approaching my first birth.
After experiencing both of those, I would never tell a woman that “if you do this, you can expect this outcome” when it comes to childbirth, because you just don’t know. I see no reason why a woman should refuse medication when she is in horrible pain, and telling women you can learn to get through it, or if you were more relaxed, or educated, or whatever, you would have a happy birth experience is bull, IMO. Your labor is like a living creature on its own and it is not something you can just control.

As far as pain scale goes, I have also had full-blown gall bladder attacks so strong I simply stopped eating rather than experience them again until I had emergency surgery to remove it. I would definitely compare them to labor, in fact I found myself breathing through it much the same way I tried to endure the labor pains.

First labor = 10, for a long long time.
Gall bladder attack = 9 for about 20 minutes.
Second labor = 8, but only at the end.

Asking someone to compare pain with someone else is pointless, going through the same thing can vary wildly even with the same person.

I’ve seen the term “back labor” a couple times now in this thread. From the context (like “No drugs unless I have back labor”) it sounds like something that’s even worse than regular labor. What does “back labor” mean? Wikipedia mentions that a “birthing ball” may help during back labor, but doesn’t have an article about back labor itself.

Back labor means pain during labor that’s focused in your back. It’s usually (but not always) caused by a baby who’s sunny-side up - facing the abdomen instead of the mom’s spine. His hard head (the occipital lobe is harder than the face) and spine sort of scrape their way down the inside of her vertebrae, instead of the softer surface of her belly.

It ain’t fun. Been there, done that, with an infant with scoliosis, no less. Damn that crooked little spine of his! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!

Good luck with that.

Oh, hey, that’s how I was born. I didn’t realize there was a name for it. Mom thought that her tailbone was broken during delivery.

(She still says that her menstrual cramps were more painful.)

Boy, I sure am glad I’m never giving birth!

The real name for the presentation of the baby which is most often correlated with back labor is “posterior presentation”. It’s only called “sunnyside up” by the OB nurses when they think you’re not listening. :wink:

A somewhat foreign concept to those of us who aren’t really, really gay. :slight_smile: