Stella's Birth Story or Why We're Choosing Homebirth

In preparation for my birth experience with our second child I want to come to terms with Stella's birth, so I am writing our full story - conception to birth. I am doing this for me and for the thousands of woman are denied their right to safely bring their children into the world with their own strength. This will be long!

I was twenty, a mere ten months into our marriage, and living in a brand new city with no family or friends around. We had decided a couple months prior that we would leave the conception of our children up to God and stopped preventing pregnancy the night before I moved to Charlotte, NC.

I took this in Charlotte at Pottery Barn Kids a couple weeks before I conceived her. I've known since I was sixteen I would have a first born  girl named Stella. When I saw this I had chills over my body so I took a picture on my phone to show her when she's grown how I got a little sign that she was coming. I hope to buy her a vanity like this one day.

It was not ideal at all. I was working almost full time as a shipment leader (fast paced, lifting, pulling, pushing) with shifts at 4:30 AM. Cameron was frantically searching for a job to hold him over until his job offer that "secured" our move went through a few months later. It was really hard to get an appointment up there. No one was calling me back for days, and when they did I was told "We will call you back in a week to schedule an appointment." I was scared, hormonal, and lonely. Our marriage was going through a huge test with  me being the Pregnant Breadwinner. I had an anxiety attack one morning after dealing with stress at work. We decided to move back to Florida when our lease was up. I called White Wilson to make an appointment (it took about 30 seconds) and a few days later we were on our way down to Florida for a visit!

A deer tried to tackle my sweet, yellow Beetle in Luverne, AL on our way down. Cameron was driving, thank God, and we were okay, but the car was not. Our insurance company had mistakenly switched us over to liability from full coverage when we moved, so the damage wasn't covered . We decided to grab our stuff from Charlotte, and move in with my dad. This is how we ended up back in Florida.

Before all of that, I had been reading up on my choices in birth. I knew nothing. I had just heard the typical over-dramatized horror stories. After reading The Yummy Mummy Manifesto, I decided I wanted to try to have a natural birth. It didn't make sense to me that I wouldn't get drunk or snort a line, but would willingly accept a drug into my body during labor that inhibited my ability to birth AND crossed the placenta. (My only reasoning at the time) We were also already in the process of switching to an organic diet, changing our personal hygiene and household cleaning products. Of course, when asked questions about my pregnancy and birth, people would respond to my answers with shock and dismay. I was getting discouraged about my decision.

I knew a girl that told me she had her daughter naturally. We had hung out once when in high school and crossed each others paths a few times because of our jobs.. I remember when she told me, my jaw dropped and I exclaimed, "Really! Did it hurt?!" She informed me that you prepare yourself for birth, and that our bodies are made to do it. This little seed stayed with me for two years and was slowly beginning to germinate. This was before Facebook was all the rage, so I had her as a friend on Myspace. I thought of her when I started getting doubts and went on her page. She had several quotes, links, and books listed about natural birth, breastfeeding, and vaccination. I ate them all up and wanted to learn more. I got over being shy and decided to message her. I told her my situation and she offered moral support, pointed me in the right direction and....to be my doula!



 Despite her efforts and my research, I still chose a hospital birth. I chose Sacred Heart out in Miramar which, I'll say is much more mother & baby-friendly compared to my other option, but it's not about hospitals being evil/good. They are for the medically needy. I was not ill. I did not have any complications. There was nothing safer about a hospital birth for me - a low-risk, healthy individual. I didn't listen. Honestly, here's the real reason why. We were in a bad financial struggle at the time. Medicaid completely covered a hospital birth. While prenatal care and home birth with no coverage is only $4,000-6,000 (a lot less compared to a regular, vaginal hospital birth with no coverage) it was still a few thousand dollars we didn't want to have hanging over our heads. Yeah, we could get on a flexible payment plan, but it was still money I would not have to worry about thanks to Medicaid if I could pull this gig off in a hospital. I was going to fight the system, birth my baby naturally in the hospital, save the money, and all would be well.

Until I was induced. I knew about induction. In fact, I remember posting this chart on Facebook that explains a lot if you don't already know some of the reasons why a mom would not want to be induced unless absolutely medically necessary.

I no longer have the link for this chart and am having trouble finding it. If you have it please pass it along so I can give credit!

Here's what I experienced. I was lucky, though, and avoided a cesarean and was hell-bent on breastfeeding;

I was "4 days late.'' Technically, I was right on my original due date, the 27th. They had changed it after an ultrasound to the 23rd. Ultrasounds are not 100 percent accurate. A due date is an ESTIMATED DUE DATE. Full term is anywhere from 37-42 weeks. I had an appointment the day I was 4 days late, and we were to check on the baby and discuss induction dates. My mother-in-law was with  me, thankfully, and I planned on pushing the date as far as possible. After an ultrasound, my OB discovered that the fluid was low. I had just woken up an hour before the appointment, had no water all night, and was still working on hydrating myself. Instead of giving me a chance to replenish my fluid, she declared, "This baby is coming today.'' I was pushed in a wheelchair to the Family Birth Place, a pretty way of saying "Labor & Delivery"

I called Cameron to tell him to head out and then my doula, Jessie, in tears. My mom and step-mom started to make their way out as well. It was around 8 AM. Thankfully they didn't start the procedure right away and every minute was a minute closer to the possibility of Stella choosing to come on her own. At around noon they gave me Cervidil to ripen my cervix. After a couple hours I felt what I thought were just cramps. I can't remember all the times but a few hours later around 6 PM they started the pitocin. The contractions started to bother me. I was allowed to move around but had to keep the annoying fetal monitor on. I sat on the birthing ball and on the toilet, but my favorite place was in the tub with the whirlpool jets massaging my feet and lower back. Stella's heart rate was dropping and/or irregular (can't remember all of the details) and the fetal monitor kept slipping off. It's common for the heart rate to drop during contractions. A side effect of pitocin for the fetus is slow or irregular heartbeat.

I had an awesome naturally minded nurse who was really supportive of my birth choices. I found out later she actually got yelled at for letting me get back in the tub at one point. I was forced to get back in the bed. I was pissed. I had my Hypnobabies CD going and it was helping, but I could not deal with my pain laying in that damn bed. Hours went by. Everyone took turns massaging me. 

Then things took a turn for the worse. I wasn't allowed to get up to go to the bathroom. I kept having urges to  pee. It made it even harder to deal with the contractions (which were already abnormally hard because of the pitocin). They made me pee in a bed pan. It only happened because I finally had to go so bad that it just came out. Can you imagine peeing on demand in front of your friend, husband, mother-in-law, mother, step mother, and nurses? Yeah. Oh and the oxygen! I had to keep this oxygen tube in my nose and it was horrid. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was losing control and  I felt my determination slipping. I kept getting more and more pissed and deep down I wanted everyone out and to let me focus, but I was scared and trying to make everyone happy. I hid any indication of wanting to be alone with Cameron. I vomited all over my mother-in-law's feet. She was to my left and when I had the urge I just turned that way and let it out. Thankfully, she had a change of shoes.

Stuck in the bed. 

I personally believe I was in transition, the most difficult and intense phase of labor. Mostly because I remember yelling "I can't f***ing do this!!" several times. Women often get nauseous, shaky/chills or vomit during transition. Right after I threw up, my OB came in and said, "We have to talk about your options. She explained that if things didn't progress I would end up with an emergency cesarean. She recommended an epidural to help me relax and see if that progressed things. She said it worked for her. I wanted to scream in her face, "Why don't you let me out of this damn bed to relax and let's see if it progresses!?!" But I was done fighting. I caved. I had to accept defeat in front of a room full of people who just didn't really understand (excluding Jessie). I exclaimed that I was a failure, and the response was "All that matters is that you end up with a healthy baby." Exactly.  I could have done that on my own instead of us being pushed around AND endangered with all of their unnecessary, risky interventions.

I took the epidural. I made sure to show absolute disgust to my anesthesiologist. My body became numb and I lost complete touch with my birth until I felt the urge to push. That was my "light at the end of the tunnel" moment. I now had some hope that I could get out of this mess without being cut! She let me go for a little longer while they got everything prepped. I pushed very slow and steady for about 40 minutes, again with an audience I wouldn't let down, and had to dig really deep to shut them out and find my "happy place" to focus on my task. She arrived at almost 6 AM the next morning without any tearing or hemorrhaging. She was placed right on my chest and time stopped. They were right to an extent, she was all that mattered.

She was all that mattered. I was able to try to nurse her right away. I don't know for a fact that she would have latched instantly without any problems if she hadn't been exposed to the epidural. I will never know, but I do believe it. There are woman who birth naturally at home that still have breastfeeding struggles, but that doesn't mean epidurals don't get in the way of establishing a breastfeeding relationship. Not to mention all the risks that come with getting them. 

Instead, we ended up struggling, and I came so close to giving up on nursing her several times. I am thankful I didn't end up under the knife and I know I am extremely blessed that I was encouraged and supported in my breastfeeding efforts (but I did prepare for that in advance and made sure to have contacts - a doula, an Lactation Consultant, and a chiropractor who was also a La Leche League Leader - to help me with obstacles.) The point is, we have a choice. My choices put me at a higher risk for all kinds of unnecessary interventions that can and do have lasting effects.

My story has a pretty nice ending compared to many women. Many are robbed of a vaginal birth. Many are robbed of feeding their own child. Many are left with a feeling of failure and extreme guilt. Some even lose their life or lose their child or both. Many have to deal with complications afterwards that make recovery and enjoying their new blessing extremely difficult. I can't imagine it, the guilt of the induction and epidural were hard enough. I think most woman know deep down when their birth interventions weren't necessary, and most can't find the words to talk about it, so we block it out. They're "just moms" not the medical professional. I can say that I have had and still have to deal with extreme bitterness towards the whole ordeal. I couldn't think about my birth without cringing in disgust. This is the first time I've thought about the whole experience, every detail. Usually I block parts of it out. I've come to terms with it for the most part, and am happy I can share my store with other women who experienced the same and maybe prevent more women from ever experiencing it.

This time, I am determined to stand up for my rights. I will protect myself and my child. I am not sick. I have this amazing system of a body. God designed it perfectly and it knows exactly what to do. I am going to birth this child with my own strength, on our own time.(If I remain low-risk, of course. I am also thankful for hospitals, OB's, and interventions when they are needed.) I will do everything I can to breastfeed this baby. I will sleep with him by my side, in my bed. I won't have to worry about being bombarded with questions about vaccination and circumcision and a nurse telling me I can't sleep with my baby.

I am not birthing at home because I'm Wonder Woman. I am not stronger than you. I am not trying to be a martyr. After much prayer and research I have come to this conclusion: 

I am simply giving birth where I believe is safest for my unborn child and most supportive of my lifestyle choices.

Thank you, Stella, for inspiring me to be the best momma I can be.

PS I haven't taken ANY belly pictures since week 17. It just didn't happen. I'll try to take a couple more along the way, but it definitely won't be a weekly event. Also, I'm making the papaya salad tomorrow and will form a recipe and take pictures while I do it -I've never measured anything while making it! I am hoping to have it up before I go on vacation Friday!