Post Category → childbirth

mothers, daughters, and childbirth

“Perhaps our children will grow up familiar with birth and knowing it to be a positive, fulfilling process, but for most of us that discovery, and a corresponding effort of deconditioning, must occur when we become pregnant or are contemplating having a child.” (Rahima Baldwin, Special Delivery)

I read that line last week as I flipped through what I still think is one of my top picks for birthing books. I couldn’t help but think of my mother, who shaped my entire concept of pregnancy, birthing, and babies. She was the one who put forth the effort of being reconditioned, and as a result, I was the child who grew up familiar with birth, and thinking of it as hard, yes, but hardly negative.

One of my mom’s life messages, whether she’s ever set out to preach it or not, is, “What is God’s design?” She’s a true Creationist. What I mean is, the decisions she makes day in and day out reflect her firm belief that God made our bodies, and that His design is good. Pertaining to childbirth, this means that she actually believes God made a woman’s body to nurture and sustain a baby for nine months, and then to deliver that baby.

(As an aside, Ina May Gaskin writes that jokes comparing childbirth to forcing a golf ball through one’s nostril sort of upset her, especially when told to a nervous first-time mother. That’s simply not a fair comparison, because while our nostrils are not intended to fit around a golf ball, our bodies are intended to deliver full-grown, healthy babies. I thought that was a brilliant point!)

This, then, is the idea that I was raised with. Mom didn’t spout negativity about labor and delivery as the date approached, although she would occasionally admit to moments of panic! Rather, we saw her dutifully stretching, walking until the last day, eating well, and generally approaching delivery with determination and preparation.

My midwife commented to me last week on how well I’m moving about still, and how many women, by week 37, are incredibly awkward and stiff. Huh, I replied. Well, I guess I just grew up watching my mother, and she never slowed down a bit, and so perhaps that’s my idea of how to handle late pregnancy?

Yes, I’ll give credit to my mother for that, too.

In fact, more and more I realize how much effect Mom had on the subtleties of my attitude towards birth. I am so, so thankful. So thankful. There has been no deconditioning for me to do. I simply reaffirm the thoughts and ideas that are already well planted and watered by a courageous, faith-filled mother.

I write all this largely to communicate what a gift we give our children (and especially daughters!) when we tackle the issue of fear in childbirth. Yes, I can’t overstate what a gift I esteem this to be.

reading

I’m reading Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth. It’s a loaner from my midwife. It was supposed to be my New York reading material, but there may not be much left to read by the time I get there. (Even if I’ve finished it, I’ll bring it along so you can look at it, Bri.)

The first half of the book is just birth story after birth story. I was excited to start reading them, knowing they’d be full of confident women giving birth courageously. They are certainly full of all that, along with some imagery and terms I find interesting (i.e. “rush” instead of “contraction”, to emphasize the energy instead of a sense of tension). But they are also full of… well, labor. There’s a reason I’m prepping for all of this. It’s, uh, BIG. (I won’t say daunting, because I don’t want to be daunted. [Although I may be, now and then.])

And since I’ve only had one birth with one midwife, reading all of these stories is helping me to get a feel for how other midwives coach and assist, and what I could ask for from my new midwife.

And I’m getting very excited about giving this homebirth thing a go.

The second half of the birth is Ina May on birthing. I’m eager to get to that part, to learn more about this miraculous process, and to read her tips and insights. I’ll return with a full book report when I’m through.

homebirth.

So, the paperwork isn’t totally filled out yet, but it’s almost all set: I’m going to have a homebirth.

We found a midwife that we both really like, and after talking to my mom, who somehow conveyed how completely and utterly superior a homebirth is, Ryan was convinced to give it a whirl. (Well, I guess this sort of thing is probably more than just a “whirl.” Somehow that puts labor and delivery a bit too lightly.)

As soon as we moved here, I had somehow decided, based on absolutely nothing other than my own imagination, that I would not like having a baby in any of the hospitals that are a stone’s throw from us. And sure enough, after talking to enough people, I found out my hunch was well-founded. Would you believe that it’s hard to find a hospital that will let the baby stay with his mother? Call me naive, but, I can’t believe that hospitals would be allowed to do that, and, well, over my dead body.

I’m really excited. My mom had the three middle kids at home, and I was old enough to watch all three be born (except Julia; inside joke.) I can’t say that I retained a whole lot of details about giving birth, but what it definitely did was help me to understand birth outside the context of a hospital, and realize that’s perfectly normal. Ryan didn’t have quite the same box, but like I said, I think he’s persuaded. His only concern is the white carpet in our bedroom. Literally. He’s not worried about emergencies, or all the what ifs, he’s just worried about a blood stain on the carpet. I think he’s going to be talking about it while the baby’s crowning.

Of course, I say I’m really excited, but actually, I’m having to work really hard at remembering that there is a baby, and not just a constant concern about vomiting. When I was pregnant with Jameson, I purposely lived in every moment of the pregnancy, knowing that with successive babies, there would always be a toddler to keep my attention divided. And sure enough…!

And Mom and Bri always said that the first pregnancy is blissfully ignorant of what’s ahead. Oh, worried, maybe, or a bit overwhelmed by the unknown, “but trust me,” Bri would say, “as daunting as that seems, it’s nothing like knowing exactly what you’re in for — and knowing there’s no way out.”

Well, she must have been right, because I find my mind quickly finds a new line of thinking as soon as it gets anywhere near the idea of having this baby. The other night, I chided myself for how silly that is. One would think I am afraid of childbirth, from my knee-jerk sub-conscious reaction, and I have no reason to be. I made myself think back to those fast and furious 4.5 hours of my life, delivering Jameson. “Were you scared then? Then? How about then?” And no, I wasn’t scared. Of course, who has time to process “scared” when within one hour, you’ve gone from getting ready to go out for the evening to laying on the couch unable to talk between contractions?

No reason to be scared, but at the same time, I’m not going to cross a bridge unnecessarily. That’s several months down the road. There is plenty of time for me to think about this little stumpy-armed baby in my belly — to think about how they are growing and being knit together by a Creator who, once again, while I was just doing laundry and walking to the playground, had plans for a person He’d known since before the foundations of the world. Time for me to fall in love with the plans He has for me, for Ryan, for this baby. Time to marvel at my growing belly, (and groan at my chubby face), to walk lots and drink tons of water and eat better. And then, as I start to feel the little fists punching me from the inside out, it will be time to think about how God created me to be a mother, to birth these children — as absolutely sci-fi as that may seem. The midwife says a woman just has to have some sort of faith to empower her in labor. But I can’t help but think, my faith in a God who made me and this baby because He loves us trumps all of the other faiths. That is as empowering as it gets, I think.

Sorry for this long pregnancy ramble. Of course, there will be plenty more. Perhaps I’ll put a disclaimer at the beginning of such posts for the few men who kindly read this here blog.

Or not, because that would just be one more thing to forget remember.

The Replay

We certainly haven’t had an opportunity to talk to all of our friends, and so I wanted to take a moment and outline some of the details of Jameson’s birth.

As we neared Danica’s due date (September 16th), we were growing more and more impatient—not in a bad way, we were just ready to see and hold our child. Actually, it was when we arrived home from Maine, after attending to my mother who just recently underwent brain surgery, that we started to grow eager. (On top of all that, Allison—our fantastic midwife—thought Danica might deliver early as she looked “very ready.”)

Well on Friday, Danica had spent the day shopping with her mother and Louissa, and we had scheduled a dinner with Tom and Diane Story and were to meet them around 5:45pm. I was in my office closing up shop for the day, when at 5:37pm (thanks to Vonage’s phone logs!), Danica called me into the bathroom and asked for the phone because she was experiencing what would later turn out to be her water breaking.

A few phone calls were made to various people (including one to the restaurant where the Story’s were waiting for us!) and just a little after 6pm, Danica began having small contractions.

Now being first timers here, we had no idea what to expect. Our only model was Danica’s sister, Brietta, who has had some notoriously long labors—“long” as in 51 hours long! So we were just gonna buckle down for the evening, perhaps watch some movies, and try and rest as much as possible.

It did not go as planned.

Within an hour Danica was having some mighty contractions–mighty enough that she wouldn’t talk through them–and would you believe she even vomited all over me! Nevertheless, we didn’t know how to judge all of this because for whatever reason, we were stubbornly expecting a minimum of 7-10 hours of labor.

Soon thereafter, Danica’s mom arrived and took over as coach. (She’s a mother of nine, and I’m now absolutely her biggest fan–I mean it–she’s the absolute best person you want in the room with you. Understand me: she’s not just mother of nine, we’re talkin’ a hardcore, home-birthing, synonym for OBGYN.)

Apparently two more hours went by—it certainly felt like fifteen minutes—and we noticed all Danica’s contractions were very close together, so I was ordered to get the car ready; Danica had declared she was ready to go to the hospital, and Mom thoroughly concurred. (As I was getting our stuff ready, Danica said something about having the urge to push. I guess this is some sort of womanly signal, because my mother-in-law ordered that we were leaving immediately without anything. “This baby is imminent; we have to leave now.”

Now meant now.

Within a few minutes we were at the hospital.

At the hospital around we were greated by the midwife at about 9:15pm. She quickly checked Danica and said, “You’re absolutely fully dilated; you can push any time you wish.”

Well Danica pushed. And she pushed. And pushed. …about an hour of pushing actually, more than I’m told is normal, but thankfully she do so without any need for drugs or surgical interventions.

Then, just before 10:13pm, Jameson’s head came onto the scene. His cord was loosely around his neck, of which the midwife matter-of-factly looped it back over him. As soon as she did—and before his body was even out—he began to cry, loudly! (This was extremely reassuring to his Dad.)

And exactly at 10:13pm, he slithered out into this world, and into his father’s hands.

My beutiful boy.

I was so caught up in the miracle—that my child was alive and moving in my hands—that I didn’t even remember to look if it was a girl or a boy. I heard Allison say, “it’s a boy,” and I just began to declare: “It’s a boy; it’s a boy–we have a boy!”

We immediately gave the baby to Mom, and for the next little while were just totally caught up in the moment, thrilled that he was healthy and now fully with us.

It was truly amazing.