Ever wondered what it’s like giving birth in a foreign country? I share my recent experiences from having my 4th child in Spain, comparing it to childbirth back home in the UK
“Get me some painkillers, NOW!” To anyone who’s had the ‘pleasure’ of giving birth, I’m sure this is a phrase that will sound familiar. Imagine my reaction then, when I was told I couldn’t have any. This was just one of many surprises to greet me as a British citizen abroad, during the recent birth of my latest baby boy, Tiago, inside a Spanish hospital.
Background
Along with my family, I have spent much of the last year living a life of full-time travel in a classic motorhome. When I discovered during the course of this year that I’d got another baby on the way, I experienced all the usual complex range of emotions of finding out you’re pregnant, and then some! Where were we going to have the baby? Where would we live?? It’s safe to say that finding out you’re pregnant while travelling abroad amplifies any such anxieties.
As it turned out, the sudden introduction of a strict Spanish lockdown for Covid-19 to some extent made any such decisions for us. We were lucky to have a family member’s house that we could continue to stay at where we were in Spain. We were already thinking that a long drive back across Europe with 3 kids and heavily pregnant in order to get home was perhaps unwise, so when I received confirmation that our exceptional circumstances would allow us to have the baby in Spain (for free!), it seemed the best thing to do. 2 months later and I had another beautiful baby boy in the state-run, modern hospital at Torrevieja, in the Alicante province of Spain. Now I just had the small matter of 4 children under the age of 6 to look after. What was I thinking??
I won’t bore you with too many details of the birth. Every birth is different after all. I will instead be making some general observations about how the approaches to and process of birth are handled in Spain, when compared to my previous experiences of having babies back in my home city of Nottingham, in the UK.
Before I start I should state that I will always be eternally grateful to both the Spanish Healthcare system as a whole, and more specifically the doctors and nurses who treated me, for safely delivering me my baby at what was a difficult time for hospitals. Any observations are not meant as criticisms of any of the medical staff who I came into contact with, who all treated me in a friendly and patient manner (despite my almost complete lack of being able to speak any Spanish). Also, I’ve obviously only had one baby in Spain, so these are just my personal experiences. They are not intended to be indicative of the entire Spanish healthcare system, of which I have only this limited experience.
So, how was it having a baby in Spain, when compared to the UK?
My overriding observation was of a general difference in attitude to the whole process of childbirth. In the UK, recent years have seen a shift in attitudes towards midwife-led birthing. Doctors are on hand, but usually only called upon if really needed. In Nottingham (where my previous 3 children were all born), the maternity suite at the hospital has its own separate building and space. It has even been re-branded, now being called ‘The Sanctuary’. You can probably guess the type of vibe. It is all birthing pools, elaborate birth plans, calming music, soft lighting, bubble lamps and ‘mumsy’ midwives trying to waft aromatherapy oils under your nose.
Not so in Spain. The whole process was treated as much more medical. It was all doctors and uniforms, following what appeared to be a set process with little flexibility. The rooms provided for giving birth were quite stark and surgical in their feel. There seemed to be very little attempt at creating any sort of relaxed or welcoming atmosphere. It was all very efficient, but I was glad it wasn’t my first baby, or else it may have all freaked me out a bit (especially at times given the language barrier and the fact I was supposed to be wearing a face mask most of the time because of Covid-19).
Pre-Birth
Having successfully outmaneuvered the world’s grumpiest receptionist at the local health centre in Spain, and after several lengthy forms filled in later, I’d made it into the Spanish Healthcare system. I was official. They would allow me to have the baby for free in a state-run hospital, because of the lockdown situation. They wouldn’t, however, allow me to have any scans for free. Apparently, they’re keen on late pregnancy scans in Spain. Coming from the UK, unless there’s a problem, we only get scans at 12 and 20 weeks anyway. I’d flown home to have these, so I was happy to do without any more. In the UK, you do however get regular midwife contact later on in the pregnancy, to listen to the heartbeat and check all is well. I didn’t get that either in Spain. Being my 4th baby, I was never too concerned though. I could feel the little terror practising his future kickboxing career inside me each night, so I guessed he was doing alright.
As my due date came and went, I thought I’d head into the hospital and see what the deal was with getting induced (as I’d had to have this done with my 3rd child so was anticipating a repeat performance). They checked me over, sent me away, but gave me a date to come back in. I was all set.
The Day of the Birth
After entering through the ‘Urgencias’ (equivalent to Accident & Emergency) entrance – despite not being an emergency, I was merely following instructions – I was processed, tagged and taken to the maternity department of the hospital. Whereas in the UK, where once assigned a birthing room you tend to just stay in that same room through to the end, in Spain I was moved around between rooms and departments a lot more. Before anything else happened, I had a cannula inserted in my hand, in case I needed it for any IV treatment later on. This wouldn’t happen in the UK unless it was needed. It is something I hate as I’m quite squeamish about it – makes me shudder now just thinking about it!
I then had the pessary inserted to start the induction. Only after all of this, was my husband allowed in from the waiting room to join me (wearing some comical PPE). We were moved to a private room upstairs to wait for the action to begin. I was put under constant observation, strapped up with heart rate monitors. I know that in the UK it is not uncommon for someone who’s had a pessary to be sent home to await any developments. What with all the machines I was attached to (not to mention the seemingly constant procession of internal examinations!), I can’t imagine that ever being allowed to happen in Spain. I guess maybe there is something to be said for being thorough but, for me, I prefer the more relaxed approach from back home.
The room in which we waited was definitely a cut above anything experienced in the UK. It was private, en-suite and, much to my husband’s delight, even had a pullout bed for him. Imagine his excitement – after 3 previous births I think he sees sitting on a chair all night as being comparable to childbirth!
As my contractions hastened and intensified, I alerted the nurse on duty and was transported downstairs in my bed back to the maternity suite. Initially I faced yet more beeping machines in a strange little room with a pull back partition wall, dubbed by us as ‘the broom cupboard’. This was perhaps the oddest bit of the whole experience. My husband had to stand up and move his chair out every time a doctor came in, as there was only just enough space for a bed and a choice of either a chair, or a doctor, in the room.
This move into what seemed to me to be quite an unfriendly space, inevitably (I think at least) released some stress hormones in me, slowing my labour again. So, back upstairs we went and back to the sanctuary of our private room.
Active Labour
After a full day in the hospital and following some midnight observations, including yet another ear temperature check (still no Covid-19), I had resigned myself to trying to get some sleep ready to go again the following day. At 3am all that changed though, as my labour again shifted up a notch.
Whereas in the UK, where you are very much encouraged to stand up and move around during active labour (I even gave birth to my second child standing up), there was little chance for this. It seems in Spain at least, gravity is not your friend after all. Also, while I’ve admittedly never been bothered with getting in a water birthing pool for any of my others in the UK, I’m not sure they’d even know what one was in Spain!
Pain Relief
For the birth of my first child, my attitude towards pain relief was pretty much, “I want it all… give it to me now!“. I had plenty of gas and air, which, it turns out makes me vomit. So much so, I think I probably forced a premature re-supply of cardboard hospital sick bowls. That was followed by diamorphine. This just made me feel far too ‘off my face’ to be sensibly giving birth. As a last resort I opted for an epidural. This didn’t go in quite right. Fortunately it didn’t damage me but, neither did it give me any pain relief. Quite why some women are still made to feel guilty for making use of an epidural is beyond me. For me though, It seemed I wasn’t too compatible with any of these pain relief methods. For babies 2 and 3, I relied solely on Paracetamol and Codeine to see me through. The upside of this is a far quicker recovery period. It is debatable how much these do alone (if anything), but when you’re in pain, even a well-timed placebo can help.
In Spain, as things were starting to get increasingly uncomfortable, I asked for some pain killers. Initially, the nurse smiled and said “yes”. When she never reappeared I guessed she perhaps hadn’t understood my request. So, I asked again. This time I was told, “no, we don’t offer that here”, or words to that effect. Brilliant. Apparently, they sometimes offer gas and air, but not currently due to Covid-19 (I wouldn’t have wanted that anyway). Otherwise, once 4cm dilated, they’ll offer an epidural if requested. Pretty much all or nothing then. Sitting at a painful 2cm, I didn’t have a lot of options. So, my husband was rapidly dispatched to the nearest pharmacy to get something. Fortunately, whereas hospitals apparently won’t give you a paracetamol in case it’s too risky, pharmacies in Spain will dish you out pretty much anything you ask them for.
During Birth
As mentioned earlier, the UK is all for embracing gravity by remaining upright and moving around, with the hope of aiding the baby’s natural downward movement through the birth canal. Pushing while lying down is never as effective. Although my 3rd child was born with me lying down in the end (due to him being rushed out with a dropping heart-rate and cord around his neck), I’d spent most of active labour standing up. In Spain, as my labour accelerated towards (and then almost immediately beyond) their predefined impossibly small epidural window, I returned once again to the maternity suite. This time I was spared the ‘broom cupboard’, and instead taken to a birthing room.
This room was dominated by an elaborate birthing chair. Despite boasting an international design award on its side, it can only be described as resembling something out of a torture chamber – all ratchets and stirrups. It seemed that lying down would be the order of the day over here.
If you’ve ever given birth, you’ll know that your dignity pretty much goes out of the window. In Spain, I’d say even more so. Moving rooms, multiple doctors and a lack of privacy added to this feeling. A lot more internal examinations didn’t help either! It seems (from what I heard at least) that ladies in Spain resemble something close to a soprano singing opera when giving birth – all high pitch warbling. The doctors looked genuinely surprised (and at times even a little put out) at my revolving door of increasingly obscene swear words, that no midwife in the UK would blink an eye at. Clearly that isn’t the done thing here.
Once aboard the ‘torture chair’, one nice touch in Spain was the regular application of hot towels and Vaseline, to help smooth the exit and reduce any chance of tearing. Despite Tiago making his entrance into the world as a 9lb 1oz (4.1kg) monster child, I avoided needing any stitches. That said, he was born blue with the cord around his neck (already copying his older brother) and with a broken collarbone from the squeeze. After a nervy wait of what felt like hours (but was probably less than a minute) where he was whisked away to the room next door, we heard the first little cries and could breath a sigh of relief. By 4.45am on the morning after we’d first gone into hospital, our family had grown from a 5 to a 6.
The Afterbirth
Before having any children, I’d heard that the afterbirth can sometimes be a painful experience. Fortunately for me, my previous 3 births had passed with no real issues in this regard. On each occasion, I’d had an injection immediately following birth that causes the placenta to detach – knowing that a retained placenta can make for a nasty experience (I have actually experienced similar when I unfortunately had to have a medical termination once for a pregnancy that occured between my first and second children). I had therefore asked the Spanish midwife at the health centre (long in advance) about whether this injection was also offered in Spain. She confirmed that it would be possible.
I probably should have got that in writing! Following the birth, despite all my verbal and gestured requests for an injection, I was met with blank stares. Instead, I was hooked up to a super slow IV drip of Oxytocin, that was apparently intended to perform the same task (the cannula did get some use, after all). This Oxytocin drip was accompanied by a pretty rugged stomach massage by the doctor, intended to push the placenta out along with some of the excess blood. Despite this being exceptionally painful, I was repeatedly assured that it was absolutely necessary. So necessary that I’d never had anything remotely similar inflicted on me in the UK. Go figure. In any case, eventually the placenta came out, the doctor decided he’d massaged enough for one day, and I was free to make my way back upstairs to my private room, this time with a baby coming along with me.
Post-Birth Care
Usually, I’m always keen to get home as soon as I can following a birth. Having only minimal pain relief for my previous 2 children has really helped to speed along a swift exit. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I was back home with my second child after under 3 hours from giving birth. When, by mid-afternoon, I asked the paediatrician if I could go home, she looked at me like the trauma of birth had somehow sent me crazy, remarking, “your baby is only 6 hours old!”. Clearly not then. Apparently, it is standard for people to have to stay in hospital for a minimum of 36 hours. I consoled myself that at least I had my private room, knowing that if I was having to stay in for longer back in the UK, that I’d be in a shared ward surrounded by babies who’d somehow managed to organise a comprehensive rota of crying in turn throughout the night. I don’t know if this is always the case in Spain (and their healthcare is just fundamentally better funded and less over-stretched than ours), or just because the hospital I was in is relatively new, or maybe even because it was quieter than normal because of Covid-19. Whatever the reason, the private room was a massive tick in the positive column.
After 2 hours on my Oxytocin drip, I was finally free of the cannula. Tiago was given a vitamin K injection, just as in the UK. He also had antibiotic gel squirted in his eyes, as he was born in his own poo (just one more delight of childbirth). Being such a whopper of a baby, he also had his blood sugar regularly tested, using heel pricks of blood. Not having had a baby of quite this monstrous size before, I don’t know if this happens in the UK or not. The poor little thing had feet like a pin cushion though, by the end of our stay.
After my 36 hours was up and after repeatedly hassling anyone who’d listen, we were both eventually all tested to their satisfaction and allowed to go home. So, we packed up and left. I hovered around the closest reception desk to my room, expecting to have to be checked out officially, but was just waved away with a smile. No locks, no swipe cards, no checks. There’s no way you’d be able to just walk out of a British hospital like that with a newborn baby. I don’t know if that makes it a bad thing, or good and just a sign that Spain is generally an all round nicer country than the UK – so they don’t need to worry about such tight security around newborns. I can only speculate. In any case, it was nice to finally get home and be able to introduce my other 3 children to their new, baby brother.
Conclusion
Despite many differences between the two healthcare systems of Spain and the UK, and the way in which pregnancy and childbirth are handled (at least in my experience), I guess both methods proved effective in the end. I walked out of hospital with a healthy, happy baby. At the end of the day, that’s all that should matter. I will always be grateful to the Spanish medical professionals who helped me in the hospital, all of which treated me with an efficient, yet friendly, demeanour. I was particularly impressed by how all the staff went out of their way to try and communicate with me in English when I was, after all, a foreigner in their hospital. I had no right to expect such gracious treatment (especially for free!).
Despite the efficient service, spotlessly clean hospital and private rooms, I still think that the experience lacked some of the charm and soul of giving birth back in the UK. Maybe I only think that because I’m more used to that laid back, holistic approach. Who knows. If I had free choice in the future, I’d probably opt for the UK. There’s something to be said for familiarity, after all. Luckily, after 4 children, I have absolutely no intention whatsoever of having any more children, ever. So, for me at least, it’s a choice I’ll never have to make. Then again, I said the same after having number 3…
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Congratulations on the birth of your baby boy Tiago! So cute! Thank you very much for sharing this personal and moving story! – Patrick -pattyfindsdeals.com
Congratulations on the birth of your baby! He’s so cute. It must be nice to have had the chance to have a baby in two countries, that’s such a cool experience to have xo
Firstly congratulations on the birth of your little boy! Gorgeous! Secondly, how brave were you? It must have felt very daunting being in a completely different health care system, with people speaking a different language. Very good of them to speak English to you though. I am currently pregnant with baby number 3 and this was a very interesting read. Thank you for sharing 😊
Congratulations! It’s really interesting to read how different things are in other countries!
Firstly, huge congratulations on the safe arrival of your baby at such a strange time! It was so interesting to read about the differences between countries and I loved your photos!
Congratulations on the birth of your baby! I simply can’t imagine giving birth during this pandemic, you are brave, strong and so blessed to have a gorgeous little one after your hard work!
Wow, I never realized what an adventure giving birth can be and even more so when you have to do it in a foreign country and just have to “wing it” basically 😀 Congratulations on the arrival of your beautiful boy Tiago (Love the name!).
Congratulations! Must have felt very weird for you being in Spain and during a pandemic. My third was a 9 pounder, well done!
Congratulations Rach! It all sounded very clinical. Glad it went well though. x
Congratulations on the birth of Tiago! Such a cutie. It sounds so clinical and different and hard with the language barrier. I’ve had two babies standing up and don’t feel I could have done it laying down or without the gas and air! Go you!
Congratulations on the birth of your little one! This was a really interesting take on the usual birth story! Thank you for sharing and make the most of all those newborn snuggles! x
Firstly congratulations second it sounds like they are a little stuck behind the times in that respect! So glad you are both happy and healthy though I suppose that is all that matters. xx
Wow I can only imagine how difficult it must be to give birth abroad, but congratulations on the birth of your bubba and I wish you many happy memories together. Moving to all those different rooms must have been stressful but upside is you have a beautiful child to snuggle with!
Wow! This was amazing to read! I’m so glad I’m having any more kids 😀
Wow!! I had all three of my girls at home 🙂
Congratulations on little Tiago. It always amazes me how much healthcare differs between countries both in quality and cultural practice.
Congratulations!! I had to have a “massage” to help the afterbirth detach after my second and it was so painful!! Thats the last thing you want after pushing a human out of you!
I think rather than the country difference, the stress of giving birth during covid lockdown must have been terrifying…Hospitals are def not the place to be at the moment. I love that they were horrified at the pain induced outbursts. Spanish women must be very cool indeed!! (In Oz, no one would notice…) #KCACOLS (And congratulations. Glad mum and bub are safe and well)
Well done to you and well done to Spain for welcoming you!
Thanks so much for linking up with #kcacols x
I think i’d be terrified of giving birth abroad, especially in a pandemic. You are such a strong person for handling it so well. It sounds horrible having to move around the hospital so much, the UK birthing rooms may not be fancy but at least you get to stay in one place and like you say create a more homely environment for birth. Congratulations on Tiago joining the family!
Katrina x
#KCACOLS
Firstly, congratulations on the birth of your baby boy! This was an amazing read. Ive always wanted to know what the healthcare systems in other countries are like compared to ours.
Thanks. It was an interesting experience. I can’t fault them for professionalism – it was just a bit different to what I’m used to back home
Congratulations on the birth of your beautiful baby. I’m so glad to hear that your experience was a positive one. Thanks so much for linking up at #KCACOLS. Hope you come back again next time.
Congratulations!
It’s really interesting to see how other countries approach childbirth. I must admit I react the same way as you to the offered medication so I gave birth in paracetamol and codeine too #KCACOLS
Wow this was so interesting to read! Crazy how different it all is – it must have been scary for you! Like you say, the end outcome is the most important thing 🙂 #KCACOLS
Nice post on the differences! Congratulations on your healthy baby and your beautiful family!