My Birth Dream
I am lying in bed, unable to sleep because I have a client who is almost 42 weeks and could go any minute. While I lay here in the quiet dark, waiting for the phone to ring, I am reflecting on the births of my own four boys. My births. My roller coaster of births.
When I gave birth to my first son I was 24, and completely ignorant and naive about childbirth. I had taken the birthing class that the hospital offered, and believed I understood what was happening to my body, but the birth of my first child was, in retrospect, nightmarish. I endured the sterile hospital, the stirrups, the gripping fear and bearing down, the clenched teeth of delivery, but my only joy in the process was the healthy baby I received at the end.
12 years later, I was nine months pregnant again, and, armed with the updated information of another hospital birthing class, again I thought I was ready for childbirth. I timed my contractions, enjoying the self-control that I had developed over the years, and when I decided that they were of sufficient intensity, and close enough together, I had my husband drive me to the hospital. A strange thing happened, though: When we arrived at the front desk of the maternity floor, my self-control vanished like something imagined, and I reverted into a state of utter helplessness, crying, screaming, pleading and begging for help. The contractions were chaotic and furious, and I only remember them as one would remember a fever dream. At one point I heard my son's voice. He was saying, “You're doing good, Momma. You're doing good.” But the voice would fade as the a contraction began, and I would become lost in the pain again.
Then a wonderful thing happened. I heard a woman's voice directly above my head. It was a soft, calm voice, whispering about the surging ocean waves. The voice spoke of all the power of the ocean being behind me, within me, washing my baby from my body with a persistence that cannot be contained by fear. I became filled with confidence, and my second son was born.
To this day I don't know who the woman was. An angel? A wise nurse? Was she a passing midwife, or a doula who saw a woman who needed her? Whoever she was, it was her voice that broke through the fog and spoke to my nature, and that gave my mind something to cling to besides the terror that gripped it.
After my second son was born, my OBGYN told my husband and me that we shouldn’t have any more children. She said that I had experienced pre-eclampsia (pregnancy induced hypertension), and that it greatly increases the risk of a woman's death during delivery. My blood pressure had been through the roof, and I had been put on magnesium sulfate to prevent seizures. She also told me that I would most likely experience it again if I tried to have another child. I so wanted more children, and was being told that to have another would be another nightmare, and might even result in my death. But my doctor's words were like pouring gasoline on a flame, to me. I wanted more children, and I have a tendency to be stubborn when it comes to something I've set my mind to. So I began to research pregnancy, through books, the internet, and conversations with midwives. I had experienced pre-eclampsia, the doctors told me. I had to learn how to prevent it.
I employed the services of a midwife who was an expert in these pregnancy and childbirthing techniques, and I learned about the effect of diet on pre-eclampsia, I also learned some very helpful techniques that exist to reduce the stress associated with childbirth. Revolutionary, radical-sounding ideas such as water birthing, hypno-birthing and birthing visualization. Over the next year I learned methods of relaxation and self-induced control that are not practiced by doctors of medicine, only by women who help women give birth. With these techniques, I have since given birth to two more children, both at home in a tub of soothing warm water. I was hypnotized during the births, visualizing my body performing optimally, doing what a woman's body was made for, flawlessly, efficiently, naturally. I was in complete control during my two home births, and never had a hint of pre-eclampsia, high blood pressure, panic or fatigue. I am convinced that this is how pregnancy and childbirth are supposed to be.
People often ask me, “What made you want to become a doula?” My answer is simple: My personal experiences with childbirth, both good and bad, have ignited a passion within me to help other mothers have memorable, positive births. I want to be, for someone else, that voice in her ear that gives her courage, strength, confidence or comfort when she needs it.
We hear so many stories of births gone wrong, so many tragic, painful memories. I wish I could be there for every woman to help make her experience with childbirth a positive, enjoyable one. I rejoice in childbirth, and I want all birthing stories to be good. I am part of the movement that is trying to change people's perceptions and misconceptions about birth, turning the birthing process from a nightmare to a dream. My dream is that our grand-daughters and great-grand-daughters will come to have only positive stories of birth. Stories of strength and courage, stories of beauty and joy, stories that will empower them to have wonderful births of their own.