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Soldiers of the Invisible Front
The day of childbirth is one that women always remember. It’s a special day, recounted with feeling, like a great battle. “Those who fought deserve to sit by the quiet river,” they joke.
Once, a long time ago, in the university library, I came across a graduate thesis titled, “Why Women Love to Recall and Share Their Birth Stories.” The author argued that this habit stems from a desire to reassure themselves that they did everything right on that special day.
But I believe it goes much deeper. As women navigate the long journey of motherhood, they return to that day to find solace — both in moments of joy and in times of despair.
I have two close friends, Inna and Olga, both from Siberia. They both became mothers in 1999 — one in December, in Omsk, Russia, and the other in July, in Santa Fe, USA. Each of them shared their birth stories with me in vivid detail and with heartfelt warmth. Believe me, this adventure, and this joy of seeing your child for the first time, knows no borders and no nationality.
They say life isn’t about the days that pass but about the ones that leave a mark. A woman will always remember the day she gave birth.
Inna, Omsk, 1999, First Birth
My contractions started in the evening, around 9:30 p.m. By 1 a.m., my mom decided to call an…
