I’m a young, first time mom, heavily pregnant with triplets. I arrive at the hospital in early labor, deposit my husband in the waiting room, and am shaved, given an enema, and catheterized before any medication is administered. Once the meds start to take effect, my legs are strapped into stirrups and my arms tied to the side of the bed. For the next twenty hours, I writhe and scream in agony as the contractions get increasingly stronger. It feels like by body is being ripped apart but I’m too out of it to remember my own name, much less than I’m pregnant and in labor. The nurses mostly ignore my crying and moaning, casually chatting about their weekend plans as they make sure my restraints are still in place despite my desperate bucking. 
I awoke that morning feeling Braxton Hicks contractions in my belly but decided to just shrug it off for now. I was sure they'd stop once I had some food. I climbed out of bed as Brian continued to snore softly beside me and waddled to the bathroom to relieve myself. I was just getting ready to sit down so I could go when I felt a pop and water rushed down my legs soaking the bath mat.

“Ok Jensen, you really are nearly done. She’s right down now. I can see that she’s going to be a blondie like me, so how about you give me a really good one with the next contraction and we’ll see if we can get this done, yeah? What do you say?” the doctor coached as she used her hands to support the skin around their daughter’s tiny blood smeared head.
A mostly quiet birthHer nurses' uniform had grown tight over the last nine months, but somehow she'd managed to squeeze her girth into the white dress. She stood at the emergency room counter, watching as a woman about her size was wheeled in, hissing and panting. It was obvious the woman was in labour, her partner panicking beyond belief as he followed along beside her.
As soon as the scalpel finished its mutilation, he registered the sensation of the vacuum being placed on his daughters head, the movements tearing his already brutalized opening. The doctor started pulling without even waiting for a contraction and the hands were back on his belly, crushing his insides without care. Each compression sent another flash of agony through his anatomy but he couldn’t do anything other than scream for mercy.
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