Thursday, November 21, 2019

Childbirth

Childbirth

When I saw two books on childbirth in a new nonfiction display
at Orono Public Library my reaction was, "Been there, done that, no
thanks." Between tubal ligation and menopause, my reproductive years
are a mostly happy memory. But then someone important in my life told
me her wife is expecting. So next thing I knew I was back to the
library to check the books out. It would be a good idea to see if
either or both could help them through one of life's most exhilerating
and terrifying experiences.
January Harshe's Birth Without Fear is the book I most wish had
been published 30 years ago when I was carrying Amber. There were
books on childbirth back then. But the medical model was the lens
through which all things pregnancy related were seen. Doctors were
Gods who gave or refused you permission to do anything. People
hadn't gotten around to asking, "Whose body is this, anyways?" And if
you ended up with a Cesarean, either, planned or emergency, or bottle
fed, even with a legitimate medical reason like Cesarean mandated
opiates polluting your breast milk, there was a special ring in Hell
reserved for you.
Harshe, mother of six, puts self authorship within the context
of procreating. This is your baby and your body. You interview your
care provider(s) to find those whose beliefs and practices are most
congruent with what you want from your pregnancy and birth
experience. [There is a great list of potential provider questions.]
You can fire them if the relationship starts getting incompatible.
You put thought into where and under what conditions you want to give
birth and how you can handle alternatives that may become necessary.
You decide who you don't want to be there, say someone who might bring
negativity and fear as unwanted baggage to the event, even if that
person is your mother.
Harshe urges you to have confidence in your self and your
capabilities. Well meaning family members, friends, and even
strangers will have unsolicited opinions on whether you're putting too
little or too much weight. And heaven forbid they catch you with
fries and a soda even if it's what your morning (or all day) sick body
will keep down. Feel free to ignore them. Take care of yourself in
the individual ways you need to, not just in generic formulas laid
down by books. Don't be afraid to ask for help--from people who will
respect your agency.
Harshe's six children arrived under a wide range of
circumstances, some involving last minute medically mandated changes.
She starts the second section of the book by declaring: "I do not care
what kind of birth you have...a home birth, scheduled cesarean,
epidural hospital birth, or if you birth alone in the woods next to a
baby deer. I care that you have options, that you are supported in
your choices, and that you are respected." Here are the chapters that
go into great detail about a range of options [except not the baby
deer one or the very real but rare occassion where baby arrives too
fast and a firefighter takes on the doctor role with no time to
compare philosophies]. It's amazing, for example how many options for
agency a c section can provide such as no sedatives for the mother
after birth, skin-to-skin bonding time, and viewing the delivery.
Harshe urges even mothers who are sure they'll go with one option to
read all the chapters because, as I can second from personal
experience, you never really know.
There are also some pretty awesome post partum chapters,
including the one on sex and intimacy.
The paperback price makes this book a total bargain and a great
investment.
My Caesarean, edited by Amanda Fields and Rachel Moritz, may be
a more controversial recommendation. But I'll stand by it. A
substantial number of babies have surgical births. A lot of women do
all the right things throughout pregnancy only to run up against a
wall. Statistics back up what I learned through personal experience.
Actually I wish I had had the book during the last two months of my
first pregnancy when a fast growing baby in a very small boned body
made a vaginal birth seem increasingly unlikely. All I knew was that
a c section involved surgery. There was no mention of anything
related to emotions, interpersonal dynamics, or ways to have agency
within the context of a surgical delivery. Before my first one I had
never read or heard a c section story or met anyone who would admit to
having done what, to many, was a cardinal sin.
My Caesarean changes all that. It contains the stories of
twenty-one women who delivered by caesarean. As it says in the
Editors' note,
"...Those of us who have brought children into the world this
way have had wildly different experiences and reactions. For some,
the caesarean is welcomed as a choice or necessity. Others carry
ambivolance or trauma about the surgery. A new mother is often told
to focus on the outcome of a healthy baby and given little information
about her own physical recovery."
The stories contained in the book are intimate and personal,
told in a wide range of strong and wise voices. People new to
surgical delivery may very well find advice that helps with their own
deliveries. Two decades past my children's births I was deeply
touched by reading of women who had had experiences like mine and
saddened that it had taken two decades to find them.
My favorite story was Upside Down by Mary Pen. After years of
delivering other women's babies, she was pregnant with a baby in the
wrong position for a vaginal delivery. When she was patient instead
of provider her perspective altered drastically.
"...My own mother had three quick vaginal births, ushering my
two brothers and me into this world in record time. It never occurred
to me that I might have a complication, an aberrancy that might lead
to an alternate birthing path. I became irrational, a physician who
put aside all she knew in scientific fact in favor of anecdotes,
hearsay, lore."
In The Emperor's Cut Elizabeth Noll reminds us of a sobering
reality. Women have unequal access to the procedure. While wealthy
women can access it for sometimes trivial reasons, poor women don't
often have a chance, even to save their lives and those of their
babies. In 2014 3.18 million needed c sections were not performed.
The World Health Organization has gone from recommending 15% to
stating that "Every method should be made to provide caesarean
sections to women in need, rather than striving to achieve a certain
rate."
I found a real pearl of wisdom in Sara Bates' When Expectations
Go Up in Flames. Bates reminds us that women become mothers in a
gradual process resembling the velveteen rabbit becoming real rather
than passing or flunking a birthing exam.
"...Motherhood is something that happens to a woman, not all at
once, but with each lullaby and goodnight kiss. And it takes a long
time...A woman becomes a mother not in the wake of the grandeur of her
child's birth, but during the accumulation of the small moments of
adoration and the short, explosive moments of aggravation."
This book also is an affordable paperback.
I recommend both not only for pregnant women but for the
partners, families, and friends who love them.
On a very purrrsonal note, all three of my children were born by C-
section. I'm extremely small boned. I carried big babies. The month
before Amber was born the ligaments holding my ribs in place had
stretched so far sneezing created stabbing pain. I tried for a
vaginal delivery. After 16 hours in labor my blood pressure went down
so fast they had to go with general anaesthetic and cut. My last
words before going under were, "If he (my husband who loves fishing)
thinks it's too small don't let him throw it back in." Matters got
complicated when I almost died from a post surgical infection. The
nurses bet they would never see me again.
I planned on a vaginal birth with Katie. Her surgical delivery
wasn't set in motion until she grew too big. Amazingly I entered the
hospital exuberant rather than fearful. I recognized the nurse who
prepped me as one of the ones who made the bet and said, "Surprise,
surprise! I'm here." This time I was awake and Eugene was present.
The next morning a nurse explained why I should at least try to walk
to the bathroom. Piece of cake! I then scared the nurse by walking
down the hall to take a look at Katie.
I tried with Adam. I had a lot of help with that pregnancy.
I'd had a miscarriage and a medically necessary abortion in the
intervening years. Amber had decided that while pregnancy wasn't what
she wanted for me, now that the baby was real she wanted it to live.
She informed her first grade teacher that she was going to all my
doctor appointments. (In fact her teacher and her teacher's best
friend came over every Saturday to clean my house for free, bringing
breakfast pastries and happy meals for lunch.) She paid close
attention and made sure we had all the recommended foods and played
with Katie so I could rest. When a C-section became necessary she
interviewed the doctor, asking hard ball questions such as how many C-
sections he'd performed, what percent of the mothers and babies had
lived, and whether he planned on a general or local anaesthetic.
Adam's birth was even more exciting because I was offered a
mirror to watch the moment of birth. I told the operating team to set
the mirror up so I could watch it all from incisions to stitches.
They did with misgivings. I found it fascinating. The next morning I
woke up to music from an adjoining room. When the macareno came on I
slipped out of bed and started dancing. A nurse came running in to
ask what the Hell I was doing. I said, well the doctor said I should
try to exercise. She said that meant dangling my feet over the side
of the bed. Maybe he could have been more explicit.
I have one bit of hard won advice for pregnant women. Trust
your thoughts and feelings even if they conflict with those of
doctors. That saved my life. Literally. The second day after
Amber's birth I knew that I had an infection. When the doctor on
rounds came by with his doctorlings I mentioned this and asked him to
have a nurse take my vitals. He said it was my imagination and
commented to the doctorlings about first time mothers. The second
they left I buzzed for the nurse and insisted that I was right. I was
burning up with fever. In a matter of moments I was hooked up to
intravenous antibiotics. I almost died. Before I left the place I
was told that if I had done what we are taught to do--obeyed the
doctor--Eugene would have been widowed, Amber half orphaned, and Katie
and Adam never conceived.
Trusting my thoughts and feelings also steeled me from being
guilted into second guessing, regrets, and depression by vaginal
birth supremicists. I got plenty of hate. For instance I had just
arrived in my room after Adam's birth when my roommate's mother was
screaming at me for being a lazy bitch and taking the easy way out
while her real woman daughter did the right thing. My baby in the
nursery had scored aced the Apgar and I would leave in my husband's
truck, not a hearse. Nothing else mattered.
Great big shout outs go out to the women who are on the beautiful
journey of bringing a human being into the world and their partners
and other allies and to my three incredible adult children who are my
legacy and my gift to the world.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

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