I discovered many women there discussing important issues and sharing their voices. I have contributed to these conversations on several occasions and was looking through my posts there the other day. I found an old comment I left on a thread about doulas and felt like this may be an important story to share here.
This is my birth story. Giving birth is one of the most rewarding and empowering things we can do as women. But this story also reminded me how important it is to remember that it is our inner power that gives us the strength to complete such a wonderful and trying journey.
We must always remember to nourish this inner strength so that we remain these incredibly powerful women throughout the rest of our lives. Raising great kids is going to take all the energy, courage and fortitude we can get our hands on.
Please excuse any spelling or grammer errors in the story below. It was written in haste and without editing.
With and Without a Doula
I have had two completely different birthing experiences, one with a doula and one without.
The birth of my daughter was one of the most tramatic experiences of my life. For my entire prenatal period, I had a doctor that I loved and we had a very detailed plan that we had worked out together for months. Unfortunately, nothing would go as planned.
This is a good lesson in itself. No matter how well you plan, be just as prepared for nothing to go the way you think it will.
The thing is, when you go to a doctor that is part of a group, the chances that that doctor will deliver your baby is very low, unless you go into labor during office hours. I’m sure this has worked out fine for many women but for me, it was the middle of the night both times.
The doctor that was on call when I went into labor with my daughter was really unfortunate. My water had broke and labor was slow to start. I had had my appendix out six weeks earlier (yeah, 34 weeks pregnant and a totally different story) and she basically told me that I was high risk and would be treated as such, even though my doctor had told me as long as I had gone six weeks past surgery, I would be considered normal.
What this meant is that I was monitored the whole time and she only gave me a short period for labor to begin before she gave me pitocin. I just felt rushed and unsupported by her for my entire labor. I felt like she was just chomping at the bit to cut me open, not the most nurturing birthing environment.
My doula was very good at keeping me as calm as possible through this whole thing and keeping me informed of what was going on and why certain decisions were being made, but my anxiety level was very high and the pitocin contractions were extremely painful.
The short version of the story is that eventually, during pushing, my daughter started to dcell and then they lost her heartbeat. Then there was panic and rushing around and throwing of scrubs and I was screaming, it was terrible. When we got to the operating room, they hooked her up to the monitor and she was totally fine, but the doctor insisted on continuing with the c-section. While they were upping my epidural to the correct levels, I continued to push (as you can’t stop), with the help of my nurse and eventually, I took control and demanded that she let me try to push her out before she proceeds with the c-section as she was fully crowning and her heartrate was fine. She gave me three pushes and I was luckily able to push her out. The whole operating room broke out in cheers.
Although having a doula was a nice additive to my experience, she was not allowed in the operating room and was able to do little to prevent my bad experience. I am in no way saying that doulas can’t be a great help and I felt like my doula did a great job given the circumstances, but when it comes down to it, it is all about your own sense of power and peace and the relationship with your doctor.
I also give a ton of credit to my nurse. She was amazing and stayed with me through the end, even though her shift had ended. She empowered me and from working with that doctor (who it was pretty clear that most of the nurses didn’t like working with) many times before, she was knowledgable about how to deal with this doctor and helped me to get what I needed in spite of her.
In the end, my daughters birth was very empowering and she was healthy and beautiful and that is all the really matters.
When I got pregnant with my son, I took a totally different approach. I was determined that if I had anything to say about it, that doctor was never going to come anywhere near me again. Unfortunately, this meant that I had to leave my doctor, who I totally loved.
Having several experiences in the maternity ward at my hospital (my daughter’s birth and I spent a week there after my apendix operation), I was confident with the nursing care and quality of the facility.
For me, it really came down to finding the right practice. All the doctors in the practice must be on the same page as you when it comes to your needs during labor. With a group of doctors who share on call duties, you will never be sure of what doctor will be there to deliver your baby.
I was fortunate that I found a doctor I trusted and who would for sure deliver my baby the second time around. He has an individual practice and delivers 97% of his own babies. He goes on vacation once a year and as long as you aren’t due during that time, you can almost be certain he will be there with you.
My first birth was so dramatic and stressful that the second time, I just wanted calm. I wanted to enjoy the birthing experience and embrace motherhood in a way that I was denied the last time. I did end up choosing an epidural, but was not pressured or deterred in any way. This time around the decisions were mine, with the understanding that if things got really bad, he would have to take over. That I could live with.
I am very narrow through my pelvis and my babies are big and therefore, they have a little trauma coming through the birth canal. My son’s birth was no different in this matter, but I didn’t even really know anything was wrong. My doctor was calm and cool through the whole thing and found the perfect balance of telling me this was serious and I had to push with no resting, without making me feel scared at all.
My son was born healthy, happy, huge and in a hurry.
I am so glad that I have that experience as the freshest and most prominent in my mind.
I agree that birth done the wrong way can be increadibly tramatic and with lasting effects. I was so jumpy and scared going into it the second time.
But, I am glad that I took charge of my pregnancy and birthing experience and did what I needed to make sure I wasn’t in the same situation again.
My advice, find a doctor you trust in a practice that as a whole gels with your belief system and what you desire from your delivery. Take every opportunity you can to meet with as many of the doctors in the practice as you can and also make sure that the hospital you are going to has practices and rules that you agree with and a top notch nursing staff. If having your plan followed through on and your doctor there with you, then do your best to choose someone who delivers a very high percentage of their babies.
Ask questions, be up front with what you need and don’t be afraid to change course if necessary.
As far as doula’s go, after having one with me the first time, I didn’t feel it was necessary the second time. But, my husband was amazing during labor and I was confident enough the second time to be my own advocate and I trusted my doctor implicitly.
I think every birth and every individual is completely unique and doula’s can be an excellent resourse and a great help.
The Redesigned Mom
A Stay at Home Mom’s Journey to Self Fulfillment
Submitted by redesignedmom on Sat, 10/04/2008 – 14:40
Yesterday I thought I was getting sick. Weirdest thing, my nose ran non-stop causing a barrage of sneezes that I thought were going to drive me out of my mind. Then I popped a 101 fever with terrible aches and pains for about an hour and then it was gone. Totally bizarre.
Today, Ian tripped and conked his ear on the coffee table, which threw me into my injury panic and now I am feeling so run down. My flight instinct kicks in. I just want to crawl into a hole. Hmmm.
I also received what I hope is the final final email exchange. I thought that had happened a couple of weeks ago but my email filter failed and there it was in my inbox. I guess she just had to have the final word.
I’m not really feeling sad about the whole situation anymore though. The email was just one more reminder why my decision was the right one.
I am still having a hard time controlling the physical anger reaction I get when i think about the whole thing, though. Even though I rationally know and understand my feelings and what the situation means to me, my body just isn’t there yet.
I think my body is overloaded with it’s own response chemicals right now. My response? Wallow and eat.
Joy, aren’t I inspiring.
Until a better day…
You see, I pass out. I pass out when I hurt myself. I pass out when other people hurt themselves. I pass out when people on TV hurt themselves (no ER – the TV show – for me). I pass out when other people talk about hurting themselves. I pass out when I work too hard and eat too little. I even pass out for no apparent reason.
It is some function of my low blood pressure, I think. I don’t really know. I am definately going to bring it up with my therapist and my doctor though because after yesterday, I need to do something.
Because of this, my worst fear as a parent is that something will happen to my kids and I won’t be able to help them.
And this fear is not unjustified. I have been lucky up until now that there has been someone there to help me.
But yesterday, I was all by myself.
I am not going to go into details about what happened because it just isn’t important to this story. The short of it was that he hurt himself badly enough that I felt we needed to go to the ER and that he is just fine. An x-ray and an ace bandage and he acts like nothing ever happened. While he flirted with nurses, I quietly tried to calm myself and fight back the tears.
But I did it. All by myself, without anyone to help me and without actually losing conciousness. I did have to pull the car over once to avoid passing out and wrecking the car, but we got there.
I called Karli right after it happened and he left work immediately to meet me at the hospital. I can’t even tell you how much I needed him right then. I just kept telling myself that he would be there soon and I just had to make it a few more minutes. Little did I know that he was stuck in traffic and wouldn’t arrive until we were leaving the hospital two hours later. There was no phone service in the hospital so I wasn’t getting his calls and couldn’t send a text message. I can’t imaging sitting in traffic, not knowing what was going on. He was so scared.
But, the fact that it took him two hours to go a distance it should have taken him no more than 45 minutes to go in the worst traffic confirms that I was meant to go this one alone.
Although I think I passed the test, this was minor and there was no blood. I can’t help but think what might have happened if…
What I do know is that it is time for me to figure out why I do this and try to fix it if I can.
The work never stops or even takes a break, huh?
If you know me, then you know this is not a normal state for me, even on a good day.
I even found myself busting a move and doing the humpty hump
in the car on the way to the gym tonight (yes, both on the radio in one 15 minute car ride, can you believe it?) . All I needed was Funky Cold Medina
and it would have been a party. What the?
I just feel lighter. I feel like my life is waiting and I don’t want to miss another moment.
I have been to hell and back over this last six months and I finally feel like I have turned some sort of corner.
I approach this new mood with cautious optimism and an open heart.
As if it were a sign or something, I heard the following four songs all in a row. Three on random shuffle as I climbed the last brutal hill of a 45 minute treadmill session and one happened to be on when I got in the car and hit CD on the stereo.
Dare You To Move – Switchfoot*
Unwell – Matchbox 20
Away From The Sun – 3 Doors Down
Say- John Mayer
As I drove up the hill a tear of fullness crept from my eye, brought there by John Mayer’s Say.
”Have no fear for giving in. Have no fear for giving over. You better know that in the end it’s better to say too much that to never say what you need to say. Even if your hands are shaking and your faith is broken. Even as the eyes are closing. Do it with a heart wide open. Say what you need to say. Say what you need to say.”
Yes, I know it’s cheesy and a little over the top. But really, can you ignore this kind of day?
*Yeah, yeah, I know.
this very cool new product was highlighted.
Now, I haven’t tried it, but since I am such an advocate of making your own baby food and I thought this was something I would have loved to have, I just had to mention it. It is simply a very innovative and mention worthy new product. I love it when people think outside the box.
The Beaba Babycook Baby Food Maker is the latest in baby food mills.
What’s different about this one is that you can put the food in and steam it and then when it is finished cooking, turn the blender on and blend it to the desired consistency right in the same container. You can also use it to defrost or warm the baby food when your done.
The one thing that stands out as a flaw in this product is the small bowl size (2.5 cups) If you wanted to make big batches to freeze, this could be a hinderance. But, if Super Baby Food or The Sneaky Chef
is your thing, then this just may be the perfect new gadget for you.
More Baby Puree Recipe Books
