30/09/2026
"I can't do this anymore."
When you say those words in labor, you might mean:
I'm failing. I'm not strong enough. I can't take another contraction. I need this to stop.
But sometimes, when my laboring client looks at me and says, "I can't do this anymore," I hear something completely different.
I hear change.
Because I've been watching you. An hour ago, you were chatting with me between contractions. Now your eyes stay closed. You've stopped caring who's in the room. Your breathing has shifted. Your sounds have gotten lower.
Maybe your legs are starting to shake. Maybe you're suddenly hot, then cold. Maybe you're nauseous. Maybe there's a new pressure you didn't feel before. And maybe, right at the very peak of a contraction, I hear it. That tiny grunty quality. Your body beginning to bear down all on its own.
And then you look at me with that expression I've seen so many times. "I can't."
And sometimes I have to smile a little. Not because I don't believe you. Not because what you're feeling isn't incredibly hard. But because from where I'm sitting, I can see something you can't quite see yet.
You aren't failing. Your labor is changing. Your body is doing something enormous, and you are standing so close to it that you can't see the whole picture.
Now, "I can't do this anymore" isn't a cervical exam. It doesn't automatically mean you're in transition or that your baby will be here in ten minutes. Sometimes a woman says it because she's exhausted. Sometimes she needs hydration, food, rest, a new position, reassurance, or a change in the plan.
So I don't hear those words and make assumptions. I pay attention. I listen to you. I look at the whole picture.
And sometimes what you need from me in that moment isn't another suggestion. It isn't someone telling you to breathe differently. It isn't a room full of people saying, "You've got this!"
Sometimes you just need me to come close, look you in the eyes, and remind you:
You don't have to do the rest of labor right now. You don't have to do the next three hours. You don't even have to do the next ten contractions.
You only have to do this one. And then we'll do the next one together.
Because here's something I've learned from sitting beside women in labor. More often than not, "I can't do this anymore" is the very thing a woman says just before she gets to meet her baby. It's not the sound of the end of her strength. It's the sound of the finish line.
Sometimes "I can't do this anymore" comes right before she realizes she already is.
And those are some of my very favorite moments to witness. 🤍
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