a little painting for Hilary
I know I already posted about Felix's birth, so you already know the logistics. But the story, my story, still feels a bit unfinished. So here I am.
I have received so many comments about having a homebirth. Most are/were supportive, encouraging, perhaps tinged with a bit of "you must be crazy!" but mostly kind words. Then some are completely unexpected for me. The ones inquiring if I had proper prenatal care, implying I may as well be living in the the dark ages. So I'm here, feeling the need to say a bit more, explain more thoroughly, and lets be honest, gush a bit.
My baby journey started at a run of the mill OB. Like most, when I found out I was pregnant for the first time, we called insurance, found out where we were covered and where the closest office was. I went to my first appointment. 8 weeks along I got an ultrasound to find the baby's (Ainsley's!) heartbeat. We waited for over an hour past our appointment time in the lobby. Once we were seen the doctor was kind enough, but one of EIGHT that may or may not have been present at the birth of our child. The whole thing just felt so bizarre, so clinical, so WRONG and unfitting when compared to the joy and elation that I felt with being pregnant and bringing our baby into the world.
So we revamped. I called the local midwife group and made and appointment. After my first visit I was hooked. Midwives advocating for the medical free birth that I wanted in a safe hospital environment, waterbirth possible...sign me up!
Then of course the whole ordeal with Louise happened and well, it took me two good years to get over it enough to face another pregnancy with any sort of optimism. Once I became pregnant for the third time I was ready for something different, something better.
Part of what made the decision to switch to a homebirth so easy was that one of the midwives from the practice that I had first used left to do homebirths. I called, made an appointment with Ian to talk it out and after a mere 20 minutes with Hilary we both knew this was the route for us. Ian was worried about the logistics, the what ifs. Hilary reassured him without a doubt that we would get the help we needed, should we need it.
So we (I!) charged ahead. I went to my monthly checkups, just like normal. Always had my blood pressure checked and my urine sampled for protein and high glucose. I did the gestational diabetes test and got the 20 week ultrasound. My prenatal care was totally standard, save for the simple calm environment of the "office" where I never had to wait more than 5 minutes and when I was waiting it was on a plush couch with filtered water or tea and a luna bar in hand. It was rather glorious.
And then? the birth. I could not have imagined it going better. This being my third and the girls having been born relatively quickly the midwives hurried on over as soon as I knew I was in labor.
I am a person who gets very nervous when I'm the center of attention. The thing I hate most about labor is that all eyes are on me. I feel like I'm performing, like I'm being tested. I absolutely hate it.
But the midwives? they got it. Hilary actually said to me a few times "you're not on display here, you're not a watched pot." They allowed me to do whatever I needed. In my case, walk around the neighborhood a million times. They'd just remind me to come back every half hour so they could check the baby's heart rate and my blood pressure. At one point I actually remember picking up the basement in between contractions (my sorry attempt to tidy a bit before my mom was coming to stay there for 2+ weeks). Annie, the nurse midwife in training just silent walked up to me, lifted my shirt to hear to baby, gave me a silent smile and headed on back up. They could tell I needed some space and they gave it to me.
oh my goodness what a horrible photo...Ian insisted on taking one of me, mid walk, mid contraction...does my smile look pained? because it sure is.
Then it was tub time. My water hadn't broken yet so I was still in a very manageable pain stage. I got in the tub and after Hilary broke my water we were still in jovial conversation mode. Then transition hit and the mood instantly changed. I shut my eyes and after that didn't hear one peep from anyone except for calm encouraging words during the contractions. They let me have my brief rests in absolute silence. Ian later told me of the motions Hilary made to him, things I never knew about because she, they all, were so careful to keep the room a peaceful place.
I didn't realize until that moment, ok, right after Felix was born, how THAT right there, was the biggest, and best, thing about homebirth. They were all there for me and that baby, not on a shift, not on a timetable, no one running in and out of the room, coming and going. I truly felt like I had this team behind me. At the moment of his birth, everyone was touching me. Ian's hand in mine, my head on his arm, Hilary's on Felix, Rachel at one knee, Annie at my left shoulder. Perhaps for the fist time, I never felt panic or worry because I knew they were all there and if I lacked confidence in myself I knew they all had it in me.
So he was born, and it was glorious. And then? I get lots of questions about what happens next. Well, I got up and in the bed. They checked me and the baby (while I'm holding my baby of course). I nursed my baby, they wait for me to give the go ahead for the newborn check (I decided about an hour and a half after my sweet boy was born was good). They do all the clean up while I'm loving on my baby. The tub makes clean up SO much easier. They drain it, they throw away the liner. There's a big old black garbage bag in the room for anything else. Easy peasy (well, for me!). After I was up and about I found a sitz bath all brewed and waiting for me in the fridge and extra ice packs in the freezer. It was like having 3 extra moms around for a day. Amazing. They all left when they knew the baby and I were stable, about 3 hours after his birth. Two days after his birth the nurse midwives came back to give Felix his heel prick and to check on us both. Two weeks later Annie came back for my two week postpartum check, yes that's right, TO MY HOUSE. At 6 weeks I go back for my last office visit. When I go I'm bringing Hilary a bead (she collects one for each baby she's helped birth, she has thousands) and the painting you see above and below. She commented many times on my "beautiful artwork" in our home. I was inspired for the first time in a long while to pull out the water colors and brush up a bit. It felt like such an appropriate but small token, considering all they gave me.
Because yes I've had two baby's before, but still, felt a bit inept, like I hadn't done it quite right, like I'd done something wrong. In my case? It was the system that was letting me down, the "high risk" labels and the extra worry and tests. From start to finish I knew what I needed for this baby and they trusted me and didn't read into any of the small stuff. I cannot put into words what it means to me to have had this experience. For a person who has spent the better part of their life suffering from crazy anxiety and worry and self doubt, they helped to give me an experience that will empower me for the rest of my life.
Perhaps the biggest testament to how wonderful this homebirth was for us, is the gushing that Ian's done. He's the first to tell anyone how great it was. So wonderful to get to be in our own environment, in control of so much. How especially great to be here right after. Let the girls meets their new sibling in their own comfortable home. I won't say I told you so Ian, but, well, you know.
I told Ian shortly after the birth that we may be in trouble. We plan on Felix being the last addition to our family, but I was banking on another tough pregnancy and birth to seal the deal. Now he may have to convince me in a few years that we are indeed done, because my goodness, I can't imagine a more perfect way to bring a baby into the world. I almost want to do it all over again.
