Having two midwife-attended home waterbirths I was looking to this 20/20 feature on “extreme” moms with a great deal of trepidation. They advertised a program with segments about orgasmic birth, “reborn” babies, extended breastfeeding, “serial” surrogacy and homebirth.

Which of these things is not like the other? I’m on board for reborns and a dozen surrogacies as extreme behavior (though not impressed with portrayal of these women as freak shows). Orgasmic birth is not necessarily a choice, let alone an extreme behavior - it is what it is; too bad more of us don’t get to experience that way of birthing.

Extended breastfeeding until the age of eight? Yeah, extreme.

But midwife-attended homebirth IS NOT an example of “extreme” mothering.

Just the fact of its inclusion in this program did not bode well for how they’d handle the topic. So, anxious and frustrated before the show even began, we tuned in.

Orgasmic birth
The orgasmic birth segment was the best of the show (and that’s damning with faint praise). The other segments were incredibly biased, sensationalistic, judgmental. The whole premise of this show was misogynistic (let’s paint women, especially mothers, as weirdos so you lot can point and laugh).

Extended breastfeeding
The extended breastfeeding segment wasn’t *really* about extended breastfeeding. It was about statistical outliers - people so far off the curve that they would be considered… extreme. No false advertising here lol. My gripe with this, aside from the aforementioned problem I have with the entire premise of this show, is that mainstream society already thinks breastfeeding past a few months old is extreme and wacky. Which puts pressures on mamas to make decisions for their children that are not necessarily in the best interest for their health and well-being just to conform.

If ALL babies weaned on their own biologically-appropriate timeline, you’d have an extreme few weaning between 6-12 months and another extreme few weaning upwards of 8 yo. Outliers. The average age of weaning when it is child-led is between ages 2-4. (That’s me nursing my two year old toddler circa 2002, she weaned completely not too many months after the shot was taken.) Not extreme.  But now we’ve got this show painting all moms who nurse past the first year painted with the same outlier brush.

Worse than all that, the developmental “expert” they featured was an IDIOT trotting out the children “need to be taught independence” myth. Raise your children secure in their attachment for you and you will not need to teach them independence. They are more likely to take risks when they don’t feel insecure about their parents’ love. And, incidentally, the healthiest adult mother/child relationships I know of are those where the adult child can STILL count on their mamas for comfort and support. ♥ Seeking support and comfort from your mother does not necessarily equal dependence on her. Mr. So-Called-Expert is neither informed nor analytical enough for me to have any respect for his opinions.

The mom nursing her six year old son, on the other hand, came off as sensible, reasonable and intelligent - an excellent counterpoint to the so-called expert of developmental psychology whose outdated views on “detachment parenting” contribute to much of the dysfunction we have in society today.

Check out Custom Made Milk for an even more detailed analysis of this segment.

Reborn dolls
Who cares? Not my thing and yeah, those women seem pretty weird, but it’s a harmless eccentricity. Those dolls are works of art - wow!

“Serial” surrogacy
Who cares? As Scott pointed out, most professional athletes use their bodies to make a living and take far greater risks with their health (boxing??) with exactly zero philanthropic motivation. And they are revered.

Ah, on to the homebirth segment…
First, they totally edited the footage from Ricki Lake’s movie so it looked like Abby Epstein was a failed homebirth emergency, when, in fact, she went into preterm labor with a breech presentation. Unless she was parking at the hospital for weeks, this “transport” to the hospital would have happened regardless of where the birth was planned. At least she had the advantage of having a professional healthcare provider attending her before she went to the hospital.

They don’t make a clear delineation between unassisted birth and midwife-attended homebirth. Unassisted birth is an extreme choice, but that choice does not represent the way most families choose homebirth. Again, outlier.

I was glad Ricki Lake was interviewed, but ultimately they focused on Abby Epstein’s experience and how it represents “everything people think is wrong with homebirth.” (ARGH) I bet the Business of Being Born camp was mighty disappointed at how the homebirth segment was produced. I know I was.

Other annoyances
In general, I assume most of these families were given some indication that a segment on 20/20 would give them the chance to participate in a balanced view of their cause. (Were they even told this was for an “extreme moms” segment and what that meant?) I doubt they tell these moms, hey we want to make you out like a freak show, can we interview you?

I was frustrated with the parents who let their children be interviewed for the breastfeeding piece. I don’t think they’re damaging their children by breastfeeding them - I do think putting them on TV to talk about it when our culture is so poisonous on the topic is a particularly unfortunate lapse in judgment.

All the fathers/husbands on the show were painted as long-suffering spouses putting up with their wives’ wacky behavior. Never once were we shown a spouse who demonstrated that he was a participant in the parenting/decision-making.

As I expected, the show was tabloid journalism at its worst - a segment produced for no other purpose than to exploit base human behavior (let’s make fun of weird people). And it was a segment that did no favors for couples who make well-researched, well-considered decisions about birthing and nourishing their babies, making informed choices that just happen to be outside of mainstream behavior.

Day 0 — 03:36

<B> Wakes up with some “more serious” contractions; wakes me up, too (not on purpose).  I can’t really get back to sleep, but I do get a bit more rest.

We spend the day running errands, including a “Non-Stress Test” (NST). This test ensures the baby is “healthy.”  No issues here, he’s strong.
Day 1 — 20:00

Something’s happening.  “Soft” contractions 5 minutes apart.  <B> tries a glass of wine and lies down, but things don’t slow down.  She takes a shower to try and relax.
Day 2 — 01:00

I call the midwife.  I suspect she’ll fall back asleep–it seems like her to me.  Really, we are calling earlier than we need to, but I need the reassurance. She’s on her way.
Day 2 — 02:00

I call the midwife back.  As I suspected: asleep.  It’s O.K., we have time.
Day 2 — 02:35

Midwife shows up.  Essentially tells <B> she needs to get some rest. <B> tries, doesn’t do a great job, but the midwives (the helper showed up, too) and I got a few hours of rest.
Day 2 — 05:00ish?

It’s the start of a long morning.  <B> tries to get comfortable in different places; generally no luck.

Day 2 — 10:00ish?

<B> is DONE.  She thinks she’s ready to go to the hospital for an epidural.  I go talk to the midwives.  I think she just needs a pep-talk.

We talk it over, <B> is tired, tired, tired.  Midwife makes a joke about Starbucks; but this gets me thinking “OK, yeah, Diet Coke has caffeine!  Maybe that will make a difference?”  I go get her a Diet Coke.

Midwives do a cervix check to see “where we’re at”.  4-5 cm, closer to 4 than 5.  I was worried this would be a mental set back, but it wasn’t.

[NOTE: One of the midwives later suggests mothers may need to get this worn out to enable their bodies to relax.  Interesting idea and there might be some merit to it.]
Day 2 — 10:25

It’s enough and we are back on track, all discussion of hospitals the done.  From here on out it’s rock/swivel (in the office chair), walk, pee, repeat.
Day 2 — 12:40

<B> gets in the tub to “relax”.  She’s there for about 1.5 hours before the midwives begin to suggest she does something else.  It takes a half hour more before she’s convinced.
Day 2 — 14:50

<B> stands up in the tub to “see what happens”, I support her.  She begins to have a few harder contractions.  They come a little closer together.

Day 2 — not keeping track of time anymore

We walk and walk around the bathroom tile (it’s a huge bathroom; huge; really big) until her water breaks.  The “waters” are clear: good sign.  I refill the tub (the tub is fairly large, also).  Then we walk a little more.  Then <B> has another cervix check, but things aren’t progressing so well, so they do the check DURING a contraction. Yuck, looks uncomfortable.  We rest a little on the bed, then all of a sudden the boy is crowning.  We get in the tub (me first, then <B>; I am holding her such that she is secure: head above water and with my knees to press on) and not 10 minutes later <B> has the little guy in her arms.
That’s the story, from my point of view.

I left a few things out, things like eating and drinking (I made sure <B> always had something to drink and brought her snacks as frequently as I could get her to eat them) and trips to the toilet (of which <B> made many).

This experience was amazing — I would not want to do it any other way.  We ate and dank when we wanted and had the wonderful comforts of our home. This is where healthy babies of healthy moms are meant to be born!

The Birth Partner by Penny Simkin is one heck of a useful book for either parent.  After reading it, I was generally educated enough to be comfortable “doing my part” (which of course was very little).

Bonding time

Friday 5:00 pm - reflexology session

Saturday 3:30 am - contractions start/nesting

Saturday 11 pm - glass of wine/bedtime

Sunday 1:30 am - early labor kicks up - contractions too frequent and noticeable to sleep through. I try to go back to sleep for a couple hours, but it’s not working. I get up at 3:30 and put veggie soup I’d previously made and frozen into the crockpot for labor sustenance.

Sunday 8 am - we call midwife to give her heads up. Early labor putzes along. Too uncomfortable to leave house. Lots of resting trying to conserve energy for long haul, but can’t sleep.

Sunday 11 pm - labor intensifies; glass of wine doesn’t work. Even though my contractions are still spaced around 5-6 minutes apart, I’m in active labor, vocalizing through the contractions. Sleep is not going to work. Scott calls midwife. She decides to come over - will rest/sleep at our house as much as she can.

Spaced out contractions is a typical labor pattern for me. Worse yet, I have to stay active to keep them at a reasonable frequency. If I sit in even the smallest bit of a reclined position, get in the tub or lie down then the contractions spread out even more - as much as 8-10 minutes apart.

Monday - My midwife (S) and her assistant (J) arrive around 2 am. They had been at another birth earlier in the day and haven’t had much sleep either the past couple nights. Upon assessing my status, my midwife recommends that we all try and get some rest until morning. I’m frustrated that lying down will space out my contractions and I won’t be able to sleep anyway, but I also know that I am TIRED and still have a long way to go. I haven’t had a cervix check at this point, but I know I’m 4-5 cm max. based on my past labors.

S gives me some great advice at this point - she suggests that if my contractions are slowing down when I lie down that my body is giving me an opportunity to rest and conserve energy and I might want to take advantage of it. Even though my contractions are getting pretty powerful, she advises me to do my best to relax through them, knowing that I’ll only have 4-6 minutes like that per hour to endure and the rest of the time I can rest/drowse, maybe even get a little sleep. I took her advice and adopted this strategy for the next 3-4 hours. It worked! My labor slowed down to contractions every 10-15 minutes. They were hard ones - I was vocalizing very loudly. I didn’t really get any sleep, but I got just enough rest to help me power through the morning.

Monday 5 am - Let’s get this party started. I’m done with this lying in bed and moaning thing. I can hear the girls getting up and ready for school with help from Scott’s mom. Maybe I will have a baby brother for them to meet by the time they get home!

All through this, Scott has been very attentive to my needs - especially making sure I’m staying fed and hydrated. Now things are starting to pick up, though - in intensity, if not in frequency - and I find myself seeking more physical support to get through contractions. He’s there for me. Wonderful man.

I’m having a VERY difficult time finding a comfortable position. I could manage the contractions really well in the glider rocker, but it slowed labor down significantly. I’m just way too tired to walk for 5 minutes between contractions or maintain my posture on the birth ball. I found that if I perched on the edge of my office chair with pillows behind me for support I could handle the contractions pretty effectively (especially with sacral counterpressure from Scott) and they didn’t slow down too much. I tried alternating that with some walking and that was a reasonable way to manage it all for a couple hours or so.

Monday 11 am (Where Diet Coke saves me from a repeat cesarean)

I announce that I’m done. I can hardly keep my eyes open and I feel SO discouraged. Nothing seems to be progressing; I’m just in this incredibly tedious holding pattern and I don’t have the energy to cope anymore - let alone kick up my activity to help accelerate the pace of the contractions. All I want to do at this point is be done with labor so I can sleep, sleep, sleep. Epidural, I say to Scott. Let’s go.

He suggests we discuss our options with the midwives. Maybe I need a pep talk? I said, just so long as you know you have to support me in whatever I want to do next. And understand that I’ve already thought this through. I know the risks. He said, You’ll most likely have a cesarean (true, because my labor is progressing WAY too slowly by hospital standards, an epidural would slow it down more, and since I’m a VBAC my doctor would be  *very* unwilling to augment with Pitocin). I said, I’m not sure I care. At least I won’t feel contractions anymore.

All of this is, by the way, a repeat of my last labor. I gave up in the middle, too, and needed a pep talk/coaching to get back on track.

So the midwives suggested a cervix check so I could make the most informed decision. I consented - especially since I knew I’d have to get one at the hospital anyway. They were excited to see that I was a “very stretchy” 6-7 cm dilated and 100% effaced. Baby was +1. Membranes bulging. I guess my labors are putzy, but they DO get the job done. Eventually.

But I was still so TIRED. I was having a tough time imagining that I had the mental and physical resources to manage transition unmedicated. At the same time, I was trying to imagine all the nightmare of being processed at the hospital and how many hours were in store before I’d get any pain relief. And then there was that huge looming risk that hospital most likely meant surgery. And I really wasn’t on board for that - not yet.

Semi-jokingly, J suggested that I have some caffeine. Couldn’t hurt, right? A soda actually sounded good to me and anyway as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Scott was on his way to prepare me a Diet Coke. I ended up  having two. What a difference it made!  I was still pretty darn tired, but it gave me a mental alertness I was desperate for. It helped me with coping as I moved into transition.

Speaking of which, I lose track of time right about here. I get into the tub for a couple hours where I can relax through contractions pretty effectively. This is taking FOREVER. S checks me - I’m 7-8 cm, membranes bulging less. She suggests it’s time to get out of the tub and walk around a bit. I glare at her. She suggested I stand in the tub with Scott supporting me for a few contractions and if I can’t stand it, then I can sit back down in the water. I attempt that. Wow - the contractions bunch right up. I’m feeling out of control. I plop back down in the water. Contractions space back out. I can handle this better.

Unfortunately, this is taking forever. Another check. Not much progress - they start thinking that my sitting position is impeding progress and suggest some side lying in the tub or on the bed. I try it in the tub for awhile and it’s too uncomfortable. Finally I am just resolved. I have GOT to get this over with and I know what I have to do. The midwives look a little shocked to see me getting out of the tub.

So now I walk. I try to squat during contractions, but it’s hard. I start feeling pushy during contractions, but not the real “urge to push.” I get another check. 8-9 cm - gah! Why is this taking so bloody long?? Walk, walk, walk. Lean on my strong man during contractions. It seems like a million contractions later and FINALLY my water breaks. I didn’t think it ever would, but then again I was totally expecting it soon on some level because at this point I confined my pacing to the tiled bathroom so I didn’t sploosh all over my lovely bedroom carpeting.

Another check - still only 9 cm. Shoot me now. I was lying on the bed and didn’t want to get up. I needed a little break. But surprise! Next contraction I felt the urge to push. The midwives said that it was okay to do it as long as I didn’t push more than what my body needed to do. I pushed and could feel his head moving past my pubic bone. I’ve never noticed that sensation before - amazing!

We discussed moving to the tub for the birth, but before I could verbalize my choice to be in the tub, another contraction hit and I was astounded, “Ring of fire!” I said. Holy cow, the boy was crowning after only two contractions. We hastened to the tub. Scott stripped to his underwear and got in behind me. Two more contractions and Jake’s head was out. One more contraction and he was born. 40 hours from the beginning of early labor; 18.5 hours of active labor and 11 minutes of pushing. Amazing. I’ve been saying that once my uterus opened the door, he just rather fell out!

From Spiritual Midwifery:

Don’t complain, it makes things worse. If you usually complain, practice not doing it during pregnancy. It will build character.

I read this a couple days ago, and I keep thinking about it. I’m generally a good sport, but I could certainly complain a LOT less. Especially if a more graceful/gracious demeanor will facilitate a somewhat faster labor, seeing as both of my past labors were 17+ hours and involved lots of complaining.

I’m over halfway through this book now. I can’t believe I’m on my fourth pregnancy and this is the first time I’ve read it!

I wish I would have sooner. I’m actually finding it quite transformative when it comes to some mental roadblocks. I thought I had my healing birth when I had my third baby at home, in the water, but I see I still have issues to work through.

What I am learning particularly is how I have so much responsibility for setting the tone and mood for my birth. What I can do to ease the experience for myself and my baby rather than simply rely on superhuman support from my spouse and other birth attendants. I took the huge step two births ago to lose my reliance on technology, but I still didn’t completely get it.

I read my previous birth stories and they are just filled with anger and frustration. Not with the pain so much as the slow progress I made in spite of all the pain. How counterproductive. I suspect I made things longer and harder on myself because of these issues.

So this book is helping me adjust my attitude and expectations tremendously. I didn’t expect to like it so much. I  picked it up at just the perfect time. Inspiring.

As far as OBs go, I think mine is amazingly crunchy. For example, when she saw I was reading the Spiritual Midwifery book while I was waiting for her, she said, “Oh, great book!!!” She’s into all kinds of unconventional and alternative therapies, offering doula services, accupuncture/pressure, reiki services right in her facility.

So it surprised me yesterday when she casually suggests an ultrasound for no medical reason whatsoever.

It went something like this: At my appointment yesterday I measured a little low (34 cm - I’m 36 weeks) and after she measured, she asked when I had my last u/s. (28 weeks) Then she says casually, “Let’s get another one to check his size.”

I measured dead on last week, so I was blindsided by this. I was noncommittal, but my head was screaming “WTFFFFF???”

I didn’t even know WHY she’d order the u/s. Upon brief palpation she said she doesn’t think he’s going to be as big as my earlier babies (8-9 lbers) - the exact opposite of what my midwife said LOL - so the test here isn’t to feel sure I can VBAC a “big baby.” Is she worried about him not thriving? IUGR? Is she not worried at all and just routinely orders a sizing u/s at this stage of pregnancy? But I was so dumbfounded at the time that I couldn’t even muster a simple, “why?”

And don’t even get me started on how worthless u/s is at estimating birth weight - especially at this stage of pregnancy.

Everything is going fabulously right now <knock wood> - blood pressure is low, not a speck of swelling, babe is super active, strong heartbeat. Anyway when she checked my cervix, she said the boy isn’t engaged at all.

But, even so, he’s all over the place. He’s in a completely different position every time I’m measured (twice a week right now between midwives and shadow care OB). I feel very confident that his position likely accounts for the measuring difference.

I’m pretty sure I don’t want to get an ultrasound (thereby hopping onto the intervention train). I’ve been on that ride before - it’s learning from that hard won experience which has me so embittered now.

I mean, sure, I’d love to see Jakey in utero again and see how he’s grown. Fun!

But it’s just not worth the risk. I really don’t want to go in for an u/s for “size” (and my personal pleasure) and have them identify some vague long-shot something that makes them (and potentially me) all scared and anxious. If there was actually some valid concern at this point, that would be different.

[Aside: I'm particularly sensitive to this right now, too, because my midwives recently shared a story where one of their clients got risked out of homebirth because the u/s clinic (same one where I'd go, BTW) found a possible heart problem. It was all very vague and possibility and maybe. The midwives were still willing to attend her homebirth, since there was no official dx, just "shadows," but ultimately she felt too pressured/nervous by the doctors and risked herself out to hospital birth. It went wonderfully, the midwives were present. Baby was perfectly healthy - no heart problem as it turned out.]

So, anyway, wanting to know more about my doctor’s motivation here before I seriously considered consenting to an u/s, I finally called the doctor’s office for some clarification (after much urging from Scott who, I think, was a little aggravated by my angsting when it was all so needless what with modern telecommunications and all that).

As it turns out she’s not worried about anything at all. The timing of the u/s suggestion right after the fundal measurement was merely coincidence. According to the person I talked to, doc says this suggestion was for a third trimester u/s she does routinely to check baby’s growth. “It’s a good thing!” the receptionist chirped.

Oh, honey. <sigh>

Anyway, that makes it easy to refuse.

GEEZ. I think my conventional OB from 11 years ago did less routine prenatal testing than I’ve had to consider this time.

Oh, labor. I don’t fear you, but I surely do dread you.

We had a midwife appointment last night - those are always enjoyable! I like to hear the exclamations about how well baby is growing and how healthy everything seems to be <knock wood>.

We talked a bit about birth expectations and my past labors.

:: HM’s birth story (May 1997)
:: Mir’s birth story (March 2000)

My past labors were long - both of them 17 hours of active labor, which had been preceded by weeks and weeks of ever intensifying prodromal labor and a couple false alarms. In talking through some of this last night I think I figured out where I went wrong in the past. When I think about those past labors, I remember that with HM (a hospital VBAC) I spent a lot of that laboring time in bed, exhausted. Certainly I didn’t have any help there from gravity.

With the Stadol and a lot of gutteral moaning I was able to get through transition without an epidural. At 11:00 am, I was at nearly 10 cm and had been for over an hour. The doctor suggested amniotomy then to get me fully dilated and hopefully increase the frequency of my contractions (only 3-5 min. apart throughout transition, but VERY long and intense) without pitocin. I complied, but unfortunately this made no impact on the effectiveness of the contractions. What it DID do, I didn’t even know could happen! I heard the nurse say uh-oh as she examined my cervix after the AROM and then she said, “you have ‘go-back;’ you’re back at 7 cm.” Those were the most devastating words I could possibly have heard. She felt so sorry for me. She said that the baby was so low that she knew that intensified the pain and she couldn’t believe how strong and stoic I was for doing this without an epidural. I didn’t feel very strong; I felt trapped. Believe me, I was not grace personified.

I howled, “NOOOO!” At this point I’d had less than four hours sleep in the past 72 hours, had labored all the way through with minimal pain relief and now was being told I had to transition AGAIN??!! I was at the end of my rope both physically and mentally. The nurse told me I should be back at 10 cm in less than an hour, so I gritted my teeth, determined not to give up (as if I had a choice). At this point, an epidural wouldn’t even have time to work, so I asked for more Stadol, received a 1/2 dose that did NOTHING to relieve the pain and ground my way through THREE MORE HOURS. It was ugly. [THANK GOD I had a doula!!! (What is a doula?)]

With Mir, I was at home and did more sitting and pacing. But ultimately to get labor TRULY going and make any progress with cervical dilation, I had to be VERY active walking between contractions and squatting as much as I could during the contractions.

Man, that sucked. I mean, it SUCKED. (But it worked...)

Then, in the middle of the next contraction, I felt that wonderful, amazing pushing urge. The midwives all jumped into action, pulling on gloves and making final preparations. I looked at them kind of disbelievingly… it didn’t seem to me that there was any need to rush. I still felt somewhat hopeless about whether this baby was going to come out or not. Looking back, I’m amazed at the bad attitude I had for most of my labor. After having such a long labor with HM, I thought I had paid my dues in that regard. I was not at all happy to be enduring the same thing all over again. I realize now that I had not prepared myself for this contingency at all. I guess I really expected an easier time this time and when I didn’t, it put me in a pretty bad mood.

My tendency in labor is to retreat and cope with the pain in my own private way - even before the pain is truly transition-level overwhelming.

That’s not necessarily a bad response for many women. But my issue seems to be putzy labors. They’re doing lots of work to get baby into the proper position for birth, but in the meantime it takes a HUGE toll on me - wearing me out, draining my energy. I think I don’t do myself any favors by being “lazy” during labor and that I need to prepare myself to handle the situation differently this time.

This time, I need to be more active. Walking, squatting, sitting on a birth ball - doing everything I can to facilitate this process by increasing the rate of contractions and simultaneously opening up my pelvis. It’s not fair that it should be this way. That I have to WORK to make myself hurt MORE? But I’ve learned my lesson. I would rather actively help myself have a faster, more efficient labor than passively accept what is doled out to me, wondering <sobbing> “Is this ever going to end?!?!”

So, I confided all this to our midwives at the appointment last night and they, of course, agreed (it’s kind of a duh - I should have known better with my last labor).

It’s funny because I told them I am going to be PISSED if I do all that work and it all makes no nevermind. And our backup midwife laughed and said, “Yeah, I would never walk again!”

She made me laugh.

Anyway, I have a plan. Now I need to start preparing for it.

My story:

1. My first birth was an unnecessary cesarean. It all started with an unnecessary induction when my body and baby were not ready and cascaded into a whole slew of interventions that put my uncooperative body on an impossible deadline. I had the highest possible dose of induction drugs (Pitocin) and my water broken. Nothing worked. After 15 hours of fake labor, I was still only dilated to 3 cm and B started to go into distress.

B was surgically delivered at 39 weeks gestation, identified with some breathing issues and separated from me in the NICU for her first 24 hours (while I recovered from major abdominal surgery that included all the fun of staples, support hose to prevent blood clots, IV fluids, catheterization and a morphine drip).

2. When I was pregnant again 14 months later, I wanted a different outcome. I got online and educated myself. I learned that if you really worked at it and fought the system, things could be different. I hired a doula as my emotional advocate. My doctor wanted to induce me again at 39 weeks, claiming that my history proved I couldn’t deliver a “big baby” (B was 8 lb 2 oz) and he wanted to see me delivered before this baby got “too big.”

I protested, citing that we had no evidence what size baby I could birth, seeing as how I didn’t dilate past 3 cm last time, let alone to the pushing stage. I agreed to consider induction for a legitimate medical reason. He backed off. I was annoyed I had to fight for my right to a normal birth. Frustrated that I had to be THIS educated on the topic just to present the scientific, rational viewpoint in counter to the emotionally manipulative one. WTF? Why is the baseline of birth to treat it like a disease? Why does the default mentality presume dysfunction?

At 40 weeks, my labor began spontaneously. A labor doula attended my birth for emotional support and advocacy. HM was born in the hospital after 17 hours of nonmedicated labor (which I survived with LOADS of that doula’s support). A successful VBAC. Exactly zero complications. She was one-half ounce shy of 8 lbs.

3. Three years later: Pregnant again and even more empowered this time (by god, I KNEW my body could do it). I decided, Why go to a Chinese restaurant when it’s Italian I crave? Although lay midwifery enjoys marginal status in Ohio, I tapped into the underground and hired a team of experienced direct-entry midwives to attend my birth at home. No arguing with medicos about my care. I found a team with whom I was on the same page. A team of professionals I could trust to approach birth as a healthy, normal function unless there was reason to treat it otherwise.

Labor began spontaneously at 41 weeks gestation. Mir was born at home, in the water. 8 lbs 12 ozs. So much for the theory that I can’t deliver “big babies.”

In 2005, the US cesarean rate was at an unprecedented 30%. INSANE. Given the steep increase of this trend in the past five years, it was no doubt higher in 2006. Does anyone really believe American bodies are THIS much more dysfunctional than those belonging to the rest of the human race?

Cesarean Section Increases Maternal Mortality Rate 4-Fold (August 2003)
A research study published in the August 2003 edition of the journal Obstetrics and Gynecology finds that Cesarean section significantly increases the maternal mortality rate.

The US has the 2nd worst neonatal mortality rate of any industrialized nation. We could do a LOT better than this with the appropriate management of care and more limitations on medical interventions.

Babies Delivered by Cesarean More Likely to Die (September 2006)
Researchers at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention analyzed over 5.7 million live births and nearly 12,000 infant deaths over a four-year period.  The research, published in the journal Birth: Issues in Perinatal Care, found that neonatal mortality rates (death in the first 28 days after birth) among infants delivered by cesarean section were more than twice those for vaginal deliveries, even after adjusting for socio-demographic and medical risk factors.  “These findings should be of concern for clinicians and policy makers who are observing the rapid growth in the number of primary cesareans to mothers without a medical indication,” says lead researcher Marian MacDorman.

I envision a better future than this for my daughters. A future where nonintervention is the standard of pregnancy care and the surgeons - rather than CREATING medical conditions and complications - are reserved for treating them as they arise.

Show us something that warms your heart.

Water baby

What warms my heart? A peaceful birth.

I’m hoping for another one of these in July.

Mir was born at home March 1, 2000. In this photo, she was “between worlds.” As she emerged from the water, the midwife put the cap on her head to conserve her body heat and her daddy snapped this photo. She has yet to draw her first breath. (Though she did just moments after this photo was taken.) She’s my big, almost-seven year old now. She was the sunniest baby, and remains a happy little girl. See earlier  entries for some examples of her antics.

And does my little Pisces love the water? Oh yes, she does.