I Know A Good Mom Who Spanks

I admit, I titled this blog that just to make you think.



Do you remember back when there were no perfect parents? Way back, you know, before Facebook and all the ensuing arguments about attachment parenting, circumcision, spanking, breastfeeding and the like with a bunch of people who we have never met or actually seen parent their children? (I guess there were perfect parents, they were just called in-laws back then. And we knew they were not perfect because we were married to their kids.)



I remember those days with fondness. Sometimes, on special occasions I still actually get the opportunity to see real women parent their real kids. Amazingly enough none of them seem to perfectly fit any parenting mold or style. They are just real mothers mothering their real and unique kids. In public- and well but imperfectly.



And in fact, I will admit that some of them circumcise, some of them bottle feed, some of them even (gasp!) give a little spank on occasion. And yet, they are all good mothers. (I am not talking about constant, threatening, bully moms who spank as their only way of parenting, but instead the occasional swat.) They also have good kids. Some of them have even raised good kids to adulthood- and they are fantastic adults!



Maybe you are thinking, "Well, just because their kids turned out well doesn't mean that they did anything right." There may be some truth to that, but I don't think it just applies to mothers who give the occasional swat, it applies to all of us, even those of us who hate circumcision and co-sleep. Anybody who has kids is blessed if they turn out well, whether they are attachment parenting or not. Children, like adults have free will, and how they turn out, no matter how we parent, is partly up to them.



Let's look at the other side of this. Even those who think they are doing everything right in the parenting department are still screwing up their kids! Yeah. I really think that. Because I genuinely believe we all make mistakes with our kids. The vast majority of which are ACCIDENTAL. We all screw our kids up. (Just an aside, I am talking about regular, everyday hardworking moms who try. Hot sauce mom and other freak shows who end up on talk shows don't apply.)



Maybe I only believe this because I am so very sure that I am making so many mistakes. I hope and pray on a regular basis that I will not screw up my children beyond belief and that they will be able to become awesome adults despite me. I hope that they use some of their free will to be great even though their mother was imperfect. I don't happen to be a fan of spanking, but I can still see that it doesn't necessarily a bad mother make nor does it make me a good mother just because I don't spank.



Maybe we spend too little time with each other these days as mothers in person. We forget that most other moms are trying too even if they do things we disagree with. We are also forgetting that we are doing things wrong too. What we have in common with those other mamas is that we too are blind to our imperfections as parents.



But back to spanking. Does the occasional swat actually make a mom a bad mom? Does it truly ruin her kids? Is it a mistake? I don't know the answers to all of those questions, except for the first one. I don't think that alone makes a woman a bad mother. I say that because in real life I know real women who do that and they have fantastic kids. And they are not just kids that are obedient out of fear. They are kids who love their mother and trust her and they are not afraid of her. AND she loves them and she doesn't abuse them. You can see it in their eyes how wonderful their relationship is.



Good moms sometimes spank. Bad moms sometimes co-sleep. Some good moms are bad moms on occasion. And the world keeps spinning round and round. The ironic part for me- The best moms probably spend less time arguing on Facebook, and more time actually being a mom.

Obstetric Lie # 89- You Are Cinderella & I Am Prince Charming

(Photo courtesy of peaceloveandleener.blogspot.com )

I read a book once written by an angry radio talk show host/therapist in which she railed against the common Disney movie "Prince Charming" saving the poor young girl from her horrid life. Her point was that women can't expect a man to fix their lives and save them from themselves. I thought she was a little overboard, worrying about something she shouldn't. What kind of skeptic hates Cinderella?

A few years later- and now, of course, my daughter's favorite movie is Cinderella. Or Snow White. Either way, same basic story line. Poor young woman with a life that seriously blows. Luckily, she is pretty! And low and behold, along comes Prince Charming, maybe with a little help from some short men or a fairy godmother, and BAM- life is awesome again! She really is a princess and everything does work out! All she had to do was be helpless for long enough. Whew!

I have also started to notice though that four year old girls are not the only ones who love the idea of the Cinderella/Prince Charming fantasy. Let's be real- lots of grown up adult women (myself included) would just like life to be easy breezy. Where is Prince Charming anyway?

Luckily (or sadly) when we get pregnant, the fantasy of being saved from disaster seems to pop up from our childhood once again, and many full grown, intelligent, and professional women are looking for somebody to make this horrid situation all right for them.

We have become Cinderella, the damsel in distress, the sick/helpless pregnant woman and we want somebody to take care of us gosh dang it!

And entering from stage left....Prince Charming! Only when we are grown and pregnant he takes the form of the obstetric surgeon, the savior midwife, the comforting doula, the knowledgeable childbirth teacher, the husband coach or the iron-clad birth plan.

I have bad news for everybody though. You are not Cinderella and nobody is your Prince Charming.

I know- take a minute to process that.

Labor and birth are unique situations in life during which nobody can do your work for you. You are not moving a piano. You can't have somebody carry one end for you, and you can't even hire a moving company to do it for you. You and only you can labor and birth your baby.

Sure, other people can HELP- but they can't save you from your birth. You must experience it one way or another.

You could elect to have surgery and not experience labor, that in itself will have it's own consequences and prep and recovery. You could be numb with an epidural and miss some of the sensations of birth, but you might be surprised by some of the possible side effects of that choice too. You could hire a fantastic home birth midwife. And still, she can not feel your labor for you. She won't experience even a single contraction and she can not guarantee a perfect experience. A doula can be helpful, but she can not legally be your voice, make your choices, or make labor disappear. Comfort is all she can provide. Same for your husband. I have watched my very horrified husband catch his own child- he was scared, but he didn't feel a thing in his nether regions. And the birth plan- many a quiet, polite, good patient has been horrified to find that just because she wrote it down, did not mean that anybody actually read it or respected it.

Why am I writing about this? Too many of us, hospital and home birthers alike are trying to get somebody to save us from our labor and our birth. We think if we have a baby in the best hospital with a great doctor then everything will be all right. Everything MIGHT be fine. We might get the perfect epidural at the perfect time and have a nice healthy baby to boot.

Or you might run as far away from the hospital as you can get with that soft voiced midwife and plan the perfect candle filled water birth and a sisterly doula cooing in your ear. Maybe some pounding drum music in the back round....

The truth is no matter what you choose you and only you will give birth. Others can comfort, sedate, numb, massage, love and support you, but when it comes down to it, YOU must give birth.

My message- embrace it! There is nothing wrong with not being saved from your birth. The empowerment does not come when somebody else does it for you. It simply does not. There is joy and confidence, and yes, maybe a little (or a lot) of pain, when you do it yourself. But it is YOUR joy and YOUR power and YOUR pain. That is how it should be.

Maybe you are thinking, "Well, I want somebody to take care of me every now and again." Fine. Make your husband mop the floor for once. Get your nails done. Take a nap. Lay out in the sun. But don't co-opt out your birth experience in the hopes that somebody else can make it all right.

It is your birth and your body and your experience. We can not have somebody experience it for us. Nobody can save us from it. Nobody can guarantee perfection. Nobody can be your voice for you. Frankly, we are stupid to even want that. (By the way, if somebody feeds you promises about their ability to magically make your entire experience "alright," you might want to turn tail and run. We give up our power when you let them do this.)

Cinderella is for kids. We are no longer children. We are powerful women and mothers. Let's own our births.


(You can read the other Obstetric Lie posts here. )

Finding Peace From Hurt

I know that many women and families have been harmed by negligence, cruelty, or just bad luck during their birthing time. I found this story to be very powerful about the peace that can come from forgiveness, even for a wrong that can not be fixed. Hope it touches you too-

Enjoy-

"My life was changed by a saintly patriarch. He married his sweetheart. They were deeply in love, and soon she was expecting their first child.

The night the baby was born, there were complications. The only doctor was somewhere in the countryside tending to the sick. After many hours of labor, the condition of the mother-to-be became desperate. Finally, the doctor was located. In the emergency, he acted quickly and soon the baby was born, and the crisis, it appeared, was over. But some days later, the young mother died from the very infection that the doctor had been treating at another home that night.

The young man’s world was shattered. As the weeks wore on, his grief festered. He thought of little else, and in his bitterness he became threatening. Today, no doubt, he would have been pressed to file a malpractice suit, as though money would solve anything.

One night a knock came at his door. A little girl said simply, “Daddy wants you to come over. He wants to talk to you.”

“Daddy” was the stake president [a church leader]. The counsel from that wise leader was simply “John, leave it alone. Nothing you do about it will bring her back. Anything you do will make it worse. John, leave it alone.”

This had been my friend’s trial. How could he leave it alone? A terrible wrong had been committed. He struggled to get hold of himself and finally determined that he should be obedient and follow the counsel of that wise stake president. He would leave it alone.

He said, “I was an old man before I understood and could finally see a poor country doctor—overworked, underpaid, run ragged from patient to patient, with little medicine, no hospital, few instruments, struggling to save lives, and succeeding for the most part. He had come in a moment of crisis, when two lives hung in the balance, and had acted without delay. I finally understood!” He said, “I would have ruined my life and the lives of others.”

Many times he had thanked the Lord on his knees for a wise priesthood leader who counseled simply, “John, leave it alone.”"

Boyd K. Packer

(You can read the entire talk here.)

Why I Love Birth Without Fear

Everybody should have the experience of moving someplace totally new where they know nobody and have no contacts. It can be a difficult experience but gives you the opportunity to step outside your comfort zone and meet new people that can be friends for a lifetime.



When I moved to Texas so my husband could go to graduate school, I met just such a friend. Lets just say that as a California girl, born and raised, the fact that everybody I met the first few weeks in Texas believed that they had malfunctioning breasts or vagina's was quite shocking. I realize that these are real issues, but in Texas they are way more common than in other parts of the country. (It may be explained by the 95% or higher induction rates at all the hospitals in or near the town I lived in, but that is another story....)



So I was so excited to meet a mama who was very pregnant and planning a home birth, a home birth after cesarean in fact. Finally, a woman after my own heart! The birth of her second child did not however go quite as planned and after laboring for some time, she had another cesarean. When I saw her next she was struggling to nurse her new little one and my heart broke for her.



I of course, being wacky beyond belief, showed up at her door to help her get the hang of things. And, as we sat in her room working on proper latch techniques, thus began an interesting, at times tumultuous, but always blessed, friendship.



We lost touch for a while, but I saw her again, this time after the birth of her third child. She had finally achieved her much sought after VBAC! I was truthfully- amazed. It is hard enough to VBAC these days, but after two c-sections, well, that just takes some serious strength and optimism. Still, being a natural birth purist (I know, don't hate me) I cringed a little when she talked about how awesome that epidural was....(Don't worry, I have since had a posterior baby and I get it now.)



Not long after I followed her on her journey to her fourth child, this one a planned unassisted birth. And again, I was honestly a little freaked for her. Unassisted birth! It sounded a little crazy to me. But she prepared well, and more importantly, if you are a person of faith, she prayed and knew that this was the right choice. Not the right choice for every mom or every birth but the right choice for her, for this birth. I was so happy for her when she was able to birth that baby joyfully, safely and without fear.



She called me just after the birth of her fifth baby, another unassisted birth. She continues to inspire me and those around her with her passion and faith.



Never have I met a woman who has seen such a broad variety of not just birth but life experiences. And never, have I met one who despite her ability to rise above a difficult situation herself, was still able to love, respect, and understand women who choose differently than she did.



This is why I was so shocked to see her attacked over and over again on Internet forums. The attacks were so abusive and mean and personal and came at such a vulnerable time for a woman (during her own fifth pregnancy) that I didn't know how to respond. As her friend I should have stood up for her. I should have said, "Hey- I know her! She is a wonderful person! And of all the people in the world, she would never judge your choices. In fact, she would probably be more understanding that most anybody else you could ever meet."



But I said nothing, because I was afraid that I would come under fire too.



I am ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I lived with fear for no reason from people I didn't even know, and ashamed that I wasn't there for a dear friend who would have been there for me. So, better late than never, here goes.



January, better known as Mrs. Birth Without Fear is a wonderful person. She amazes me constantly. She is accepting of my faults without being afraid to call me on them. She is faithful, hopeful and believing when others think she should be fearful and doubting. She is loving when others attack and she is not judgmental when people who don't know her dislike her. She cares about women who she has never met. She feels the pain of people who she doesn't have the energy to feel for. Even though she would be amazing just for staying home and being a great mom to her kids, she reaches out to others, to bring them hope and she does it for no benefit of any kind, financial or otherwise. She reaches out to people simply to give them hope for the birth that they want, whatever that is.



I realize that birth is a polarizing and emotional issue- even a life and death issue. It can bring out the best and the worst in people. And I realize that you can hardly know somebody from single sentence Facebook snippets. I don't know what motivates people to hate, attack, and -dare I say- fear Mrs. Birth Without Fear.



One thing I do know is this. Those who hate her do not know her. If they knew her they would love her. I say that because I actually DO know her. We haven't always agreed or made the same choices, but we will always be friends. She has strong opinions, born from powerful experiences. But she would never take away another woman's right to choose what she wanted for her own birth.



Some say that she encourages people to make dangerous choices. I can tell you she would NEVER do that. She does however understand the importance of intuition and she does believe in the power of the birthing woman. She would support you in a scheduled c-section or an unassisted birth. She would never tell you what to do but she would understand why you made the choice you did, because she has probably been in a similar situation. She would even feel your pain for you, because she is that kind of friend and that kind of person.



I feel it a privilege to say that I know January, Mrs. Birth Without Fear. I am also grateful that she is willing to give so much of herself and come under so much attack to provide a place for women to feel supported and cared for when they are pregnant and birthing. The popularity that she has experienced is a testament to the fact that women are desperately searching for support and kindness in a fearful and ugly world. Kudos to her for being better than her critics and a thank you to her for being a true friend.

An Interview With January

(This is an interview I did a few years ago with January, who runs the Birth Without Fear blog and Facebook page. I am re-posting it because we will be doing a post on her again tomorrow-)



I am so excited to have an interview to share today! Plus, it is with a good friend of mine, fellow Facebook, birth, and chiropractic junkie! Plus I have learned so much from her and from our friendship. It is nice to have friends who don't think you are crazy when you get mad about something ACOG said! So here it is, an interview with January, a beautiful passionate woman, wife and mother. (And keep an eye on her, I have a feeling she will be famous very soon.)

Enjoy!

I love birth stories, so to introduce yourself, give us a brief synopsis of your births and how they effected you.

My birth stories would be a four part series! I think I've been through most any kind of birth there is. A planned c-section because of breech presentation, a homebirth transfer turned traumatic c-section, my hospital VBA2C that didn't go as nicely as I planned and finally my healing and awesome unassisted birth. You can read more about them on my blog.

I am grateful for my traumatic births. They made me grow and growth is sometimes painful. They also keep me humble. If I had my perfect birth first, I might be judgmental and think all women should birth that way every time and they did something wrong if they didn't. But I know that every woman CAN birth that way, but unfortunately doesn't always have the support she needs to do so.



What first got you interested in a natural lifestyle or natural birth?

My chiropractor initially. I just like doing things outside the box, I guess. I loved the idea of having my baby at home. Then, with each birth it became more of a mission because I did not want another traumatic birth. I wanted to birth the way I knew my body was designed to do so. I didn't want to be disrespected and told what I was or was not capable of. I wanted my baby with me, safe and warm, bonding and nursing. Not being poked and prodded! Now that I've had a natural home birth, I can't imagine any other way. It was so empowering and just awesome!



What subject would you say you are most passionate about (circumcision, birth, vaccines, etc) and why?

Oh my gosh, ALL OF THE ABOVE. If I had to sum up my passion into one thing, it would be education. I want people to educate themselves before making any serious decisions such as circumcision or vaccines. I also want mamas informed so they don't have traumatic births!



How do you incorporate your passions into your lifestyle through work or education? (ie doula work, childbirth education, blogging, or just talking to friends.)

I think through my experience with my unassisted birth, I reached a lot of people. I decided to blog through my unassisted pregnancy, not for others, but for me. I was feeling a little insecure about doing something so extreme and against the norm. People started asking if I had a midwife and I didn't know what to say. With my blog, I was able to express all my feelings, without being interrupted. I could get my thoughts and reasons out and in turn become convicted and gained confidence. I was actually shocked at the out pour of support I received. Ya, many people thought I was crazy and were concerned, but I was OK with that.

Through that experience and now being on Facebook, I get emails on a regular basis from women about birth, vaccines, natural remedies. Some weeks I can't keep up, but I want to help!



What are some of your favorite resources for new mothers? (books, web sites, etc)

I know I'll forget some, but off the top of my head I'd say Hypnobirthing and Birthing From Within for pregnant mamas, and reading any birth stories they can get their hands/eyes on! I'm not a huge parenting book person, but I'd recommend The No Cry Sleep Solution if someone really needs something to help. For breastfeeding, look up videos to show how to properly latch! This really helped me with my third child. There are many other resources out there like the forums on the Mothering.com website, etc.



What experiences have you had that made you think, changed you deeply, or made you more sensitive to the situations of others regarding. You know what I mean, those humbling, growth experiences.

Like I said before, my traumatic births. Also, I had a very hard time nursing my first two children. With my first I didn't know where to turn to for help and with my second child I was so depressed, I couldn't even handle trying to nurse him. Also, I realized that I really do have postpartum depression and know how hard it can be to bounce back to your normal after that first year! I am very passionate about things, but I also know my friends love their children and are doing they best the can, just like I am trying to do the best I can!



What do you see as the biggest challenge/problem in obstetrics today and how do you think it could/should change? How are you trying to bring about change.

I don't even know where to begin with this. I guess I could say the biggest problem with obstetrics is that they even exist.



Share with us you blog or web site so everybody can get to know you better!

http://birthwithoutfearblog.com/

A Healing, Fearless, Natural Birth

(Photo by peaceloveandleener.blogspot.com)

Rowena turned two months old Tuesday. I realized that if I didn’t write her birth story soon, it would be fuzzy, wonderful memory. My plan had been to record her birth as it was happening. After the birth, I would look at those notes, and create a story from them. It was to be an intellectual exercise, exploring memory and the way we tell our stories. Of course this did not happen. In the midst of birth, there was no story. There was only happening. Afterwards, I struggled to write this blessed out story. But the words just never captured that becoming. Two months out, I have accepted that this story, here for my dear readers, is not the happening. It can never be that. It has to be something else. It’s a story for those who might fear birth. It’s a story advocating a certain kind of birth. It’s a story about how birth can heal. It’s a story about the wonder of pushing a life into the world. But it is not the experience of that happening. That happening is something that I can only carry in my body. It belongs somewhere without words.

On Tuesday, April 13, I woke up feeling peaceful and content. I had to trust that my body knew when to give birth. My midwife had emailed me offering me a birth ball to use, and I debated whether I wanted to make the drive to pick it up or not. I had to teach that night and part of me wanted to just go hang out at the park. But I knew that the ball could help my body get ready for birth, and that it might position the baby better for birth. I ended up loading the kids into the van and heading out. D, my midwife, met me and we took a second to check the baby’s position. Nothing much had changed but I felt okay with this. She gave me the ball, and some Evening Primrose Oil as well as some black and blue colosh. On the way home, my contractions started up again. They weren’t over-whelming and I was able to drive fine. Once back at the house though, they increased, and I got on the ball which made them more intense.

H came home shortly afterwards, and I asked him to drive me to the university so I could teach. The class was horrible. I was so spacey and sometimes the contractions were intense enough that I couldn’t talk. I’m sure I made little sense. After the class, I waited around for H to pick me up (he had gotten the time wrong so it was a wait). I walked around a lot as the contractions were coming regularly and with a bit of discomfort. He finally showed up and we went out to eat. By the time, we left the restaurant; I felt that I might actually be in labor. I immediately got on the ball upon arriving home, and I took some blue and black colosh hoping to keep the labor going. I got nothing. The contractions stopped and I went to bed. I woke up once to go pee, and the pressure was really intense. I did some squatting at the end of my bed, and it did feel like she moved down a bit.

Wednesday morning, April 14, I woke up feeling really grumpy. I had not slept really well, and the aforementioned peaceful feeling was swallowed up in the exhaustion of three weeks of off and on again contractions. At this point, I was nearly 39 weeks which is the longest I had ever been pregnant. I went to the university and taught. This class sucked because NO ONE had done the readings. I’d ask questions to only get blank stares. I told them off soundly at the end of class while enduring yet another round of contractions. After class, I soothed my grumpy self by chatting it up with my favorite post adviser. Midway through this talk, the contractions once again regulated. He looked concern as I had to keep stopping and kept asking if I was feeling okay. Finally I left and went to the grocery store. The contractions were coming every five minutes and lasting about 2 minutes. I really wanted this to be it but I doubted my ability to read my body. I shopped, and by the end of the experience was actually hurting. I got home, feed the kids, and then asked my Facebook friends if they thought I should call H. I compromised and emailed him. He called five minutes after I emailed and said “Call D, and I’ll call you back.” D, upon hearing that I was contracting every five minutes said to have H come home, and then if I was still continuing to contract for 45 minutes to call her.

H came home and I was still contracting. I had feed the kids, got them dressed, and was packing last minute things when he arrived. I called my mom as well to tell her that this seemed to be the real deal. Meanwhile, H’s dad calls and tells us he’s at the airport. H gives him our address so that he can take a taxi to our place. And then we head out to the birth center. The drive over was hellish.

Once there we settled into a quiet rhythm. My mom had yet to arrive so we go the kids settled into the room. I spent some time on the ball, talking to D about what was happening. My mom arrived, and we hung and chatted after I introduced her to D and the backup midwife. Then things really slowed down. I was still having regular contractions but they were very peaceful and easy. They didn’t really hurt although sometimes they were intense enough that I had to stop talking. But mostly they were bearable. I did everything I could think of and everything D could think of to get things going. I sat in the pool, I walked around outside, I sat on the ball. I squatted. And we all talked. We talked about music, about breastfeeding, about birthing advocacy. I never once felt rushed to birth, even when I started to feel discourage myself, I never felt like D was trying to push me into action.

She checked me around seven with my permission and I was at 7 cent. I was happy with the progress but feeling a bit like this was going to take much longer than I had anticipated. The baby was bouncing up and down and just not getting really good contact with my cervix. My mom had taken the kids to eat and play at McDonald’s but I didn’t know how much more waiting around they would be able to take when they got back. I was starting to wonder if I should go home. I didn’t want to go home as I knew I wasn’t going to be able to labor with H’s dad there. But I was also starting to feel bad that the midwives were stuck with me. We had also forgotten Umberto’s medicine.

At nine, she checked me again, and I was at 8 cent. This was pretty discouraging. She offered to break my water. H and I talked about after she left us alone. We really wanted a totally natural labor but we were torn because we knew that once my water broke, labor would come quickly for me (this is how I normally process). It was apparent that the baby was big so we weren’t worried about size. We finally decided that H would go get Umberto’s meds, and that if nothing had happened by then, we’d break my water. While he was gone, I watched a movie and talked to my mom while riding the ball. I was still chatting away comfortably while having regular contractions. H came back and we decided to go ahead and break my water.

I got Umberto his meds, firmly made the girls go lay down, and then D. broke my water at 1 a.m. It took awhile. But afterwards things really picked up. I got into the shower with H, and the contractions become more forceful and I had to vocalize through them. They weren’t enough to make me out of control but they were intense. In the shower, I started to squat while H pushed on my hips. It felt so good to have him do this. I felt exhausted at this point so I decided I wanted to lie down. D had come in and laid out her stuff. She later told me that she could hear the change in my vocalizing. We laid down with Umberto on side of H, and me on the other said. I closed my eyes but the contractions now felt like waves washing over me. H had his arm around my belly, and all of a sudden, I felt the baby drop way down. H felt it as well. He said his whole arm dropped down. That’s when things began for real. While it was intense, it was not unbearable. The contractions continued to move in a wave like fashion, and I began to moan, low through them. I didn’t feel like was a pain moan but rather a primitive moan that was bringing the contractions on stronger to help me push out the baby. I squatted at the end of the bed with Umberto watching me his eyes wide. H assured him it was okay and that this meant the baby would be here soon. The student midwife got our camera and woke up my mom who came in and sat with Umberto on the bed.

I don’t remember too much during this stage. D was a felt but never intrusive presence. H was wonderful as always and he held me, soothing me with his hands. Everyone was so calm, and the peace was reassuring. We were listening to Philip Glass and Ravi Shankar’s Passages and the lights were dimmed. I kept squatting and visualizing that my baby was moving to meet us. I began to feel a lot of pushy pressure and wanted to push but D said I had a lip and wanted me to breathe through a couple of contractions. I remember going into the bathroom, and jokingly assuring her I wouldn’t give birth on the toilet. Then I tried to remain standing , tried to breathe those contractions. I was tossing my head like a horse and breathing hard. Finally I decided I had to lie down on my side.

As I was marching toward the bed, the midwives were hurrying to get a chux pad under me, and Umberto was flying off the bed as I was getting on. He stood by my mom from the side as I lay down with H holding my leg and my hand. D wanted me to wait but I just couldn’t help the pushing. She held the lip back while I began to push. I don’t think I pushed as hard as I had with the other children. I wasn’t being coached or rushed so it felt like I was in much more control. I pushed when I felt ready to do so. At one point, I looked up at H and said “I can’t do this!” and he said “But you are doing it!” And the look of love and confidence got me through the next few contractions. Finally I felt her head crowning, the ring of fire, and then at the tail end of a contraction (I could hear D saying “Well the head will be out with the next contraction” and then “No wait she’s going to do it on this one!”) I pushed the head out. I was able to reach down during this and feel her head which was so amazing. But it still hurt! I was used to having the pain pretty much evaporate once the baby’s head was out. “It still hurts!” I exclaimed, “Is the head really out?” H assured me it was and D said “We have to get the shoulders out on the next contraction.” So I pushed the shoulders out and it STILL HURT. I then had to push the belly out.

Finally she slid out, and I heard her cry as she was placed on my belly. The midwives wrapped her in a blanket, and Umberto jumped up beside to get a better look. We looked to see what gender we had. Another girl! H and I were looking at each other, and at that moment I knew without a doubt that he loved me and that I loved him. We had done this together. We asked Umberto if he was disappointed with another sister and he said “No she’s so cute!” I ask D if I needed to birth the placenta, and she said “Not yet.” I nursed Rowena (who was not all that interested in nursing but definitely interested in crying). Umberto got to feel the pulsing of the umbilical cord. Once it stopped pulsing, H cut the cord, and I birthed the placenta in one easy push. D showed Umberto and my mom how tough the caul had been and we think it was because I drank so much orange juice!

Rowena was weighed and measured (8lb. 9ozs and 19.5 inches long). We dressed her and I held her while eating a Waffle House meal (yuck). Then 3 hours later we went home with our newest beastie.

The birth was a truly joyous experience. From not feeling rushed to feeling calm, the midwives made this about what I needed to give birth. I felt so in control even at the end when the contractions were so intense. I was never scared, never cried out for a hospital or pain killers. Even at the most intense moments, I knew my body could do this. I knew she was big and I knew I could push out a big baby. As H said it never felt like an emergency like it all too often did during the births of other children. The birth healed me and it healed a lot in my relationship with H. During the one moment where I was faltering, it was H I turned to and it was H who gave me the strength to keep going. We birthed so much in that room. We birthed a new life, a new memory.

FTM, Birth Center Birth- With No Birth Classes!

Love this birth story and how mom ends it with a big "screw you" to those who doubted her! Hilarious. Also- I love that she trusted her body, and was able to recognize how her perception of birth changed as she learned more. A great story!

Enjoy-

(Side note: I started this story the day after Lanie was born and almost 6 months later am still adding and perfecting it because I want as many details as possible. As a result sometimes it may be in present tense and sometimes in past tense. Oh well)

On July 22, 2010 a daughter was born, and so was a Mother. That Mother is me. I suppose the story of our daughter’s birth really begins with my own birth 29 years ago. When I was a teenager and first understood the story of my coming into this world, it horrified me. I couldn’t help but wonder why a woman would ever get pregnant and put herself through such a bloody terrifying experience. The images in my brain when my mom told me of seeing her reflection in the sterile metal equipment as she was cut open and I was tugged from her tummy, never left me. I always pictured myself with kids someday but if the stories I heard were the only way kids were coming earthside, I didn’t think I could do it. Thankfully the common stories are not the only way children are born but I did not know that until after I was pregnant… and still scared of how that baby was getting out.

When I was about 30 weeks pregnant my back was bothering me, so I went to a chiropractor/doula recommended by a friend. She asked me if I had any birth trauma. Being that this pregnancy was my first, I said no. When I told her I was born via c-section she commented that it was funny I had said I had no birth trauma. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that my own birth could be my birth trauma. But of course it was… it shaped my feelings and my fear about pregnancy, labor and delivery forever. The story of my journey earthside made me not want to ever have children in some ways. I’m sure my mother had no idea how it affected me and neither did I for many years. Thank God for the people in my life that led me to books and stories of natural childbirth. As I read those kinds of stories I felt more peaceful about birth and felt that THAT was the way children were meant to be born. Of course it is, it’s the way women have been doing it forever.

I was still getting my prenatal care at the Pendleton hospital and planning on trying a natural birth—I say “trying” because I felt that I would be forced to get an epidural at some point while at a hospital, or given drugs to augment labor. At 33 weeks or so Nick and I went for a tour of L&D and I left with a sense of total doom and near tears. I told Nick there was no way I was having our baby there even if I had to “accidentally” leave the house too late and birth the baby at our own home. That seemed less scary to me than going to the hospital, I literally had images of being strapped down and forced to have drugs I didn’t want, working with mean nurses and not being allowed to eat or drink. Once when I asked my CNM what would happen if I wanted to eat during labor, she responded with “you won’t want to.” That is not an answer and my gut told me to get out of there! On top of that, even though I had been seeing her my whole pregnancy, she was going on vacation for the whole month of July so there was no chance she’d be there when I went into labor.

It all just felt wrong and was everything I had feared long before I was pregnant. I looked into a home birth but it was too expensive and not covered, so I found a birth center in San Diego. They didn’t even have the option of pain relief drugs so I knew I could not be forced into something I didn’t want. They only accept new mamas up to 36 weeks and I was two days away so I made up my mind just in time (although until that baby was born, I figured I still had time to figure out how to get “my” way).

My first appointment was awesome with the exception of the midwife pushing birth classes. I didn’t want to take any and I felt she didn’t have the confidence in me if I didn’t. The way the birth center works is there are 5 midwives and you end up meeting and being seen by each one of them but you get the on call one the day of labor. I was fine with that with the exception of the first MW who I felt wasn’t trusting in me, but they each spent a considerable amount of time with me. The best news was that my blood pressure immediately went down from my hospital appointments and they helped me with natural ways to keep it low. I knew I was in the right place. My fear about labor and delivery was gone to be replaced by pure confidence in my body, my baby and myself. Thankfully I also had supportive people immediately surrounding me that thought I was crazy at first but really listened to me and I think I thought them a thing or two!

As my “due date” got closer I did grow a little worried because the birth center is only allowed to birth babies from 37-42 weeks gestation. I did NOT want to get a hospital induction so I started trying everything I had heard and read about including eating a whole pineapple, walking with one foot on the curb and one foot off as I went around the block, castor oil (will not be doing that again), spicy foods that made my tears come out but not my baby, and the occasional glass of wine to relax. I truly believe that none of these things really made a difference, babies just come when they are ready, but I had to feel like I was doing something to take control out of Mr. OB’s hands (the back-up OB who I hadn’t actually met yet, despite my trying, but would be attending me if I went over 42 weeks). I did have one NST and an ultrasound to check fluid levels after 41 weeks, both of which were fine as I knew they would be.

On Wednesday July 21, 2010 (41 weeks, 4 days gestation) at 4 a.m. I was awoken by my first contraction. I didn’t wake Nick up since there was nothing he could do and they were completely irregular. I was in disbelief actually, after waking every day for the last 11 days and being asked if today was THE day. It’s like studying for a test that keeps getting put off but I was ready to take that test! So Nick went on to work and I had contractions all day, they felt very similar to heavy menstrual cramps and I was surprised by how low they felt. I had imagined my whole belly tightening. Around 9 a.m. they stopped for a couple of hours, my Mom was here with me (and had been since the 6^th anticipating baby’s arrival) so we went for a couple walks, I took a bath and did some nipple stimulation. In the bath the contractions started again, I was so thankful because I had a fear that this was “false” labor and I would pass that 42-week deadline (and damn “them” for making me feel this way!). Around 4 p.m. I decided to time them for a bit, at this point I could time them myself. Contractions were about 7-9 minutes apart lasting about a minute and making me nauseous. I told Nick no rush to come home but I didn’t think he’d be going to work the next day. I called the midwife, Ashley was on call, about 6 p.m. She had another patient in labor and by the time she called me back I had thrown up. She said to call back in two hours unless something changed. Nick got home and at 8 I called back and things were pretty much the same, contractions 7-9 minutes apart lasting about 90 seconds and I had thrown up again. The contractions were more intense but Nick putting counter pressure on my hips and me humming helped so much. I didn’t think this was too bad so far and I kept picturing my cervix opening like a flower and I kept thinking “down and out, baby, down and out” with every contraction. I couldn’t time them myself anymore and it felt nice to give in to help and just concentrate on my job.

Ashley said it was important to keep eating a little and drinking water but I didn’t feel like doing either. I had eaten well all day until about 6. Ashley said call back around 10 p.m. unless something changed. Sure enough about 9:30 or a little later, my water broke when I went to the bathroom, exactly like I’ve heard people describe it–a pop and a gush. I hollered “my water just broke.” Thankfully it was clear. Immediately the contractions started coming about 4-5 minutes apart and I threw up a few more times. To be honest, I think Nick rubbing my back added to the nausea and at one point I kind of yelled “don’t rub!” I just didn’t have the concentration or energy to be nice. I had a contraction on the phone with Ashley and she said go ahead and come to the birth center. Even though she wouldn’t usually say that until I’d had regular 4-5 minutes apart contractions for an hour, but we live about an hour away, and I think she could tell in my voice it was time to come. She said if I wasn’t at least 6 cm dilated she wouldn’t admit me but wouldn’t send us home either (I had been 2 cm at my appointment two days previous), and that she would give me an IV because of the puking and risk of dehydration. I was disappointed to hear that. The other mom was still in labor at the same time but Ashley said it would be highly unlikely that we would deliver at the same time. The other mom had been sent home.

Nick and Mom got the rest of the bag ready and a cooler for snacks, while I bent over the dining table during contractions and collected some pillows to labor with in the car. We left at 10:23 p.m.—Mom is kind of exact about these things. Apparently Nick drove pretty fast and we got there in about 30 minutes instead of the usual hour. I didn’t notice, I felt no break in contractions the whole drive and had to sit on all fours in the back seat with my face buried in the pillows and humming really loudly. I had tried to get in and ride the normal way but there was too much pressure. I kept waiting for my Mom to tell me to put my seatbelt on!

I was starting to think I couldn’t go on but I was feeling the gentle urge to push so I hoped I was nearing the end. From what I had read I assumed I was in transition but I didn’t want to be too hopeful. Mom asked how I was doing and I said something like “I f*cking hate this” and I remember saying “We should have left sooner,” although I don’t think we could have gotten out the door much faster once my water broke. Mom said “you better not have that baby in the car.” I actually was not worried even if that were to happen.

Later Nick said he was thinking about the opening of Talladega Nights where the woman has Ricky Bobby in the back seat! When we pulled up to the birth center I had no idea how I was going to get out of the car. I’m sure someone helped me and I had to back out really slowly. I went straight to a bedroom at the birth center, ripped off my pants (Nick’s sweats actually) and Ashley checked me, I was shaking uncontrollably but I expected it to happen at some point. That and the check at my appointment two days previous were my only checks. She asked if I wanted to guess how far along I was and I didn’t for fear I would guess a big number and then be disappointed. I was thinking I must be at least seven given the shaking and my feeling of not wanting to go on. I remember seeing 11:18 on the clock. THANK GOD Ashley said I was 10 cm and I think Mom heard me say something because she was yelling from the other side of the door “what’s going on?” The birth center is an old house that is not very sound proof. Once when I was there for an appointment I heard a woman in labor, which made me very glad to be laboring after business hours!

Unfortunately, the other Mom was back and in labor upstairs—and at 10 cm too—and they didn’t have enough nurses at the birth center yet… so much for “highly unlikely”. I got into the huge birthing tub with my tank top on, even though I read and heard you lose all modesty I was still feeling aware at that point. Ashley asked me to make eye contact with Nick so he could help me pant through the contractions and not push, what the hell? Maybe I had been too confident because I skipped right over that part of the books. Ashley was trying to wait for another nurse to arrive and making lots of phone calls to find one. I panted through the contractions as best I could for about 15 minutes—as I was told later, I had no concept of time. Sometimes my body just pushed and I couldn’t stop it, such a strange and awesome feeling! Then Jana and Delilah (the nurses) arrived and we could go on.

The bath made me feel so much better and in between contractions there was a period where I could rest. I even fell asleep a couple of times. Nick sat next to the tub and held my hand, helped me sit forward and lean back and kept me drinking water and emergenC. He was a great labor partner and very encouraging. I could feel the baby descending at every push and it was a relief actually, so much better than transition. I had a moment where I thought I didn’t want to keep pushing because of the pain then I realized I was stretching a little every time and only the last part of the push really hurt. I could hear the Mom upstairs screaming! I said “that sounds encouraging” and we had a laugh. Later I was told she was swearing and a bunch of stuff but I only heard her that one time.

I had to hold myself off the bottom of the tub, it hurt to put all my weight down as I leaned forward to push and I could not change positions from the regular sitting way. They kept checking me with the monitor almost without me noticing, and the nurses and Ashley were so encouraging. Someone asked me if I wanted to feel her head but I couldn’t do it from that position so on the next push I rearranged to feel. Nick also looked with a flashlight and I didn’t think he would! I had no idea how long I had been pushing nor did I care. I had a few big pushes and I was really trying not to push her out too fast so I wouldn’t tear but a part of me just wanted her out already and I could tell on that last push it was going to be the one. I thought just her head would deliver but her whole body came out in that one push and I remember saying ouch (like a long drawn out ooooowwwwwch). I felt her body slip out. Ashley had been supporting my perineum as I pushed. It was an amazing feeling of pain and relief when the baby came out. Mom said she could hear me almost sound surprised. Well it is kind of surprising to suddenly not be alone in the tub!

Our daughter was born at 12:38 a.m. on July 22, 2010. The cord was wrapped around her neck two times and it took a second for her to cry, just long enough for me to worry. I was a little stunned that I just had a baby and Ashley had to say “you have to hold her so I can get the cord off.” Haha, duh. Ashley said she was military presentation, which means her head and neck were more extended instead of chin to chest. It’s a more difficult presentation to deliver but I had nothing to compare it to. It made her head a bit of a cone shape with a ridge across the front but it went away by the time we went home.

They put her straight in my arms and despite my past fear of small babies, I felt natural holding her. Well as natural as could be expected since I was just pregnant ten seconds before that. I sat on the edge of the tub to deliver the placenta. It felt strange to be holding the baby and have her still connected to the cord that was coming out of me. Ashley said to push when I had the urge, and I figured she meant in the next few minutes or so, but I didn’t get one so she pulled the cord just a little and I pushed anyway, the placenta came right out with a gush of blood. I was a little surprised that she seemed rushed to deliver the placenta and I would have rather not had it pulled on but it worked out fine and next time I will remember to mention that. What a mess! I mean really a mess.

Then things went a little downhill. I lost too much blood—which could have been the reason for the rush to deliver the placenta or could have been because of the rush. They gave the baby to Nick and got me into the bed to give me a shot of pitocin in the leg, it’s to help the uterus contract and slow the bleeding.

I had not emptied my bladder since before we left the house (maybe when my water broke) and Ashley said that would effect how my uterus was contracting. They helped me back to the bathroom to pee and I passed out. I woke to the nasty smell of ammonia and wondering how I could fall asleep at such a time, on the toilet no less, and then I realized what happened. It was a strange sensation; I have never passed out before. I was able to answer the questions they asked like what time Lanie had been born and I remember seeing Nick standing at the doorway. When they asked what time my baby had been born, I considered saying something like “I had a baby?!” but it didn’t seem like good timing to joke.

I really tried to pee after that but had no urge, that was the only time Ashley was stern with me saying, “if you don’t pee I will have to cath you.” It’s not like I didn’t understand I just could not pee. She hooked me to an IV since I was so dehydrated and weak (there had not been time when I first arrived and I was secretly pleased) and Ashley was very confident that she was good at IVs. I think she put in an 18 gauge to get the fluid flowing quickly and I barely felt it. It was on the inside of my hand by my thumb in a place I have never had an IV before. I had to sit on the toilet (naked now and not caring) for about half an hour to get my bearings back.

Ashley fed me some peaches. I got cold so they put a robe on me and I remember wondering why the robes and towels were white with all the blood around?! My legs were going to sleep from sitting there so long so they asked my Mom to come rub my legs. Before she was able to come do that the plan changed and even though I was still light headed Nick and Jana helped me back to bed. There was another mess when I stood up again, I can still hear that splash and apologized to Jana for getting blood on her feet but she didn’t seem to care. I still had not peed so they put a catheter in. I was OK with the needles and what not at that point, I got the actual birth that was important to me and then the interventions became more necessary to keep me healthy, but the baby was perfect and unaffected. Of course I would have rather not had any of it and been able to spend more immediate time with my baby. They massaged my uterus to help it contract, and that was not fun but after childbirth I have a new appreciation for pain. My tummy feels bruised from that.

They brought Lanie to me (although she wasn’t actually named yet) and we nursed, she latched right on. I’m not really sure how much time had passed since her birth. Nick, the baby and I relaxed in the bed, dozing in and out. I was glad we had brought our own comforter and the bed was next to a little fireplace that was keeping me perfectly toasty. I loved the firelight and heat. Grandma got to hold the baby and rock her. We had hours of skin-to-skin contact. I asked if I could get the catheter and IV out and when Ashley took the cath out it spilled on her socks! I was able to hold Lanie while Ashley stitched me up at the end of the bed, and Nick slept next to us. I ended up with multiple tears and had lots of stitches–I didn’t ask the final count. The last four stitches were optional but she said it would help with the burning through the healing process so I opted for them even though the numbing had worn off. She said it would take three shots to numb me again or just go for the stitches. I was more scared of the numbing shots before the stitches than anything else that happened that day! Ashley took about an hour and a half to stitch me, asking advice from the nurses to make sure she was not turning me into Frankenstein! It was a new experience to have so many people looking at me and discussing how to put me back together and by the end my legs were falling asleep again.

I had to keep drinking and even had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to keep my energy up. I was still feeling light headed and that lasted until after we got home. Sometime around 5 a.m. they did Lanie’s exam, she was 6 lbs 7 oz (with her diaper on) and 19”, her newborn clothes were too big. She did get her vitamin K shot but we refused the eye gel and Hep B. About 6 a.m. they asked me to nurse again and about 7 Delilah said if I felt well enough we could go home in an hour.

Sure enough an hour later we packed up and headed out. They checked the safety of the car seat and gave me some papers to make sure we checked mine and Lanie’s temps and heart rate, etc. We went through McDonald’s on the way home (Nick, Mom and I) cause I was starving and were home about 10:00 a.m.. That’s less than twelve hours since we had left the house! That would have never happened at the hospital. We packed way too much stuff. I had music, heat packs, clothes, phone chargers, the computer and the video camera–we didn’t need any of it except the comforter, but you can’t predict how long labor will be so I’m still glad we were prepared. I do wish we had gotten a few pictures.

Since we’ve been home (less than 48 hours), she’s been sleeping a lot. She is calm and quiet and I can only hope that continues to some degree. She slept through her first night from 10 or so until 7 when I woke her up to nurse. She wasn’t even interested. We went to the pediatrician and she has lost 5 ounces but that’s totally normal. No one could believe that she was just born yesterday, because they thought we should still be in the hospital and couldn’t believe I was up and moving. But I am moving very slowly, today my arms and shoulders are sore from holding myself up in the tub. I am taking some Advil for the pain in the stitches. This afternoon Lanie started nursing like a champ and I think we will be on a 1-2 hour schedule and won’t be sleeping through this night. We take her back to the pediatrician in a few days for a weight check and I go to the birth center for a two-week follow up appointment. My belly feels so soft and strange, like bread dough. I’ve lost about ten pounds so far.

Overall it was a wonderful experience and I will be doing a water birth again if we are blessed with more children. I think the fact that she has been so calm has something to do with the gentle way she was brought into the world. She came just in time as I had an appointment with the hospital OB the afternoon of the 22^nd and they may have tried to induce me as her due date was July 10, although I would have fought it tooth and nail. As far as I was concerned I was in the care of the birth center until 42 weeks and that wasn’t until Saturday. That was at Sharp Mary Birch hospital, not Pendleton where I was originally being seen. I would also like to mention that had I kept my care at Pendleton from the beginning I would have been induced at 41 weeks no matter what and I am sure that would have ended in a c-section and left me devastated.

The nurses and Ashley said I did great and they couldn’t believe that was my first baby and that I had not taken any childbirth classes, they said I made their job easier and I was natural at labor! They seemed surprised that they didn’t have to coach me on how to push. Who would have guessed? Actually I knew that I would know what to do and I felt confident about that through the whole labor. I was getting increasingly annoyed with the midwives trying to get me to take childbirth classes, I just couldn’t understand being told to trust my body and that it’s a natural process… but I needed a class to cope with it. That didn’t feel right to me. It was really a fast labor when you consider it was about three hours from water breaking to delivery and could have been faster if I had been pushing when I first had the urge to, and about 20.5 hours from first contraction to delivery. The Mom upstairs delivered her baby at 12:01 a.m.–pretty close to the same time!

And I’d like to say a big “screw you” to all the people who doubted me and thought I was making a terrible/dangerous/naïve/uninformed decision (which I find totally ironic)! I wouldn’t change a single detail about our daughter’s birth; I knew the three of us could do it.