A Woman's Birth Deserves Respect

I've hinted at a few things people have told me about my freebirth, but one that is permanently fixed in my mind is someone giving my baby a nickname having to do with the color of the water when she was born.

Someone decided to give her the nickname "Jello baby" because the water was red when my husband sent out the announcement picture.  She had been born less than 10 minutes before, so we were still in the pool, and yes, I bled in the water (which happens in a waterbirth) so the water was red.

Now, if this nickname was because she's a chubby baby, I wouldn't care.  I never thought I would have a chubby baby and I'm loving it, so the nickname for that would be endearing to me.  But simply because you are making fun of how she was born because it's not a common choice?  That is not okay on any level.

Let's say I had a hospital birth or another cesarean, whether scheduled or not.  If our announcement of her birth had been sent out with me in the hospital holding her, or of her in the OR, or anything like that, no one would dare make a nickname based on that.  There would be no jokes about how the room looked, how she looked, what I was wearing or where I had her.  Everyone would be so supportive of our choice to have her in a setting they understand.

The thing is, it doesn't bug me as much as it did when I heard the nickname the first time.  What bugs me is that women that give birth in a situation others don't understand have to face scrutiny for it.  Sneers and jokes and comments about bravery and risks.  It doesn't stop.

Just like how we need to take control of our own births, we need to respect the births of others and not poke fun at them if they are different than the "normal" birth we imagine.

There is a huge difference between spreading information on birth choices and picking the births apart for a joke.  There is a huge difference between sharing links and resources with someone looking for change or hoping to help someone feel empowered in their own choices and hoping they don't see the underlying mean spirit.

I am not ashamed of my birth choices.  What makes me feel ashamed is how others treat those choices.  When other homebirthing mothers call me brave and roll their eyes, I wonder what I am lacking in their eyes.  When women hear about my birth and then instantly change the subject it makes me wonder what was so wrong with my choice that I can't talk about it like I could if I had chosen to have my baby in the hospital.

I hate that I feel I have to justify my choice to others.

No woman should have to justify her choice for her birth.  You may not agree, I know I don't agree with many choices others make, but that doesn't give anyone the right to make them feel less because of it.

If we want to change the way that women birth, we have to believe their birth was special.  It doesn't matter how they birth, it was special.  A mother is created, and a baby is born.  How is that not one of the most special things that anyone can do in their life?  Creating life should be treated as the sacred act that it is, regardless of how that came about.

We all deserve to take power from our births, and that starts with changing the way we treat the births of others.

Anniversary of a Freebirth

It's been a little over one year since our little miracle entered our lives.  Everyday she helps us in ways I didn't even know we needed.

Her birthday brought up so many memories.  All that happened just to get pregnant with her, all the emotions of that whirlwind pregnancy, but especially her birth.

Her pregnancy and birth were the single greatest things I've ever done.

To preface, freebirth isn't for everyone.  It isn't meant to be.  We decided before we even got pregnant that freebirth was something we were very interested in, and once we got pregnant, it felt like the best decision for our family.

The beginning of the pregnancy I felt safer seeing a provider than not.  I had some bleeding and I needed to see my baby. I had three ultrasounds from six to eleven weeks, and discovered I have a bicornuate uterus in the process, but that is for another post.

I saw a high risk OB an hour away, and once I felt safe on my own, I cut care.

From eleven weeks on, I did my own care.  Every four weeks I did an actual "prenatal", but only to satisfy my curiosity.  I loved knowing what my body was doing.  I loved being in charge of what happened to me.  I didn't use a Doppler, only a fetoscope, and that was an amazing experience.  I got to know my baby.

I was able to hear her placenta, her cord, figure out her position, what she liked and didn't like.  It was incredible to me.

At 27 weeks I was admitted to the hospital.  I got the same stomach bug that hit my oldest daughter, and when I get dehydrated, I contract.  A lot.  By the time they were able to insert my IV, I was contracting every two minutes.  Some medication, fluids, and rest and I went home.

From that point on, my baby sat very low, and I contracted all the time.  I was cranky.

The biggest issue with a bicornuate uterus is a very high chance of breech, and I was prepared (and even a little excited) for that possibility.  However, my baby was head down at 22 weeks and stayed firmly that way.  Probably for the best, I didn't need another thing for my mind to focus on.

Time went on, I stayed pregnant with no other major issues, and finally it was time for our birth.

I labored mostly on my own.  Every now and then I needed some pressure on my back, but until I started pushing I was good just being left alone.  I was laughing and talking until an hour before she was born.  Once I started pushing, I needed my husband.  He held me while I leaned onto him.  I couldn't focus, the only thing I knew was that I needed to push and that baby needed to be out of me.  Nothing could have stopped me.

In hindsight, it's probably best we chose to have a freebirth.  By the time active labor hit, I would have refused to move, and it was only about 40 minutes later she was born. 

The moment she was born was phenomenal.  Having had a cesarean, seven losses, and then my body actually did what it was supposed to do was incredible!  I couldn't believe it.  I couldn't believe we actually had a baby.

All the trials, the losses, the four years of trying to get pregnant, and here she was!

Fourteen months later I still am in awe half the time.

I haven't written much on that pregnancy, though I do have my birth story up HERE, and maybe someday I will.  That pregnancy tested my faith, my hope, my everything more than anything in my life.  Her birth healed it and so much more.

It isn't often that one simple act can change how you see past events, but her birth did that for me.  My cesarean is seen in a different light, my losses, our pain.  Everything is now different because of her.

Her birth gave me back something I lost a long time ago.  Her birth gave me back my hope.

The Road to Healing

Every year my oldest daughter's birthday comes around and I am taken back to when she was born.  I rework her birth story, add more understanding and less anger.  Though nothing could have prepared me for how her birth would feel after having my Freebirth.

Her cesarean has always been hard for me to deal with.  I'm able to talk about it most times now without stumbling and crying, I can talk to some of the people that caused the reasons for her cesarean without wanting to run away, but now knowing that my body was never broken, that it simply needed no one to mess with it?  I now have an entirely different perspective.

I know that most women won't have the birth I did.  Unassisted Birth, or Freebirth, isn't for everyone.  It isn't meant to be.  You take an even more direct approach to your own care, and you have to reach deep down to become in tune with your intuition.  Some women need another person in charge to rely on.  Others don't want to take completely responsibility for their birth.  Even more don't care.

However, my Freebirth almost eight months ago opened my eyes.

Six years ago I was told things would end differently.  A supposedly term baby, a very "unrisky" procedure, and the possibility of a cesarean if she didn't turn from breech.  I didn't think much beyond that.

Every bad thing that could happen did.  I had a cesarean, my "term" baby couldn't breathe, and I had PPD/PTSD for months after.  I didn't bond, didn't feel much of anything for her other than responsibility.

Now having had my Freebirth, having had that instant bond, I know a few things in the shadow of six years.

The procedure before could have killed her and was completely unnecessary and even more dangerous now that I know about my bicornuate uterus, but the cesarean I despise saved her life.

That may not sound like much, but this is a huge step for me.  One that I see is a step in the way of healing.

They saved her life and inadvertently created the birth of my second.  I don't know if I would have found this path without the trauma caused, but I can now be a little bit grateful for it.

Time To Break The Silence

Two months ago, I had a freebirth, and it was the best experience of my life.

Since, it hasn't been the easiest transition with breastfeeding and having a five year old that is used to undivided attention, but I could always look back at my birth and remember how empowered I felt, how amazing it felt, and just remembering the moment I pulled her out of the water could make me smile.

Since having my freebirth (after having a cesarean with my first), I haven't been shy about telling anyone and everyone about it.  I was nervous the whole pregnancy about discussing our plans because of fear and worry, and honestly, I didn't want people to judge me or call me brave or discuss the risks I was taking.  Ever since?  I can't seem to shut up about it.  Which is how birth should be, in my opinion. Women should want to share their experiences.

Anywho, I have had no trouble since she was born discussing her birth, why we chose to have a freebirth, who was there, what we did to prepare, and all that jazz.  Most people would change the subject if they got uncomfortable with it, or they would say I'm "brave" (an entire issue all in itself).  Some have made fun of my baby by giving her a nickname based on the color of the pool water when my husband sent out the announcement text (probably 15 minutes after she was born so I was still in the pool and yes, it was red, but yes, to me it was the perfect announcement).  Others just talk behind my back.

Until yesterday.

I went to the CNM in my area for a diaphragm, and the nurse took my history, finding out our second daughter was born at home, but she thought it was really neat we informed ourselves and made the choice right for our family.  Then comes the CNM.

She looks through my history, sees the homebirth information and asks which midwife in the area we had at the birth.  I told her we didn't have a midwife, and so she decides to go on a rampage about how she had a dead homebirth VBAC baby come in last week and if we have more children we need to rethink the risks we are taking because they are very real, very dangerous, and it's likely one of us would die if we tried again.

Now, this was just after we finished talking about the seven babies we lost inbetween our daughters.  I know how much it hurts to have a baby die.  I've lived that over and over.  I would never take that big of a risk just to have a freebirth.  I knew my limits, I knew my baby's limits, and in the end, we rocked it.  I would have transferred in a heartbeat if I even felt something was off.

After she told me this, I couldn't even speak.  I know a lot of VBAC moms get played the "dead baby" card, but they are normally PREGNANT when it happens, not holding their 9 week old and just asking for birth control.

I left the office after so angry I was almost in tears.

I've had a lot of bad providers in the last five years.  Some that wouldn't listen, others that just patted me on the head, but this?  This was the worst.

It made me realize something though.  Providers only go as far as we let them go.  I needed to get the diaphragm, so I couldn't leave the office yet before she did the exam and ordered it for me.  So she kept talking.  Had I left or been able to leave?  The situation would have been entirely different.

How many times as women are we forced to sit through a situation where someone talks down to us and we aren't able to leave because we either need something, want something, or are just too afraid of the consequences?

Providers won't learn if we keep sitting through it.  Providers are still telling women their baby will die, and hoping they scare them enough they stay.  Providers are hoping that we sit through it, and some of it seeps into our mind and stays there.

Pregnant women are prone to worry more than others.  You're caring for two people at the same time, one of which is your growing baby.  It's easy to scare a pregnant woman.  I don't know anyone that would risk the life of their baby simply for an experience, but along the same line, providers shouldn't be downplaying that experience just so women don't walk out the door.

No, I didn't get a medal for my freebirth (though I think I totally should have ;) ), but that experience can never be taken away from me.  Instead of treating women like patients that don't know what they're doing, providers should be treating us like we are in charge of our births, because we are.

It doesn't matter where you're birthing, if you have an OB, an MFM, a Midwife, or no one at all, you should be getting the respect you deserve.

And if you're not?  Find another provider.  Interview, ask doulas in your area for recommendations, ask midwives or doctors what other providers they recommend.  The interview process is crucial to finding your fit.  You do not want to be sitting at an appointment wanting to punch your provider, but knowing you can't run away.

That is not how this system is supposed to work.

And if in the end you have no other choice, or feel like you have no choice, file a complaint.  I felt trapped listening to the CNM blather on about how my baby could have died, but that doesn't stop me from filing and hopefully helping her realize it is not okay to scare women.  We shouldn't be letting this cycle continue.  In the end, we might be the difference between a provider continuing the way they are or maybe stopping for one second before they say something.

We can't be silent any longer.  That starts for me today.