The Moment I Was Told to Hold Her In
- Makenzie F. Roper
- May 6
- 2 min read
A raw birth story detail, and what I have learned about my rights.
When I was in the final stage of labor, crowning and ready to push, I heard something I’ll never forget: “Bear down, but don’t push.”
My daughter was ready.
My body was ready.
But my doctor… was in another room delivering someone else’s baby.
So the nurse looked me in the eyes clearly told me
to resist the most primal urge I’ve ever felt in my life.
To wait.
I was told to hold her in.
What followed was more than just a delay in delivery—it was a trauma I’m still unpacking.
It’s been four years since that day, and I still feel pain in my tailbone. I still feel tension in my body where my power was paused. And I’m only just now learning how common—and how deeply wrong—this kind of experience is. Whether it was a “freak accident” or not… I felt it, and still do.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
1. Pushing is a reflex, not a request.
When a woman reaches the fetal ejection phase, her body begins pushing whether she wants to or not. Telling someone to “bear down but don’t push” is not only confusing—it’s physically dangerous.
From what I have read, it can lead to:
✷ Pelvic floor trauma
✷ Tailbone injuries or bruising
✷ Longer recovery
✷ Birth complications
2. Hospitals often prioritize liability over physiology.
I wasn’t asked what I needed. I wasn’t honored in that sacred moment. I was managed—because the system wasn’t ready, and they didn’t want someone else (like a nurse) to deliver the baby for fear of liability or breaking protocol.
That delay didn’t serve me or my daughter.
It served their system.
3. I had rights—I just didn’t know them.
I had the right to informed consent, to understand what was happening, and to have my body honored. But when you’re in labor, you’re in a completely different state of consciousness.
That’s why education beforehand, and accountability afterward, matters.
Now I know.
Why I’m Sharing This
I’m sharing this story not to shame the nurses or even the doctor, but to speak to the system—one that often fails to see women as the authority in their own births.
If you’ve ever felt confused or disempowered during your birth experience, I want you to know:
✷ You are not alone.
✷ Your story matters.
✷ It’s not too late to ask questions or reclaim your voice.
I am planning to request my full birth records. I’m working with somatic-based practices and beginning training with Caelin at ConnerFit to address the physical trauma. And I’m giving space for the emotional healing to rise up, day by day.
If you’re planning a birth or healing from one:
✷ Know your rights.
✷ Surround yourself with people who trust your body.
✷ Ask questions before, during, and after.
✷ And don’t be afraid to speak up—even if your voice shakes.
Our bodies are not machines.
Our babies are not tasks on a to-do list.
We are sacred, sovereign, and strong—even when the system forgets.
Thanks for being here.
xx, Mackenzie

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