More Babies Prefer Home Birth

Well, I’ve read a few of the other stories posted here and I’m afraid that I’m not as eloquent a writer as the others, but I will attempt to summarize my experience. I’m a mother of 2 beautiful children, son almost 5 and daughter almost 2, both homebirthed with midwives in two different states.

When I was pregnant with our son, I was working full-time and my boss had just had a baby the year before. She of course had an epidural and was then subsequently “forced” into a c-section because of fetal distress. From the moment that I knew that I was pregnant, I didn’t want to end up with her type of experience, especially being forced down a path of intervention that the mother has no control over. She of course was happy with her experience and even ended up with a second child a few years later with a planned c-section. But I knew that it was not the right plan for me. I was not aware of the options and stressing over it once day when my dearest friend and second mother told me that a home birth was possible with the midwife that her daughter-in-law had. I was instantly intrigued and had to learn more.

I did some research and contacted the midwife. I met her at her office which was more like a home inside. It was softly lit with furniture (futon) and pillows instead of an exam table. I was instantly hooked. She explained more of herself and what she does and assured me that I could think about it more and get back to her if I chose her. I told her immediately that I didn’t need to think about it more, I would never chose a hospital birth over her in a million years!

Well, that’s how it began. All throughout the pregnancy, the midwife was wonderful. The birth was more painful that I had anticipated, but I chose to surround myself with girlfriends that loved me to massage my lower back through contractions. My husband was behind me also, although reluctant to participate, he was gently encouraged by everyone there to share a role. (He was afraid of blood and all things womanly, which is quite funny coming from such a strong manly man). Our son was born perfect in a most awesome way. I will never forget the women that were a part of my most momentous life changing time.

The pregnancy and birth of our daughter occurred 3 years later in a new state and home 2,000 miles away from where we had our established life. After having such a wonderful homebirth, I could never think of doing anything but that again. Since I didn’t know anyone that had a midwife here, I searched online the website for the Wisconsin Guild of Midwives. From there, I picked a few that I intended on contacting.

But then, I got a call from an old friend that was pregnant with her second and didn’t want a hospital birth again. So I gave the names of the midwives that I was thinking of for myself to her. She found a midwife that wonderful. I met her also and so began another chapter in my life.

This pregnancy was different, yet in some ways better since I was not quite so unsure of everything. When things happened, I wasn’t so surprised. This time, I was not working full-time and was better able to get more rest and take care of myself, even though I had an active and energetic toddler that demanded attention.

We napped together and went to the bathroom to pee together, (he was potty-trained that summer, since I had to pee a lot, it was only natural to remind him to go too). The birth was different from the first, yet had similarities. I had back labor again and relied on the massaging hands of my sister. I wanted our son to be part of the birth, but our daughter chose to be born around midnight and I felt it was more important for our son to get to sleep a full night.

Our daughter was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, just like our son was also. But that didn’t affect them. Both nursed within a hour of birth and continued nursing for over 14 months.

I breastfed because I knew that it was the best thing to do. It was the way our Creator designed us to do, why would I purposely go against it? I didn’t pre-determine the length of time that I was going to nurse them. I took one day at a time. With both, I had cracked and bleeding nipples followed by mastitis, one form with the first and the other form with the second.

I wouldn’t trade it with formula for any reason. I just kept going, knowing that I was going to get better and it did. Then breastfeeding became the best time that I had with my babies.

We are not currently planning on a third child, but if that happens, I would without question, have a homebirth, for my health and my baby’s.

by Marlene Waechter

My first child, Sean had been a “natural” hospital birth in 1971. This time, in 1977 we planned a home birth, even though we couldn’t find a midwife. My first labor had only three hours long, unnecessarily and unmercifully augmented by Pitocin. I thought this would be a longer labor, since it would be un-enhanced by Pitocin. I had been having irregular warm-up contractions for several weeks, when one day I awoke with a strong clean-the-nest urge. I tried to make a phone call, only to discover ours was not working. I hiked across the soybean field to a neighbor to call the repairman. (My how times change!) The phone company assured me the repairman would be out within 48 hours. 48 hours! I wanted my phone fixed NOW! I could go into labor at any time. I needed to be able to call my husband, other support people, maybe even 911! Back home, I fumed and paced anxiously. How could the phone company be so nonchalant about something so important? I remarked to my mom, wh! o was visiting at the time, “I don’t understand why I’m so edgy. I feel transition-y and I’m not even in labor yet!”
Several hours later the repairman came and promptly got bit by our dog! I apologized, cleaned and bandaged the wound; he fixed the phone and went on to his next stop. I then got in the tub for a much needed relaxing bath. At 5 pm, just as I was getting out, I felt an urgency, and sat on the toilet just as my water broke. Immediately I started having strong contractions every two to three minutes, with barely a breath in between. I went to call my husband, but couldn’t stand still long enough or concentrate on the numbers long enough to even get it dialed, let alone talk. Mom made the calls, while I went to lie down, to concentrate on relaxing and breathing through these all-consuming contractions.
Meanwhile, my husband, Terry had already left work, but had several errands to do on his way home. Mom caught him at the grocery store checkout. At this point, we figured we had at least several hours of labor before the birth would happen, so he finished waiting in line and going through the checkout. In between contractions I barked orders at my mom… “Boil water … for the scissors…. hot compress… press harder… too cold… down lower…” I never again experienced the painful contractions like I had with my first, but these were POWERFUL! It took my utmost concentration to remain relaxed through them. I thought of how Moses must have felt at the Burning Bush. These feelings were so much greater than any power that could possibly be generated by my body or my baby’s. I was feeling the awesome power of God, touching me, surging through my body with each contraction. It felt wonderful and holy. I was thrilled to part of such a great miracle! Each contraction caused ecstasy, not pain. If I hadn’t been so sure of the source of the power, I would have been very scared. But, like Moses, I recognized the power of the Holy Spirit and was totally open to receiving this glorious power. I felt humbled and honored to be co-creator of this sweet soul that was about to make its entrance. By 6 pm, only one hour into labor, I had an overwhelming urge to push. It couldn’t be time to push already, could it? Where was my husband? I he was on his way home, but how close? I tried hard to let go of my attachment to him catching his baby, and relax so it could come whenever it needed. I was not alone; God & my mom were there, after all. I felt a new sensation… the head was crowning. Terry walked in, arms full of groceries, he dropped them, put out his hands (cold and unwashed!) just in time for Becky to slide into them at 6:10 pm. How sweet that God heard my desire for my husband and got him there just in time, and not a minute to soon! As! I heard him come through the door, I felt a wave of relaxatio! n wash o ver me. It was only then that I realized how much tension I was holding, even though I thought I was staying relaxed.

…

Fast forward to 1979. I had no periods since Becky’s birth, so we were guessing my due date by fundal height and other observations. Once again, I had plenty of practice contractions in the weeks preceding the birth. I had resigned myself to being ready to birth anywhere, at anytime during February or March. My birth supplies went everywhere with me.
The morning of Feb. 20th started out the same as many others. Becky woke up early and crawled into our bed for her early morning nursing fix. I stirred long enough to change her diaper, then snuggled down with her and soon dozed off again. At 8:40 am I awoke to a sharp contraction. Becky was still nursing, not wanting to disturb her; I thought I’d lie there just a little longer before I got up. Next thing I knew, I was being awakened by another contraction. It was 9 am. I quickly dozed off again, I was used to having these Braxton-Hicks contractions. At 9:20 am, the same thing happened again. I thought to myself, 20 minutes apart, at this rate, if this even were real labor, I’d be doing it all day! Since Becky was still nursing strong, I decided to stay in bed a little longer, since she was such a bear when I tried to detach her. Next thing I knew I was awakened again, this time with the uncomfortable urge to use the bathroom. This time finally fully awake, I looke! d at my watch; it was 9:40 already! I suddenly realized there was supposed to be a midwives meeting at my house at 10:30, it was 9:40, Becky & and I weren’t even dressed, or had the living room vacuumed, or done anything to get ready, and now I had to poop! Yikes! I called my neighbor, Kate, and asked her to run over and help me clean house for the meeting. Then, into the bathroom just in time for some cleansing diarrhea that so often precedes labor. Becky is now awake, trying to climb on my lap to nurse again. I call my husband to come home I just can’t handle everything at the same time, and it all needs to be done now, and I can’t even get off the toilet! What’s keeping Kate?! I plop Becky down at the kitchen table with a bowl of Toasty-O’s, and run back to the bathroom. This time when I wipe, I see some bloody show. Wondering if I’ve started to dilate, I check myself. I didn’t have any cervix left, just a head and a bulging bag of water! I call the midw! ives, but they are already on their way to my house for the me! eting an d can’t get there any sooner in any case. With that, my water breaks… poop or no, I’m not about to have this baby on the toilet, so I waddle back into the bedroom and plop myself on the bed. Then I remember the underpads, but I just can’t get up again. I am suddenly overtaken by contraction of tidal wave proportions! I think I better get the pad on the bed before I make a mess, the scissors still need to be boiled, so many things to do! This time there is no one to bark orders at. I pray, “Oh God, please let someone come through that door to help me, I don’t care who it is!” With that there is a knock. I can’t get up to answer it, but holler out, “Come in, come here, who’s there?” It’s Kate and her 3 yo, Mikey. She walks into the bedroom to see a head of dark hair crowning at my bottom, not at all what she was expecting to see! She just had time to wash her hands and get a pad under me before catching Rachel at 10:10 am. At 10:20, Terry and my midwife! partner show up. 10:30 am. on the nose, the rest of the midwives arrive just on time for the meeting. Needless to say, we didn’t get a lot of business but the bare essentials done at that meeting! Once again, God provided me with the help I needed, just as I needed it, and not a moment before.

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Fast-forward again to 1987. I was now expecting my 7th. My longest labor thus far had been 4 hours. My shortest 70 minutes. I prayed for God to give me enough warning to get my whole family and the midwives to my house in time. When my water broke, I called the midwives right away, thinking surely contractions would start and we’d have a baby shortly. Wrong! My midwives had to make phone calls to rearrange their schedules and babysitters. None of us expected it to take nearly this long. My husband was getting worried that something was wrong for it to take me so long. I reassured him that many women labor this long and longer. I thanked God for sparing me such a long labor so many times before, but I also thanked him for the opportunity to actually go through a long exhausting labor myself, in order to better serve others going through it. Every once in a while God does something to keep me humble! Evidently I needed a lesson on patience and empathy. Also a lesson on! being careful what you pray for, since God really does answer prayers. I got it. To lighten the mood and dispel fears, I sang, “The Ole’ Grey Mare, she ain’t what she used to be” between contractions. Jessi finally made her appearance after 20 hours of labor, including 3 hours of pushing, longer than some of my previous entire labors!

This is an excerpt from my book, “The Joyful Mysteries of Childbirth” coming soon!

{If you would like to submit your home birth story, use the form provided at right!}