Homebirth

I always thought home birth was for the truly brave. I envied those that could step so confidently into the unknown of birth, trusting just their bodies to see them (and their baby) safely across the threshold of new life. Of course I was terribly naive about the reality of home birth, believing as many do, that the midwife comes with little more than a towel over their shoulder and instructions to boil water. 

Plenty of towels were on hand, water was boiled, but there were also heaps of steryl medical stuff assembled beforehand. Cara, our midwife, carted in her own treasury of equipment at the time of the birth, not to mention her extensive training and ten years plus experience doing just this. There was an oxygen tank leaning casually against the wall in Uta's lego corner. A doppler was used to monitor the baby's heart during the birth. And the fastest route to the nearest hospital had been mapped out and studied by everyone. 

Midwives are a cautious breed, not big risk takers in my experience, at least not when lives are on the line. They don't want to be heroes, but prefer simply to help guide moms in birthing their babies into this world. In the hands of a midwife, the power of birth gets to stay in the hands of the mother, and it is upon the mother that all the heroism of birth ultimateley falls. 

When I learned I was pregnant with Kizuki my first thought was not homebirth, like I said, that, I thought, was for those courageous few, not me, and certainly not Papa H. I imagined having her in a birthing center, like I did Uta. With Uta it was the best of both worlds. I was in the no pressure atmosphere of a birthing center, free to move and eat and take as long as need be, but the hospital was right there, just in case. 

Apparently that experience was a luxury of living upstate. I would soon discover that the city was not the same.

So I began my prenatal care with a team of midwives in a birthing center attached to a hospital. I had heard good things about the center, but after each visit I would come home in a heap of tears. I was quickly realizing that having a natural birth at this birthing center was unlikely. It was, as many are in the city, a hospital in birth center clothing. They were short staffed and as a result the birth center was only sometimes open. And although the midwives were wonderful they were quick to confess circumstances were far from ideal. Fight and advocate for the mom as they might, hospital protocal simply prevailed. There was little they could do. In a hospital the stage is set for intervention, thats what hospitals do, intervene. They are not designed to deal with healthy bodies functioning normally, which is what most Moms are, if you let them be.

I thought my requests were simple. I wanted a natural birth  and I wanted to keep the baby with me afterwards. Was that so radical? I didn't think so, but apparently I'm in the minority with such requirements. I felt truly heartbroken that those two things were not a given. The midwives encouraged me to write letters of protest to the hospital. But I didn't want to be an activist, I just wanted to have a baby. I didn't want to fight for what nature intended. Why should I have to? 

When I found out the baby would be transfered to a nursery after the birth I was horrified. Uta was not taken from me, and I couldn't believe such an archaic practice still existed. I would not willingly lose those precious first hours of the baby's life just because it is hospital routine. In the first few hours after birth the baby is more alert than she will be for some time, and bonding is easy and instinctual. I would not let my baby be in the hands of strangers during that special time, or worse yet, alone in a nursery. 

We were running out of alternatives. We had a family meeting on the kitchen floor. Me sobbing, Uta consoling, and Papa H listening with all his heart. Homebirth was emerging as the only option that didn't terrify me. The boys were more open and willing than I could have ever imagined. If homebirth was for the truly brave at heart, a hospital birth was for the downright fearless. We all agreed. The hospital/birthing center was not for us. We would have this baby at home.