My name is April
and I want to tell you how thrilled I am about the birth of my daughter, Katie.
While telling this I’ve started thinking back on my other two births. I want to
share Elizabeth and Dale and their births with you too. I am afraid it has
turned into a long story.
Elizabeth was
born in October of ’89. Jeff and I did not plan the pregnancy or her birth.
After fourteen hours of painful labor (and many unheeded requests for drugs,
C-section, death, anything to stop it all!) I was told to start pushing. When
the nurse wheeled me into the delivery room I noticed the mirror placed for mom’s
to see the birth was shattered. I’ve often wondered how that happened. Well, I
was helped onto a metal table and my legs were strapped into stirrups. A
stranger entered and explained that my doctor had left town about twenty
minutes before! His brother could attend me.
PUSH! 1 2 3 4 5 6
7 8 9 10. Breathe. (You know the routine.) When baby’s head crowned I was given
an episiotomy. (A large, nasty one I found out later.) Elizabeth was born
weighing seven pounds, eight ounces. When she was placed on my tummy I fell in
love right away.
I’ve always been
so proud of Elizabeth. As she grew it never crossed my mind to have another
child. How could we love anyone as much as her? These were my thoughts when I
discovered I was pregnant in March of ’95. Elizabeth was five and a half years
old.
My labor started
when I was two days ‘overdue’. None of the books I read prepared me for my
unusual labor. For four nights I had painful contractions that stopped by
morning. I was extremely tired and frustrated. At a doctor’s visit on the third
day I was four and a half centimeters dilated. So all those contractions were
doing some good!
September 12,
(six days ‘overdue’) I started having regular contractions. By the time I got
to the hospital and hooked up to all the machines they had disappeared. The doctor
wanted to help labor along. After four sleepless nights I was not hard to
convince. I felt pressured to go with the flow and gave all the control to the
hospital staff. Again.
After being
installed in a LDR room I met the anesthesiologist and was given an epidural.
My doctor came in, started a pitocin drip and broke my baby’s membranes. Okay,
I was in labor (of sorts). An hour later our son, Dale, was born weighing eight
pounds, twelve ounces. I cannot forget how very blue he was. He needed help to
breathe. (I could write pages just about those few minutes of my life.) On the
other side of the room the nurses were massaging him and trying to give him
oxygen. I could not see much of this but picked up on the panic in the nurse’s
voice when she yelled out the door for Dr. Somebody-or-another to come and
help. Dale did start to breathe (whether they helped or hindered I could not
even guess). I was still worried though. He was not attentive and it was
several hours before I was able to breastfeed him successfully.
I love my son;
however, I have ambivalent feelings about the day that he was born. It took
longer to connect with Dale but it did happen. He has changed the way I view
myself as a mother. I feel much more capable now. I know there was always a
place in my heart for him. He brings me great joy.
Dale was not yet
a year old when we started wanting another baby. I did not expect to feel like
that so soon. I knew I could not change the things I regret happening but I
think that was my motive anyway. At first I started charting my cycles to avoid
pregnancy. When we noticed we were having more intercourse on my fertile days
than the whole rest of the month we knew our goals had changed. For the next
seven months we tried to get pregnant. I read everything I could find about
childbirth. I made the most complete birth plan imaginable. I wanted the
perfect birth with no regrets.
Then our finances
took a dive. That changed our minds about having a baby. Since we had not
conceived before we did not think we needed to use contraception. Four months
later I became pregnant.
Just like the
first two this pregnancy took me completely by surprise. There were some
differences though. I no longer believed the presence of a physician ensured a
safe delivery. I chose a midwife. By the end of my pregnancy I had discarded my
birth plan. Honestly it was only a safety net before. Every birth is different
and I disliked the idea of having the ‘script’ I had written for myself. I felt
secure that Chris, my midwife, would not interfere with nature unless
necessary. She agreed to only do internal checks when requested. Both of her
own children had been born at home. I had talked to Jeff about a home birth but
we had opted for the birth center. We live on an island and felt it would take
too long to get to a hospital if we needed one.
As my expected
due date approached I felt prepared and confident. At an exam two days before
my EDD I was dilated three and a half centimeters. That night I woke up with
contractions five minutes apart. They came regular but never got strong enough
to go to the birth center. (I wanted to wait until the last minute because I
was reluctant to be apart from my kids.) It was a good thing we didn’t rush off
because sometime during the early morning hours I fell asleep. When I woke the
sun was up and the contractions were gone.
March 20, was
life as usual. During the last week that means at least two warm baths a day!
Just after 11:00 that night my water broke during a trip to the bathroom. I
called the midwife to ask how often I should change the pad I was wearing.
Chris told me to forget about the pad and get my butt to the birth center ASAP.
I argued that I was not having contractions but would be in by 12:30. (Still
trying to avoid leaving the kids.) I thought I knew better. Haha! Immediately
after hanging up I felt the first contraction. Aarg! We decided to head
straight to the birth center. And then another contraction. And another. I
stayed on the floor where I had dropped with the first pain. I told Jeff that I
would not make it to the birth center. He did not welcome the idea and seemed
determined to follow our plan.
After helping me
onto our bed he went to get the kids up. Elizabeth came and held my hand
through the next contraction. Jeff still wanted me to get dressed and tried to
put a pair of socks on me. (I remember looking at him and wondering if he was
crazy. I was sweating!) He spent his time divided between trying to comfort me
and trying to pack the car. When he came back in again I told him the baby was
coming now. He wanted to see. Lying on my side, I tried to lift
my leg and couldn’t. He lifted my leg but could see no signs of a baby. It was
then that I noticed Dale was in the room watching us. He kept several feet away
but stayed to see what would happen. Elizabeth decided to hang out in the
doorway. With the next contraction the baby’s head was born. Posterior! Jeff
supported baby’s head and told Elizabeth to call 911. Even after the
contraction ended I continued to push (more gently now). That was what I felt
like doing. It was great! To not be distracted and to feel in control of my own
body was awesome. One shoulder, another shoulder and then our baby was out. It
was 11:36. It could not have been more than fifteen contractions. I spent the whole
time on my side and birthed through my legs.
The baby was red
and started breathing right away! It was a couple minutes before we remembered
to check the sex. A girl. We named her Kathryn Rose. Sitting on the foot of my
bed with Kathryn wrapped in my bath towel I began to nurse her. My body reacted
immediately with a strong contraction. Jeff held the baby while I squatted over
the bowl he had brought me. There was a lot more blood than I had expected. I
hadn’t seen any of this with my other babies. I felt very relieved after the
placenta was expelled.
We continued
nursing until the paramedics arrived around midnight. I think most of the
emergency personnel on the island were in my living room. One of our sheriffs
brought his son to see the new baby. Everyone was excited. A paramedic clamped
the cord and Jeff cut it. Kathryn and I were wrapped in fresh blankets while
her temperature and oxygen level was checked. There was nothing else to be done
so they left us. Chris was on her way over. While we waited Jeff held Kathryn
and I cleaned up the bedroom and took a shower. I was feeling so good and
energetic that Jeff told me to slow down more than a few times. I settled on
the couch with Kathryn. She nursed while I ate three turkey and tomato
sandwiches and two 12-ounce glasses of orange juice!
At my prenatal
checks I would always see Chris. At many visits I also met with Christine, a
student midwife. After the birth they both came to our home. All the routine
baby things were done. Kathryn weighed nine pounds, four ounces. She received
antibiotic eye cream and a shot of vitamin K. We were both examined and checked
out fine. Kathryn was a little chilled. We solved that by placing a wrapped hot
water bottle at her back while we lay down to nurse. Soon enough we were all
back in bed.
Before Chris left
she prescribed ibuprofen for the after pains. It did not kill the pain as well
as the codeine and vicodin I took after my other births. I did not miss the
narcotic side affect though. I never felt too tired to care for Kathryn or my
family. Kathryn was never doped or unresponsive. Overall it was a good
decision. Using the heating pad and deep breathing helped me a lot.
Over the next few
days we relived it all over and over. Elizabeth told us it was exciting but
gross. Christine had shown her the placenta and explained how it worked. At
school she told her third grade class and got a good response. She received
homemade cards to welcome her new sister. Dale had a lot of interesting
questions about where Katie had come from. There was none of the difficulty
adjusting I was so scared of. It has been so reassuring to wake up to find Dale
gently rubbing the tip of his nose across Katie’s cheek. It is so cute!
This birth has
been an answer to prayer. I have now been given Love, Joy and Happiness.
Elizabeth is eight and a half, Dale is two and a half and Katie is seven weeks
old. (Even the blood came out of my bedspread on the first washing! Talk about
perfect.)
After this
experience I will always choose homebirth. A friend asked if I will choose the
same midwife. I will recommend her for people who are looking for a birth
attendant. I’ve read about how to have a safe do-it-yourself homebirth and can
see no reason to have anybody but my family around me in the future. I
appreciate Chris coming and felt reassured after her examination. I can see
some good reasons for having a medical attendant. Still, I dream of having
another baby with no intrusions. I really enjoyed the closeness shared by my
family before anybody arrived.
Jeff surprised me
the other day when he suggested we birth by ourselves if God blesses us with
more babies. I know it is a good decision because he would never take something
like this lightly. He had not even been sure that the birth center was safe
enough until he found out it was across the street from a hospital. I think
that birth touches us all much deeper than we realize.
I have been doing
some reading lately and have come to the conclusion that even those ‘routine’
baby things weren’t necessary. At the time I had questions but just didn’t know
enough. It seems to me that we should be taught these things. I am teaching my
children about how very capable their bodies are. I want them to know God and
how wonderfully his creations are made. ~April Marie Fleischhacker (May 8,
1998)