Friday, July 5, 2013
My Journey: Attending my first birth
I was lucky with my first birth - about the time I decided that I wanted to look into becoming a doula, my baby sister announced that she was expecting! I have never been so excited - baby sister is young, yes, but we've always been close and I knew that she was going to be a great mom! I told her, if she wanted, I would be willing to offer my services and help her as much as I could through her pregnancy, birth and afterwards. I let her know she could ask me anything and that I would support whatever decisions she made.
We talked a lot during the pregnancy - she took it like a champ, and did more research on natural childbirth than I did. (Isn't it amazing how we just assume things will work out?) She knew that she did not necessarily want an epidural, as we had an aunt who suffered from paralysis after an epidural many years ago. She knew that she wanted to try to nurse her baby. She was as prepared as any other nineteen year old I know. I was very proud of her.
She called me one afternoon to let me know that she had just left the doctor's office and that they were going to induce her the next evening if she didn't go into labor. This was not necessarily what she wanted, but her fluid was getting low again - it had been low earlier and she had spent some days in the hospital with that and preterm labor - and she was a few days past her due date. She asked me to come as soon as I could, which would be the following day because my partner had to work that evening and at the time we were functioning as a one car family. She told me that was fine, because they weren't going to start pitocin until that morning anyway and we assumed labor would take quite a long time, as she was a first time mom.
We got a late start, but I spent most of the drive on the phone with my mom, who was helping until I could get there, as well as talking to baby sister when she needed extra help. When I arrived she was at a 7 and had consented to the epidural. The next three hours were a lot of reassuring her, ice chips, and holding a washrag on her head. I really wish I had been able to be there for her earlier.
A belief I hold very dear is that positive thinking can accomplish a lot. Around the time baby sister was at a nine, everyone else in the room began to get discouraged. The hospital that she was birthing at is not well known for allowing natural birth to happen - as evidence by my own birth. The doctor, even, began to mention that we might want to start considering a csection as a possability. After the doctor left, I hushed everyone, and began to work with baby sister to think positive. We talked about the baby, and how she was right there. We pictured her head pushing down and getting the last of her cervix out of the way in order to make pushing easier.
The nurses shifts changed and a new nurse came in. After about an hour of visualization and baby sister willing her body to cooperate with her, it was time to push! I can't take any credit for that - baby sister did such an amazing job! She pushed like a champ from the get go, not needing anyone to count for her or hold her legs, or anything. The baby was born within an hour from the time she started pushing. She was definitely a champ. She did everything exactly how she needed to, and she really listened to her body. I am beyond proud of her!
And watching my niece coming into this world, watching my sister's transition into motherhood, was the most beautiful thing I have ever had the pleasure to witness. Honestly, it was a healing experience for me just to be able to have a tiny, tiny part in helping my sister have the birth she wanted. I am beyond glad that she is able to recount her birth story as a joyful experience, as a wonderful time in her life. I am very glad I can be part of that conversation.
And being with her really cemented that this is something I need to do. I want to be able to help women have the births they want - and even if they can't have the birth they want, help them have the best birth they can, no matter the situation. In particular, I would love to help women who want to VBAC - as I want to do in the future - as well as help women who wish to have repeat c-sections, have the most mother-baby friendly csection they can. I also would love to work as a post-partum doula, helping with breastfeeding in particular.
I am so excited about this new chapter in my life! I really feel like birthwork is a calling, and I feel so passionate about it.
Friday, June 14, 2013
The Journey Continues: My Birth Story
I didn't sleep at all the night before I went in. I remember laying on the couch, willing Nibs to come. I bargained with a God I wasn't even sure I believed in. I cried, begged, and only gave up at 5 am when I finally realized that she wasn't coming. I turned off the TV and laid there, trying to soak up the last hours with my sweet baby inside.
I know I should have been excited that the next day I was going to be a mommy. But instead, I was sick. My stomach churned with the thought of what was going to happen to me. Everything about a cesarean terrified me: being unable to move, being cut open, being completely at the mercy of drs, who are known to mess up. But, I thought I had no choice. I wish I had known I could say no.
I checked into the hospital at 7 am. They hooked me up to all the monitors I'd been hooked up to before, during my non stress tests. I was even in the same room. First, 'my' nurse came in to visit. She had a Chicago accent, much like my grandmother, and that felt very comforting. She let me know that my Dr had picked her specifically, and that he knew I was scared, and she would be with me through the whole thing. She was very, very nice... But like everyone else, she was so dismissive of my fears.
And then came the Anesthesiologist. From the moment she set foot in the room, I didn't like her. She was curt and dismissive and let me know that if I needed it, she would give me 'extra' meds to help me get through it. It sounded so much like a threat.
And then we were left alone. Me, my momma and my partner. It felt like forever. I wanted it to end. I'm ashamed to say I begged for a general, so I could just sleep through. I was told no, of course, but it ways I thought it would be better. Finally, they came to walk me to the ER.
For all the staff in the room, I felt incredibly alone. It took three tries to get the spinal placed. As soon as it was in and I was beginning to numb, I knew that something was wrong. I could feel nothing below my neck! I couldn't move my arms, my hands. The dr came in and told me how proud she was of me... For what?! For meekly allowing them to do as they saw fit instead of allowing my body to do what it was built to do?
I have never been so relieved to see my partner in my whole life. He came into the room, eyes full of sadness and took his seat near my head. Even though I couldn't feel him holding my hand, I felt better. At 10:01 am, Nibs hatched, screaming. I could see the pediatrician rubbing on her and cleaning her up. She was huge!
I couldn't even touch her when they brought her to me. I had to just look and watch as they wheeled her out of the room and my partner followed. And then, the dr began telling her assistant about her upcoming vacation...
I am told I had to be medicated for a panic attack. That I might have moved and injured myself. Next thing I know, I'm in another room, covered in blankets, with a nurse discussing my rapidly falling temperature. I begged her for my baby. For my mom. For my partner. I was alone for another hour, until I regained feeling in my arms and my temp stabilized.
I was lucky in that, as they wheeled me to postpartum, my daughter got wheeled to me as well. When we were in the room, I told the nurse I wanted to breastfeed her. She rolled me to my side, pulled my breast out of my top and laid my baby next to it. There was no instruction, no help. Luckily, my baby wanted me badly and later, I had my MIL to help me.
This experience, and the lack of support afterwards, are what have inspired me to seek out a training program in being a doula once I finish my MFA. So far I have attended one birth, but I have read and learned so much. My hope is to be able to inform other women and Eli them have better experiences. Even if it does have to be cesarean, it doesn't have to be like this.
Jessi
I know I should have been excited that the next day I was going to be a mommy. But instead, I was sick. My stomach churned with the thought of what was going to happen to me. Everything about a cesarean terrified me: being unable to move, being cut open, being completely at the mercy of drs, who are known to mess up. But, I thought I had no choice. I wish I had known I could say no.
I checked into the hospital at 7 am. They hooked me up to all the monitors I'd been hooked up to before, during my non stress tests. I was even in the same room. First, 'my' nurse came in to visit. She had a Chicago accent, much like my grandmother, and that felt very comforting. She let me know that my Dr had picked her specifically, and that he knew I was scared, and she would be with me through the whole thing. She was very, very nice... But like everyone else, she was so dismissive of my fears.
And then came the Anesthesiologist. From the moment she set foot in the room, I didn't like her. She was curt and dismissive and let me know that if I needed it, she would give me 'extra' meds to help me get through it. It sounded so much like a threat.
And then we were left alone. Me, my momma and my partner. It felt like forever. I wanted it to end. I'm ashamed to say I begged for a general, so I could just sleep through. I was told no, of course, but it ways I thought it would be better. Finally, they came to walk me to the ER.
For all the staff in the room, I felt incredibly alone. It took three tries to get the spinal placed. As soon as it was in and I was beginning to numb, I knew that something was wrong. I could feel nothing below my neck! I couldn't move my arms, my hands. The dr came in and told me how proud she was of me... For what?! For meekly allowing them to do as they saw fit instead of allowing my body to do what it was built to do?
I have never been so relieved to see my partner in my whole life. He came into the room, eyes full of sadness and took his seat near my head. Even though I couldn't feel him holding my hand, I felt better. At 10:01 am, Nibs hatched, screaming. I could see the pediatrician rubbing on her and cleaning her up. She was huge!
I couldn't even touch her when they brought her to me. I had to just look and watch as they wheeled her out of the room and my partner followed. And then, the dr began telling her assistant about her upcoming vacation...
I am told I had to be medicated for a panic attack. That I might have moved and injured myself. Next thing I know, I'm in another room, covered in blankets, with a nurse discussing my rapidly falling temperature. I begged her for my baby. For my mom. For my partner. I was alone for another hour, until I regained feeling in my arms and my temp stabilized.
I was lucky in that, as they wheeled me to postpartum, my daughter got wheeled to me as well. When we were in the room, I told the nurse I wanted to breastfeed her. She rolled me to my side, pulled my breast out of my top and laid my baby next to it. There was no instruction, no help. Luckily, my baby wanted me badly and later, I had my MIL to help me.
This experience, and the lack of support afterwards, are what have inspired me to seek out a training program in being a doula once I finish my MFA. So far I have attended one birth, but I have read and learned so much. My hope is to be able to inform other women and Eli them have better experiences. Even if it does have to be cesarean, it doesn't have to be like this.
Jessi
Thursday, June 13, 2013
How The Journey Started: My Pregnancy
From the day I found out I was expecting, I just assumed I would have a natural birth. My mother had three natural births, the last two weighing in at almost ten pounds each. I am a lot like my mother. I knew I had it in me, I wanted it. I didn't even consider the alternatives, even though I knew no one else who had a natural birth out in bfe where I lived at the time.
But, of course, complications arose. It was discovered that I had a low white blood cell count. For months, I dealt with being poked weekly to check it. I went through an unmediated bone marrow biopsy - ouch! - as well as tests for everything else that might be wrong - lupus, cancer, arthritis. Everything test can bak negative so my blood doctor decided it was my baby - whom I call Nibbler, or Nibs - was the problem. At 24 weeks, he told me I should have a csection, right then, to try and fix my issue. I said no.
He informed me at thirty weeks that he felt a csection was the most sterile was to have Nibs and that I should schedule it. I declined, and upon talking to my OB, was told that she felt the same way. Was having an uncomplicated pregnancy and there was no reason to think that I would not be ble to labor and deliver. I only got sick once the whole time despite having a compromised immune system and working in a large retail establishment.
Around this same time, I began seeing a chiropractor for some pain in my hips. As it turns out, one of my hips had been slipping in its socket, but the adjustments made it feel much better. I carried on working 40+ hours a week. My job required me to be on my feet constantly, walking on concrete, but I felt great!
My due date, May 4th, came and went with no change. At my non stress test that week, the nurse told me I was having 'nice' contractions, but I never felt a thing. On May 10th, I went in for an OB appointment. My drs office is split - a front building houses the GYN practice and a back building houses the OB practice. There are five or so OB's, but I had been seeing the same dr since the beginning, due to my 'high risk' pregnancy. (I was also told pre-pregnancy that I was borderline diabetic and was taking metformin - which I relieve allowed me to conceive.)
That day, my dr was scheduled in the front building. It felt so strange to be in the 'regular' office. The rooms were much smaller, hard to fit my belly into! The dr came in and examined me, then told me to get dressed and she'd come back to talk to me. She was very cold, not at all like she'd been before. As I struggled to put my jeans back on, I felt awful. I just knew.
When she returned, she informed me that I needed a csection. That baby had not dropped, I wasn't dilated, blah blah blah... I cried. Hard. I had NO idea that I could tell her no. I knew that I could go to 42 weeks, but I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I was terrified. And then she told me that she feared that my baby would die. My perfect, wonderful baby who I'd wanted for so long. I was overwhelmed. Alone. I let them register me for the next morning.
The entire time the woman was registering me, I was sobbing. Hysterical, almost panic attack sobbing. She made a face the entire time, obviously bothered by having to deal with me. I went home and straight to bed, even tough it was 2 in the afternoon.
Ill post Nibs birth story tomorrow.
But, of course, complications arose. It was discovered that I had a low white blood cell count. For months, I dealt with being poked weekly to check it. I went through an unmediated bone marrow biopsy - ouch! - as well as tests for everything else that might be wrong - lupus, cancer, arthritis. Everything test can bak negative so my blood doctor decided it was my baby - whom I call Nibbler, or Nibs - was the problem. At 24 weeks, he told me I should have a csection, right then, to try and fix my issue. I said no.
He informed me at thirty weeks that he felt a csection was the most sterile was to have Nibs and that I should schedule it. I declined, and upon talking to my OB, was told that she felt the same way. Was having an uncomplicated pregnancy and there was no reason to think that I would not be ble to labor and deliver. I only got sick once the whole time despite having a compromised immune system and working in a large retail establishment.
Around this same time, I began seeing a chiropractor for some pain in my hips. As it turns out, one of my hips had been slipping in its socket, but the adjustments made it feel much better. I carried on working 40+ hours a week. My job required me to be on my feet constantly, walking on concrete, but I felt great!
My due date, May 4th, came and went with no change. At my non stress test that week, the nurse told me I was having 'nice' contractions, but I never felt a thing. On May 10th, I went in for an OB appointment. My drs office is split - a front building houses the GYN practice and a back building houses the OB practice. There are five or so OB's, but I had been seeing the same dr since the beginning, due to my 'high risk' pregnancy. (I was also told pre-pregnancy that I was borderline diabetic and was taking metformin - which I relieve allowed me to conceive.)
That day, my dr was scheduled in the front building. It felt so strange to be in the 'regular' office. The rooms were much smaller, hard to fit my belly into! The dr came in and examined me, then told me to get dressed and she'd come back to talk to me. She was very cold, not at all like she'd been before. As I struggled to put my jeans back on, I felt awful. I just knew.
When she returned, she informed me that I needed a csection. That baby had not dropped, I wasn't dilated, blah blah blah... I cried. Hard. I had NO idea that I could tell her no. I knew that I could go to 42 weeks, but I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I was terrified. And then she told me that she feared that my baby would die. My perfect, wonderful baby who I'd wanted for so long. I was overwhelmed. Alone. I let them register me for the next morning.
The entire time the woman was registering me, I was sobbing. Hysterical, almost panic attack sobbing. She made a face the entire time, obviously bothered by having to deal with me. I went home and straight to bed, even tough it was 2 in the afternoon.
Ill post Nibs birth story tomorrow.
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