Birth Pause…

What was the moment like immediately following the birth of your baby?

Was the baby placed directly onto your chest by a caregiver? Was she pushed into your own waiting hands and gathered to your body? Was he put first into a warmer and then onto your chest? Did a midwife pass him to you after gently receiving him? Did you glimpse her body as she was held over a blue cloth in the operating room? Did you see her whole body, or just the top of her head as she rested upon you? Did she emerge onto a soft landing where you could gaze at her for a moment, integrating the transition from giving birth to mothering, and then scoop her up into your waiting arms? No matter how it unfolded, I’m sure it was unforgettable.

Waiting to inhale…

I greatly enjoyed reading a beautiful guest editorial in The Journal of Perinatal Education by Mary Esther Malloy, called “Waiting to Inhale: How to Unhurry the Moment of Birth,” in which she explores this precious post-birth moment. This moment when mother meets baby, earthside. Malloy notes that for many women, the moment of meeting is “hurried” by the immediate placement of the baby on mother’s chest. Many women are in a brief, transitional state almost like “birthshock” at this moment—it is the moment before the classic euphoria and “I did it!” hits. Mother often has her eyes closed and needs a second to breathe and re-focus on the world outside her deeply inner focus. Malloy began to observe at births that if baby was allowed to emerge gently onto the softness beneath the mother, the mother is able to take a brief pause to integrate the shift from birthing to mothering and then begins to gently explore baby’s body on her own time, her own terms, before gathering it into her arms and to her breast. This occurs in the space of only moments, but they are unhurried, timeless, liminal moments. She notes: “…just as we are now appreciating what occurs when we respect a baby’s ability to find its mother at birth, what I am seeing [with mothers] is heightening my respect for an understanding of our own abilities as women to find our babies at birth.” She suggests that this natural pause marks a center point of a sequence that transforms woman to mother; that finding our babies ourselves brings us forward into a new state of being physically, emotionally, psychologically, and mentally. Malloy refers to this transition point as a moment to inhale—to “exhale” the experience of giving birth and to “inhale” the sight of the new baby and the beginning of a new phase of life.

Malloy does make sure to mention that the moment of birth is “just fine” and “unforgettable” without this “birth pause” and that mother’s chest is most definitely baby’s intended destination, but that she is starting to acknowledge that having her own babies delivered straight to her chest, “feels a lot like an intervention to me. If intervention feels like too strong a word, at least, it now seems like an interruption to what I might have done if no one told me what to do.” She concludes with some thoughts regarding her own upcoming birth:

Exhale and then inhale. Exhale the magnitude of the experience of birth and then inhale the unfolding moments in which I am receiving this child. Life is not one big inhale, one big gulping in of experience. It is the symmetry of exhale and inhale. Just as we breathe this rhythm through our labors, present to one contraction at a time, we can also breathe through our transition to motherhood, finding that moment between states and passing through as slowly as we need…

Personal experiences with the birth pause

Since I recently wrote about two other “stages” of the birth process that are not widely acknowledged, the rest and be thankful stage and the spontaneous birth reflex, I knew immediately upon reading this editorial that I wanted to explore the birth pause as well. I am curious to know of others’ experiences with it or reflections upon it. I think back to my own immediate post-birth moments with my babies. My first baby was born and immediately placed onto my chest. I remember feeling disoriented, unreal, and dazed almost. It was sort of surreal. He was crying, I touched his back, and then asked him if he wanted “nursies.” It was very spontaneous and gentle and natural feeling, though taking a step back I see that there was not much time for that inhale moment.

When my second son was born, I was on my hands and knees and the midwife passed him through my legs to me as I turned over. When my daughter was born, I pushed her out into my own hands in a kneeling position. What struck me upon reading the editorial was how after my second son’s birth and after the birth of my daughter, though I was holding them, I did not immediately put them up to my chest. I held them low, against my body, near the tops of my thighs. I think my eyes were closed both times, head tilted back and then tipped forward. Then, I looked down at them, explored them briefly, and then gathered them up in my arms and to my breast. Neither was born onto the surface in front of or behind me, but neither was placed immediately on my chest either. My daughter’s birth was the most undisturbed and instinctual, and I distinctly remember looking down at her as I held her low against my body, and then making the decision to lift her higher and into my arms against my breast. With my son, I felt like his umbilical cord was short and that I actually couldn’t lift him higher without tugging it uncomfortably (it wasn’t actually short though and I’m still unclear what this sensation was exactly).

I immediately thought of post-birth pictures of each baby, in this birth pause time:

Immediately after first baby's birth--straight to chest. Main view is of top of his head. Hands tentatively touch/explore.

Immediately after second son's birth. Notice how he's held low down and kind of only with one hand. My eyes are closed and I'm not looking at him yet. In pictures shortly after, I'm looking at him and smiling and I've moved him up to my breast.
(Didn't feel totally comfortable with full breasts shot on my blog, though feel bad to conform to social expectations of appropriateness!)

Immediately after last baby's birth. I know it is dark/hard to see, but note how I'm holding her kind of low down and actually kind of out/away from me (to look at) rather than against my chest.

I actually feel like I see in all of these pictures that birth pause to exhale the birth and then inhale the baby and the mothering of it.

What about you? What was the moment like following the birth of your baby? Did you take a brief pause, a moment to exhale and then inhale? I’d love to hear about it!

Book Review: Homebirth in the Hospital

Aug31

Homebirth in the Hospital
by Stacey Marie Kerr, MD
Sentient Publications, 2008
Softcover, 212 pages
ISBN: 978-1-59181-077-3
www.homebirthinthehospital.com

Reviewed by Molly Remer, MSW, ICCE, https://talkbirth.wordpress.com

I would venture to say that most midwifery activists and birth professionals have said at some point, “what she wants is a homebirth in the hospital…” This comment is accompanied with a knowing look, a bit of head shaking, and an unspoken continuation of the thought, “…and we all know that’s not going to happen.”

Well, what if it is possible? A new book by Dr. Stacey Kerr, Homebirth in the Hospital, asserts that it is. She was originally trained at The Farm in TN (home of legendary midwife Ina May Gaskin) and after going to medical school realized that she, “…needed to balance my new knowledge with my old priorities. I missed the feeling of normal birth, the trust that the birthing process would occur without technology, and the time-tested techniques that help women birth naturally. And so it was that I went back to midwives to find the balance.”
If you are a dedicated homebirth advocate, I recommend reading Homebirth in the Hospital with an open mind—clear out any cobwebs and assumptions about doctors, hospitals, and birth and read the book for what it is: an attempt to create a new model of hospital birth. What Dr. Kerr proposes in her book is a model of “integrative childbirth”—the emotional care and support of home, while nestled into the technology of a hospital.

The opening chapter explores the concept of integrative childbirth and “the 5 C’s” of a successful integrative birth: choices, communication, continuity of care, confidence, and control of protocols (“protocols are the most disempowering aspect of modern maternity care…”).

This section is followed by fifteen different birth stories, beginning with the author’s own (at a Missouri birthing center—my own first baby was born in a birth center in Missouri, so I felt a kinship there).

The births are not all happy and “perfect,” not all intervention-free, and most are quite a bit more “managed” and interfered with than a lot of homebirthers prefer (one is a cesarean, several involve epidurals or medications). I, personally, would never freely choose a “homebirth in a hospital” (I also confess to retaining a deep-seated opinion that this phrase is an oxymoron!). However, that is not the point. Over 90% of women do give birth in a hospital attended by a physician and I appreciate the exploration of a new model within the constraints and philosophy of the hospital.

The book closes with a chapter called “how to be an integrative childbirth provider.” The book has no resources section and no index.

I certainly hope that doctors read this book. I am also glad it is available for women who feel like homebirth is not an option or not available and would like to explore an integrative approach. Even though my opinion is that none of the births are really “homebirths in the hospital” as most bear little resemblance to the homebirths I know and love, unlike the content of the standard hospital birth story, they are deeply respectful births in the hospital and that’s the issue truly at the heart of this book.

—-

Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book for review purposes.

Book Review: In Search of the Perfect Birth

Jul28

Book Review: In Search of the Perfect Birth
By Elizabeth McKeown, 2011
186 pages, paperback.
ISBN-13: 978-0615481708
http://www.theperfectbirth.com/

Reviewed by Molly Remer

Written by a mother of three, In Search of the Perfect Birth is an unassisted childbirth manifesto. It chronicles the author’s journey through the births of her children—the first born in the hospital, the second a planned homebirth ending in hospital transport, and the third an unassisted birth. Elizabeth is strongly convicted that unassisted birth is the right choice for most women, though I feel she is also fairly respectful that other women’s experiences may or may not lead them to the same conclusion. This book is not a do-it-yourself guide to UC, but is an exploration of one woman’s experiences in healing from birth trauma and taking full responsibility for the birth of her next child. I was fascinated by her conclusions that her own birth trauma wasn’t healed through unassisted birth itself, but through the decision to take charge of her own birth care.

The book is pretty rough around the edges and could use some more editing and polishing. There is a stream-of-consciousness feel to the writing style that can be a little confusing and disjointed.

The author makes some excellent points with regard to the restrictions that can be placed on women’s birth freedoms by midwives also, noting wryly that if you choose the “middle ground” you may well end up with all the downsides of being told what to do with your own body, but “without the opiates that make it bearable!” Elizabeth’s homebirth turned hospital transport experience was pretty horrific and it was difficult to read about. She also writes with candor about the degree and intensity of pain she experienced during all of her births (including the UC).

In Search of the Perfect Birth will be of particular interest to women who already support unassisted birth and to women who have experienced birth trauma and are seeking resolution in future natural childbirths. It is an honest and heartfelt story.

—

Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book for review purposes.

Alaina’s Complete Birth Story

Jun1

It has taken me a long time to finish typing up Alaina’s birth story. I wrote it in my journal at 3 days postpartum and the following is almost verbatim. I’ve gone back and forth about what to include and decided to just include everything, as originally written. I feel critical of the story somehow, like it is “choppy.” I used interestingly short, jumpy sentences and while part of me want to smooth it out, another part of me feels like it is more authentic in this format. I also feel like I “should” be posting it on a more significant date—i.e. her six month birthday, or something. But, it is finished now, so I feel like sharing now! Additionally, I thought about taking the self-analysis section about the use of a hypnosis for birth program out of the story, but, indeed, this was the FIRST thing I wrote in my journal, so it seems like it “deserves” to be included as well. It obviously was one of the most important details for me to write about. However, for the purposes of clarity, I moved it to the end of the story in this version. Likewise, I thought about making the section about my newborn- love into a separate post, but because those feelings are so intimately entwined with her birth and because, in my journal, that is exactly the chronology I used—first hypnosis criticism, second birth chronology, third baby love–it feels like it all belongs together in one story. It is funny how that first story has such value to me and that it feels almost wrong to edit, change, or add anything to it. It feels most honest this way.

The Birth of Alaina Diana Remer
January 19, 2011
11:15 a.m.
7lbs, 8oz; 20 inches.
Short version of her story is here and labor pictures are here.

I had a restless, up and down night, getting up at 3:00 a.m. and even checked in with my online class. Mark got up with me and we talked and speculated. Waves were four minutes apart and then kind of dissipated unenthusiastically away. He went back to bed at 4:00 and I listened to Hypnobabies. At 6:00, I was feeling trapped lying down and got up. Mark got up then too and worked in the kitchen on the dishes and things like that, while I walked around and leaned on the half wall during contractions (a lot. It was the perfect height). Sitting down in a chair caused horribleness, leaning forward on the ½ wall was good. Called Mom and told her to be on standby and to notify my blessingway crew. Also, called Summer (doula/friend) to be on alert. Felt serious, but not totally. Also was having back involvement which each wave. I felt like I would have a real contraction and then a closely following, but milder, back-only contraction (no tightness in uterus really during these, but definitely a wave-like progression and then ease of sensation).

I was very quiet during most waves until the end. I think because I was doing the Hypnobabies and was concentrating on that. Then, I would talk and analyze and be very normal in between. This pattern seemed to lead to a decreased perception of seriousness from others of my need for attention—Mark washed dishes, went outside to take care of chickens, work on fire, feed cats and so forth. The boys woke up at 7:00 a.m. and as soon as they came out and started talking to me (Mark was outside), I knew they needed to go elsewhere. We called my mom at 7:30ish and she came to get them. I did not want to feel watched or observed at all, so asked her to wait to come back.

I kept waiting for the “action” to increase and feeling distressed that it was taking such a “long” time. I suggested to the baby that she come out by 10:00. I continued to stand in the kitchen and lean on the ½ wall, sometimes the table or the bathroom counter. Dismayed to see no blood/mucous, nothing indicating any “progress.” Significant feelings of pressure and pain in lower back continued and at the time felt normal to me, but looking back seems like an extra dose of back involvement. In another intensity-increasing experience, the baby moved during contractions for the entire labor until the contraction before I pushed her out. She moved, wiggled and pushed out with her bottom and body during each contraction, which really added a new layer of intensity that was difficult. I was, however, glad she was moving because then I knew she was okay, without doing any heart checks.

I went into the living room, very tired from bad sleep during the night. We set up the birth ball in the living room so I could sit on it and drape over pillows piled onto the couch. I spent a long time like this. Mark sat close and would lightly and perfectly stroke my back. Continued to use Hypnobabies—finger-drop, peace and release, with most waves.

Mark fixed me chlorophyll to drink and I barfed it up immediately and horribly. Called Mom to come back and 9:00 or so, at which point I finally had a little blood in my underwear. Kept up my ball by the couch routine and moved into humming with each wave. Also did some contractions on the floor leaning over the ball. Also good.

On the ball, I began to feel some rectal pressure with each wave. However, I felt like the waves were erratic still, with some very long and intense and then smaller ones. Hums began to become oooohs and aaaaahs and I began to feel like there was a bit of an umph at the end of the oooooh. Went back to the bathroom and there was quite a bit more blood (plus mucous string) and I started to fret about placental abruptions and so forth. Left the bathroom analyzing how much blood is too much blood and began to critique myself for being too “in my head” and analytical and not letting my “monkey do it.” Said I still didn’t feel like I was in “birth brain” and wondered if that meant I still had a long time to go. Started to feel concerned that I was still early on. This is a common feature of all of my births and is how the self-doubt signpost manifests for me. Rather than thinking I can’t do it, I start thinking I’m two centimeters dilated.

I almost immediately returned to the bathroom feeling like I needed to poop. Serious contractions on toilet produced more pressure with associated umphs at the end. At some point in the bathroom, I said, “I think this is pushing.” I was feeling desperate for my water to break. It felt like it was in the way and holding things up. I reached my hand down and thought I felt squooshy sac-ish feeling, but Mom and Mark looked and could not see anything. And, it still didn’t break. Mom mentioned that I should probably go to my birth nest in order to avoid having the baby on the toilet. My birth nest was a futon stack near the bathroom door. I got down on hands and knees after feeling like I might not make it all the way to the futons. Felt like I wanted to kneel on hard floor before reaching the nest.

Suddenly became obsessed with checking her heartbeat. I knew you’re supposed to do so during pushing and I had stopped feeling her moving painfully with each contraction. I couldn’t find her heartbeat and started to feel a little panicky about that as well as really uncomfortable and then threw the Doppler to the side saying, “forget it!” because big pushing was coming. I was down on hands and knees and then moved partially up on one hand in order to put my other hand down to feel what was happening. Could feel squishiness and water finally broke (not much, just a small trickle before her head). I could feel her head with my fingers and began to feel familiar sensation of front-burning. I said, “stretchy, stretchy, stretchy, stretchy,” the phone rang, her head pushed and pushed itself down as I continued to support myself with my hand and I moved up onto my knees, with them spread apart so I was almost sitting on my heels and her whole body and a whole bunch of fluid blooshed out into my hands. She was pink and warm and slippery and crying instantly—quite a lot of crying, actually. I said, “you’re alive, you’re alive! I did it! There’s nothing wrong with me!” and I kissed her and cried and laughed and was amazed. I felt an intense feeling of relief. Of survival. I didn’t realize until some moments later than both Mark and Mom missed the actual moment of her birth. Mark because he was coming around from behind me to the front of me when I moved up to kneeling. My mom because she went to stop the phone from ringing. I had felt like the pushing went on for a “long” time, but Mark said that from hands and knees to kneeling with baby in my hands was about 12 seconds. I don’t know. Inner experience is different than outer observation. What I do know is that the moment of catching my own daughter in my hands and bringing her warm, fresh body up into my arms was the most powerful and potent moment of my life.

I was covered in blood again. Caked in my fingernails and toenails and on the bottoms of my feet again. And, I did tear again, same places.

I feel the moment of her birth was an authentic “fetal ejection reflex” including the forward movement of my hips. The immediate postpartum went exactly as I had planned. Summer arrived approximately 20 minutes after Alaina was born. She brought me snacks, wiped blood off of me, and served me a tiny bit of placenta (which I swallowed with no problem!). My midwife arrived approximately 40 minutes post-birth and assessed blood loss and helped with placenta. She said I lost about 3 cups of blood, but I think all of the fluid that came out with the baby, plus the blood from the tears, may have bumped the estimate up too high. I did not feel weak or tired like I’d lost too much blood, I felt energetic and really good, actually. I didn’t get faint in the bathroom either and my color stayed good throughout. “Don’t look down” (while using the bathroom) is an excellent plan for me!

My post-birth feelings were different this time. I feel more baby-centered in my feelings about it rather than self-empowerment centered. I also feel more critical in my own self assessment this time—like I didn’t “perform” well or handle myself well. I hypothesize that this may be related to using a hypnosis for birth program, because I didn’t feel “calm and comfortable” on the inside. On the outside I think I looked it, but my internal experience involved more “should” than I like. The hypnosis philosophy wasn’t really a match with my own lived experience of birth. Birth isn’t calm, quiet, and comfortable and I don’t actually think it should be or that I want it to be. However, I was trying to make it so and thus not using some of my own internal resources. I felt more mind/body disconnect than I have before also, perhaps because I was trying to use a mind (“control”) based method on such an embodied process. Anyway, it was good for relaxing during pregnancy, personally not so good for behaving instinctually in labor. I did use it though and technically I guess it “worked” because Mom and Mark couldn’t read where I was in birthing and though I was very calm. It didn’t feel calm inside though, it felt HARD. I also was very stuck—almost in a competitive-feeling way—on thinking it was going to be fast and feeling stressed/concerned that it wasn’t.

I also want to include this segment from my journal, written when she was three days old:

She is so wonderful and amazing and beautiful and perfect and I just want to etch these days into my mind forever and never forget a single, precious, beautiful, irreplaceable moment. I want to write everything down to try to preserve each second of these first few days with baby Alaina—my treasure, my BABY! The one I hoped for and feared for and worked SO HARD to bring to this world (in pregnancy more so than in birth). I can’t really though—I am here, now. Living this, feeling this, knowing this. The newborn haze is my reality in these moments, but it will pass away and the best thing to do is to fully live it. To feel it and to be here—without struggling to preserve it all. It is here in my heart and soul and preserved in the eddies and ripples of time. The unfolding, continuous ribbon of life and experiences. I have a weird, petrified feeling of forgetting—i.e. when I’m 89 will I still remember how this FELT?!

What do I want to remember?

Alaina newborn photo (c) Sincerely Yours Photography

The scrunchy feel of a newborn’s body.
The little mewing squeaks and sighs
How she is comforted by my voice and turns to me with a smacky, nursie face…
The soft, soft skin
The soft, soft hair
The fuzzy ears and arms
The little legs that pull up into reflexive, fetal position.
The utter, utter, MARVEL that I grew her and that she’s here. That she came from me. That sense of magic and wonder and disbelief when I look over and see her lying next to me—how did YOU get here?!
The miraculous transition from belly to baby. From pregnant woman to motherbaby unit? How does it happen? It is indescribably awesome.

The sleeping profile
The scrunchy face
The “wheeling” half coordinated movements of arms and legs—sort of “swimming” in air.
The peace of snuggling her against my chest and neck.
The tiny, skinny feet.
Putting my hand on her back and feeling her breathe, just like in utero

I was still scared she was going to die until the moment I held her.

Molly & Alaina newborn photo (c) Sincerely Yours Photography

The Spot

Apr30

“Can I ask you a personal question?” asks the woman on the phone. She is calling to inquire about my birth classes and the subject of homebirth has come up.

“Sure!”

“What about the mess?”

At first I give the standard answer. That birth isn’t so terribly messy, that you can put down towels and chux pads, that the midwife often does the cleanup. I pause a moment. This prospective client and I have an instant connection and excellent rapport. I add, “Actually, I left a huge blood spot on our living room carpet.” I add that the spot came out almost completely with peroxide, but can’t stop myself from also remarking, “I actually feel kind of proud of it—it felt like a symbol to me.” I find myself laughing a little and there is an unmistakable note of triumph in my voice.

“Of what?”

“That I did it. Gave birth in my own home, in my own living room, on my own terms, under my own power, in my own way. In the way that felt best and right and safest to me. On my own. Me. I did it.”

What I did not add—what would have been pushing it just a little too far—is that when we moved the peroxide-cleaned carpet square into our new home a large, round, rusty-red stain was revealed on the concrete floor beneath. And, that I take secret delight in its presence. I am proud that I left my mark on the floor that bore witness to my labor. I delight and actually revel in the reminder of my power that the stain represents. Is this total weirdness? Or freakishness? A type of maternal masochism or even a perversion? No, I decide. It is really not so different from keeping a football trophy from high school or an award for volunteerism in human services from college. Maybe there is a medal for natural childbirth after all—arriving in different surprising guises, one kind a blotchy reddish stain on a concrete floor.

Despite our easy camaraderie, I never hear from that prospective client again.

Those who critique the zealousness of birth activists sometimes accuse us of supporting an insidious “Cult of Natural Childbirth” and assert that we undermine women and their unique and often traumatic experiences by “insisting” that birth be an empowering and triumphant event for women.

Maybe there actually is a Cult of Natural Childbirth and I am an acolyte of Birth cackling with wild glee as I caper around my bloodstained floor….

Nursing my brand new baby boy! (2006)

———

In the original article, I included a post-birth picture from my second son’s birth that showed one completely exposed breast. I must have still been hopped up on the post-birth euphoria when I sent it, because after it was actually published I felt slightly horrified to have my boob in print and didn’t feel like I could show the article to my dad (or, really, to many other people!) If you look closely at the picture I substituted in this blog post, you can see there is blood streaked all over my chest, arms, and hands. It was a very bloody birth!

—————————————————————————————————————–

This is a preprint of The Spot, an essay by Molly Remer, MSW, ICCE, published in Midwifery Today, Issue 86, Summer 2008. Copyright © 2008 Midwifery Today. Midwifery Today’s website is located at: http://www.midwiferytoday.com/

The “Almost Died…” Remark

Apr29

Anyone who has planned a homebirth has probably heard the, “If I’d had my baby at home, I would have died” remark more times than they can count. It seems to be almost a default response to mentions of homebirth. I used to have a pet peeve about this, because I was almost certain that most of time the people saying it had been nowhere close to death! It seemed like an overly dramatic, overreaction to a normal life process, etc., etc. And, also that we’ve been so brainwashed by the media into thinking birth is this life or death emergency that that filter then artificially colors our perceptions of events and dramatically affects our social lexicon of birth. (However, I also have the companion thought that in many countries, birth does remain a life or death experience for women and babies. Maternal and infant mortality are significant issues and are not subjects to be taken lightly. And, mothers and babies in the U.S. do, in fact, die sometimes. It isn’t just a third-world country thing!) Another statement that used to confuse me was when birth writers say things about giving birth bringing you to the, “edge between life and death.” This didn’t match my own to-that-date birth experiences, which had not ever involved feeling like dying.

So, these things said, it has been very, very difficult for me to write about my own feelings of being close to death following the miscarriage-birth of my third son in November 2009. I really, truly felt like I might be going to die after he was born. I have never felt that close before, but I reached that “edge” after him, and I had the visceral experience of the veil between life and death being very, very thin. And, the feeling did not occur in a scary way, but in a resigned, “oh, so this is how it is going to end, too bad I still had so much I want to do with my life!” kind of way. I felt okay with it actually. A type of acceptance that my time was over. Since everything turned out okay in the end, I haven’t had much reason to process that feeling, but it was very, very intense. And, actually it was also life-changing in several areas of my life, including in terms of my spirituality (I semi-joke that my miscarriage-birth was a “religious experience” for me, but truly, in a way it was). However, I can hardly manage to write about it. And, looking back, I remain amazed that it was humanly possible to bleed as much as I did, especially because at that point early in a second trimester pregnancy I didn’t have the whole 50% increase in blood volume that you have by full-term!

I think I don’t talk much about my own “almost died” experience because obviously, in hindsight, I wasn’t almost dying (since I didn’t), I just felt like I was going to. But, this is the key…the fact that I wasn’t truly dying doesn’t mean that I didn’t truly feel as if I was—and, genuinely so, not in just an irrational fear-planted-by-the-media way. This has given me new insight into the “almost died” remark that seems dished out so casually. I used to think it was primarily a risk-based/skewed/brainwashed attitude, rather than an emotional thing, but I have an understanding now that it more often probably represents how she felt (or perceived the situation) and that her feeling really matters. It was real. And, I now hear and honor that feeling (rather than secretly thinking “yeah, right!”), because the feeling was real. And, that means, to her, she really did “almost die.”

I’ve also come to realize that despite the many amazing and wonderful, profound and magical things about birth, the experience of giving birth is very likely to take some kind of toll on a woman—whether her body, mind, or emotions. There is usually some type of “price” to be paid for each and every birth and sometimes the price is very high. This is, I guess, what qualifies, birth as such an intense, initiatory rite for women. It is most definitely a transformative event and transformation does not usually come without some degree of challenge. Sometimes to be triumphed over or overcome, but something that also leaves permanent marks. Sometimes those marks are literal and sometimes they are emotional and sometimes they are truly beautiful, but we all earn some of them, somewhere along the line. And, I also think that by glossing over the marks, the figurative or literal scars birth can leave on us, and talking about only the “sunny side” we can deny or hide the full impact of our journeys.

During Pam England’s presentation about birth stories at the ICAN conference, she said that the place “where you were the most wounded—the place where the meat was chewed off your bones, becomes the seat of your most powerful medicine and the place where you can reach someone where no one else can.“

Book Review: Home/Birth: a poemic

Apr22

Book Review: Home/Birth: a poemic
By Arielle Greenberg and Rachel Zucker
1913 Press, 2011
ISBN 978-0-9779351-7-8
208 pages, softcover, $11

http://www.1913press.org

http://www.facebook.com/pages/HomeBirth-A-Poemic/

Reviewed by Molly Remer, MSW, ICCE, CCCE
https://talkbirth.wordpress.com

Co-authored by a pair of long-time friends, the “poemic” book Home/Birth reads as if you are eavesdropping on a lengthy, juicy, engaging, thought-provoking conversation about homebirth, birth in America, maternity care, and feminism. The book has a lyric, narrative, stream of consciousness format linked together with segments of poetry.

The text does not differentiate between the two speakers/writers, though through the “call and response,” back-and-forth exchange between the two authors, you quickly begin to recognize two distinct voices (as well as other fragments from birth books, bumper stickers, midwives, etc.).

The book was written during Arielle’s second pregnancy, which ends in the stillbirth of her baby boy. Arielle had one prior homebirth and one subsequent homebirth. Rachel had two hospital births and a homebirth prior to the writing of the book.

While the style in which it is written takes some time to get used to, once you tune in to its rhythm, Home/Birth is a unique and fascinating journey. Because it is so distinctive, I find it difficult to describe in writing—you need to make sure to read it for yourself!

—

Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book for review purposes.

My Baby Girl is Here!

Jan23

“A baby, a baby, she will come to remind us of the sweetness in this world, what ripe, fragile, sturdy beauty exists when you allow yourself the air, the sunshine, the reverence for what nature provides…”

– Sarah Werthan Buttenwieser (in Literary Mama)

Three generations!

Alaina Diana was born at 11:15 a.m. on January 19th, 2011! She only weighed 7lbs, 8oz and was 20 inches. (My other babies were 8lbs4oz and 9lbs, 2oz.) I’ve sent a short-version birth story to a couple of friends over the last couple of days and decided I could work it up into a short blog post as well (of course, a full-length birth story will eventually follow). I actually had a little trouble getting started in writing about her birth—it was pretty uneventful until the end and I felt like the best description would be: walked around the kitchen, sat on the birth ball, walked around a little more, more time on the ball, hummed and ooohhhhhed, seemed as if suddenly things changed and I felt big, big things happening and then baby was born all at once! And, I caught her! Emotionally more than temporally, it felt like a long labor and I felt like I experienced less mind-body integration than with previous labors (the actual moment of birth was much more instinctive and powerful than with the other babies though). In general, lots was unexpected about this labor—-it lasted longer than I expected (about 5 hours that were serious, but some warm-up time before that too) and was somewhat erratic and I had quite a bit of back pain. Right before pushing, contractions were still 4-8 minutes apart and it was hard for me to assess where I was/how “active” of labor it was—I was thinking I could either be at the 3cm point OR the transition point! My water didn’t break until seconds before she was born and I felt like it REALLY needed to break, but wasn’t. My kids weren’t here, because her birth was during the day (also unexpected, and a Wednesday, not a weekend!). It was just Mark, my Mom and me.

I spent a lot of time on the birth ball and Mark would stroke my back in just the right way

After criticizing myself at length for being “too analytical,” “thinking too much,” and not letting “my monkey do it,” I experienced a spontaneous birth reflex and pushed her out in a kneeling position and it only took one contraction—her whole head and body came out all at once, no moment of crowning or head birthed and then body following, just a bloosh of entire baby. I caught her myself. Mom and Mark both missed seeing her come out, because the phone rang at the same time. My mom went to stop it and Mark was moving around to the front of me, and when they looked again, I was holding her (Mark says it was about 12 seconds). So, no birth pix 😦

I did tear again, exact same extra-delicate and non-“traditional” place from what I can tell. Feels better than previous births already though–I know how to heal from this (even though I wish I didn’t have to).

My plan for immediate postpartum worked out perfectly and just like we planned. The midwife came about 40 minutes after the birth and checked blood loss. My doula was here about 20 minutes after and fed me a bite of placenta—and, I ate it! No gagging or anything!

I have very different post-birth feelings this time around—though I still had the “I did it!” moment, I felt less euphoric and triumphant and more relief and the feeling that, “we survived!” Blog posts about this will eventually follow…

And, did I mention that I caught her myself?! 🙂

Shortly post-birth

My "40 weeks" picture--due date was Jan. 22nd, so took a picture on that day to show how she could (theoretically) still fit! (though she wasn't breech!)

Finishing Up!

Jan5

I have had a crabby and annoying day for much of the day, which is not the frame of mind I envisioned being in when writing this post! I originally set out to write about what a nice time I’ve been having the last couple of days, sooooo….going to just write and perhaps I’ll recapture some of the peace and sense of harmony that was prompting me to write in the first place!

On Sunday, I had a very delightful time spontaneously working on the birth altar I planned to make. When I say spontaneous, it doesn’t mean that I didn’t know I was going to do it—I knew I was, someday—just that I suddenly started working on it and basically didn’t quit until I was finished and it came together in a perfect way for me. I felt so good and content after making it. Inspired by that experience, I then wrote down a list of my fears about the birth (this was also on my to-do-before-actual-birthing-day list) and then did a Hypnobabies “fear release” session after that. And, then I burned them all up in the kitchen sink. More good feelings!

Also on Sunday, while the kids were at my parents’ house, I worked in the bedroom getting all of the baby’s clothes sorted and into the right boxes as well as assembling my special tub of birth supplies so that everything is easily available in one place and no one has to ask me for anything—I even put a box of raspberry leaf tea in, which could also easily just stay in the cupboard where it usually lives, but it is right there with everything else now. While I was doing this, Mark worked on sorting out his own clothes and decluttering the closet. We also decluttered some of the “hot spots” on our kitchen counters that attract random piles of nothing important. So, more good feelings about that!

The next morning, I woke up before the kids and did the Hypnobabies “visualize your perfect birth” exercise (not a CD, my imagination). It suggested spending about 5 minutes and I spent almost 20 minutes—since I am having some strange “death” fears about this birth, I went ahead and carried the visualization through to my being 89 and then to the baby being 89 ;-D Maybe this was excessive, but I felt good about it—ending the visualization with just the initial “hi, baby!” moment didn’t feel like enough to me! So, then I felt really positive and complete about that 🙂 I also finished my birth altar that morning—I put a glaze over the images, took pictures, etc. I also listened to the pregnancy and birth affirmations from Hypnobabies while I did some of my other work. Later, we went on a nature exploration walk in the woods to enjoy the nice weather and when we came back, I read some of my kids’ homebirth books to them—Welcome with Love, Runa’s Birth, and We’re Having a Homebirth. They are excited and want to be there when the baby is born, but I’m strongly leaning toward only having them present if they happen to wake up. I don’t know that I want them woken up if they’re not ready (I realized this for sure after Z mentioned how he is going to be “screaming” when the baby is born. Um. No, thanks on that).

Then, on Tuesday, I had some more belly pictures taken. It is fun to be “special” and get my pictures taken 🙂 I love all of the ones I’ve seen so far from this shoot, but these two are really good!

Today, I had my first prenatal appointment with my midwife at our own house. I’ve spent the entire pregnancy not being able to picture her in our home and so, now, I can—because she’s actually been here. I hadn’t really realized before that she hasn’t really ever met Mark or my mom, other than very short introductions about 6 years ago! She seems to think I will have the baby early—baby’s head is very low (which I can feel, for sure!) and she said my amniotic fluid has decreased. She also thinks baby is on the small side, but I think I will fool people once again. I only measure 33 weeks, which is kind of funny, because I wonder what I would look like measuring 40 weeks—I guess pretty extreme! I have been having a lot of pre-birthing waves (trying out my Hypnobabies words!). I always do, but they’ve definitely increased in frequency to about every 15-20 minutes throughout the day. I also reminded her that I don’t expect to call her until near the end, because what I want from her is immediate postpartum help—I like being almost alone during my birthing time (more Hypnobabies words. I like this one especially—it isn’t “labor” it is my “birthing time.” :))

After the midwife left, my mom stayed and we went through my box of birth supplies so she knows what is where. I also made sure she knows how to use my camera because she is on picture-duty. I also showed Mark and my mom the things I learned about neonatal resuscitation at the training I attended last month and we practiced with my resuscitation bag so that we all know how to do “positive pressure ventilation” and chest compressions on a newborn now. I know this might seem kind of over the top, but I find it very empowering to know how to do these things now—they always seemed “mysterious” and specialized before—and it doesn’t make me feel like I’m planning for a “worst case,” but that I’ve completely resolved any fear I had about things I wouldn’t know how to do for my own baby if I was giving birth alone! We’ve been talking about needing to do this since the end of Dec., so it felt very good to get everything all squared away in this manner.

Really the only things left I’d like to get done now before she is born are the belly cast and my blessingway and to crochet one more hat for her! (Of course, I have non-birth/non-baby things in abundance that I’d also like to get done—double checking the exam questions for my online class, finalizing the FoMM newsletter, submitting two articles, finalizing some the blog posts in my drafts folder, etc., etc., etc. , <sob>), but right now my mind is on the specifically getting-ready-for-baby to-dos and I’ve done ’em! Go, me!

Happy New Year!

Jan1

I’m 37 weeks today and it feels exciting to now be in the baby’s birth month and birth year at last! I recognize this feeling of ”

37 weeks!

any time now” from other pregnancies—when you hit the official “full-term” mark, it makes you feel like the baby is seconds away, even though I truly expect her to be born right around (if not actually on) her due date three weeks from now. But, the sense of being full-term heightens a sense of awareness and expectation around, “could it be today? Or, today? How about today…” As I said, I do not expect to have her early, my past experiences don’t indicate such—my due dates are usually very spot-on. I am having a LOT of contractions lately. During the last three days or so they’ve picked up in both frequency and intensity. I also have a LOT of cervical twinges (the “baby-biting-my-cervix” feeling). This has been going on since about 31 weeks or so, which is much earlier than I remember from other pregnancies (seems like a 37 week+ feeling). This feeling is very strong at night and almost hurts—like she is twisting her head around/burrowing down. I weigh 168 pounds now—most ever! I’d kind of like to not pass 170…

No swelling anywhere. Pretty good energy level. BP decent (slightly high at midwife’s, normal if I take it at Wal-Mart of my dad takes it). No more leukocytes in urine. Went to chiropractor last week because I have a persistent intuitive feeling of needing to get my pelvis aligned. So, that was good to check off my list. Midwife says baby is lined up in ideal position in utero/pelvis and estimates her to weigh about 5 pounds (which I think is wrong. I always surprise my care providers with the actual size of my babies. I think she’s pushing 7lbs right now, probably–6.5 or so).

Feeling nesty and have been assembling box of birth supplies, sorting through baby clothes, and collecting expendable towels and receiving blankets. Feel like cleaning up and decluttering big time—in with new, out with old time of year! Finished crocheting an afghan for her and want to make a matching hat. Haven’t done belly cast yet—want to soon—and feeling the pressure to get it done! I also need to review the neonatal resuscitation stuff I learned at the training last month with my mom and with Mark, so that the only person at the birth who knows how to resuscitate a baby is not also the only person who is birthing the baby….!

I also have collected materials to make a “birth altar” for this birth. It is a shadow box/shelf that I’m going to collage all over inside and out and then be able to set things inside on the little shelves 🙂 Going to have some additional pro pregnancy pictures taken on Tuesday! Haven’t really had any birth dreams. I am expecting her to be born at night (well, wee hours of morning) on a weekend within two days on either side of her due date. I’m also expecting her to be born very quickly. If I’m in labor for longer than four hours I don’t know that I’ll know what to think about that! I keep imagining a sort of “sudden” birth—like one of those 45 minute ones! I started reading Simply Give Birth again to get me in the birthy frame of mind. My mom is reading The Power of Women for the same reason. I am into week 4 with my Hypnobabies home study. Still having “issues” with the persistent and frequent use of the word “anesthesia,” but finding that the finger drop technique works amazingly well. I want to do a fear release exercise with myself soon—I’d like to write up my various birth/baby/postpartum fears and work them through on paper, maybe doing a drawing or art exploration, and then do a Hypnobabies fear clearing session.

Looking forward to my blessingway next weekend! If she does for some reason end up being early, that could put a crimp in my party plans! I actually have a lot of plans for next week. I have this urge to “wrap things up,” which is making me run kind of high/frantic, rather than rest and relax and rejuvenate in anticipation of a nice, peaceful babymoon. My next online class starts on Jan. 10th and I’ve got some remaining prep work to do for it too!

Didn’t update with a 36 week picture, so here it is too: