Cosmo Asks 18 Women to Describe Childbirth

Stephanie Pritchard | Poetry

This feeling is permanent,

like someone else has taken

over. Look for a way

to escape your own body.

Hours have passed.

Pushing a baby feels like hot peppers:

pressure breath pressure pain

I was dying.

I could do this every day.

You can't tell the difference.

A twist against my spine like fire,

a forceful push from inside and

hours have passed.

Abdominal muscles seize, a pause

before the rest crawls out

of my skin, bone-on-bone

as their heads grind through the birth canal.

Remember this moment:

a shake. a knock.

I left my body. I lost

my mind.

Art credit: "Seated Clowness" (1896) by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec via the National Gallery of Art