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I remember the day I birthed my son. It feels like yesterday. He came two weeks earlier. Perfectly on time. It started with nausea. Then came throwing up. As you can already tell, it was no pretty sight. It only gets worse. It was chilly despite the scorching January sun. But that wasn’t what set the warning bells off. That spot was reserved for my water, or rather my amniotic fluid breaking. It wasn’t a gush. Just a trickle that wouldn’t stop. Then I had the sudden urge to pee. That’s when the pain started. At first, it was sudden. And then it became constant, like a bug that wouldn’t fly away. I always say I have a high pain tolerance but not that day. On the toilet seat, with my pants down phone in hand, I bawled my eyes out. I just kept saying I needed my mom even though I knew she couldn’t hear me. And then there was no pain all the way to hospital. I remember pinching myself at how big a fuss I made over measly braxton hicks. I remember getting to hospital and being rushed. And then they checked my dilation. It hurt. I screamed. And with the pain came more pain – a contraction. All I heard was “You are 6cm dilated and in delivery mode.” And that is when everything became a blur. I threw up, again. I wasn’t allowed to use the washrooms. I was put in an ugly hospital gown and told to walk – helps the baby descend faster. I tried to walk, I really tried. I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t strong enough. And then my gynaecologist arrived. By this point I was beyond livid. I don’t remember why. I remember him checking my dilation. I remember asking when all this would be over. I remember him saying he would check on me again in four hours. I remember thinking I wouldn’t last that long. I tried to walk again. I really did try. I just couldn’t. Then 30 minutes later, I felt like using the washrooms(I decided not to be too graphic to save face). They wouldn’t believe me, the nurses. They thought I was just a child who was tired of pain. But I screamed, I screamed because I knew what I was saying. I screamed because I was tired of the pain. And in less than half an hour, my baby boy was placed on my stomach. And for the first time in three hours, I breathed.