Homebirth Reflections (4 months later)

After the adrenaline of birth and with plenty of time for pondering, I bring you the aforepromised homebirth reflections:

My sweet midwife Audrey told us the first time she met us that once we had a homebirth, we would never want to go back to hospital birthing. She was right. I think I could handle a freestanding birth center but an average hospital… only if my health or my child’s were at risk.

I labored for 8 or 10 hours with Kate’s birth before I went to the OB/GYN to be monitored. Once I stepped in the doctor’s office door, my birth experience was in her hands. They hooked me up to the monitor and discovered with each contraction, Kate’s heartrate dipped and came back up just a second slower than the protocol. Through the entire labor and delivery, it always returned strong, but there was the protocol and it was not fitting the mold. I was admitted to the hospital though my contractions were still 7 minutes apart and 30 seconds long, my water was broken, I was put in embarrasing hospital clothes, wedged in bed, told I may need an emergency C-section at any moment, poked no less than 5 times trying to get an IV (which was eventually inserted in my hand.) I was black and blue, scared, unable to move and in pain. I asked for an epidural. I felt defeated, not because I had pain medication, but because I felt like I was a bystander in this medical process that was being managed around and within me. The delivery was easy (two good pushes) and I had a beautiful baby girl to show for it, but something was lacking.

My homebirth was so much less stressful. I moved around, I talked to people I cared about, I wore what was comfortable, I called the midwife when I felt she needed to come, she came and listened to the hearttones, checked my cervix only once, and let me labor. I do NOT have a high tolerance for pain, but as my contractions progressed I used the tub, laid in a comfy, queen sized bed held by my husband, slow-danced and always considered them manageable and not in any way excruciating. What the Bible describes as the pains and pangs of childbirth didn’t occur until the last three minutes of pushing. I remember it hurting and I remember saying “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” It was truly like John 16:21 describes it: “When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” I don’t remember the pain itself, only that I did experience some. I felt empowered and involved, in tune with my body, not in control, but ceding control to a process that God had designed and not to any person or institution.

After Lexi was born, she was ours. No nurses, no machines, just Michael and I and our newborn. No eye ointment to prevent an infection she can’t get. No shots. It was a peaceful entry into the world and her grandmother swears her peaceful, happy demeanor must have some root in her calm birth.

I sent Audrey a thank you gift a few months ago, and as I was writing her note I realized that I had no regrets about my homebirth. Not one. It was astonishing because there are so few things in my life I can say that about. It was as close to perfect as childbirth can be.

Here is the birth story I wrote the day after, if you missed it then.