Kira was breech at 36 weeks and I was in a panic. I had planned a homebirth with the midwives, my husband, my doula, my mom and my aunt. We had bought the kiddie pool that she was to be born into. I hated hospitals, distrusted doctors, and feared the typical birth interventions that took place during a medicalized labour and delivery. Since my baby was small, well-positioned and surrounded by lots of amniotic fluid, I opted for the midwives at the Midwifery Group to attempt an external cephalic version, where they put their hands on your belly and flip the baby like a loaf of bread inside you. The first attempt failed, but the second attempt was successful. I was thrilled!
I went into labour at 11:30pm Thursday night. I was excited to start my labour as I was 8 days past my due date, but I also knew I needed sleep, so I told my husband I was going to bed. The contractions were 8 minutes apart, so I went to sleep and got on my hands and knees for the contractions all night long, until about 4 am when I found I couldn’t drift off between them anymore. I got up and timed a couple and discovered they were 2-3 minutes apart!
My aunt was prepared to call the midwife, but I had done some volunteer doula work and knew that early labour could be misleading. I took a shower and then got in the bath instead. The hot water was a huge relief as otherwise I could not sit or lie down during the contractions. At 7am we called Celine, our midwife, and Shannon, our doula. They both arrived around 8am.
I was out of the bath by now and the contractions had picked up. I thought I was probably entering active labour, but Celine watched me have a few contractions and guessed I was still in early labour. I suddenly became frightened. If this was early labour, I was in trouble! I had a long way to go. I asked myself if I could do this for another 12 hours and I decided that I could. I would! I was not going to the hospital for pain control. No way, Jose.
She offered to check my cervix and I agreed. We went upstairs and when Celine checked me she said, “oh, you’re going to love me.” I was thinking, “please just tell me I’m 5cm . . .” She said, “You’re 10cm. You’re fully dilated.” I sat up with an expletive of disbelief. I felt great! Could it be that I was FINISHED already? I said, “what should I do? Should I push?” But I wasn’t feeling the urge to push. Then suddenly I did. It was an overwhelming, seizure-like rushing and I felt something coming out. I shouted, “she’s coming!”, but it was only my bag of waters breaking, and it burst all over the bed. Luckily we had a plastic sheet down– the first rule of homebirths!
Then the pushing started. I think it’s funny that they call it the “urge” to push as for me it was more like a freight train barrelling down my vagina. Meanwhile downstairs my husband was getting the kiddie pool ready. The pump to blow up the pool had a rechargeable battery, but it wasn’t charged! So there is my husband doing some breathing exercises of his own trying to get the pool blown up. On top of that, when he went to fill it up, we discovered that I had depleted the hot water tank with my earlier shower and bath. When I came downstairs and stepped into the pool, it was absolutely tepid. My mom and aunt laughed as they boiled water, that typical TV homebirth pasttime, on the stove, in the microwave and in the kettle. They poured it into the pool, but it didn’t make a dent. Oh well!
At this point things got noisy. I was roaring like some crazed Tasmanian devil. But it wasn’t that it hurt so badly, it was more like I had to match the intensity that was going on down below with something up above . . . my mouth. I was able to relax fully between contractions, though, and follow Celine’s instructions for pushing. Unlike most women, who tend to enjoy the pushing stage, I found it to be the hardest, most exhausting part of my labour. I will tell you that it was wonderful to push my baby out without a chorus of PUSH, PUSH, PUSH like you see so many times on TV. I think if someone would have shouted “PUSH!” at me, they would have ended up with their head underwater.
After thirty-five minutes of pushing, Kira crowned and out she came. She was put right on my chest and rubbed down with blankets. She didn’t cry right away, but I could see her little eyes were open and she was breathing quietly. Then she gave a little cry. It was such a beautiful moment. We had done it! Our first adventure together as mother and daughter was our homebirth.
As Celine cleaned me up, my husband held the baby and sang to her. She was wide awake, having no drugs whatsoever in her system, just listening to her daddy’s song. I only needed a couple of stitches and we began nursing.
I never imagined that my first birth experience could be so wonderful! I think about it almost every day, and I am so thankful. I know so much of it is the luck of the draw, but I also know that the care I received and my ability to remain relaxed in my birth environment played a huge role as well.
Okay, I wear Birkenstocks but I have short hair. I try to eat healthy, but I’m no granola cruncher. Really I had never heard the term “granola cruncher” until someone used it in reference to having a midwife.
I love midwifery. I love the concept. I think it’s a great idea. I had a great experience with my midwife. But before you tune me out, hear me out. I have given birth to 2 healthy girls. The first in July 2002 and the second in May 2004. I feel that I have an authority to speak on the subject because I had an obstetrician with my first and a midwife with my second. I actually thought a midwife was what I wanted with my first, but I really knew very little at that point. By the time that we announced our pregnancy to friends and suggested that we wanted a midwife, they told us that we’d probably not get one as the waiting lists are so long and you have to call the minute you find out you’re pregnant. I was discouraged and didn’t bother trying for a midwife. I believed my friends. So I went the OB route. I used an OB that my friends had used and liked. They did warn me that he wasn’t super friendly at first, but as your pregnancy progressed, he’d warm up. Boy that was accurate. He was good enough, but it took a while for him to warm to us.
Some of our experiences with the OB are that we would have to wait a LONG time in his office to be seen. He was often triple booked for his appointments. He was still seeing patients after dinner time because he was so busy!
We were first time parents so we had many questions. We learned that if we didn’t have them written down, ready to ask in our allotted time, tough luck. We were given only 5-10 minutes for the whole appointment, after waiting at least ½ hour. It really felt rushed.
I also felt very unaware of the tests that were being offered and why. It was usually “You have to go and do this.” I never knew that I had a choice not to take certain tests. I’d never been through this before and didn’t have many friends who had either (we were the start of a large boom of friends with children).
I also knew right off the bat that the chances of having my OB deliver my baby were slim. It would be whoever was on. As a result of this and other things, my husband and I hired a doula, who was very supportive before and during the birth. I learned many things from her.
When it came time to have our baby, I had a long early labour and arrived at the hospital about 3cms or so. I was finally admitted. I went through 4 shifts of nurses. (Most of whom were fantastic!) The resident OB wanted to break my waters and give me pitocin right away. I was in no hurry and we managed to fend him off.
At one point there were 10 people in my room: me, my husband, my doula and her apprentice, the OB, resident OB, nurse, student nurse and another doctor and resident. I kid you not, TEN people in my room when I’m in labour. I was not thought of as a person, a woman, a human being, but a specimen.
Over all, I am happy as I had a vaginal delivery, but with nubaine, nitrous oxide and finally an epidural (it took 3 tries) then the pitocin. I wanted no medicines, but I was too tired. Over all it was a 66 hour ordeal. The nurses were really good, but the OB…let’s just say that my husband wouldn’t let her in the room because she had upset me so much. She was only allowed in to catch the baby. And I mean the nurse said “Okay, stop pushing. Somebody call the doctor in NOW.”
By the time I was considering a second I had enough friends who had midwives who could attest to how good the experience was. I called the minute I found out I was pregnant and found out a couple of weeks later that I had gotten in. I got a midwife that 2 of my friends had and really liked. I was thrilled. I met my midwife when I was about 10 weeks pregnant and decided that I liked her and the philosophy right away. (It was at about 16 weeks that I saw the OB for the first time).
I was not rushed. We often had close to one hour to talk and ensure things were going well. I wasn’t forced into tests that I didn’t want. I felt like I had options. One test that was huge for me was for Group B strep. I had no recollection of having it the first time. I guess the OB just did it and it was a negative result. Because I was considering a home birth, I thought long and hard about having the test and finally decided to go ahead with it. A healthy hospital birth was better than a sick home birth.
I was made aware that I may not have my midwife present at my birth as they work a rotation. But I met 3 other midwives who could be present if my “primary” was not. So no matter who would be at the birth, I would have met them at least once before.
I felt like my midwife really cared. There were little details that she remembered that blew me away. Even if it was from reading my chart before I got there…she had read it at least! I really felt that I was the one making the decisions. There was no pressure for home or hospital birth. My husband and I had decided slowly that we would like to try a homebirth, but knowing that we were literally a 5 minute drive from the General Hospital if we needed to go.
Once again I had a long early labour. It did take a while for a midwife to see me because due to unforeseen circumstances they were short 2 midwives that weekend and there were other people in labour. That was a frustrating time but it was also so short in the whole scheme of things. It worked out really well for me as my primary midwife was able to come to my house to assess how things were going. And they were going. We discussed my options and I decided to wait it out some more (I had already been having contractions for 24 hours with no sleep). We decided that I would TRY to sleep, my midwife would go home and we’d call if we needed her in the night. Well, we decided to call her in the night. I couldn’t even rest. She came again and supported me for a while before we decided to go to the hospital. (By this time my toddler was awake and my in-laws were sleeping in the basement). I needed a change of pace.
My husband was actually hesitant to go to the hospital as he remembered the chaos from the last time. I knew from friends that no one would see us other than the midwives. We arrived at the hospital around 9am, broke my water, laboured for a bit, but my second daughter was born before 11:30 am. I used the nitrous oxide as I had 2 sleepless nights already, but it was little more than a distraction. The midwives, in their wisdom, had me stand up to push. I remember saying, “So this is what they mean when they say ‘urge to bear down’”. What an experience. I kneeled to push the rest and was kneeling when my daughter was born. Gravity IS your friend! I pushed for only about 15 minutes and felt emotionally supported through the process. The midwife told me when to push more or less (to minimize tearing). It was an amazing experience!
We went home a few hours after. (I didn’t even get into my experience from staying in the hospital with my first. Let’s just leave it at I left early.)
I was supported by my midwife for 6 weeks postpartum. I wish I had that with my first. I think this is such a critical area. I had an experience with a public health nurse with my first that left me in tears and to this day I wouldn’t see one about my children. The midwife, because she was able to follow me for 6 weeks, could tell that my baby was well-fed.
Anyhow, all this to say…I’ve done it both ways and I had an over all more positive experience with a midwife. If you chose to or have to have an OB it will be okay as well, but I’d recommend a doula for sure.
I am now pregnant with my third and have a midwife again. Things have been smooth and I have a good relationship my midwife, who is the same as before. Our meetings are relaxed and I am able to talk about whatever I need to. I am looking forward to this whole experience again!
My husband and I had been married only a few months when we found out that we were pregnant. We were thrilled, excited and scared. I knew that I was interested in having a Midwife as my health practitioner. I called a few clinics and I was put on the waiting lists. A few weeks later I received a phone call to tell me that there was a Midwife available.
We went to the Collective and met with Stephanie. We were so pleased with the warm welcome that we received. Stephanie provided us with a lot of information. She was wonderful, knowledgeable and professional.
Preparation
I had a wonderful pregnancy. However, I was scared to death to give birth. All I had ever heard were the horror stories. I became more frightened. In response to this, my husband and I took many wonderful courses that helped us immensely. We took the prenatal class with Julie K and the “bringing the baby home” with Erin S and finally, we took the hypno-birthing course with Pia A. After some discussion, we decided to engage the services of the doula. Pia was and still is a wonderful support to our family.
The Labour and Delivery
I carried to 39 weeks when I went into labour. On Saturday November 24th, 2007, I felt extremely tired the entire day. I rested most of the day. In the evening, I watched a movie and was about to head to bed when I felt a lot of pressure. It felt like the head was moving down. I thought that that was strange since I was still at least 1 week away from my due date. I spoke to my husband, Aaron and explained what I was feeling. We headed up to bed; it was about 10pm.
I believe we called our doula and she told us to go to bed and rest. Aaron and I tried to go to sleep; but I had to keep getting up. I walked around my house and rested on the sofa and sat on the toilet a lot. I really did not understand what was going on. We were both in denial – it couldn’t be labour.
Aaron and I laboured all night together. Looking back, it was great that we experienced all of this on our own. Aaron was an amazing support. He helped me so much and got me whatever I needed. I took many showers that night. We finally decided to call Pia at 6:30a.m. sunday morning to ask her when I would be going into labour. Silly us! She responded that I was in labour. She arrived at our house at 7:30am. I was using the hypno-birthing techniques to get through each surge. Aaron and Pia were amazing with the support they provided to me.
The birth
Aaron called the midwives at 8:30am and they arrived at 9:20am. I was sitting on the toilet when Myriam and Elisabeth (student) arrived. They set up the guest room beautifully. I was continuing to breathe through my surges when the baby crowned. What a feeling! Pia checked me and said that the baby was coming. We all ran into the guest room – well, I kind of waddled to the bedroom. I asked what I should do and somebody told me to get comfortable. I got on all fours on the bed and I heard Myriam ask Aaron if he wanted to catch the baby. He said yes. Aaron crouched down and waited. I can remember him saying how beautiful the little face was. When the baby came out, he said, “oh, Auramarina, it’s a girl and she’s beautiful”. Aaron was the first person to touch her – our precious Isabella was born at 9:49am on Sunday November 25th, 2007. A few minutes later, I birthed the placenta. The Midwife and the student midwife were wonderful. They helped me get into the shower and they got us comfortable. Pia washed our laundry and the ladies made us tea. It was the most phenomenal experience of my life. I was flying high. I did it and it was amazing! Aaron and I are so happy that we trusted our midwives and our doula. This team truly made our birthing experience amazing.
The postpartum-care
The postpartum care was great. Our midwife came to our house on the 1st, 3rd and 5th day. Stephanie examined the baby and me. We were at home where it was comfortable and familiar. It was truly an amazing experience. The hard work began but it’s all worth it. Isabella is now 17 months old and we adore her to pieces.
My husband and I were living in Colombia for the birth of our first two children. Both pregnancies seemed pretty normal, the care given by our doctor was excellent and as the due dates arrived, we seemed pretty prepared. Both children were born in a (freezing) operating room with a full team of masked doctors, nurses, and sterile equipment. I had given birth naturally, but had received epidurals for both – there didn’t seem to be a choice about getting one or not, my only decision was WHEN to get the needle. I stayed in the hospital overnight on both occasions, and as there were no complications, went home within 24 hours. Everything seemed normal/perfect. Feeling swollen for a few weeks, and the hemorrhoids I got from pushing, were the worst things I could say about our experiences.
When we moved to Canada, we got pregnant before we had found a family physician. Concerned, I went to a clinic to ask about a doctor and they told me that they would follow the pregnancy for the first months then further on, they would send me to an OB but that it would be the doctor on duty at the hospital who would ultimately deliver the baby. I was not impressed, especially after the excellent follow through I had experienced in Colombia. That’s when I started to think about a conversation I had had with an old friend a few years prior. She had shared her experience with the midwives and had raved of the personalized treatment and the feeling of being able to deliver at home. With nothing to lose, I looked into midwifery in Ottawa.
Fortunately, the office I called was able to squeeze me in – I think they felt bad because I had no family physician and had recently returned to the country. My Colombian husband was a bit confused. We came to a ‘civilized’ country, an ‘advanced’ nation to be attended by midwives?! (He initially referred to them as a form of Shaman, or witch doctor, asking jokingly if when the contractions started, they would open their medical bags and set up the candles and incense.) He wasn’t pleased. My mom was confused…a midwife? But a doctor will be on hand for the delivery, right? I was thrilled at the idea of having continuous care – someone who would be with me right through to the end; something that the doctor world here couldn’t do. I was decided – a midwife would deliver this baby, but I chose a hospital birth…just in case.
Nine months went along quickly – my appointments were very laid back. I was given information, asked to make choices and I was never made to feel bad about what I chose. For being my third child, everything felt strangely new. I didn’t have all of the blood work, or the ultrasounds that I had had before, so my husband remained skeptical. How do we know if the baby is ok if we can’t see him? My first child had regular ultrasounds and her final one a few weeks before her due date showed that the umbilical cord was around her neck (for which reason she was induced a week early). What if this happened again?! Would the baby strangle himself?
Contractions started the day before the due date. As the evening hit, they were mild, bearable, inconsistent. As they got stronger, I got ready for a long night/morning of discomfort, when suddenly, my water broke/exploded. It was 1AM – I called my midwife who advised me to call back in half an hour when the contractions got a bit closer. I called my parents to come over and watch the kids. Even though the contractions didn’t seem too bad, my mom insisted we head to the hospital because it was pretty far away. We couldn’t risk having the baby in the van – it’s a lease, after all. My mom ended up coming to help my husband get us checked in (because of possible language difficulties), but planned on leaving as soon as I was settled. With little traffic, we got to the hospital at 1:40. The nurses called my midwife to tell that I had arrived and she rushed over just as I was being wheeled into a birthing room. The contractions had really picked up by this point and the baby had decided it was time to come out.
By 2:11 AM, with my mom and husband present, Josée guided Felipe out, unwrapped the umbilical cord (which was wrapped around his neck twice) and handed him to me. My husband cut the umbilical cord. Felipe and I enjoyed some nice skin to skin time as we waited for the placenta to be delivered and we joked about not having been able to take advantage of all the birthing aids the Montfort Hospital had shown during our tour. No drugs, no doctor, no masks, no sterile environment, no complications – what an experience. I had a healthy baby, feeling in my legs and was on my way home by 5:00 AM. I didn’t even have to pay for parking everything went so quickly! Incredible. The delivery was just like the whole pregnancy – low key, very natural – all about the baby.
I got home before my kids had woken up; they were a bit confused to see this little guy looking up through his puffy eyes when they came out of their rooms. My dad was in shock to see us all back so fast. Josée visited us later that day to make sure we were all fine, the first of several post partum visits. This was new for us as well, and probably what impressed us the most of the whole experience. The midwives made sure that we were both doing well after the birth. No doctor would provide that type of treatment – not here, not anywhere.
After all is said and done, my husband and mother have definitely changed their thinking about midwifery. My mom enjoys telling people of the experience for the shock value of the speed of delivery and the fact I was released so fast. Having such great follow-up after the birth made this possible. When my daughter plays doctor with her Dora doll, she asks that we call her Dr. Josée.
If another baby were in our future, I would definitely return to the midwives and might even try for a home birth. My question now is, why don’t all women turn to midwives?
We knew Miriam was breech for months. Kept waiting for her to turn, but she didn’t. We tried everything – lying with my hips in the air, acupuncture, moxibustion, hypnosis, playing music to her, and an unheard-of 4 attempts at external cephalic version (ECV). Nothing had any effect and it became very clear that she was either going to turn of her own volition, or not at all.
So we started exploring options for delivering her breech – by necessity a hospital birth because breech delivery is considered “high risk” and outside our midwife’s area. She was in the “perfect” position and conditions for vaginal breech delivery – her feet up by her head, chin tucked, was a smaller baby than Samuel had been (although obviously we didn’t know by how much), I had delivered Samuel very quickly and easily. Unfortunately, with the help of our midwife, we were only able to find two practitioners in the region who would be willing to catch the baby, IF we were to go into labour when they were on call, AND we walked into the hospital ready to push. We figured our chances were about 50-50 that we’d get what we wanted. As it turned out, we went into labour on the wrong day.
It was funny – on Friday morning when we woke up, I looked at Stephen and said, “I don’t think I’m going into labour any time soon – I feel completely normal.” Famous last words. My waters broke gently around 8am – I wasn’t sure at first that it had happened, but then when the trickle didn’t stop, and started “gushing” when I changed position, it became pretty clear. But no contractions yet. I called our midwife and she started making phone calls. We knew we were on an “off” day but there was a possibility, if there was a different senior OB on call at one of our identified hospitals, that if we walked in about to push that, like it or not, they’d catch the baby. Our midwife found out that there was “no chance” at our local hospital, she knew the OB who was on. She knew that once contractions started, I was likely to go very fast, so she advised us to meet her as soon as possible at a different hospital because at least there, there was still a chance because we didn’t KNOW the OB wouldn’t do it. Stephen left to drop Samuel off at the sitter, and I continued to assemble things to leave the house. Our midwife called back shortly after that, and let us know that she had talked to our “consult” OB from the hospital and his feeling was the OB on call wouldn’t be able to do it for us either. I started crying. Her advice was still to go to the rural hospital, that we might have more flexibility there than we would with the “big admin” local hospital, and suggested we get there asap, hopefully still before I started contractions, so that we could have a rational conversation with the OB who was “in.” I had a couple of very low-grade contractions in the car – nothing that felt any different from a Braxton-Hicks contraction.
We got to the hospital and the OB was in clinic. Since we still hadn’t “started” we went down to the cafeteria to have some lunch and wait either for her to arrive or for us to “need” her to arrive. I was feeling hopeful again at this point – once she looked me in the face, how could she not agree?
When she arrived, though, she told us point blank that she couldn’t offer anything other than “elective c-section.” She had trained after the Term Breech Trial and had only delivered about 12 in the course of her career. Here we were again, though, with that “elective” word that was just not an option. So I said, “What if I refuse a c-section?” I felt I was being so rude, but I had to push, and make sure she wasn’t bluffing. She said if that were the case she’d have to call the medical emergency service, which would proceed to search the entire province for an OB on call who would be willing to help us. Except that there was no way I could leave town to deliver this baby, not with Samuel at home, not with how fast labour was going to go once it started (risking Stephen having to deliver a breech baby in the car somewhere between cities), and we already knew that the service would find nobody in town, because we had already done that homework. “I’m not in labour yet” I said “there’s still a chance she’ll turn, babies DO turn in labour sometimes, I don’t want to cut short the time she’s got to do it in”. I was feeling more and more desperate. I said, “This isn’t an emergency, I’m not IN labour right now, I don’t believe we need to do this right now. How long do I have before this becomes a problem for you?” and she told me that 24 hours from ruptured membranes was as far as we “could go” (which we pretty much knew). Thing is, if the baby waited 24 hours, then it would be Saturday at 8am, and one of our identified OB’s would be on at the other hospital. We explained this to her and she was willing to give us this chance. If we went into labour before then, and the baby still didn’t turn, we would come back to this hospital for the surgery.
So they let us “out on a pass” and we went walking downtown. We went in and out of a couple of stores, and I quickly found I couldn’t bear to be looking at people who were having ordinary lives, and REALLY couldn’t bear their very friendly questions about my pregnancy, when I was due, and “Oh my goodness you’re having it TODAY? That’s so EXCITING!” We went and sat and watched the waterfall while I cried my heart out – my poor mother. We walked down to the other park by the river and I asked Stephen and my mum to leave me alone to meditate for a while. I sat in the sun for more than an hour and watched the water and cried and breathed and waited. I had one big contraction sitting there, and it happened after I was finally able to think PAST the inevitable and think about holding Miriam and nursing her.
Shortly after that, my mum and Stephen came back to me and suggested we go find a Bed & Breakfast so that if evening came and we still hadn’t gotten started we’d have a place to lie down. So we went back to the main street and into the antique shop we’d been in before to ask for recommendations. Had another contraction. Went next door to the little department store to buy high-waist undies (I don’t normally own these) – had 2 more contractions. We got in the car and headed for the B&B and signed in. It was about 5:30. I had 2 major contractions while we were there (within about 20 minutes), and we decided we’d better head back up to the hospital.
We got to the hospital at 6pm and it was as if a switch turned on and suddenly I was in transition. The OB came into the room and actually sat down cross-legged on the floor so that she could talk to me at eye level, and went over the “risks of c-section” (as if I had a choice) and things I “should know.” I had about 8 contractions over the next hour, and at about 7pm alerted our midwife that I was starting to feel pressure in back and that they had better check me. The OB came back in to check me and just kinda stopped dead. “Where are we at?” I asked. “9 cm” she said. All I had left was a lip. I swear she almost let me go. Almost. Then she got scared again I guess because all h*ll broke loose as they suddenly rushed to get me into the OR. They were paging people, had trouble finding the pediatrician, etc… I was pushing before they got me in there. The only reason Miriam didn’t just come out was because my midwife got right in front of my face and I could look into her eyes and breathe with her – not pushing was the hardest thing I could’ve imagined. And my body was still doing it. Once they had the spinal in it slowed my body down but only just enough for them. I don’t think anybody in that room thought the right thing was happening. “Somebody is PUSHING” said the anaesthetist… I think she was trying to give the OB an excuse to stop.
Spinal anaesthetic is a WEIRD feeling. I thought I’d be completely numb but wasn’t – just no temperature and no pain; my legs felt fuzzy, like pins and needles, and I could still feel them touching me and all kinds of pulling, just no pain. Not what I expected.
They tried really hard to give us as close to a gentle birth as they could. They let Stephen and my mum and our midwife all come in with me. They brought in the cd I’d been listening to. Our midwife told me what was going on as they went through the layers, and my mum described as Miriam came out. She says the OB used really really gentle hands on my daughter. Miriam came out proclaiming that she was breathing and didn’t need to be suctioned. My mum told me she was bright red, I don’t know her apgars but they must’ve been good with the amount of noise she was making. They laid her on my belly (couldn’t feel it, but my midwife told me when she was there), and let the cord stop pulsing before clamping and Stephen cut it. They let the placenta detach more-or-less on its own (the OB did some pretty heavy massage to help it but didn’t cut it away) before sewing me up.
Stephen and our midwife went with Miriam to the warmer while they did their initial checks, and then our midwife popped Miriam inside Stephen’s shirt as soon as she could get her hands on her. As soon as they could they brought her over and laid her beside my head – I couldn’t really see her but she was alert and touching my face and I sang to her while they closed the incisions. As soon as I was closed they put her on my chest and moved us into our room to “recover” – crazy word, that, as if it’s something that could happen overnight.
The staff was wonderful. They had EACH read our birthplan and were doing their damnedest to give us everything that they could, and it was as if each nurse was silently apologizing to me for what had happened. Nobody believed that it had been right – only that it had been the only choice, because the OB had never had the opportunity to get good enough at breech delivery to do it “safely.” Realistically, I would’ve had that little baby out in about 3 pushes and nothing would’ve gone wrong. And everybody knew it.
The OB came to talk to me before she went home, and said as much herself. “This doesn’t feel right,” she said. I know that if the opportunity arises for her to gain experience in delivering breeches she’ll jump at it – she clearly believes that especially with “low risk breeches” like ours the choice of how to deliver should belong to the family.
They let us go home the next night – unheard of for a c-section – because we had the midwifery care that includes home visits. We’re recovering “normally” for what we’ve been through.
Miriam is a wonderful baby. Very patient and gentle, cries very little. At birth she was 6lbs 10oz, and 20” long. At 5 days old she was already 7lbs 3oz – growing like her brother did! She was born with a head of dark hair that we think will probably fall out and come back blonde, but then probably darken again over time as mine did. We are lucky to have her, and my love for her is undiminished by the circumstances of her birthing.
My husband and I were married two years ago, and we are in our late 30’s / early 40’s. I have a beautiful 15-year-old daughter from a previous relationship, and had been disappointed with the birth experience with her. I felt that there was too much intervention, I had received an epidural which slowed down the progression of the birth, so after pushing for three hours, forceps were used to deliver Zoë. My baby was whisked off to the nursery, and I saw her again only the next day. I remember feeling awful the next day and thinking the stitches from the episiotomy were almost worse that the contractions! I was left with a somewhat negative impression of this experience which morphed into fear over the next few years of ‘having to go through all of that’ again if I wanted another child.
Here we are 15 years later, and becoming pregnant again was something that I had not really given much thought to until I met my husband. When I did become pregnant, I knew that I wanted this birth to be different, and I harboured a lot of fear that related back to Zoë’s birth: Fear of pain, fear of losing control, fear of being embarrassed, etc.. We decided that, this time around, we would get the support we needed and that would allow us to prepare for the birth in a way that was reflective of our values and experiences. A friend of mine at work had told me about their birth experience at home with a midwife. I have to say that this is not something I had ever considered before, given that I am such a risk-averse person. But their story was so touching, and it sounded very appealing to me to be able to birth safely in my own environment, with my husband by my side. They actually seemed to cherish the memory of their birth experience, which was in such contrast with my own experience with my daughter. So when I became pregnant, I immediately called the midwifery group as I knew that they were very much in demand. I was truly lucky to find a wonderful collective of midwives to work with, and they made me and my husband feel comfortable to address all the issues and questions we had. The point is that they made us feel like this birth was about US, not about following rules and procedures etc. I felt such relief that we found the midwives and that we could think about birth in a positive way instead of fearing it!
The decision to have a home birth happened a bit later in the pregnancy, with the support of our midwife. I attended the home birth information session, and the midwives explained to us how their training and experience allows them to manage emergencies, and their professionalism really impressed me. After getting to know our primary midwife over the course of several months and supported by a fantastic doula, we felt ready to plan a home birth! My pregnancy had gone smoothly (at least from a medical point of view, as I had nausea throughout the whole nine months 😉 ), and the baby was presenting the right way etc. We live 5 minutes from 2 major hospitals, and we felt confident that the midwives would make sure that we were safe and adequately prepared for the home birth.
On December 10 (the baby was expected later in the month), my appointment with the midwife revealed that I was 50% effaced and 1-2 cms dilated. I thought nothing of it, as one can walk around like this for weeks, apparently. But the next morning, I woke up to my water breaking around 6 am. We called the midwife and the doula to let them know, and I think we were all under the impression that things would take a while to unfold, as is often the case after rupturing of the membranes. Or so I though! I had had some cramping since the water broke, but nothing worse than those prelabour contraction episodes that I had been having for weeks. However the contractions started picking up quickly shortly after 9am, and I had some pretty intense cramping which became active labour around 10 am. It all happened very fast, and the surges were coming fast and furious: I was moaning and complaining pretty loudly by this time, walking around the house as I could only take the contractions standing up. My husband called the midwife back and suggested she come over asap. When she got to our house around 11am, she found that I was dilated 7-8 cms!!! From then on things are pretty much a blur, and I laboured hard until around 12 pm when I slipped into a warm bath, which slowed things down a bit and gave me a short break. Our doula arrived in the meantime, and she and the midwife encouraged me to change positions a few times after that to help the baby rotate from right to left and to help him descend properly. It was really strange how I felt I was in my own world, disconnected from reality, and I remember whimpering to the midwife: I can’t do this! And she would answer: but you ARE doing it! It was like being in a thick fog, and my doula’s voice was the only thing guiding me through each contraction. I remember being comforted by the midwives and the doula being so incredibly calm: I figured everything had to be going smoothly, everyone kept complimenting me and encouraging me. Things really picked up after the bath when I hit full transition, and we did some work on the birthing ball and then sat on the toilet for a while. That was pretty intense, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take, and then all of a sudden, as I was breathing through a contraction, I got this really strong urge to push. We all rushed back to the bed and I got on hands and knees: 7 minutes and just a few pushes later, Liam was born at 10 to 3pm. No tearing!
What an unbelievable experience! We were so happy to have him at home, the midwives and the doula are angels and I could never have done this without their unfaltering support and outstanding care.
Our baby Liam was very calm and awake, eyes wide open for about an hour, taking in the world around him, and we starting nursing an hour or so later. I couldn’t believe that I was up and walking on my own within the hour! Recuperating from the birth went so well, the midwives came to care for us at home for the first week or two, which is wonderful. I think that being able to birth at home helped me feel safe and secure, not at the mercy of the medical system, and it made a world of difference to me. Now when I see my friends who are pregnant, I am actually nostalgic about the very thing I had dreaded so much; but my birth experience turned out to be one of the most magical moments of our life!
