My Birth Story

When I got pregnant with my daughter, I was excited and scared all at once. This was something I had wanted for a long time but now that it had happened I was all of a sudden fearful that I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know much about birth and only really had two stories that I had heard. My mom’s…who had a very traumatic birth with my sister, and a friend’s…who had a wonderful birth experience. When I tried to discuss birth with my mom, she didn’t want to talk about it… 30 years later and it still brought up a lot of bad memories for her. When I would hear bits and pieces of my friend’s story, I thought this is what I want for myself. I want a loving birth experience that involves me and my baby working together to bring her into this world. This is what I dreamed of, this is what I thought I was going to have.

To prepare for our birth, my husband suggested we hire a doula…this wasn’t something I knew very much about and I was reluctant to the idea. But it was something he really wanted to do, as he had met a couple doulas through his schooling and was amazed by the stories they told. In our search for a doula, it felt like it was very hard to find someone. My husband didn’t want to use the women he knew through school, as they were his instructors, and he wasn’t comfortable having a doula relationship with them (I wasn’t either). So we phoned a woman whose name we found on the internet. Unfortunately she wasn’t able to take us but suggested we meet with her partner. We did and I wasn’t overly convinced that this was for me. But we had had such a hard time finding her name that I thought there is no way we are going to find anyone else that will be able to take us, so we hired her as our doula. We met with her twice before the birth and both times my instincts were telling me this isn’t the woman for us, but I ignored them. I didn’t feel like she was providing the information we need to get through this birth…it felt more like she was simply pushing her opinions on us and putting down the medical model…the place where I had decided I wanted to have my baby. I did not feel safe, I felt scared. I feared what was going to happen once I set foot in the hospital…this evil place she talked about. My husband and I both felt like this wasn’t how we are suppose to feel with a doula…but all the research says you benefit from having the support of one during your birth…so it must be right…

I woke up around 5:00 on a Monday morning, not feeling so great. I had lots of cramps and I just new something was happening. I was really excited. That day, my husband and I did some errands and just enjoyed the day and the thought that this baby might actually be coming. Later in the afternoon, I lost my mucus plug…so I thought our baby is going to be here soon. I had a doctor’s appointment already scheduled for that day, so when we got there, my doctor checked me, only to inform me my cervix was still tightly closed and that some women can lose their mucus plug a week before they actually go into labor. I was very disappointed.

I did start having contractions late Monday evening. They were pretty mild and my husband and I spend that night trying to get some sleep, which was impossible for me as I was pretty uncomfortable. By morning, I was exhausted by the lack of sleep and the contractions were starting to get stronger. I was starting to feel like I wasn’t sure I could do this anymore, I really just wanted to sleep. So we decided to call our doula for some extra support. She arrived about an hour later and I can honestly say I do not remember what she did to comfort me. I don’t think she really spoke to me or touched me or gave me the reassurance I needed. What I remember is she was suppose to start a new job that day, so she spent some time on the phone trying to sort that out. She also spent time on the phone talking with her kids. When she wasn’t on the phone, she talked to my husband about the divorce she was going through. I was thinking, I wish you would be quiet and just leave us alone. I could see my husband felt torn between supporting me and listening to her. I just wanted her to leave. I eventually retreated to the shower, where my husband and I could just concentrate on getting through the contractions. Our doula was sitting out in the living room and all I could think about was what was she doing, I should be trying to involve her or entertain her or something.

Early in the afternoon, my contractions really started to slow down. I was feeling nauseas and my husband and our doula were telling me to eat something and drink water but I just didn’t want to. My stomach didn’t feel like it could take it. Our doula said labor will sometimes slow down for some women and that it is a great time to take a rest, so she left and I tried to sleep. But something didn’t feel right and I told my husband I wanted to go to the hospital.

At the hospital, it was determined that I was pretty dehydrated, so they hooked me up to an IV. Then came the fetal monitoring which showed that the baby was in distress…although no one explained to us why or how they came to this conclusion. The next thing I knew I wasn’t allowed to take in anymore fluids by mouth and I heard the word cesarean and the nurse telling me “its not about you anymore, it’s only about the baby”. What does that mean? What I feel is right doesn’t count? The on call doctor showed up and checked me…only 2-3cm dilated. How is that possible...I have been having contractions for the past 16 hours and I am tired. She broke my water, I felt like crawling off the table. There was some meconium.

Breaking my water did speed up my labor, along with the help of the pitocin. I can’t remember consenting to pitocin…but I must have…I was feeling so trapped. Tied to the bed with monitors and all these people around me, my husband way across the room. I can’t reach him. The resident obstetrician, is saying the anesthesiologist is here and can give me an epidural…but I don’t want one…I never asked for one. But she says just let her talk to you. Ok…maybe I should…I don’t think I can do this anymore, I can’t move, I can’t handle this pain. Why isn’t anyone helping me, why are they just making it worse? We called our doula, but when she gets there I am getting the epidural. As I wait for the needle, I am thinking, I feel so much better now that I can sit up.

The epidural kicks in and I feel relief, I can now sleep. Our doula goes home…I don’t really want her there anyway. We are suppose to call her if we need her…but we don’t…I didn’t want to. So much for sleep, with all the monitors hooked up to me. All through the night all I can feel is my sore back from being stuck in bed and the blood pressure monitor going off every 20 minutes. How am I suppose to sleep?
Early Wednesday morning…I am fully dilated and it is finally time to push. My husband and I are so excited. The moment to meet our baby has finally arrived. I can’t wait for them to lay her on my belly and for me to see and cuddle her for the first time. To see her naked little body, that has just come out of me. I push with everything in me, thinking I am doing such a great job. Vacuum? Already…I have barely pushed…I can do this, I don’t need that vacuum. The resident doctor fumbles with it over and over again; she can’t get it attached to the baby’s head. I want to tell her to stop but I can’t speak. The doctor is checking me, she can’t tell which way the baby’s head is turned. I wish everyone would stop touching me. The doctor says she has to go get the obstetrician. I want to try a different pushing position but she says wait until the obstetrician comes in. She is here, she doesn’t even say hi. She is checking me, I am told to push again. I push so hard, I know I can push this baby out. I look up and the room is full of faces…it feels like at least 20. Forceps? I never consented to forceps…I don’t want them. I look at my husband for answers…he looks shocked and scared. I am pushing but they are pulling me off the table, I can’t push like this. It all stops, I feel overwhelmed, violated. I am shaking and crying as they stitch me up. I didn’t even know they cut me. The doctor says we have to have a cesarean…I cry. They all leave the room, to let me and my husband discuss. Why are they not in a rush now…they were in such a rush to deliver the baby a couple minutes ago. Why didn’t I get to push longer before they intervened? The doctor comes back in and says we can try pushing again if you like. I am too exhausted, so we wait 45 minutes to have a cesarean…I am sure I am going to sleep through it, I am so tired.

At 10:14 on Wednesday morning our beautiful little girl was born by cesarean. I didn’t get to see her naked little body being born or cuddle her on my chest, but when they told me she had arrived I was still overwhelmed with joy that I now had a daughter. The next few days were rough. It was difficult connecting with my little girl right away, because I couldn’t take care of her the way I wanted to. But my husband was amazing. He nurtured me back to health and he gave our little girl what I couldn’t. My daughter and I eventually found our rhythm and she is the best thing that ever happened to us. My husband and I have struggled through our experience and still are, but he has been an amazing support to me and it has brought us very close as a family. We have learned so much from our daughter…who knew her arrival was going to teach us more then we can probably ever teach her in her lifetime.