Natural Child Birth Class

My mother, who is rather petit, had two completely natural births; My father is a very well respected acupuncturist; And I’ve always been the type of person to avoid even taking Advil at all costs. This is to say that despite being pre-conditioned to having a natural childbirth myself, when I became pregnant I had many doubts. I recall a phone conversation with my mom, after a particularly firm bowel movement, during which I shared my disbelief that women could bear children vaginally – honestly, how could they fit? I also doubted my ability to handle the pain without my dad there to do acupuncture (we lived on opposite coasts). Thankfully my friend, Google, led me to the Bradley Method.

Going to the Bradley classes helped my husband and me understand my body, the changes it makes to accommodate childbirth, and the choices and agency we have in the birthing room. Though I was enthusiastic about the class and the prospect of having a natural childbirth, it was the consistency of the classes and the repetition of the information and empowering message that transformed this “prospect” into will and reality! Simultaneously the classes took my husband from a place of, “Well maybe I’ll be there, but just near your head where I won’t see blood,” to a place of confidence and deep desire to be an integral part of the birthing process. Sharing this connection, trusting each other more than we ever had needed to before, and believing in a common goal for the health of our first child was so powerful; it was enough to allow me to let go of the “need” for my father/acupuncturist to be present – in fact I wouldn’t have wanted anyone there other than my husband and midwife. Over the twelve weeks, our Bradley teacher took us on an irreplaceable journey that gradually built self-belief through education.

My due date of January 6th came and went, and being someone who works to deadlines, I still had work to finish for my job, perhaps hedging my bets on the statistical 41 weeks + 1 day due date of January 14th. Well on Monday the 7th, around 11:00 am, I felt a light cramp. I continued calculating the non-profit’s gross grants received over the past 5 years for a tax form. Another light cramp, a deep breath, and a calm calculation of how much longer this form would take me to complete. I peacefully took my relaxing breaths every 6 to 10 minutes, surprised by how easy this seemed and confidant that labor would be do-able and maybe even easier than anticipated. Darren, who works from home, and I went for a walk, pausing, leaning and breathing when necessary. We passed another young couple with a big baby in a front carrier on our walk. They asked when I was due, and I responded cheerfully, “Tonight is the night!” Well night came and my contractions were not increasing in frequency from 6 minutes apart. We paged through all our Bradley reading, trying to find some advise on what to do since it was 11:00 pm – do we walk or sleep? Thankfully Darren found an anecdotal article entitled, “I wish I had slept.” After hearing that story I laid down. Contractions spaced out to 15 and then 45 minutes apart and became rather uncomfortable, but at least I rested in between.

The sun came up on Tuesday the 8th and we did not have a son. Last night was not the night. Darren’s mom dreamt that we had our baby on the 8th, which I took as a good omen. As a mater of fact, maybe our baby will be born during the day; I had always though of babies being born in the middle of the night, at all sorts of inconvenient hours. Contractions were 5 to 8 minutes apart and much more intense on Tuesday and I could not casually “multi-task” at my computer any more.  I finally let my co-workers know I was in labor and assured them the taxes were done and would be dropped off in a couple days. Darren and I went on a walk, though I was much more hesitant to do so than the day before since my contractions stopped me in my tracks and I liked sitting during them. The walk was filled with calculations of whether we could walk from one park bench to another before my next contraction; generally we didn’t make it and I would hang off of Darren, using one of the supported relaxation stances from our Bradley class. In the early afternoon, the midwives told me to take a bath (a laughable suggestion given our tub was too small to lay down in, too shallow, and on the third floor of the apartment with less than desirable water pressure). Darren heated water on the stove while the bath filled and I eventually soaked in the tub, dozed a little, and was please by how much the water elevated the pressure. The bath did not slow my contractions, but rather helped them intensify. In the late afternoon Darren threw together some dinner figuring it’d be my last real food. Sure enough, after eating, around 6:00 pm, my contractions really intensified. I found a sitting position to be most comfortable with my head leaning on Darren’s side or arm. At one point Darren suggested I try my hands and knees or leaning on our couch; though this was my preferred practice position, it was excruciatingly painful in reality.  I was in tears and he helped me back to my sitting position. As the evening went on, my contractions spaced out again to 6-10 minutes apart despite their intensity. Around 10:00 pm I had a mini-melt down, dreading another night in bed in labor; I just wanted to have this baby already! Then at 10:30 my contractions became much closer together, around 2 to 3 minutes apart. At 11:30 we called the midwives again, but Kathy wasn’t suggesting we come in immediately. Darren started getting our toothbrushes and other items that weren’t already packed together. However, every time he walked away to get something, I’d call him right back so as to be able to lean on him through another contraction.

Things were about as intense as I thought I could handle by midnight, so I called the midwives back and said I was ready to come in. Piece by piece Darren got the suitcase, the pillows, and me down the stairs, out the doors, down more stairs, and into the car. I apparently made him drive about 15 mph and had him stop for several of my contractions. At normal speeds the hospital is a 7 minute drive, but it took us nearly 30 minutes. Given that we were arriving at nearly 1:00 am all of the parking garage entrances were closed – something we had not anticipated. We pulled into the emergency area to ask where to park and the security guard wanted to take me up to labor and delivery in a wheel chair while Darren parked. I didn’t want to have anything to do with that – I was sticking with my husband.  So we drove away together to find the garage. We had to call twice more to actually get the directions right. Once we were finally parked we waddled along to the elevator, across the cat walk, down the corridor, and up another elevator, leaning against the wall when I needed to and refusing wheel chairs each time someone offered me one (in hind sight I have no idea why I did that). Despite having completed paperwork ahead of time it took 10 minutes to check me in. I signed a few forms with my eyes mostly closed (I have no idea what I consented to during those moments), they attached my wrist band (with my name misspelled), and told me I got the last room of the night (causing a mild panic – what if we’d been later?).

Once we were in the labor and delivery room a nurse who does not normally work with the midwives told me to get in the hospital gown and prepared an IV, neither of which was in my birth plan. Either deciding to pick my battles or simply relenting, I put on the hospital gown, but refused the hep-lock. Eventually a different nurse came in and set up all the monitors, another thing I was less than excited about. It seemed like forever before I actually saw the midwife (it turns out they had a record number of midwife assisted births on the floor that night and had to call in back-up). Kathy, our first midwife, said I was 5-6 centimeters dilated and the nurse exclaimed that I must have been doing some serious work at home. She also told us our baby was posterior, which may have explained the intense back pressure. After 30 minutes with the fetal heart rate monitor attached (a requirement for the midwives’ insurance or something to that effect), I took a long, hot shower (we were planning on using one of the two tubs, but those rooms were taken). Then I labored sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning my face on Darren’s arm, and having him rub my low back. My contractions were basically back to back – Darren couldn’t even take two steps to get the juice boxes. Once in a while Kathy would stop by, but we were mostly on our own, way more on our own than I had anticipated. I am so thankful that Darren was as knowledgeable as he was, knowing to help me relax, feeding me bits of honey and water when he could get me to take it. At one point though, I nearly screamed, “Where’s Kathy?!!” I wanted her to measure my progress and press on my back and reassure me that all of this laboring was doing something. In between one of the contractions I managed to say to Darren, “This is the one at a time part.” I am surprised to this day that that is what came out of my mouth because I was really thinking, “Can I do this?”

A few minutes later, around 5:00 am, Julie, our second midwife, walked in. She was still in her street clothes, but measured me anyway; I was 8 centimeters dilated and there was just a tiny lip left of the cervix. I was relieved. She suggested I move into a supported forward leaning position; She propped up the head of the bed, added a couple pillows and asked me to try getting on my knees and leaning into it. It took a lot of work for her and Darren to convince me to get on my hands and knees again because of the painful experience I’d had at home in that position. Once I got in that position I found it was alright. Julie told me to use my low voice and to slide my upper body down the bed if it felt good to do so during contractions. She went and changed. When she got back she asked if I felt like pushing. I did not, however contractions had spaced out some and they were much less painful and kind of felt good. She suggested pushing and took over as the active coach while Darren fed me ice chips, juice, and honey. Just as Julie was getting ready to break my bag of waters, it finally broke. She had me switch to my back at some point. I would rest until a contraction came on at which point they would help raise my legs and I would push. This is the least intuitive way of birthing, but I was tired and glad to go with her suggestions. When the baby’s head was crowning, she took my hand so I could touch his head. When I pushed his head out everyone told me to keep pushing, even though I didn’t feel like it, and out came the rest of our baby boy at 6:39 am on Wednesday, January 9th! I wish I had waited for the next contraction and just lived in that moment for a little longer, but I got my baby. Noah was nice and pink and laid on my chest for a few minutes while Julie applied pressure to the cord and guided my placenta out.

Then Julie told me I was bleeding more than usual so Darren cut the cord and the nurses examined Noah in the room. Meanwhile Julie massaged my stomach area, trying to get my uterus to contract. Then she called on the nurses to give me a pitocin drip and a shot of something with an M in the leg. I was impressed how respected our midwife was in the hospital setting; she was in total control, giving orders, and managing our minor emergency. Once the bleeding was under control she stitched my tears up and gave me Noah back and helped my faint husband off the floor where he laid down after seeing all the blood.

Noah was a very healthy 8 lbs 13 oz and 21 inches long at birth. His APGAR scores were both 9 and he was very contented. During my labor his heart rate stayed very strong throughout, impressing even the midwives. He also kicked his way through the contractions!

We were moved into a recovery room after an hour or so. We were bothered at least every hour day and night and ended up very annoyed at the hospital for all the interruptions combined with their inability to remember to bring me meals. At 8:00 am on Thursday we asked to be discharged. Well it took until 4:30 pm for them to process the papers for both Noah and me. Thankfully we rested in relative peace that night at home! My parents came on Friday to help with cooking and such which was absolutely perfect; I went from not being able to fathom childbirth without my dad present to being thankful it was an intimate experience shared just by Darren and me.

In summary, going to a midwife practice where they only delivered at the hospital was good for our first birthing experience – we got the non-pushy care of the midwives combined with the “what if” security blanket the hospital provided. Having had the experience we had, I would choose to go to a birthing center or have a home birth in the future because we did not have the undivided attention of the midwife who was attending multiple births on the floor and the postpartum disturbances at the hospital were nearly unbearable.