Labor of Love

So, it has been a crazy, miraculous, busy, sad time over the last few months which was the reason for my absence. I can't say things have calmed down any, but it was time to get back to the blog. My personal life has been filled with joy; the impeding arrival of a new baby and moving into a new house, as well as sadness, with the passing of my father in law last month. It certainly felt as though we were watching the circle of life in person as we drove from the funeral home to our ultrasound appointment to learn we are expecting a healthy baby girl in December. A bittersweet day, especially for my husband.
As you can imagine, we are overjoyed and some days even overwhelmed at the idea of another baby. Our son turned two in March and while he can be the sweetest, most loving little boy on the face of the planet, he can switch to a "terrible two year old" in .02 seconds! I wonder how it will be to be a mother of two young children and if I'm up for the job. Mostly, I pray for a healthy baby, healthy momma and amazing labor. Amazing labor you say? Yes. You read correctly...I plan to be fully conscious, fully feeling and fully present for the birth of my little girl in the safety and comfort of my own home.
I didn't go into labor with Anderson with any real expectation. I had a birth plan that requested minimal interventions, but I was determined to be flexible to the occasion. After more than a day of laboring, I was given one bully of a nurse who turned the birth of my child into a torture session rather than a beautiful event. I'm pretty sure it isn't normal to bargain with the hospital staff for them to give you a sip of water if you can only push your baby out. There was pitocin, epidurals (that got turned off before the pitocin got turned on), an oxygen mask, threatened c-sections, nurses telling me to stop screaming, hep-locks ripped out of my hand and an unmedicated episiotomy that caused months of physical and psycological damage. At first, I was just happy to have a healthy baby but after a few months went by I began to realize the lasting emotional effects of such a traumatic birth.
In the amazing way that I believe only God can work, I sold some items on craigslist to a woman who happened to be a doula. Being as it is her profession and passion to talk about birth, we ended up discussing my birth story. She told me about meetings held monthly throughout the valley of women interested in birth and in the birthing profession (doulas, childbirth educators, midwives, lactation consultants). She suggested it might be healing to go hear what people had to say. I didn't plan on going as I didn't know anyone, but when I mapquested the address, I realized the house the meeting was held in was literally the neighbor behind me! Certainly this was fate. I went to the meeting and low and behold, the topic of the evening was birth stories. I shared mine and was saddened to learn it wasn't the worst story in the room. What was inspiring though was a new mom that sat across from me. Her labor was just as long and also included vomiting. The difference was that she had two doulas with her at the hospital. She had these people reminding her what her wishes had been before she was exhausted and nearly two days into labor. In the end, she had a totally unmedicated birth and felt amazing afterward!
The more I talked to these women and researched, the more I felt as though my downfall had been in getting the epidural. As I read about labor patterns I realized that I had probably gotten the epidural during transition, the hardest part of labor. Once the meds trickled through my body, my body shut down. I didn't progress for 12 hours, until I gave in to pitocin. That made sense! I don't take drugs (prescription or otherwise) because I don't tolerate most of them well, especially pain killers, because I panic....so my body went into panic mode when I stopped feeling the contractions and therefore, I quit laboring! I will always wonder how quickly or slowly my labor would have progressed had I not intervened.
With each meeting I came home to my husband revived and energized and not quite so fearful of having another baby. We had seriously discussed our son being an only child. Labor had been traumatic not only for me and baby, but my husband and mother who had been there as well. My husband brought up homebirth first. I initially pushed the idea aside...but not out of the way. I had yet to decide, if I did have another baby, if I just wanted to make sure no one ever turned my epidural off or if I just didn't want one at all.
In total, it took about 6 months of meetings, books, documentaries (watch the Business of Being Born!) and online research and we decided that yes, we wanted another baby and we both believed it to be more free of interventions, complications and far more comfortable if we did it within the loving walls of our own home.
The national cesarean rate at nearly 40% seemed outrageous to us and thinking back on our situation that could have easily turned that way, it appeared to be a rate based more on convenience for doctors, hospital staff (and a lot of time, moms!) than out of necessity. (Disclaimer: There ARE valid, medical reasons for a small percentage of surgical births and I am grateful it is an option) From the moment I walked through the doors, everything was prepping me for surgery...no food, no water, hep-lock. Fortunately, even though women getting induced (I did go into labor naturally but they induced when labor stopped) are twice as likely to end up birthing by c-section, I was spared major surgery. I feel like by planning to have my baby at home, if I do end up in the hospital at least I know there is a valid reason and it is not out of impatience of labor progression. In the last 60 years our country has medicalized the natural process of birthing healthy babies to healthy moms, treating woman as though they are sick. I feel like the right decision for me and my family is to bring this birth home.

Next post.......Choosing a Midwife