I saw a comment where someone compared a birth story to a National Lampoon movie. I LOVE the National Lampoon movies, especially Christmas Vacation.... and I have practically had a birth like that. Close enough. Mostly precipitated by the fact that we planned an unassisted home birth, but our plans did not extend to blowing up the birth tub beforehand. Actually we just didn't have room in the two rooms of our house that were habitable at the time, so we didn't worry with it. When my labor began, I didn't tell Andy for a few hours because a) I barely noticed it myself, and b) I figured if no one but me knew, then it wasn't "real" yet and I could ignore it - the best strategy for early labor. Just ignore it until you can't ignore it and you have to concentrate even between contractions. THEN you can start playing "labor". After a while I had to wake Andy up. I was really tired of doing it alone and I wanted him to help me breathe during my contractions. Then Jax woke up and Andy got his breakfast while I relaxed on the couch.
Anyway, eventually I started really wanting to get in the tub, and they went off to blow it up. Which took like 30 minutes. Then they discovered that the hose I bought didn't reach the hot water spigot. Oops. So Andy came in the bedroom where I was squatting by the bed, and said, "We're going to run to Strickland's." Excuse me??? He was NOT leaving me alone just when it was starting to hurt. So I'm screaming, "Call your DAD - let HIM go!!!" Which, when Andy called and said, "Can you get me a drinking water hose and a brass fitting?" he said, "What for???" Then he was freaking out. My MIL said later that he was running around going, "Oh, oh, oh...." in a state of total panic. But he brought the hose and was there for like 30 minutes while they worked out the best way to hook it up. In the middle of which, Andy was having to run in there for my contractions, doing his best "Three's Company" slide across the hardwood floor in his sock feet. I'll never forget him sliding in the room and around the bed at like 60 mph, to be with me for 30 seconds before running out again.
By the time the tub was actually filled, it was like 11:30. So most of my labor I spent completely by myself. I almost wish we had had a doula, just because it really helped having my hips compressed and I could have used a good foot massage.
There is so much about that day that I will never forget, and so much that still makes me feel giddy to remember. It's one reason why I really want to become the best midwife possible... most women remember their births with amazing clarity for decades. Not just what events happened when, but the things people said to them. And the choice of a caregiver and place of birth profoundly affects their memories, whether it was a positive experience or a negative one. If you have a caregiver that increases your confidence in yourself and your ability to birth, your experience is more likely to mirror your expectations for that birth. And this is true for ANY birth preferences. It sucks that women are more likely to get the birth their caregivers want for them, than the birth they want. All we can do is choose carefully, and in the case of a bait-and-switch, stand firm in our choices and have a supportive partner who will back us up as mine did during my horrible, terrible hospital birth. (Although sadly, I'm finding that my hospital birth experience was comparatively very good when you look at the nightmares some women endure in the name of the god of routine interventions.)
Anyway, some day I really want to help families have the births they want. Births that empower them and that leave them feeling giddy and smiling years later. Not births that leave everyone saying, "Well, at least you have a healthy baby." That is one piece of BS that should die, and quickly. Because birth does matter, and so do women's feelings.
Lesson learned from my National Lampoon Birth story: this time, I'm blowing up that pool early and buying way more hose than I need. :)
Posted by
Karen