Bringing Antun Into the World: My Birth and Postpartum Story

Written on July 18, 2025

The Day Everything Started

The very same day I shared my pregnancy story online, that same evening, on June 18th, my labor started. It was a Wednesday night when I began feeling a stronger pressure down there. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was just Braxton Hicks, but as the sensations kept repeating, it became clear—this was the real thing.

Tin and I quickly set ourselves up in the living room. We brought out a yoga mat, the pilates ball, lit some candles, and put Harry Potter movie on in the background. The contractions came and went, and the time between them gradually shortened. I was doing okay—they hurt, but it was still manageable. Around 2:30 AM, the contractions started coming every 3 to 4 minutes, so we decided it was time to go to the hospital.

At the KBC Sestre Milosrdnice hospital in Zagreb, they admitted me and did a CTG, which showed barely any contractions—everything was registering as very mild. The doctor examined me and said I was only about 2 cm dilated. Since the doctor I’d been seeing throughout my pregnancy was coming on shift soon, the current doctor suggested we wait for him to decide what to do next.

When he arrived, he checked my CTG results and decided to send me home. Honestly, as I was waiting for that decision, everything pretty much stopped. I didn’t feel any contraction during that time. The doctor told me that these were likely early, preparatory contractions and that this phase could last for days. I wasn’t so happy about that conclusion, but I was glad he advised me to go home, relax, and rest.

So we went home and went to sleep. It was around 7 AM by then, and thankfully it was a public holiday, so Tin didn’t have to work. Until about noon, I was waking up every half hour with a new contraction. They were bearable, but I definitely felt them. I’d say I managed to get about 3 hours of sleep during those 5 hours. Hunger eventually woke me up, along with contractions that were coming every 10 to 15 minutes. After that, I couldn’t fall back asleep between them.

Tin woke up too, and we spent the next few hours on the couch. During contractions, I would switch between lying down, sitting, and having Tin massage me.

In the afternoon, even though the contractions were still about 10 minutes apart, they started getting much stronger. We moved to the floor, then to the ball, and at one point I even sat in the shower. I probably spent more than half an hour sitting on a chair in the shower, pouring warm water over myself. To be honest, I can’t say it helped much with the pain. Every contraction still hurt, and each one felt more intense than the last.

Pain tolerance is such an individual thing—I had really hoped mine would be high, but by this point, exhaustion had taken over. It was hard.

Around 8 PM, we started timing the contractions again because they were getting seriously intense. The intervals were still at least 7 minutes apart, sometimes even 10. What made things harder was that after every single contraction, I had to go to the bathroom—both number one and number two. So I didn’t really get to rest in between. I’d spend about 3-4 minutes sitting on the toilet after each contraction. It cleared me out completely, which I guess is good, but honestly, it was starting to get on my nerves.

Time went by, the contractions kept getting stronger, but the intervals just wouldn’t shorten. The only thing that helped me mentally was the stopwatch. Each contraction lasted about a minute, with the peak of the pain hitting around the 30-second mark. I would tell myself, “Come on, just get to 30, after that it’s easier.” And it really was—once I passed that 30-second point, I knew relief was coming soon.

By 11 PM, the contractions still hadn’t dropped to 5-minute intervals. Some were at 5, but others were still at 7 or 8. By then, it had been about 28 hours since everything started, and I told Tin: “I can’t do this anymore. Let’s go to the hospital and whatever happens, happens.” We weren’t sure if this was still early labor, or if the real contractions were still ahead of me—and honestly, I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle.

We got dressed, checked if I had all my documents, and headed to the car. And that’s when everything changed.

Suddenly, the contractions started coming every 2 to 3 minutes. One hit me on the stairs, another by the car, and three more in the car on the way to the hospital (the drive was only 10 minutes). There was one in front of the hospital, one in the elevator, and one at the door of the maternity ward. We rang the bell, and I walked in right as a contraction hit, so I couldn’t even get the words out to explain why I was there. I managed to say that my water hadn’t broken, nothing was leaking, but that I was having strong and intense contractions. I also mentioned that we had been there the night before but were sent home.

A nurse asked if I could use the bathroom, and somehow, I managed—again, during a contraction, sitting on the toilet. The bathroom had a little window toward the examination room, and since I was breathing loudly through the pain, I overheard the doctor and nurse wondering if I was a first-time mom because I sounded like I was really struggling.

When I came out of the bathroom, a nurse came to get me, but another contraction hit. She immediately started encouraging me and helping me focus on my breathing. The doctor decided to examine me first, skipping the CTG for now. She checked me and, surprised, said I was 7 cm dilated. I was in shock too. My first sentence was: “So… I don’t even have time to think about whether I want an epidural, do I?”

The doctor said they’d draw blood anyway and check with the anesthesiologist. Honestly, maybe I could have made it through without the epidural because I’d already come so far, but by that point, I was so exhausted that I decided if there was a chance to make it easier, I’d take it.

Since I was obviously ready for the delivery room, the nurse went to tell Tin what to do—check me in at reception and bring my things. Meanwhile, I changed into a hospital gown, and the nurse took me to my delivery box. Since I didn’t have my phone and was already hooked up to the CTG, I couldn’t text Tin to ask where he was, but he soon joined me.

It was about 1:30 AM by then. The contractions were strong, and I had to lie still for the CTG readings. They hurt a lot, and I was breathing loudly through them. At one point, a nurse passed by, held my hand, and showed me how to breathe properly so I wouldn’t hyperventilate. That moment really helped—I felt safer and calmer.

Soon, the anesthesiologist came and told me she could give me the epidural if I wanted it. The whole process took about 20 minutes, and honestly, it didn’t hurt at all. They insert the needle during a contraction when you have to stay completely still. That might sound scary, but somehow, your body just knows how to stay calm in that moment. The nurse who was with the doctor held my shoulders firmly and kept me steady. I barely felt the needle.

A few minutes later, the nurse came with the actual epidural dose, so I still had to get through two more intense contractions, but then came about half an hour of peace. Looking back, that time meant the world to me. I could still feel the contractions—they were registering strongly on the CTG—but to me, it was just mild pelvic pressure, nothing like what I’d felt before.

Tin and I watched the monitor, chatted a bit, and rested during that half-hour. But then a new kind of contraction started—it made my whole body tighten, like a crunch. I wasn’t sure what to do—should I push like I was going to poop, or hold back? Luckily, a nurse passed by, and I called her over to ask.

After I described the feeling, she decided to check me again and made the same surprised face: I was fully dilated, 10 cm. She said the baby now needed to move down through the birth canal and that I should just let that happen naturally with each contraction. She also told me that part could take a couple of hours.

When the next contraction hit and cramped my whole body again, I couldn’t imagine doing this for a few more hours, but I told myself—one contraction at a time, and somehow, it would be okay. Luckily for me, it only lasted about 15 to 20 minutes.

During those few contractions, I was squeezing Tin’s hand tightly, curling up, and honestly—I cried a little. With the last of those contractions, I let out a loud groan, and a nurse happened to walk by. She checked me again and said we’d try pushing with the next one. I followed her instructions exactly, pushing sideways while holding one of my legs up on her hip. After that contraction, she said: “Petra, it’s time to deliver your baby.”

The doctor and another midwife joined in, got the bed ready—raised the backrest so I was half-sitting, positioned the footrests, and gave me handles to hold onto. They told me our baby would be born in the amniotic sac since my water still hadn’t broken. We asked if that was okay or if they needed to break it, and they said it was totally fine—that when the baby came out, the sac would just burst on its own. I actually didn’t know that could happen. Usually, the midwife breaks the water if it doesn’t go on its own.

The pushing part took max 15 minutes, and then Antun was born. That part is truly horrible and painful—it’s hard to push, and between contractions, the pain is intense because the baby is right there, stretching everything, just waiting for the next push. After four pushes, they thought it would be enough, but he got a bit stuck at the exit, so they decided to do an episiotomy (cutting the perineum). They really tried to avoid it, but I told them to do whatever they thought was best.

For the final push, the doctor pressed gently on my belly—not too hard; it didn’t feel worse than the pushing itself.

And then he was out—all at once! The pain and pressure disappeared in an instant. I was overwhelmed with tears and relief, and Antun cried the loudest cry imaginable. That feeling is indescribable—at that moment, nothing else existed but the three of us.

The nurses did a wonderful job—they let him stay on me and cry for a bit, told Tin to take some photos, and only then took Antun to weigh and measure him. That part lasted maybe a minute before they brought him right back to me.

Before weighing him, Tin cut the umbilical cord, and I delivered the placenta really quickly (it lasted just one minute), which didn’t hurt at all. My placenta had a small tear, so they checked it carefully and later made sure everything was okay.

They covered me and Antun with a sterile sheet while they stitched me up. Since I had local anesthesia, I didn’t feel a thing. We spent the next two hours bonding and getting to know each other because the delivery room wasn’t busy—just me and one other woman.

Antun was born at 3:05 AM on June 20th, weighing 3090 grams.

At 5 AM, a nurse came in and said Tin had to go home. They took Antun to the nursery to clean, check, and dress him, while they wheeled me to my room. Everything was calm, and the nurses were so kind. Since you’re not allowed to eat or drink for a while after the epidural, when I got to the room, the nurse told me to drink at least a liter of water and eat something because the body gets so exhausted. I did exactly that, and honestly, I drank a ton of water and tea throughout the day. I didn’t go to the bathroom until the afternoon—that’s how dehydrated I was.

I couldn’t sleep—I was too excited. One of the nurses came to check on me, saw I was awake, and asked if I wanted them to bring Antun. Of course, I said yes. We spent the whole day cuddling and nursing, and I just stared at him the entire time. He slept almost all day, waking only to eat.

When the first doctor’s round came, the doctor who had sent me home the day before walked in, smiled, and winked at me as he saw me in bed with my baby. My labor eventually didn’t last for days. 

By the evening, since I hadn’t slept in almost two days, I asked the nurses to take Antun to the nursery for a few hours so I could get some rest. Since he wasn’t even 24 hours old yet, they kept him until morning, and I slept a full six hours. That gave me the strength I needed for the next day.

Of course, it was challenging—with pain, bleeding, and exhaustion—but somehow the time flew by. Tin visited both days from 4 to 5 PM, which was lovely. Visits hadn’t been allowed for months, but since the hospital capacity had decreased, they reintroduced them. (Two maternity wards were sharing the same space because Merkur Hospital was damaged in the earthquake a few years ago and had just reopened recently.)

The hospital experience was really great—the food, the staff, everything. The best part was that we could ask any question without feeling silly. I asked for help with breastfeeding because Antun was a bit resistant at first, and they helped me a lot.

Since I was supposed to go home on Sunday, but you’re not allowed to leave until you’ve had a bowel movement, they gave me instructions for using a suppository. I did that, and everything was ready for discharge the next day.

The pediatrician checked Antun—he hadn’t lost much weight (he was down to 2930 grams), and he had a little hematoma on his head from pushing, but they said it would go away in a few weeks.

Tin came to pick us up after lunch, and we went home, excited and happy. That’s when the real adventure began. Like any newborn, Antun cries a lot, eats a lot, and sleeps quite a bit too. Sometimes he needs contact to fall asleep, and sometimes he can do it on his own. Every day is different, and every day we learn something new.

What I Actually Needed in the Hospital

When it came to the delivery room, honestly, I didn’t need much—just water and my husband, Tin. Thankfully, my labor went pretty quickly (I was there for 3 hours until Antun was born), so I didn’t even have time to get hungry, read a book, or do anything else to pass the time. It was just me, the contractions, and getting through it with support.

For the postpartum ward, though, there were definitely a few things I was glad I had (and a few I wish I’d brought). Here’s what helped me most or what I would change:

• Dark-colored towels. After birth, there’s a lot of bleeding, and I only brought white towels, so they ended up stained. Dark towels would make things feel a little less stressful.
  
• Mesh underwear and thick postpartum pads are essentials, but I also brought adult diapers—the pull-up kind, not the ones with side tabs. For me, they felt way more comfortable and secure, especially at night. No worrying about leaks or shifting pads while I was sleeping.
  
• Since we were changing the baby on the hospital bed, disposable changing pads were a lifesaver. Antun peed twice mid-diaper change, and thanks to those pads, the bed stayed clean both times.
  
• As for hospital food, there’s really no need to pack tons of snacks. The meals were filling and tasty, and in the afternoons we even got little extras like muffins or pudding. That said, it’s not a bad idea to bring a small snack or two just in case you get hungry between meals, but I definitely brought too much food.
  
• A long charging cable for the phone was super helpful because the outlets in the hospital were in a weird place, high up on the wall. I also brought a portable power bank. I mostly used it to keep my phone charged so I could still use it while resting, without having a cable dangling across my face. At night, I’d charge the power bank, then use it the next day to charge my phone.

Postpartum: The First Few Weeks After Birth

When we came home from the hospital and the adrenaline finally wore off, the pain from the birth and the episiotomy really kicked in. For the first few days, I could barely move. Going to the bathroom was almost impossible—if I sat down on the toilet, nothing would happen. So I figured out my own system: I’d either stand and lean over the toilet or just go in the shower.

For me, that intense pain lasted about 10 days. After that, things slowly started getting easier. The stitches fell out around day 14. One piece of advice I’d give to anyone going through this: sit on a kids’ swim ring (the inflatable kind). It makes sitting so much more bearable. Honestly, during those first 10 days, I couldn’t sit any other way—not even on the softest surface.

During pregnancy, I gained 13.5 kg—going from 56 kg to 69.5 kg. When we came home from the hospital, I stepped on the scale and weighed 64.5 kg. So Antun, the placenta, and the amniotic fluid together were about 5 kg. Over the next few days, I dropped down to 61 kg—that was mostly just water weight leaving my body. I really noticed it in my legs—they started looking normal again. Now, four weeks postpartum, I’m at 59 kg. That means I have about 3 kg left to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight, and honestly, I’m super happy with that.

Breastfeeding definitely plays a part in that. Antun eats a lot, so I eat a lot too—I don’t hold back at all, and still, the weight is just naturally dropping off.

That said, breastfeeding is intense. It demands so much from your body and mind. I drink tons of water every day, I have to watch our latch closely, and those first few days my nipples were incredibly sore. I’m constantly hungry, so I try to eat healthy—but yeah, sometimes I grab a snack that’s not exactly nutritious, just because I feel like it. In the beginning, Antun wanted to nurse constantly. Sometimes I felt like I was breastfeeding all day long, and honestly, that’s not far from the truth. There was one day I counted—by noon, I’d already nursed him 10 times.

As intense as it is, it’s also beautiful. Yes, sometimes I’m on my phone while he eats, but most of the time I just stare at him, admire him, or talk to him so he gets used to my voice. Those moments are priceless.

Hormones and emotions—oh wow, they really hit me. Much more than during pregnancy. In those first days, I cried happy tears almost every time Antun fell asleep and I just sat there looking at him. When he cries hard, sometimes I cry too. At first, I really did cry with him, but I’ve learned to remind myself: I need to stay calm so he doesn’t feel my stress and cry even more. I still get emotional or nervous sometimes, but I try to process those feelings as quickly as I can. I talk openly with Tin about everything because I think it’s important for both of us—to be ready to grow into good parents together, and to make sure our relationship doesn’t suffer because of a lack of communication.

We took our first walk when Antun was 10 days old, and for me, it was such a positive shock. I needed that fresh air and movement so badly! Of course, after the walk I had to go straight to bed because my whole body hurt, but it was still totally worth it. Since then, we’ve gone for walks almost every day (we skipped only two days so far).

At the 4-week mark, I did my first gentle postpartum workout—about 15 minutes of breathing exercises and movements that are safe in the early postpartum stage. I do everything super slow, super moderate, and fully in tune with how my body feels.

As exhausting as this whole period is, having a baby is honestly the most beautiful thing. We celebrate every little milestone Antun reaches. The first time he opened his eyes fully and stared at us, the first time he held his head up for a few seconds during tummy time, his first bath, the first visits from friends and family… all those tiny things feel huge to us right now.

An Unexpected Postpartum Scare: My Experience at 17 Days Postpartum

On day 17 after giving birth, something happened that really scared both me and Tin. To make matters worse, that morning there was a huge storm outside—rain was pouring down, and the whole atmosphere just felt extra heavy.

Around 10:30 AM, for the first time since delivery, I felt a sudden and intense urge to use the bathroom. It felt like my bladder was completely full. Up until that day, I had been going to the toilet regularly, even though it was painful, but I managed. This time, though, I was breastfeeding Antun when the strong urge came, so I called Tin to take him from me so he wouldn’t cry while I rushed to the bathroom.

When I sat down, I noticed I was bleeding quite heavily. That surprised me because my postpartum bleeding had already decreased significantly by then. I called Tin to check, and just as I looked down into the toilet bowl, I saw a large piece of tissue pass from me. It looked like part of the placenta—it was about 5 cm long, thick, and fleshy. After that, the bleeding continued to drip steadily.

I immediately called our visiting nurse and described what had happened. She told me to rest, stay calm, and that she would call back in 20 minutes to check on me, reassuring me that it probably wasn’t anything serious.

In the meantime, I went to the bathroom two more times, and each time I passed similar tissue pieces, although they were smaller. I also checked my temperature—it was 37.8°C. When the nurse called back and I told her about the fever, she recommended I go to the hospital for an emergency check-up, just to be safe. She said it was better to go now, even though it was exhausting, than to risk complications.

So that’s what we did. We packed up quickly and headed to the hospital. The trip there was stressful—because of the storm, traffic in downtown Zagreb was completely jammed. What usually takes 10 minutes by car took us 45 minutes that day. Antun cried in the car, so I took him out of his car seat and breastfed him on the way. I was in pain, upset, and worried because I didn’t know if what was happening was dangerous. Was this my placenta? Was it risky to be bleeding like that?

When we finally got to the hospital, I checked in and then had to wait an hour to be seen. There was an older woman ahead of me in the exam room, and her appointment took a long time. Once it was my turn, I explained everything and even showed the doctor a photo of the tissue (yes, Tin actually fished it out of the toilet with a toilet brush so we could document it—sometimes postpartum life is just that real).

The doctor examined me, even manually removed a bit more tissue, and concluded that it wasn’t placenta. Instead, it was pieces of the uterine lining that didn’t come out in the first few days after birth and were now slowly passing. He did an ultrasound and confirmed that there was still some tissue left inside but told me not to worry—it would gradually come out on its own.

To help my body expel the remaining pieces, they gave me a small dose of Pitocin (synthetic oxytocin) to stimulate stronger contractions and speed up the process. I thought it would hurt, but honestly, it didn’t. It was just a bit of cramping, similar to what I had been feeling anyway during those early postpartum days when the uterus is still contracting back down.

They also took some blood to check for infection, but everything came back normal. After the test results, we were cleared to go home.

I really have to give credit to Tin for being so patient and supportive through all of this—and to Antun, who actually slept through the entire hospital visit in his stroller. On the way home, the nurse called again to check on me and invited us to stop by the local clinic for a quick check-up on Antun. We did, and, luckily, Antun slept through that too.

This experience really shook me because I hadn’t heard anyone talk about it—not in any postpartum blog, nor did anyone at the hospital mention it during our stay. The nurses had told us that postpartum bleeding can be irregular, especially when breastfeeding. They warned us not to rely too much on those textbook descriptions that say the bleeding should gradually decrease and change color day by day. So when my bleeding would slow down one day and pick up the next, I wasn’t alarmed. But this—passing large pieces of tissue—this really scared me.

I had no idea that parts of the uterine lining sometimes still need to come out weeks after delivery. I was only expecting blood and maybe some mucus, not actual tissue chunks.

Thankfully, everything turned out to be normal and expected. Now, four weeks postpartum, my bleeding has mostly stopped, and sometimes, if I feel uterine cramping, I know that I’ll probably pass another small piece of tissue the next time I go to the bathroom. But by now, it feels routine, and I know the process is slowly coming to an end.

Why I’m Sharing This

I decided to write about this because no one warned me that this might happen—and it would have made things a lot less scary if I had known. Postpartum recovery is rarely linear. It’s messy, emotional, and full of surprises.