Two Paths

Nate’s Birth Story—5 years old




It is hard to remember details from an event of over 5 years ago but sometimes impressions are the most important parts of memory. I remember being anxious and uncertain-wanting this baby to come as soon as possible. Not only did I think that a due date was a guarantee of arrival, I also had believed my Dr. When he told me a month earlier that the baby would come anytime. With Braxton hicks and what I felt to be incredible discomfort, I was eager to be in labour if only to have that baby in my arms. The waiting was challenging to say the least and then the induction process frustrating. What I remember, I remember stages. The administration of cervadil - labouring at home - intense pain of contractions close together - arrival at the hospital - little progress - oxytocin then being administered. Labouring into the night listening to Sarah McGlaughliun -an epidural-slow progress. Pushing for an hour. Nate’s heart rate going down. Having to talk about vacuum and c-section possibility. Finally, after so much anxiety, Nate being born and feeling relief, panic about the blood and not so small amounts of pain. After suctioning Nate was returned to me and I remember feeling uncertain. The nurses had me try to nurse immediately which I felt daunting. I felt like I had been through a war zone and my body had been battered and irrevocably changed-in ways I couldn’t have anticipated by the experience. And yet I learned from the journey-about myself and about my son.

John’s Birth Story—2 years old



I knew that things were going to be different. I wanted to rewrite the birth experience I had with Nate so I researched as much as I could about birth-a birth without interventions that would leave me feeling like I had the previous time. From reading, birth choices (this is a group that offers prenatal once a month for free), preparation and getting set with B. as our Doula, I felt like this time would be different. John’s arrival began at 2am. And within hours the contractions were hard and heavy at 2 minutes apart. We got to the hospital and continued to labour with many comfort measures. Despite some significant discouragement (and later lack of participation) from Dr. W., we had a great nurse-nAncy- as well as some ability to get in to the shower to relieve some pain. The back labour was excruciating and seemingly unending. The progress seemed slow and the day continued to drag on. I recall wanting to be done and then knowing the pain was too much. I hit a point when I wanted-begged-prayed-for it to be over. I recall calling out and being desperate for relief. I remember a nurse telling me I simply had to get through the “ring of fire” and being desperate for it all to be over. John’s eventual arrival was amazing-to see him safe and beautiful. I was on a high-and ready to run a marathon I thought. It was a recovery that took very little time and I remember elation and euphoria as I nursed and bonded with him.

Robbie's Birth Story

Robbie's birth story doesn't begin with a contraction, nor does it begin with his conception, it began several years ago when I became pregnant with our first baby. It was the summer of 2005. Dave and I were SO EXCITED to be expecting our first child. I had the usual first trimester nausea and fatigue, until one Sunday evening I went to the washroom and discovered I had started spotting. The following week was a blur of doctor's appointments, ultrasounds and tears. We heard the news we never, ever expected to hear...we had lost the baby. At 2:30am September 19th, 2005 I woke up in the guest bedroom on my inlaws house with intense cramping (we weren't living in Saskatoon at that point, but were there for work stuff). I ran to the washroom where I birthed my angel baby ('passing the pregnancy' sounds like such an awful term to me). I sat there for a few minutes, holding my baby in my hands. I sobbed until I had nothing left in me. I felt empty, I felt numb, I felt broken.



After the miscarriage Dave and I tried and tried and tried to conceive again. After seven painstaking months, we conceived again, a couple of weeks after our angel baby's due date. This time, we were terrified. I was OBSESSED with having a healthy pregnancy. I read, and worried and did everything I thought I should do in order to carry a healthy baby to term. We knew that Dave was not a 'medical' kind of guy, so hired a doula half way through my pregnancy. We prepared for the birth, but throughout that entire time, I carried this major fear that I was unable to carry a healthy baby to term. I didn't believe or trust in my body. I went to term, in fact I went over due. When I was a week overdue, I went in to labour. It wasn't the labour I had expected. I didn't trust my body, I didn't trust the process. After 3 days of labour and an epidural I finally gave birth to our beautiful boy, James. He was 10lbs 4 oz and 22 inches long and he was a very healthy baby :)



When James turned one, we decided we were ready to try for a second child. This time I knew my body was capable of growing a healthy baby, but I still lacked confidence in my body's ability to birth the way it was designed to do. From the beginning of my pregnancy I began preparing for the birth. We hired our doula again and decided to go with a midwife instead of a doctor. Throughout my pregnancy we had decided that plan 'A' would be a hospital birth, but if all was going well and we were comfortable, we would be open to a home birth. Again, my due date came and went. This baby was COMFY and NOT ready to come out. I knew this baby was going to be big. James was a big boy and there was no doubt that this one was going to be big too. We set up the birthing pool in our kitchen area so we were ready for when labour began. On Sunday, June 28th (11 days over due) I began nesting like a crazy lady! Of course, I didn't realize that I was nesting, I was just SO pissed off that this baby was still inside and needed to clean in order to get the anger out. My doula asked me if there was any doubts I was having and I told her that I didn't believe that I could do this. She told me to be positive for the rest of the day and to watch some home birth videos on YouTube. I watched them and bawled my eyes out. They were beautiful, I realized that I REALLY wanted to see my baby. I went to have my afternoon nap and woke up 2 hours later at 3:30pm feeling very rested and happy.



I got out of bed and felt like I had to go to the bathroom (I had eaten an entire watermelon the day before in an attempt to empty my bowels and stimulate labour...yes, I was DESPERATE!). I went to the bathroom and went downstairs to continue my nesting. All of a sudden I felt like I had to go to the bathroom again. I went, thinking nothing of it. Finally, after the third trip to the bathroom, I said to Dave "I think I'm having false labour again, I'm going in to the tub to see if anything happens". I grabbed a glass of water and my watch. As I sat in the bath I realized the contractions were coming every 3-4 minutes, lasting about 30-ish seconds, they weren't going away. At that point, I called my doula, she agreed that it sounded like labour and to call her when I needed her. I decided to give my midwife a call and while on the phone with her, I had a few contractions. She decided to come over immediately. Soon after talking to her, I called my doula and asked her to come over. During all of this, Dave was trying to fill the birthing pool and locate my mother-in-law to come get James (she was on the golf course, having an amazing game WITHOUT her cell phone).



My doula arrived and she helped me through a few contractions. It was obvious I was in active labour and was having a lot of trouble getting comfortable in the tub. We decided to move to the bedroom where I laboured on my hands and knees on my exercise ball. Once I moved in to the bedroom I did what I had been preparing so long for...I surrendered. I allowed my body to take over, I simply allowed it all to happen, I didn't fight it, I didn't analyze it, I just was. It was very primal, very raw, very real. It was amazing. My midwife arrived and checked the baby's heart rate, my blood pressure and checked my cervix. I was 6-7 cms with membranes bulging. She said everything was going really well, but this was the point at which we needed to decide whether to stay or go. We called Dave in (who was still trying to fill the birthing pool...he had managed to locate his mom, who had taken James to her house). After a quick discussion between contractions, we decided to stay at home. I felt SO confident in that decision. After our discussion, I went back into myself, simply allowing myself to surrender to the process. I remember at one point looking at our bedroom clock and it said "5:30pm", I thought to myself "I am going to have this baby in the next hour". At 6pm, my midwife checked me again because I had begun to bear down at the peak of my contractions. I was at 10cms with my membranes still bulging. My doula and midwife suggested that I move to the toilet to see if my membranes would rupture while I sat on the toilet. Sure enough, first contraction on the toilet, they ruptured, nice and clear! At that point I felt the ring of fire! Yup, that head was definitely there! I didn't freak out, I didn't think much about it, just continued to follow my body. I tried pushing on the floor, but felt I wasn't able to get my knees wide enough. So I climbed up on the bed and pushed while I laid on my side. At that point the secondary midwife had arrived and they were getting set up for the birth. As I was pushing I had my doula to my right, holding one leg, my primary midwife at the end of the bed, supporting my perineum and the secondary midwife cheering me on. I felt like something was missing. I said "I need Dave" (still filling the birthing pool....) so the three of them all screamed "DAVE!" and he raced in to sit on my left hand side. I recall that time stood still, an out of body experience. After 30 minutes of pushing, Robbie was born. His cord had been wrapped around his neck twice, but the midwife calmly removed it. He was placed immediately on my chest and we hung out and snuggled together. We let the cord finish pulsating and then I cut it. After delivering the placenta the midwives checked me over and told me that I had one small 'scratch' inside my vagina, no actual tears. After some bonding, they did the newborn exam. Robbie was perfect :) When they weighed him, we were all shocked. He weighed 11lbs 14oz and 23 inches long!!! The biggest baby that both midwives had ever delivered at home.



I had done it. Woke up in active labour and gave birth 3 hours later to an almost 12lb baby! I had my birth the way I had wanted it, the way I had NEEDED it. It completely changed me. It gave me confidence in myself that I never knew I had. Now I know who I am. Now I know what I'm capable of. I no longer doubt myself. I believe.

Battle for the vaginal birth

When I was 11 I was told because of my health condition I would likely never have children, unless I were to adopt. I was told this again shortly after I was married. Not a problem, we wanted to adopt anyway. When I was 21 I was late for the first time EVER so I figured, this is it, I must have uterine cancer. I went to the doctor alone because I didn’t want anyone to know yet, especially my new husband. After the doctor revealed the earth shattering news I called my husband and had him come get me. I was sure I was too much in shock to make the short walk home. I got into the car and didn’t say a word. He noticed I was pale and asked why I was there and what happened. I informed him that I was 3 weeks pregnant. He fell absolutely silent for 30 seconds, then said “We’re going to need classical music.”

In the coming months as the pregnancy progressed we were ecstatic and living in bliss with our pending arrival. We were living in a new city for my husband's schooling and had no near by friends or relatives, but we were happy. This was a very small city and they were limited medically, as well as low on prenatal classes, so we were winging it.

 I took an online birth class, and googled pain management but was truly very ignorant of all that is really involved in labour. When my husband graduated he could not find work in his field for 2 months straight. So we packed up, I left the doctor who was following the pregnancy, and moved cities. I was seven months pregnant at the time. When we got moved in we were glad to have friends and family close by again, but it took a little bit to get my prenatal care back on track. I felt like I sort of slipped through the cracks. When I got to see the doctor who was assigned to “catch” my baby he laughed out loud when I told him I wanted a drug free labour and told me “We’ll see how it goes.”

When he took my blood pressure his joking demeanour and the smile on his face quickly faded. He called a nurse in to bring a different cuff and tried again. He shook his head and rubbed his chin at the results and sent us to the hospital immediately. Upon arrival my terrified husband and I were told that I had pre-eclampsia and that the baby and I were in great danger. They would need to induce me right then. It was already evening and visiting hours were coming to an end. They forced my husband to go home, leaving me alone, and scared in the hospital. In my past I was sexually assaulted and am terrified of any kind of vaginal exam as a result. So it was hard when I had to allow a medical student to insert that tab that softens the cervix. He wrapped the string around and around put it in.. I didn’t think that was right, but thought he must know what he is doing he is a medical student, I am just a patient.

Labour progressed through the night. They strapped a fetal monitor on me. And gave me a pitocin drip. I didn’t sleep a wink. I wasn’t offered any food, but I could drink small amounts of water. My husband came back as soon as he was able and I felt better with him by my side. I relaxed a little and as I did, my contractions got stronger and more painful. I did what felt natural and was moaning through them. I was informed by an irritated nurse that I had to be quieter because this was a shared room, and I might be bothering the other women. So, completely ashamed, I stopped making noises. Hours went by and I was checked by a no non-sense nurse.

I tried to tell her I was afraid of vaginal exams but she became annoyed quickly and scolded “Stop crying!” as she forced her way in to check. Finally I was able to go into the delivery wing. There was a wonderful nurse there. She was so motherly and calming. I felt myself calm down and relax. I thought I had to have a bowel movement and went to the bathroom to try to go. The nurse recognised this and had me come out and on to the bed where I can be checked and wait for the doctor. While we waited, the wonderful nurse was off shift and another nurse came in with the same no nonsense nurse as before. She checked me much in the same manor, only this time said over her shoulder to the other nurse “This one is a crier”, then looked back to me “You are not going to cry this time are you?” and they were both laughing about it. I was too embarrassed to do anything else but laugh with them. I cried again during the check. When my doctor finally arrived he noticed in my charts that I had that insert. He decided it was time to take it out. Fine, accept he couldn’t find it, so the nurse tries, she can’t find it. A different nurse tries and also cant find it. This is sheer agony for me, and I loose track of how many people are looking for it in me, and of how long it took. I only became aware of my surroundings again when the doctor was repeating my name until he got my attention and showed me they had finally found it.

Then the doctor buzzes around the room and looks at the foetal monitor charts, and my contractions, and tells me that My baby is probably too big and I may need a c-section. I declined and he offered me an epidural, again I declined. Then he said they would break my water to help the baby drop as she was still very high up there. Once that was done they discovered there was meconium in the amniotic fluid. My doctor said they would need to do a c-section. My throat felt like it was getting too tight and it was hard to breath. I didn’t know what was happening, I just knew I DID NOT want a c-section.

 I remembered somewhere in my research reading about having a whole 24 hours to deliver a baby once waters have broken. I brought this up and my doctor reluctantly agreed “for now” and offered me an epidural before leaving. I declined then he left. I thought this would be a good time to let the night nurse know my wishes for my baby after she is born. I requested that I be allowed bonding time with my baby before the weighing, eye gouping, and cleaning. I told her I wanted to breast feed right away and for my baby never to have a bottle or formula or to be taken to the nursery. This seemed to make the nurse very irate, as if I were undermining her or something. She puffed up her chest, jutted out her jaw and gave a half laugh and said “We will take your baby to the nursery if needed and we will giver her a bottle of formula. That is what happens in the nursery” the tight feeling was back and I thought I couldn’t breathe.

The nurse went on to explain about different procedures that would prevent my wishes. She then went on to talking about how they will do a c-section if needed. The tight feeling got even worse and she called the doctor back in. He examined me and said if I wasn’t able to calm down they would need to do a c-section. My husband held my hand tightly and that was all I thought about for a moment. Just the feeling of his strong, sure hands on mine. They then offered me an epidural yet again but with the promise that it would help us all to relax. I finally agreed. They missed on the first try and tried again. They and got it. The doctor left, and my poor husband was fainting. It occurred to me he hadn’t eaten since he got there that morning, and it was coming on to 10:00pm. I sent him to get food, then passed out for a little bit. I came to when the night nurse was taking blood pressure I asked her for water, but she refused. I hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours and hadn’t had water in about 16 hours. To this day my husband and I are not sure why, but she then began to continue our discussion from before about how they would take my baby if needed and give her a bottle. I began to have trouble breathing again then my husband asserted himself, for the first time since I met him. He angrily asked the nurse why she was telling us all of this. The nurse seemed slightly taken back, then snapped “I need a smoke!” and left.

I was informed that my doctor went home for the night and a new doctor would be taking over. I waited for what seemed like forever to meet him. I went into that labour-land trance where you are pretty sure you are going to die. I don’t know how long this lasted, but the doctor finally came. He suggested a c-section. The night nurse quickly responded that my doctor thought it would be best, but I was able to focus enough to tell him no I wanted a vaginal birth. But my voice sounded so far away and lost in time. Then I remember the night doctor was looking directly in my eyes and calling my name. I focused enough to hear him. He was saying that if I was going to make it through this, I needed to look in his eyes and only there. He told me it was time to push.

I began to push. It was 2:03 in the morning. I pushed, laying on my back, in a semi sitting position with my husband holding one leg and the night nurse on the other. I pushed when they said to for as long as they said to. I was pretty sure my brain was going to explode. All I could here was the blood loudly rushing in my ears. My eyes felt as if they would burst. They announced the baby was crowning. They asked me to push harder than ever before, as I was in the middle of pushing when I felt sudden, searing hot pain and I screamed loudly. I was harshly reprimanded by the night nurse not to make noise. Then the doctor seemed to panic and said “We need to help her out!” He grabbed the forceps and without warning or asking me ripped my baby out of me. It was 2:16. She was quickly whisked away to a table in the corner while the NICU team assessed her. After lots of suctioning she cried. She was alive. She weighed 8lbs even, they reported.

 I asked my husband to go be with her as they stitched me up. When he spoke, I realized it was the first time since she was born. The NICU team informed us that when my husband spoke our daughter actually turned her head towards him. (she is still a daddy’s girl to this day) As they stitched me up, my husband brought my daughter to me, I held her in my arms and I knew that we had won the battle. In a world of doctors and nurses that said I couldn’t, I did. With the help of God and my own determination, my new family and I fought and won!