I made a montage of photos taken by my very talented friend, Jen Penas. Don't worry, all of the scary bits are covered ;)

Labels: birth

I would like to preface this blog by saying that what you will read in the following journal entry are my reasons for having a homebirth. I fully recognize that there are times when modern medicine is needed to help mothers birth safely. I understand that sometimes inductions and cesareans are necessary and I will never judge another mother for making medical decisions that she feels are in her best interest.

When I shared my desire to have a homebirth with others the first question that was usually asked was "why?" This same question has been asked of me several more times since announcing my son, Jackson's, birth. Instead of answering each person individually, I thought I'd blog my response so that everyone's questions could be answered at once.

I'd like to share with you my story which is what led me to desire homebirth in the first place - Christian was my first attempted VBAC. I was given until 41 weeks to go into labor by myself, or I would be cut open again. At 40 weeks I asked my doctor if she would be willing to induce with a foley catheter. She had no idea what I was talking about, and when I explained it to her she literally laughed in my face. Apparently induction by foley bulb was "archaic" and nobody used it anymore **insert eye roll**

I went into spontaneous labor with Christian at 40 weeks 3 days. I was in early labor for about 24 hours with contractions ranging anywhere from 5 to 10 minutes apart, lasting about a minute in length. The contractions were somewhat intense, but not unbearable. In fact, I was handling them pretty well.

John and I ended up going to the hospital because I was sure "this was it". When I got into triage they checked me and I was only 2 cm, but because I was a VBAC they kept me. Instinctively I knew that my chances for a successful vaginal birth had just decreased drastically. Had I been a "normal" laboring mother, I would have been sent home. Now I was "on the clock". I knew that within a matter of hours I would be pumped with drugs....no good.

I was escorted out of triage and into a laboring suite. Almost instantly my contractions stopped. I now know that this was my body going into protective mode. I was not comfortable in the situation I was in, and stopping contractions was my body's way of protecting itself.

Once contractions started again, they were extremely painful. Unfortunately they weren't doing anything. After several hours in the hospital, I was still at 2cm. I was going on 24 hours plus, and was exhausted. There was talk of pitocin from the on-call doctor. I expressed my discomfort in augmenting; every rupture story I had ever read involved pitocin. I even believe I said that I didn't want it several times, but after severe pushing from the nurses and doctor, I conceded.

Shortly after the pitocin I got an epidural. Then came the artificial rupture of my membranes. I was also given antibiotics for GBS even though I was negative. The hospital lost my lab results and wanted to give them to me as a precaution.

I was starving, but they wouldn't let me eat. I had John sneak out and grab me a croissant. When it came time to push the nurse was yelling at me to hold my breath to the count of 10 and bear down. This type of pushing had me exhausted within several pushes. Luckily I only had to endure it for 30 minutes. When all was said and done I had a 2nd degree tear to my perineum with a bunch of minor tears to my labia.

Once Christian was born they laid him on my chest for a total of 60 seconds before he was taken away. They did the standard procedures: weight, apgars, eye goop, etc (I tried to decline the eye goop and vitamin K, but again my decisions were challenged and in the end I was left questioning myself...so I agreed to have them administered). He then sat there, by himself for what seemed like an eternity. I remember laying in bed, being stitched up and looking at him wondering why nobody was bringing him to me. He was just laying there with a nurse looking at him. It made me incredibly sad. To this day I still have no idea what they were waiting for.

I remember saying how hungry I was, I had not eaten since I received the pitocin which was around noon. Nobody was listening to me. I had given birth to Christian at midnight. I didn't get any food until they brought me up to my postpartum room around 3:00 a.m., after I ate I tried nursing Christian for the first time (yes....I wasn't able to try breastfeeding for three hours after delivery).

Was my birth experience horrible? Not at all. Could it have been better? Abso-friggin-lutely. I am not the type of mother to get stuck on "the experience" of birth (do those even exist?). Is it important for me to have a pleasant and calm birth? Yes, but if certain interventions became necessary to bring my child into the world safely, I would certainly forgo my birth plan. However, none of the interventions I received were necessary. I was simply taking too long.

I vowed then and there that any following children would be born at home.


Are you still with me? If you are, thank you for sticking it out. Back to the original question, why homebirth?

First and foremost, I fully believe in the Midwifery model of care versus the Medical model of care. What's the difference? The chart below will be able to explain it fully. click on the table for the full view.

My main "beef" (if you will) with the Medical model of care is the idea that I, as a pregnant woman, am a ticking time bomb. Do I understand that there are certain aspects of birth that can be dangerous? Of course, but I refuse to be treated as though I could explode at any moment. I do not believe that birth is inherently dangerous.

I feel that my level of care during this pregnancy and birth has far exceeded any care that I received during my previous pregnancies. My midwives treated me as their equal. There was no question that was taboo. I wasn't made to feel stupid or "less than" if I questioned the need for a certain test.

When I broke down and started crying at my prenatal appointment at 37 weeks because Jackson was still breech my midwife brought me to her chest and gave me what I needed most at that time...a hug. What would have happened, I wonder, had the same incident occurred in a doctors office?

Secondly, I find it interesting that for 9+ months mothers-to-be are vigilant in not eating certain foods or participating in certain activities. Can I drink coffee? Eat sushi? Deli meat? Will going to a concert hurt my unborn child? However, when it comes to bringing these children into the world we pump our bodies full of medicine: Artificial prostaglandins to ripen the cervix. Pitocin (artificial oxytocin) to stimulate contractions. Narcotics or an epidural to make dealing with pitocin induced contractions bearable. More drugs to combat nausea, shaking, decreased blood pressure to mom and baby (all of which are potential side effects of an epidural). Sure, I could decline all of these interventions at a hospital, but I do not want to fight with doctors or nurses during the most intense moment of my life.

Thirdly, there are certain things I wanted to occur during my labor and birth that would probably not be permitted in a hospital setting:

1) labor and birth in a tub

2) be allowed to push in a position that is comfortable to me (squatting, all fours, standing, etc)

3) spontaneous pushing (not directed)

4) be allowed to bond with my baby for several minutes before he is whisked away for all of the standard procedures (I was given an hour with Jackson before my midwife came in to weigh, do APGARS, etc)

5) no IV (I feel this is the first intervention which leads to the cacophony of interventions that have become standard procedure in a hospital)

6) To have my care provider be the one to deliver my baby (after all, I have built a relationship with him/her, he/she knows my desires, it would be nice to have that person deliver my baby....sadly, that doesn't happen).

I'm sure I could have negotiated my wishes with the on-call OB, but again, I don't feel like I should be forced to negotiate the terms of my labor and delivery.

I know some of you are thinking, "what about the risks?" Well, what risks are we talking about? Hemorrhaging? My midwives carry pitocin with them, the same drug that doctors use at a hospital. If the pitocin wasn't working, I fully believe that my midwives would be able to stabilize the situation long enough for me to get to a hospital which is about 10 minutes down the road.

Shoulder dystocia? Cord prolapse? I understand that the chances of these happening are very real, however, they are also very small. Should I stop driving because there is a chance that I could get into a car accident? Should I never hop on a plane again? Also, I feel my chances of these happening decrease just by being out of the hospital.

Several studies have shown that for low risk mothers homebirth is just as safe (and in some cases safer) then hospital birth. Researching these studies as well as taking my previous hospital birth into consideration, and discussing my desires for my impending labor and birth with John, we both came to the decision that birthing at home with trained midwives was the best option for us.

Labels: birth

I did it! I finally had my homebirth. For those that say that having a "perfect birth" is impossible, I say that nothing is impossible.

I had been having prelabor contractions since the Wednesday before " birth day". These contractions ranged anywhere from 5 - 12 minutes apart, lasting about 40 seconds. Most of them were manageable, but some of them were quite intense. I was sure that I would be having a baby any day.

The weekend came and went, and still no baby. I had resigned myself to the fact that maybe I would make it to my due date (Aug. 19th), and that was something I was totally okay with.

Wednesday morning rolled around (Aug. 11th). I started having some more prelabor contractions around 5:30 a.m. They were the same kind I had been feeling all week, so I didn't think anything of them. I went back to sleep and woke up at 6:30 a.m. when I noticed that they were getting closer together and were becoming more intense.

I called John at 7:30 a.m. to have him come home from work. Once he was home we started timing. Contractions were coming every 2-3 minutes and were lasting about 40 seconds. I hopped in the shower to see if they would stop, while John helped with making the kids breakfast.

I was vocalizing a lot while the kids were eating. Manny kept asking what I was doing, and John responded by saying that I was singing. However, Manny thought I sounded like a zombie and started walking around with his arms extended saying "oooooh". He was exactly what I needed b/c he was making me laugh which eased the tension of the situation.

At 9:00 a.m. we realized that this was probably the real deal. We called the midwives, my mom, my friends Jen and Kinsie. Everyone was on their way, and arrived around 10:00 a.m.

This is where time gets fuzzy....shortly after my mom took the kids, and everyone else arrived, John filled up the tub. Contractions were becoming increasingly painful, so I decided to hop in for some relief. Almost immediately my contractions spaced. Instead of every 2-3 minutes, they were coming along every 4-5 minutes.

I stayed in the tub for about 2 hours. Around 2:00 p.m. my midwife, Juli, came in and suggested that I get out of the tub. She believed that the hot water was relaxing me too much and slowing my labor hormones.

I was out of the tub for about an hour when Juli suggested that she check me just to see where we stood. I was heartbroken to find out that I was only at 5cm. I felt like I had been in labor for-ev-er, and the only progress I had made was 2cm (I was checked at 37 weeks and was 3 cm). I was so, so, so tired. I felt defeated, and started crying. Juli reassured me that the only reason I wasn't dilating as fast as I could be was b/c Jackson hadn't started to descend yet. She had me try several more positions for the next hour to get Jackson to drop into my pelvis.

At 3:00 p.m. I couldn't handle the contractions anymore, and begged to get back into the pool. John quickly emptied out the cold water, and refilled it with warm water. Once I got in, I instantly felt my body relax. The water was amazing. It didn't take away the pain of the contractions, but it definitely allowed me to relax in between.

I could tell I was nearing the end b/c the smallest things were starting to annoy me. What once were comforting touches made my skin crawl. I started shaking. I started getting really loud. Later I was told I sounded like an opera singer...haha.

I could tell John was getting antsy b/c he kept getting up to find something to do. Unfortunately, he made these trips during contractions which made me lose focus (which I promptly conveyed once the contraction was over).

Several things happened at once (or seemed like it anyway). I felt like I was starting to lose control. The pain was becoming so intense that I was having a difficult time focusing. I could tell that I wasn't using my contractions to the best of their ability. Juli pointed out that I was projecting outward, instead of inward. During the next several contractions I focused on my center and pictured Jackson's head moving down in my pelvis.

It felt like it took forever, but I eventually started to feel the urge to push. At this point I was so exhausted I didn't feel like I would make it. I remember telling everyone, "I can't do this anymore," to which everyone present said that I could, and reassured me that I was doing a great job. I pushed with all of my might and my bag of waters exploded. Thirty minutes later I pushed out Jackson's head along with the rest of his body. It was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.

I went from 5cm to complete in 2 hours. What was amazing was that I felt completely present during the entire process. For some reason I always thought that my mind would leave my body. While I felt close to the point of insanity during contractions, once they were over I was able to fully use the 1-2 minutes in between to recoup.

Jackson Boone was born August 11th at 5:15 p.m. He weighs 8lbs 10oz and is 21 inches long. There were definitely times during labor that I didn't think I would make it, which I vocalized on several occasions.

This is by far the most difficult, yet most rewarding experience of my life. There is no way that I could have made it without the awesome support people around me.

Labels: birth