Perhaps there's nothing too remarkable about having a natural birth--I mean, people have been doing it forever. For me, it wasn't so much the
act of giving birth unassisted and unmedicated that was empowering, but taking control of the
decisions about birth.
A dear friend recently said that women do more research on their car seats than their births. Guilty as charged. For my first birth I had a vague idea of what I wanted my birthing experience to be like, but I did absolutely nothing to create that kind of birth. I simply did what was easiest. I got an OB recommendation, went to that practice, and did everything I was told to do. No questions. After my water broke I followed protocol and went to the hospital. They promptly hooked me up to all kinds of tubes and gave me drugs to start the contractions. I was worried. I didn't want those kinds of interventions, but I didn't know what else to do. In the end, everything turned out fine. We had a healthy little girl and no complications. But I felt like something was missing. I wanted to be able to say more of my birth experience than "at least I have my baby."
Baby #2: Again I followed the path of least resistance. I told myself that if there were a birth center in Las Vegas, then I would go for a natural birth. But there wasn't. I stuck with the same OB practice and ended up being induced at 40 weeks. Brandon fainted as the nurse tried over and over to break my water, and he was unneccesarily rushed to the ER. My Mom had to break him out of ER "jail" to make it back in time for the birth. So I spent most of my labor feeling like I was alone in a hostile environment. Again, baby came out fine and Brandon was there to see it. But a few days later I got a horrible headache as a side effect of the epidural. It persisted whenever my head was higher than my spine. So those fist magical bonding days with my new baby were spent crawling around with my head lowered to evade the pain.
Birth #3: I'm grateful for my past experiences. I'm grateful they weren't any worse, and grateful they were crazy enough to make me vow to never get an epidural again. We had moved to Jacksonville, Florida when we decided to have another baby. Twenty weeks into my pregnancy I found out a new birthing center had opened up. They provided everything I could ever want in prenatal care. It was small, personal, extremely uninvasive, and I got to have an amazing toast and egg breakfast instead of a nasty sugar drink when they checked my glucose levels :) I still had a lot of fears, but this time around I tackled them.
Ina Mae's Guide to Childbirth was a helpful read. The birth center provided birth classes that focused on relaxing and having a positive view of natural birth. I also tried to hear birth stories first hand from women who have done it
au naturale before. They all seemed so satisfied with their births. Amazingly, of all the women I know who've had an epidural and have also
chosen a non-medicated birth, none have preferred the epidural. All these things helped quell my fears and prepared me for a truly extraordinary birth experience.
Saturday, June 8th in the afternoon, I started having some signs that labor would be soon. In the early evening contractions were consistently five minutes apart for an hour, so the kids went to their grandparents' and Brandon and I headed to the birth center. Contractions slowed as we made the half hour drive, so when we arrived, our midwife, Shea, encouraged us to go out for a walk. We walked, drew a chalk picture, and just relaxed, but contractions remained 15-20 minutes apart. Shea checked me and I was fully effaced but only dilated to a 3. She said that might mean active labor would begin soon, but it could even be a few more days. The contractions were irregular but I knew this wasn't just practice. They were low and crampy, and my back ached constantly, nothing like the practice contractions I'd had all through my pregnancy. The thought of driving back to the birth center when they were three minutes apart sounded like torture, so I broached the subject of a home birth with Shea. She was supportive of whatever I chose, even if it was a last minute decision.
On the drive home Brandon and I decided we'd definitely go with a home birth. We both felt good about it. Contractions continued irregularly all through the night. Brandon joked that they were actually very regular- 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 12, 18 minutes apart. Repeat. I tried to lay down and rest, but when I felt a contraction begin, I was too tired to get up and the pain was so much more difficult to deal with if I was laying on my side, unprepared. So I spent most of the night leaning over a birth ball (ok, just my kids play blow up ball) and squatting during contractions. Brandon was the perfect birth partner. He kindly obeyed my every command, "Come here! Go away! Don't ever ask me if it hurts again!" Later, he got a much needed nap in, and I tried the bathtub and the ball some more. That night was pretty horrible.
Around 5 or 6 in the morning I got Brandon up and during contractions he "encouraged" me in a groggy monotone voice by repeating the phrases we'd learned in our birth class, "you can do it. you're amazing." etc. until I yelled at him to say it like he meant it or not say it at all. That was a turning point in my labor. I asked him for a Priesthood blessing. The only thing I remember him saying is that I would know what to do. Contractions were still inconsistent but I remember feeling like,
Okay, this is it. We're really going to have this baby. I spent the morning laboring in the shower or walking around the yard with Brandon. I just tried to breathe deeply and relax my whole body during each contraction. There were
lots of times that I thought,
if I were in the hospital right now, they'd give me pitocin and my contractions would get regular and I'd already have this baby! But I tried not to show it. Brandon was truly affirmative and helped me overcome doubts. It also helped to know that we'd already paid the midwife in full ;)
Around 10 am I was feeling like I really needed some support from some women who'd been there (20/20 hindsight--time to call the midwife, duh!) I called my sisters and my Mom. Rosie suggested that I try to rest as well as I could and to eat something. She thought that trying to save my energy would be my work to do, and that when it happened, it would be really fast. Brandon and I found some chinese relaxation music on youtube that was really helpful. I sank into the corner of the couch between contractions, which were definitely getting longer, and squatted down in front of Brandon when they came on. I called my Mom. Our conversation went something like, "Rachel? Are you there?" Me: "uhhhh." Mom: "How are you doing??" Me: "uhhhh." I hung up to deal with a contraction. I called her again and she strongly encouraged me to call the midwife--just to let her know what had been happening. I promised I would and hung up mid-sentence to deal with another contraction. I'd been trying to breath deeply and relax but this time I couldn't. It was uncontrollable.
Me: "Call the midwife!"
Brandon over the phone: "we're asking you to come over now."
Me: "You're too late! You're too late!"
Me to Brandon: "Get the chux pad!"
Brandon: "What's a chux pad?!"
Me: "The green thing in the bedroom!"
Miraculously we got it open and under me as I squatted next to the couch.
Me (as my body pushed uncontrollably): "What is that?!"
Brandon: "What do you think it is?!"
Me: "Go wash your hands!"
Me: "Never mind!"
And with one contraction, I was holding baby's head and Brandon was holding her body. He brought her around to me and I held her close and we just stared at each other in utter disbelief, amazement, joy, relief. It was the most beautiful moment I've ever experienced. I never would have planned it that way but my secret secret of all secrets, even to me secret, was that it would be like that, just like that. Just me and Brandon, alone together to finish the act of creation we began nine months earlier.
After a few minutes we double checked the gender. Yup, definitely a girl. Brandon laid a blanket and another chux pad on the couch and I nursed our baby girl while we waited another 20 minutes for the midwives.
Juniper Lucy Smith: 6.8 pounds, 20 inches long, born at about 11:14 am (who was looking at the clock at a time like that?)
The question I'm most frequently asked is, "Weren't you afraid?" No. I was afraid when I chose the hospital, afraid when I chose an epidural, afraid to do what I really wanted, afraid of the unknown. Was I afraid giving birth at home alone? Absolutely not. I was finally facing my fears.
