So much of who I am today is directly tied to how and where I gave birth to my children. I completely understand why women choose to have medication in childbirth. When I was pregnant with our first baby, my first reaction when we had a positive test was, "I've got to call the doctor and find out what to do!" I viewed myself as a patient. My sister-in-law, a doula, had encouraged us to seek out a midwife instead of an OB, but I thought she was crazy! I was not having a witchdoctor attend the birth of my first child! I lived by the philosophy "Ignorance is bliss."
I remember when people would ask me if I was having "the drugs," I would think they were crazy for asking me such a question. Of course I was having the drugs! At one point during the pregnancy I thought there was a chance that our insurance plan wouldn't cover an epidural and I completely panicked. How could they expect me to give birth without pain medication? I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief when I found out I had misunderstood our coverage.
Also during that pregnancy, I had an encounter with a woman who had had a midwife attend her unmedicated birth and chose to tear because she was emphatic about not having an episiotomy. She never explained to me why she was making these (crazy) decisions, but looking back on it, I wish she would have. (I always speak up when talking to pregnant moms!)
We enrolled in a hospital childbirth class because that's what you are supposed to do. The instructor announced right from the beginning that if you wanted to feel the birth and not have the epidural, you were in the wrong class. This was for "the wimps." I felt at ease. We were very prepared to be good patients. They explained all about the hospital procedures and policies. We took a tour. We learned about the epidural and were assured that it was safe for both mom and baby. I was so glad to be in such capable hands. I didn't have to know about anything that was happening to me. They would take care of everything. Did I mention that the hospital where we chose to give birth averaged 30 babies a day? (You are statistically more likely to have a c-section in a busy hospital.)
The day before I was due, I had an appointment with our OB. During my vaginal exam I found out that I was not dilated or effaced. He told me that at this point that my body "just wasn't sure what to do." He wanted me to come in for a non-stress test (fetal monitoring) in 5 days. He said at that point I would likely be induced and that it was best to emotionally prepare for a c-section because my chances of having one greatly increased with an induction. (Twice as likely, to clarify.)
I left that appointment, again, feeling like my doctor knows what he's doing. My husband's reaction, however, was quite different. He felt jipped. He wanted to have the experience of not knowing when labor would start and the rush to the hospital. We took blue cohosh and castor oil intermittently for hours. All joking aside, I DO NOT recommend taking those substances into your body. At midnight, we gave up and decided to go to bed.
Now, no one had told us that intercourse and nipple stimulation could start labor. We were engaged in these activities when I felt something very different than what I had been feeling for the last several weeks. It faded, but came back about 5 minutes later. We were so excited! We got dressed and went walking. By the time we got home, I had to stop during contractions. It got hard pretty fast. I took a bath and that did help. I hadn't prepared to feel anything, remember.
A side note -- I spent the first several hours of labor throwing up and having diarrhea from all the castor oil.
After 5 1/2 hours of labor, my vaginal exam told me that I was 90% effaced and 3 cm dilated. Remember, my body "didn't know what to do" and my cervix was a "big, fat zero" just a few hours earlier. My doctor didn't know when I would start labor! My body worked very hard in those 5 hours. I cried when I got to the hospital because I could have pain medication.
I had Nubain until I was further dilated. I felt drunk. I could still feel contractions, but I couldn't talk. My body was working so hard when I was moving around and making fast progress, but when I got in the bed, everything slowed down. (Remember that, pregnant moms.) Eventually I was able to have the epidural. With that came a flood of interventions, such as fetal monitoring, an IV, a catheter, a pulse monitor, fever reducer, pitocin to speed contractions, oxygen to bring up the baby's heart rate (who was doing fine until I introduced drugs into the equation), blood pressure monitor, eventually internal monitoring of the baby (had to break water to make that possible). What started as a normal, healthy, physiological event turned into a high-tech circus in which I had no control over.
My baby's heart rate kept dropping and the nurses kept telling me I was on the road to a c-section. I would have had one if my sister-in-law (the same one who wanted me to have a midwife) would not have been there. After each contraction, she would roll me over to my other side and that would bring baby's heart rate up. The nurses were surprised to find that I was dilated to a 9 and went ahead and moved me to a delivery room. I pushed for 45 minutes and gave birth to a very small baby boy. 6 pounds, 1 ounce on his due date. (That's a story for another time.)
My husband was very emotional, and while they cleaned the baby and check him out, David looked at me and said in this awestruck voice, "You've just given birth," like I was so amazing. I felt embarrassed by his reaction because I didn't feel like I had done anything amazing at all. I didn't even feel the birth. Nothing.
I reflected on the birth for several months afterward, but it wasn't until I picked up a copy of Dr. William Sears's book, "The Birth Book" that I realized what I had done. I only had one chance to give birth to that baby, and I blew it! In the words of Dr. Sears, "Birth Matters." Sometimes we find that out later than we'd like. The beautiful thing is that we can learn from those experiences and make the next time better.
So when I say that I understand why American women have medication in childbirth, I really do. I've lived it. And there is a better way to give birth.
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