When I found myself pregnant early in 2007, many fellow expats and friends back home naturally assumed I’d return to America for the birth of our child. Others suggested Thailand, or perhaps, in a pinch, Hong Kong. Most all were surprised, and a little shocked, when I told them I planned on giving birth in Kunming, a second-tier city not renowned for being particularly medically advanced.

I reasoned that childbirth was not, despite the general mood in back home in America, a medical emergency. I would laughingly say to my friends that China certainly had more than enough successful births under its belt, which was true. And while China’s infant mortality rates might be higher than those of say, the USA, Japan, or Sweden, I would be giving birth in a modern facility in a big city, not in some backwater town out in the boonies, where most true medical emergencies happened. Not to mention, my husband and his three brothers were born in just such a backwater town, and they turned out happy and healthy. I had been going to my monthly checkups at a Chinese hospital, and felt completely comfortable with the level of care I was receiving. They did the same tests, performed the same exams, and seemed, if anything, overly cautious, advising a strict diet, ordering ultrasounds at the slightest hint of a problem, and rushing to induction when mothers reached their due dates.

That said, any woman preparing to give birth in a second-tier city in China, without a sparkly international hospital with Western doctors and Western practices, should be prepared for a few things. First and foremost, Chinese doctors generally frown upon pain relief during labor, and most hospitals do not give epidurals to laboring women. When I asked about pain relief I could find only one hospital that even offered it as an option, and that hospital refused to accept me as a patient to my “rare” blood type (I’m Rh-, which means I need a special shot after the birth, a shot that is not typically available in China and must be imported from Hong Kong). I’m generally a fan of pain relief, and never pictured myself to be the type of woman who would go through labor drug-free. For a long time I resisted the idea, thinking that there had to be some way out, some way to get that epidural, but as the time grew near, it became clear I’d have to do it drug free, and I really had to prepare myself mentally. It is one thing to go drug free in the States knowing that the option is there, but another thing entirely to have that option taken away entirely. In the end, I was grateful in a way that China has such a strict approach to pain relief. Had the option been there, I would certainly have taken it, but because there was no option, I managed to deal with pain that I never imagined myself capable of dealing with. I was very proud of myself for making it through that.

Another major difference between birth in the West and birth in China is that any woman giving birth in a Chinese hospital will most likely be doing it with about 5 of her new best friends. Most hospitals seem to have communal birthing rooms, where women labor together and you can hear and see everything going on around you. Because of the communal nature of the birthing rooms, significant others are usually not allowed to accompany their partners during the birth. I desperately wanted my husband to be there, but this is something else that was not to be. It was comforting, in a way, to see other women going through the same thing, but annoyingly the nurses had a tendency to compare me to the Chinese women laboring, remarking as to how loud I was in comparison. Going through labor without pain relief and without my husband, of course I was quite loud! I’d also done no formal classes on breathing or pain management, which was probably part of the problem, but I could certainly have done without the comments from the peanut gallery. I should also mention that the labor itself was quite conventional in that I was mostly confined to a bed, there were no birthing tubs or birthing balls, I wasn’t encouraged to walk around, and they kept me hooked up to a fetal monitor, which was a bit stressful. In hindsight, I could probably have been more proactive and asked to get up, or refused the monitoring, but I didn’t really have the clarity at that time do make those sorts of decisions.

 

 

After my son was finally born I had to wait, along with 3-4 other women, on a stretcher in the hallway for a room to become available. Another problem with Chinese hospitals is that the birthing areas are often overcrowded, which is why, I discovered, many women schedule inductions – inductions at least ensure that you’ll have a bed and won’t be turned away at the door with a “sorry, no room at the inn!” I gave birth to my son around 7am, and was finally admitted to a hospital room around 11am, so I waited quite a long time. My main disappointment with my experience giving birth in China is that during this time my son was in the nursery, and he was only brought out for us to hold him several hours after I’d given birth. I probably should have demanded to hold him earlier, as, after he was born they took him to be weighed and his cries stay with me to this day, I wanted so badly to hold him in those first few moments! However, once we were in place in a room the baby stayed with us the whole time, only leaving our sight once to be bathed. The hospital very considerately upgraded me to a private room at no extra cost, and my room contained a single bed, a non-working TV, a private bathroom, and a sofa, as well as the baby’s bassinet. It was quite comfortable and we stayed there for 3 days before going home. Chinese hospitals do not provide food for patients, so if you are giving birth in a hospital here you should make sure that your significant other is prepared to provide food for you. Most Chinese women survive on a brown sugar and egg soup which is considered essential for recovery after birth. My husband made the grave mistake of not bringing any eggs to the hospital and another couple took pity on him and provided us with a few eggs so he could make me this soup in the hours following my birth.

All in all, giving birth in China was not unpleasant, but there are certainly parts of the experience that will be new and unexpected for an expat mother. Still, I never once felt that my baby and I received substandard care in Kunming, and I’d happily give birth there again. I don’t think there is any need for an expectant mother in China to rush to Chiang Mai, Hong Kong, or Beijing in order to give birth, unless you are completely unwilling to compromise on the issue of pain relief, or of privacy. When people ask me where my son was born, expecting me to say, America, or, at the very least, Beijing, I say quite proudly “he was born in Kunming,” and secretly enjoy the raised eyebrows that usually follow.

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Related Links

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