I have always been a woman who did what I wanted,
and did it well. When people have told me over the years that I
couldn’t do something, I’d laugh. My response has always been, "The
only thing that stops you, is you. Nothing else."
So, here I was, 27 years old and three months
from finishing grad school…after eight years of college in a
male-dominated profession, and I find out I'm pregnant. I had all the
signs, but dismissed them as other physiological variants for whatever
reason. I was in shock. (I am usually very in tune with my body, but
this sure side-swiped me.) My husband of eight months was thrilled, as
he was 34, but all I could do was cry. I looked at him and said, "I’m
not ready to have a baby." His response, with a huge hug was, "That’s
why they give you nine months." I laughed through the tears.
We sat on the couch for 30 minutes, as I stared
into my future and saw all my dreams dying. Most women dream of their
wedding day and having children. Not me. I wanted to go to Las Vegas
when we got married and I never dreamed of having children. I wanted a
nice home, in a quiet neighborhood, with nice cars, lots of
spontaneous travel and elegant dinners out without the hassle of
babysitters, diapers and other child-oriented issues. My husband
really wanted a family and I figured one day, after I was set in my
career and had a few of the things I wanted, I’d probably change my
mind and desire a family….but now was too soon. Or was it?
I guessed that I was about a month along when we
found out I was pregnant. I never spoke that I was upset I was
pregnant. I know that the baby feels everything the mother feels, so I
desperately tried to make this a happy experience. I bought a leather
journal and started writing to the baby almost everyday. It helped
make it more real that I had a baby growing inside me and helped me
with feelings I encountered. Later that month, we backpacked through
Europe for two weeks and I still wrote to the baby everyday…but I
wasn’t about to cancel a trip we had planned just because I was
pregnant, despite the fact that everyone said I should. (If it ever
happens again, I’d cancel it.)
Rob and I had already discussed that we wanted
our children (someday) born at home. My brother and I were both born
at home without a midwife or doctor…and I was a frank breech, so I
figured if my mom could do it, so could I. At 27, I’ve never had a
prescription or recreational drug in my life, and I didn’t want my
child born with any drugs in his or her system. We also think that
technology is a wonderful thing, but not when it comes to a healthy,
normal physiological process like childbirth. We wanted no part of the
cascade of interventions done in the hospital, nor did I want the
resistance to our decisions for not wanting a PKU test, eye ointment,
vaccines, circumcision, etc. We wanted this to be a wonderful and
loving/trusting experience. I figured if worse came to worse, I’d end
up at the hospital like everyone else.
I weighed myself every month, mainly out of
curiosity. I had my blood pressure checked every month by a friend and
then later, by my husband. Once in a while I peed on ketone strips to
check for diabetes. I was viewed as irresponsible for not seeing a
doctor by many accounts. I would say, "Well, I see no reason for
throwing my money away. Everything I would let an OB/GYN do, I’m doing
at home." And what about the ultrasounds? "Why would I get one? They
‘appear’ to be safe, just like Thalidimide and fetal x-rays have been
touted as safe in the past. There’s no reason I need an
ultrasound….there’s nothing any doctor can do IF there are any
developmental problems, except abortion and that’s out of the question
for us. Not to mention all the false positives they get."
I went on my merry way and took care of myself
the way I knew how. I was adjusted regularly by a chiropractor, ate
well, took my vitamins, read lots of books, Rob and I took a Bradley
class so we would be on the same page, and of course, in my studies
I’ve taken obstetrics, gynecology and pediatrics. I felt really good
about our decision to have an unassisted birth at home.
I calculated the due date to be November 1, 2002
and on October 29th my water broke at 11:10am. My contractions really
started at about 4:30pm. By midnight it was clear this child was not
going to be born until later….so my husband and I opted for some
sleep. At 2:20am, my contractions were waking me up so much that we
just got up and took a walk around the block….again. By about 3am, I
needed some pain relief, so I hopped (figuratively) into the birthing
tub we rented. I figured this baby would be born by 6am with as much
pain as I was in. Well, 6am passed and so did noon. By this point, I
kept thinking the pain couldn’t get any more intense, but then I was
wrong….and it certainly did. I lost my focus and I was exhausted. I
asked for the oxygen and it really helped counteract the exhaustion.
My dad came in and helped support me, along with Rob, since it was
obvious we were both exhausted.
Around 3:40pm, I thought this baby was never
coming, but then I reached up and felt the baby’s head descending. I
suddenly got a second wind….and my baby was born at 3:52pm on October
30th. (Not a bad guesstimation without all that technology to inform
me when the baby was due, huh?) The cord was wrapped around his neck
once, which isn’t really a big deal, except that the cord was only 13
inches long and that certainly didn’t help the baby’s descent. My mom
saw the cord and unlooped it with a tight snap…and with the next
contraction, his body rotated and slid right out into the water. My
mom retrieved a baby boy from the water and handed him to me. I cried
so deeply. I was filled with so many emotions. It was the most surreal
moment of my life…I was someone’s mother.
I wanted to breastfeed Michael right away to help
expel the placenta, as well as for bonding, but I was in so much pain
and so tired, that I kept sinking into the water and I couldn’t keep
his face out of the water on my own. Once the cord stopped pulsating,
Rob cut it and I handed Michael over to him while I dealt with the
placenta. An hour and 15 minutes later, the placenta was delivered,
but still hanging on by a small portion. I took Michael and fed him.
Before I knew it, the placenta was just sitting there completely
unattached. I was extremely shaky and sore when I got out of the tub.
I got myself upstairs to shower, put some clothes on, and returned
downstairs to feed Michael…and myself.
About 4 hours after Michael was born, I had my
mom and dad (who are both chiropractors) check him for any
misalignments. Only one vertebra needed to be adjusted in his mid
back. His neck was completely aligned…I guess since no one had yanked
on it to force him out. Then a few hours later, we weighed him at 8
pounds 12 oz and he measured 20.5 inches.
Three days later I felt almost myself again.
Then, in the middle of the night, I began to hemorrhage. I got a
little worried, but took some uterine supporting supplements and
vitamin K for clotting and I went back to bed. By morning, the
bleeding had almost completely stopped. I realized that I had overdone
it that day, since I was feeling so good and I didn’t have a belly to
carry around anymore.
I did think I’d be more Zen-like through the
whole process, like so many of the stories I read at Bornfree and Waterbirth.org. I was
calm, for the first 17 hours, but the last few hours, I was scared. I
was scared that everyone was right. Scared that Rob and I had made a
wrong decision. I never uttered a word of it. I never said the word
"hospital," as I knew they would take me there without question….and
that prospect scared me even more than where I was. I had to trust and
let go of all control to allow a wonderful birth to occur.
Both of my parents were there, my brother, my
paternal grandmother, my best friend, who took all the incredible
pictures and my rock, my husband, Rob. He never left my side in 29
hours and kept me hydrated and supported (body, mind and spirit) the
entire time. Each time he saw any fear in my eyes, he’d look at me and
say, "You can do this. That’s my girl."
So, here I sit, writing this only 2 weeks after
Michael’s birth and I can honestly say that having a child is the most
miraculous thing in the world. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever
done, yet the most rewarding. Eight years of college seems like a
breeze after this childbirth thing. What’s funny, is that I don’t even
want a career right now. All I want to do is stare at him and watch
his funny faces, watch him sleep, and listen to him breathe as I hold
him against my chest. No one could have prepared me for the little
miracle that put my life into perspective about what is truly
important.
Site Design & Design Graphics
