I put this together for a local event which in-turn got it posted on a website, so I thought it fitting to put it in my own (neglected) blog:
Motherbirth
Mine is the story of a woman who has three children, three birth experiences and three different journeys into and through motherhood. My birth story is really the story of a woman becoming a mother; not just the first time a baby emerged from her body, but every time. My journey has taught me that me that the experiences we so often call childbirth are just as much an experience of motherbirth.
My first child was born exactly two weeks after my 22nd birthday. I had learned at a 36 week visit to the OB that he was breech. The doctor told me that he did deliver breech babies through “proven” pelvises…mine was not. We talked about the fact that there was still some time and that in two weeks we could discuss trying to turn him around. Ultimately, though, he confirmed that I would need a c-section if the baby was still breech and I was in labor. Until this moment, I had not even considered that fact that I might have a cesarean. After all, I was young, healthy and determined. Although I was sad, scared and angry at the idea of a c-section, I walked away from that appointment still determined that things would go the way I had envisioned.
My water broke three days later—not in the plan. I like to think of this as “Official Mom Moment #1” when I learned that cosmic truth that my children were not going to do things on my schedule. We headed to the hospital where my son, now a footling breech, was delivered from my body via cesarean section. My memories of the surgery are, I now believe, somewhat sugar-coated by the love and bonding that came later. I believe I am detached from the actual event and I remember it more like a spectator than a participant.
I was, of course, relieved that we were both physically well at the end of the procedure. I was disappointed that I hadn’t experienced the birth of my son in the way I had imagined. I was in pain, but unaware of the real trauma my body had been through. As I healed physically, I moved the actual birth experience farther and farther back into its own corner in my mind. Instead, I focused all of my energy (most certainly too much) on ensuring that every other parenting goal I had was accomplished. From breastfeeding to soothing, I insisted on being the primary (if not only) figure in this little person’s life.
Looking back, I can see that it was a direct response to my loss of control over our birth experience. This early time saw the birth of me as a mother in the very typical sense since he was my first child, but it also brought to life the mother in me who could fail (in my own eyes) and come back to do better. Since mothering is a journey, I continued on and had opportunities to create the change I sought and heal the wounds I had hidden.
My second child was born almost exactly 4 years after my first. When I discovered I was pregnant I just knew I was planning a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). After all, the OB who delivered my son said I wouldn’t need another c-section unless I had another situation that warranted it. I made my first appointment with a new doctor since we had moved to a new area, Ventura. We exchanged the usual pleasantries of an early prenatal visit and then she looked at me, with a very sad look in her eyes, and said “You know we’ll have to schedule you for a cesarean, right?” Perhaps it was my sense of joy and hope that tipped her off or maybe her own sense of what was right, but she knew I wasn’t expecting that information. I was stunned and said that I wasn’t aware of that and that I was planning a vaginal birth this time. Even sadder, her eyes looked right at mine and she said, “I’m sorry, we just don’t do that anymore. The hospital doesn’t allow it.” I didn’t argue. I left with my husband and soaked in my sinking sense of panic. We spent some time mulling it over. I researched a little more and became even more convinced that a VBAC was the right choice for me. My focus on creating the birth situation that was right for our family became overwhelming.
Eventually, we decided to move back to where we lived when I had my first child and I started to see my original OB. Just like before, he was almost flippant when I asked if I could plan a VBAC as his patient. “Of course,” he said, “We have no reason to believe you can’t have a vaginal birth.” I took that faith and ran with it. I believed more and more that I was the mother of this child and could make the right choices for us. In this case, it was the choice to allow us the space and time to meet each other as our bodies were intended.
At the end of my pregnancy, my OB pretty much insisted that I be induced or commit to a c-section. None of his colleagues were on board with being on-call for a VBAC, so he felt he had no choice. I was angry at him and felt misled. I had sworn I would not allow myself to be induced and increase the very minimal risk of uterine rupture. But—there I sat, faced with the choice of submitting to something I didn’t want or giving it all up. Neither choice felt right, but I eventually agreed to the induction. Allowing the induction is something I would do differently in retrospect. However, that part of me as a mother hadn’t been born yet so I don’t look back with regret.
The induction was powerful and my labor was fast and furious. Things changed so quickly that this labor is a blur in my mind. I had a sense of accomplishment that I had us gotten to the place where a vaginal birth was going to happen. Surprisingly, though, I still felt like I was losing control. The high dose of Pitocin flowing through my body was making labor almost more than I could handle. I wanted dark and silence but the nurses needed to come and go to do their jobs—which included lights and noise. The artificial intensity of my labor made it impossible for me to get out of my bed and I ended up pushing in a position that didn’t feel quite right. Fortunately, birth is that perfect and happens in spite of us sometimes, and my second child was born vaginally after a short, but intense, labor. Instead of coping with the injury of major abdominal surgery, my body only had some perineal tearing to heal from. I was otherwise whole!! It was an amazing feeling.
I focused the early time after this birth on bonding with my newest son, being a mother to two little souls and creating the right balance for our newly expanded family. Yes, balance. I hadn’t really achieved balance after the birth of my first child. I went from compensating for our rough start to focusing on my VBAC. My second birth experience brought our family the joy and peace that can only be found in balance. I soon learned how important that was for our family. I learned that my husband was a wonderful father, when I let him be! I learned that I could be the primary figure in my baby’s life and still allow in the love others felt for him. We were now a family of four…but we didn’t stay that way for very long.
My third child was born two and a half years after my second. I found myself pregnant again before I ever really had the chance to decide if I was ready for it. Ready or not, here he came! I was initially surprised. Then I had a minor freak out as we were planning to move back to Ventura in a few months. Finally, the joy that the prospect of new life inevitably brings set in. I soon began to envision the ways I would make this birth everything I wanted. This journey led me to seek the care of midwife rather than an OB this time. The midwife I chose was a lay midwife, one who is trained through apprenticeship, rather than a licensed or certified nurse midwife since the latter have difficulty attending VBACs due to the poor birth climate in our area. It also led me to plan to birth at home rather than in the hospital. I wanted a home birth. It was the right choice for our family and this birth. That was a good thing since we were in the process of moving back to Ventura, where there are no hospitals or providers who attend VBACs. Without the stress of finding a place or provider to “allow” my VBAC, I spent my time networking with other VBAC moms and homebirth moms. I surrounded myself with positive notions of birth and my body’s ability to give birth. I learned more about the risks of birth and its different venues. I became more and more certain I was making the choices and preparations that were right for me and my family.
My due date came and went. I began to sense a tiny speck of doubt creep into my mind. I had never gone into labor on my own. First the c-section, then the induction…What if I couldn’t? I read anything and everything I could find about natural induction. All the while, trying to remind myself that there is nothing natural about ANY induction and I was not experiencing any situation that warranted an induction. I went as far as going to the health foods store and buying two herbal tinctures commonly used for “natural induction”. I sat them on the top of my refrigerator, where I could see them. That was enough, a reminder that—if I really wanted to—I could take control of the situation. Control wasn’t what I wanted, though. I wanted affirmation, proof, evidence that I was not broken. Proof that my body was able, start to finish, to give birth to a baby. That affirmation came soon.
I spent most of the day crabby and uncomfortable on January 8th. Sure enough, nine days past my due date, I was in labor!! I didn’t recognize this fact until about 3:30 in the morning. I called my support people and my midwife. We let my husband sleep until 6:00am, but at that point he needed to get up because I was feeling very “push-y” and my midwife (who was travelling from Bakersfield) was not there yet. Once again, my labor had been fast and intense. I was definitely surprised by this. I thought the lack of Pitocin would mean a much slower labor. I was wrong, but things never felt like they were rushing ahead of me this time. My best friends and my husband accommodated my animalistic rambling while my two children slept. Baby #3 and I did the work we needed to do while our gracious circle of support looked on.
My urges to push and his urges to be born were getting very intense when my midwife arrived. She asked where we wanted to “do this” and I motioned to my bed. I assumed she was going to check me. After all, the professional had arrived. I must need someone to tell me I was ready to push, right? Wrong. I lay on the bed through a contraction and then asked if I had to lay there for the next one. My midwife chuckled and said, “No, honey, if you don’t need to push right now you can do whatever you need to”. DING! A glowing lightbulb went off in my head and finally penetrated my entire being. I was doing this. My baby was doing this. We didn’t need anyone to tell us we were ready or okay or anything. I knew we were ready. I asked someone to wake the kids and see if they wanted to watch. They did. I assumed a comfortable position and pushed. I pushed when my body asked me to and rested when it didn’t. My pushing was so serene this time, so respectful, so quiet. The pain of pushing was different this time since my little guy decided to tuck a fist next to his cheek. I could feel this difference and turned to my support people for reassurance. I needed it in that moment. My midwife assured me that things were fine. The calm of the others confirmed this. I was so glad they were there. Soon, my third son had peacefully entered this world. I, for the third time, became a mother.
The vast differences in my birth experiences have provided me ample opportunity for personal growth and exploration. I continue to learn, grow and change with my children every day. There is a saying that states no two children have the same two parents. This is certainly true for our family. We have all learned and grown so much through the journey of growing our family. I am certainly grateful to the people who have put themselves out personally and professionally to make these transformative experiences possible for us. The absence of their support may have made creating the safe spaces I have needed along the way, from operating rooms to my bedroom, very challenging.
My kids are now 8, 4 and almost 2. I must be on “Official Mom Moment #876,007” and I still have many more than that to go. Fortunately, I feel prepared through the ability to choose and obtain the birth and life situations that allow us to live our best existence. Sadly, I meet so many women who have not been afforded these choices. Who haven’t been able to be born into all of the potential they possess. That is why I became involved with the International Cesarean Awareness Network (ICAN) and currently co-lead the Ventura County Chapter. If my story and my experience can help any woman gain access to the care and experience she desires, I am glad to share. Women need the support of other women through childbirth and motherbirth.
