The Natural Birth of Baby G

The story of G's birth really starts in the months before he was born. I had been thrilled to find that our move to Pittsburgh put us within range of The Midwife Center here, where I could get care from women who would support my desires for a natural birth and educate me about how such a birth could be achieved. My first son's birth had left me feeling unsatisfied and looking back it could easily have become a very traumatic experience, being so highly "managed" by obstetricians who rolled their eyes at my desires for natural birthing, and who made me labor in bed, partially reclined (no wonder I couldn't breathe and needed oxygen!), attached to monitors and an IV, and scared and loopy from a dose of Stadol.

Unfortunately, my midwives are required to answer to a board of directors and obstetricians, and because of my large weight gain and the possibility of a big baby, one of the back-up doctors suggested an ultrasound "just to make sure everything was OK". That was the beginning of several weeks of stress and anxiety leading up to the birth of my baby. The ultrasound revealed a "macrosomic" (too big) baby, and the OB who saw the ultrasound strongly urged induction. When I refused, he rolled his eyes and said "Well, I guess I'll see you in the operating room, then". I drove home weeping and angry. Having done my research with this pregnancy, I was determined that I would not permit induction. So I put up with weekly non-stress tests and another ultrasound and relied on my husband to help me bear up under the pressure that was put on me, eventually even by the midwives.

When my pregnancy approached 42 weeks, they seemed to feel it necessary to let me know of all the horrible things that could happen to the baby if it wasn't born "in time". When my pregnancy passed the 42 week mark, my punishment for not submitting to the rules of obstetrics was that I could not legally give birth at the midwives birthing center, although they assured me they would attend the birth in the hospital. I was devastated about that. Given the attitude of the doctor who had suggested induction, my husband was incredibly worried, too.

Finally, a few days after 42 weeks, just after I had written several laters and made several phone calls telling people the baby was never going to come, so don't bother asking anymore, I began to get some contractions. And wonder of wonders, they got closer together, and became more and more obviously real labor contractions. By 9.30 am I knew it was the real thing. I called my husband, called my mother, and collected our hospital bags. My oldest son A. was two at the time, and he was a little concerned when I began to squat and stare at the wall every few minutes. But he was a great encourager, telling me "Be bwave, Mama! It's OK" and stroking my arm.

By the time my husband got home from work, my labor was full-blown, but my mother hadn't arrived yet, so we headed for the hospital with our two-year old in the car. I had decided I needed to stay on my feet as long as possible, so I refused a wheelchair and we made our way down the halls. When we reached the registration desk, while I stood there laboring and breathing hard, the secretary said "And who are you visiting today?". Either she hadn't had her coffee yet that morning, or I was handling the labor much better than I thought I was!

When we finally made it to the maternity ward, I was so relieved to see one of the midwives there. She did her best to get all the policy-required checking and baby monitoring overwith quickly, and begged me to get a hep-lock because they were worried that with the large baby I might need some help after the birth. That needle was the worst part and I ended up with horrible bruises on both wrists. Finally, finally, I was able to get out of bed, and the midwife brought in a birthing ball which was the most wonderful help during labor. My mother still hadn't arrived at this time, so A. was sitting in a corner of the room watching me "play" with that big blue ball and pleading for a chance to play too.

The nurses kindly provided him with paper and crayons, and my husband went between me and A., trying to attend to us both. I lost track of time and just sat and bounced on the birthing ball for several hours, leaning over and bracing myself on the bed with each contraction. It didn't seem very long until I started having those "pushy" feelings and they quickly became so strong that I couldn't not push.

The midwife quickly helped me up onto the bed, on hands and knees, and checked me, finding that I was complete! I was given the birth ball to hold on to and lean on while I pushed, which was a great help. Once the pushing started, I couldn't have stopped it to save my life. My body just took over. After a few pushes, I felt the bag of waters burst, and then I felt my baby moving down and out (like a runaway freight train!). I remember the midwives asking me to pant through a few contractions, instead of pushing, but I couldn't.

The baby wanted out-RIGHT NOW!-and I couldn't do anything to stop it. They were worried about shoulder dystocia, and apparently he did get stuck briefly, but my body and the midwives worked together and he was shortly un-stuck. Suddenly, everyone was saying "Turn around! Look at your baby! He's out, you did it!" He came so fast I didn't realize that he was out already!

He was a very big baby (9 lb 15 oz-he looked like a miniature sumo wrestler) and I ended up with a second degree tear and some hemorrhaging, but I have to say that a 4 hour labor with only 15 mintues of pushing, and no interventions beyond the hep-lock and intermittent monitoring was a pretty good birth experience. My mother never did make it to the hospital in time, so A. got to see his baby brother born. Although he was a little perturbed by my roaring during transition (my husband was perturbed too!), he handled it all very well and was the darling of the nurses the whole time we stayed in the hospital. And after the birthing ball was cleaned up properly, he was finally given the chance to play with it.

With this birth I felt vindicated in my decision not to induce, and felt like I had just thumbed my nose at the obstetrician who didn't believe I could birth my own baby. I believe that my determination to prove that doctor wrong was part of the reason that labor was so intense and quick-having read more about birth since then, I've come to believe that our minds and bodies are much more closely attuned to each other than we think.