Log in

No account? Create an account
Floppy's Birth Story - old_man_summer [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

Site Meter

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

Floppy's Birth Story [Jun. 30th, 2008|10:09 am]
[Tags|, , ]

Our local altweekly has as its cover story this week an article on home versus hospital births, with the sensational subhead "Inside Baltimore's Home Birth Underground." Lay midwifery here is illegal, so the midwives interviewed for the article are given pseudonyms, like drug dealers.

This has got me thinking about Floppy's birth. I've told his birth story a lot. I tell it routinely to Floppy of course. But I also used to tell it to my students, whenever I lectured on pregnancy and childbirth. I don't tell many other personal stories in class -- or, for that matter, on the web -- but I think it's a powerful tale, and illustrates a lot about what happens in hospital births usually, and what alternatives there might be that preserve birth as an astonishing miracle and the beginning of a love affair, instead of a source of pain.

Giving birth to my son was without a doubt the absolute peak experience of my life. It tapped all of my physical and mental capabilities, but rewarded that exertion with a sense of bliss and accomplishment and unity that I can't imagine any other work I could do would ever equal. That's not how it goes for most women, though. It wasn't how it went for my friends.

In a massive case of "it's in the water," most of my female friends and acquaintances were pregnant around the same time that I was. As far as I know, they all wanted natural childbirths. Certainly they all wanted a safe and happy birth experience! They were also, like me, mostly well-educated, well-off women with good medical insurance. You'd think that would be a good thing, but when it comes to birth, education, insurance, and money leads to more medical intervention in birth. And more medical intervention in birth does not lead to happy birth stories.

Their outcomes? In the year around Floppy's birth, 8 of my friends gave birth to 9 children (one woman had two kids in a single year, but not twins). Five of those births ended in a C-section. That's much higher than the national average, which is around 23%, although the CityPaper article says that the rate in Maryland hospitals is 32%, and my understanding is that rates of C-section are increasing.

Of those who managed to escape major abdominal surgery to birth their babies, 1 had a painful birth experience that improved after she received an epidural. Another had a very painful, brief birth – she had wanted pain medication, but gave birth too quickly to have it. Only 2 births – to the same woman, attended by a midwife both times -- were natural and positive experiences with no complications.

None of my friends -- all under 35, with low-risk, uncomplicated first (and in the case of the one friend, also second) pregnancies -- should have had stressful, painful, complex births. And yet all but one of them did. So you can imagine how nervous I was! I'm not known for impressive pain tolerance, I was not, at the time, an expert of any kind in childbirth, and I had chosen an obstetrician to attend my birth, because I respected the education the MD represents. I wanted her expertise, but I didn’t want a c-section if I didn't need one!

I did a lot of very smart things before Floppy's birth, all of them pretty much by accident rather than by design. We took Bradley Method birth classes because my doctor’s childbirth classes were only two sessions long, and I didn’t think that was enough to get me through labor without drugs. I was initially wildly disappointed in these expensive classes. I mean, really, what is a childbirth class supposed to cover? Breathing techniques, meditation, magical skills to manage pain, right? That was what I thought. Instead, most of the class provided textbook information: menu plans, statistics, and information about how labor is managed , informaton about different interventions used in birth, and how scary and dangerous they all are. The instructor was persuasive -- and terrifying! -- but I didn't see how all this fine knowledge was going to help when I was having uninterrupted contractions! I could not have been more wrong, though. It turned out that I needed that statistical information when my birth didn’t go as expected – and so my childbirth classes were one of the most valuable things I did. But I was disappointed at the time.

I also had a doula, Jessie Weber, who was fantastic. I knew that doulas -- the word is Greek for a female slave, but in English refers to someone who supports the mother and family with pregnancy or birth -- cause improved birth outcomes in research: fewer C-sections, fewer complications, shorter labors, less pain, less use of pain medication. But I chose mine by the highly scientific method of asking my OB whom she liked. She hemmed and hawed and said, er, maybe the hospital could give you a good referral. So I called the hospital's doula line, and took the first person who called us back. Who turned out to be Jessie, fortuitously.

My parents and my husband, as well as my obstetrician and the nursing staff, all came to my birth. I didn't know it at the time, but having wanted family members at the birth also decreases medical intervention in birth, so that was also a good choice. Having family there meant more hands to help with labor support, and I turned out to need them, apart from the joy of having them there to watch Floppy take his first breath.

I also chose a hospitalWoodwinds, in Woodbury, Minnesota – that was known for its emphasis on natural birth, although I don't know anything about their actual labor outcomes.

Most of the things I did -- with the exception of choosing an obstetrician to attend me -- were things that are associated in research with having natural labor with few complications. I would do all those things the same way again, except for the OB. If I have another child, it will be with a midwife.

My labor began when my water broke, and it lasted 18 hours from start to finish – so it was a longer than average labor, which is about 12-14 hours for a first child, and less for subsequent children. The first eight hours were cake -- I had a few mild contractions, but nothing difficult to handle. I danced around the hospital ward with my husband, bounced on a birthing ball, and hung out.

But at some point after that, my labor became very painful and stopped progressing. I wondered if perhaps this was  “back labor” -- painful but pointless contractions caused when the baby is turned backwards in the uterus and gets stuck there. Nobody seemed interested in my theory; the nurse felt my belly mid-contraction and said the contraction wasn't "strong enough" to push Floppy out.

My obstetrician wanted to give me pitocin. Now, pitocin is not some scary chemical. It's chemically identical to oxytocin, the body's own mechanism to create contractions. It's used to induce labor, and used to "augment" a labor , like mine, which doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Obstetricians like pitocin because it is reliable -- if you give it, labor is going to happen -- but every woman I've talked to who had pitocin, no matter how committed to natural childbirth she was at the start, ended up with some kind of pain medication. A pitocin contraction hurts! 

I can make a logical guess about why this is. Pitocin does not cross the blood-brain barrier. Now, neither would oxytocin (they're the same, remember?), but oxytocin is synthesized in the brain in the first place. It starts out in the hypothalamus. It's likely that when the brain is triggered to make enough oxytocin to push out a baby, it also makes endorphins and whatever other chemicals make up our natural pain management system. Probably the same stuff as you get with an orgasm, actually, since orgasms in both men and women are also powered on oxytocin. But an injection of pitocin never makes it to the brain, so when you labor on pitocin, you labor without these delicious innate pain relievers. Hence your sudden, unanticipated need for an epidural!

Anyway, in my birth, the pressure to accept pitocin to augment my stopped labor became intense. Eventually, everyone loudly, repeatedly agreed that I needed augmentation medication – my doula, my husband, my parents, and my doctors and nurses. My physician father told me later, when I was no longer a crazy laboring woman, that if he had been my physician he would have walked off the job!

It won't surprise any of you who know me that I was the only -- loudly -- dissenting voice in the face of all this united agreement. Floppy wasn’t distressed, as best as medical science could tell, so I kept repeating a statistic from my birth class: 85% of all women whose waters break give birth naturally within 24 hours. No one was very impressed with my statistic! 

I also wasn't convinced my contractions weren't strong enough, as they all said. They certainly hurt plenty strong! I thought Floppy was probably reversed in my uterus and stuck on my pelvic bones -- that was what it felt like, and I clung tightly to that small shred of expertise. No one but me knew what it felt like!  I was worried that pitocin, which would dramatically increase the intensity of labor, would put him in distress without helping him move. But everyone said I needed the medication! 

What do you think I did? I told my doula, Jessie, that I thought Floppy was stuck, and I asked her what we could do to move him. Jessie knew all sorts of tricks – tricks to make labor faster, tricks to slow it down,  tricks to conserve energy and reduce pain. So I thought maybe she’d have a trick for this too – although I wasn’t too hopeful! 

Miraculously, though, she did have an idea. She did a technique on me called a rebosa – a Spanish word for baby shawl. She stood over me as I laid on the bed, and passed a sheet under my back, lifting me in it as a cradle and gently shaking me from side to side, as if I was swaying on a hammock. Then she had me roll over on all fours, and she cradled and shook my pregnant belly the same way. Finally, she had me stand up, and she passed the sheet behind my back and shook me in it as we both leaned back in opposite directions. I actually felt Floppy move during the rebosa, when I was on my knees, so I wasn't surprised when 20 minutes later I was in active labor, with the nurses cheering my new, strong contractions (which felt exactly no different to me). Three hours later he was born, entirely without medical intervention, and much to the amazement of everyone, who thought he couldn't possibly be born on his own.

There really is a warm, hormonal glow around my first memories of my son. I remember his eyes, and my husband holding him against his bare chest -- but not the fact that it was apparently me who told him to take off his shirt so Floppy could cuddle on skin. I remember him nursing, and the amazing burst of manic energy I had after my 18-hour whirlwind tour through labor medicine. Nothing has ever felt more miraculous to me, than making him.

But it could have gone very differently. Without my doula and my childbirth classes, I too would probably have had a C-section. Floppy was -- as I thought, as I felt when he moved during the rebosa -- stuck in a posterior position, so pitocin probably would have put him in distress without moving him, as the intense synthetic contractions slammed his little head harder against my pelvic bones. Once he was in distress, I would have genuinely needed a c-section, and I would have happily consented to one. What else could I have done? They would have recorded me as a case of dystocia caused by an abnormally small birth canal, or something, and I would have thought of Floppy as a medical miracle. But I didn't need a c-section. All I really needed was a doula who knew how to do a rebosa! 

My birth is a great example of how and why childbirth classes and labor support reduce medical complications and create better births. If you're having a baby, get a midwife. Get a doula. Take childbirth classes; take notes. And, as the obstetrician Robert Atlas quoted in the City Paper story so eloquently says, "Don't. Be. Induced." Or augmented, or heparin locked, or continuously monitored, or any of the other hospital crap anybody asks you to do. It's birth, not an illness. You can do it. It's your body. It will be amazing.

[User Picture]From: bzdchris
2008-06-30 06:23 pm (UTC)

Thank you so much for posting this!

I will remember this for anyone I know who is concerned about what's going to happen when she gives birth. I love what your doula did, which is really instinctive, if you stop and think about it. Shake that baby around and he might move into a position that fits better. Even babies know how to get born.

My story is short and sweet: I was three weeks overdue with my second son, and my OB had put it off long enough. She told me if I didn't deliver by Friday, she would induce even though the baby wasn't in any distress and wasn't oversized. She also told me that I could try to start my own contractions by having orgasms. So, on that Thursday morning, I gave myself a nice strong orgasm (a second one would have been nice but seemed rather extravagant at the time). An hour later, I was in labor and on the way to the hospital. Three hours later, Matt was born. Much nicer than a pitocin drip. I've recommended this to others, and have gotten some pretty funny looks but, hey, it worked!
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: old_man_summer
2008-06-30 06:32 pm (UTC)

Re: Thank you so much for posting this!

Certainly a lot more fun raspberry leaf tea, and the mechanism of action is clearer: have an orgasm, pump some oxytocin, have contractions! I had the desire to suck my thumb during labor, so I did, and felt embarrassed about it. Later I found out, of course, suckling -- even on your own thumb! -- also stimulates oxytocin production.

(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: tiggerypum
2008-06-30 11:23 pm (UTC)
My homebirths with a certified nurse midwife (who actually usually has a second midwife with her at births whenever possible) were wonderful. Yes, it was intense at times, but the babies and I were alert and fine immediately after birth. Heck I posted my son's birth announcement while still naturally high 2 hours after his birth ;) Then I finally settle in for some much deserved rest.

I don't know if my midwife knew a 'rebosa' but she would have had anyone with a stalled labor up and moving about, trying different positions, and so on - especially if there was no sign of distress. I do remember her saying something about being able to try to turn a baby.

I didn't go for extra Bradley classes, but I did get medical info and basic 'breath deep, make deep sounds' and relax, etc coaching at the midwife's classes... along with her being there at the birth and sometimes coaching during the labor.

The rest of the women did end up with typical experiences - not well prepared it seemed in pain management (but you said the classes offered didn't even cover that!) and even you had a lot of pressure to have your labor moving forward even when you really hadn't labored for that long yet! So often birth gets treated more like an illness than a natural process that -works fine- most of the time.

Edited at 2008-06-30 11:29 pm (UTC)
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: old_man_summer
2008-07-01 01:50 am (UTC)
All in agreement here! A midwife-attended home birth already has all the features you'd want to make a birth go smoothly: consistent expert labor support from someone who sees birth as a natural process, along with a comfortable, hopefully low-stress environment. A good midwife who is willing to work at home also already knows all the non-drug interventions to turn a baby in utero or partway down the birth canal, to speed or slow labor, to conserve energy, etc.: that's why midwives even in hospitals often have c-section rates in the low single digits (compared to 20, 30, or 40% or more for OB attended births). There's no need to arm yourself as an activist or bring along a doula to give birth at home, because your midwife is not your adversary. I'm very much pro-midwife and pro-home-birth, and will go that route myself if there's a next time.

My goal in this essay is to speak to women who would never consider a home birth, who think induction, augmentation, and c-sections happen because they are medically necessary, and who think they had to have pain meds during their labors because of their own inadequate pain tolerance, rather than because of medical interventions that made their pain more than anyone could bear. I want that audience to know that they can have a different birth, even in the hospital. But that it will take activism and education and additional labor support than what the hospital provides. And it may be, if they get that education, they'll choose midwifes and home or birth center births more often. Which would be all to the good, you know?
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: thomaskruger281
2009-10-13 09:52 pm (UTC)

Experinece Giving Birth

Whoa! Very interesting post! It reminds me when my wife got pregnant. We we're all excited because it was our 1st baby. My wife was so afraid when she was giving birth. Of course, as husband I am also afraid for her. i prepared all the things we might needed during the operations. Luckily, we have a medical insurance that saves as in an expensive hospital. I will remember this for anyone I know who is concerned about what's going to happen when she gives birth.
(Reply) (Thread)