The following story belongs to Rebecca. Rebecca is one of the Ilithyia Inspired Facebook Page likers. She shared her story on the Facebook wall after one of the posts on here helped her tremendously on her journey in healing from a traumatic birth which ended in a caesarean. Rebecca graciously agreed to have her wall posts turned into a blog entry, to help other women make the choice to homebirth and hopefully prevent unnecessary pain like that which she has suffered.
Rebecca's is an important story that needs to be heard by all women considering their childbirth options. So often we hear stories from women about how lucky they were to have been in hospital when their children were born. Homebirth advocates hear from women a lot of reasons why homebirth is not right for them, none as nerve racking as the belief that a bad hospital birth won't happen to them. Homebirthers fear for their hospital birthing sisters because we have a heightened awareness of what can go wrong in a hospital birth. It is the cascade of intervention, unnecaesareans, birth rape, and policing of women's bodies that keep us from birthing in the system (among other reasons). But many women simply cannot relate to our fears. We seem insane because we choose to birth at home and for hospital birthing women this seems more dangerous than any of the risks they face in hospital.
When one of our hospital birthing sisters lucks out and has a birth experience that she is happy with, where her health and the health of her baby are not compromised by the routines and protocols of non-evidence based care given by staff, we are relieved. But the worry is not over, because often lucking out once leaves the hospital birthing woman with a false sense of security in the model of care she used. It can become harder for these women to believe they could end up with the "horror story" birth experience we homebirthers never seem to stop banging on about. It won't be them, they already took that risk and everything turned out fine, they say. We may differ on our definition of "fine", but the focus of this blog post is that: from a homebirth advocate's perspective women who scored good birth experiences in hospital were lucky. They played the staff lottery and lucked out. It's not a gamble homebirthers are willing to make, we like more control over the odds.
Choosing homebirth means hand picking your care providers, building a relationship with them throughout pregnancy and continuity of care throughout the birth and afterwards. Everyone in the birth space knows the woman's birth plan inside out and respects her as the sole decision maker in the room. The mother knows in advance what her midwife's level of experience is as well as her limits. She knows the odds. The only surprises she is likely to face are those that the baby and the birth throw at her. Women birthing in hospital cannot be guaranteed they will know the staff on shift when they go into labour. They don't know the staff's backgrounds, experiences or agendas. While the birthing women should be the sole decision makers in the room, hospital routines, protocols and the concerns of the many members of staff they come into contact with, all play a role in decision making.
Rebecca has played the hospital birth lottery twice. The second time, she was not so lucky.
In her own words...
**Trigger warnings for survivors of obstetric violence and birth trauma**
I don't often tell the story of Lollita's birth. I find it too painful and I become distressed. But after what I have been through in the last few days it has just flowed out of me like poison running out of my veins. I have let go at last, with tears of joy that she is here and what happened during her birth wasn't my fault.
I am a mother of two beautiful girls. When I became pregnant with my first little miracle I wished for a home birth. Unfortunately, due to a very concerned husband and also mother (who is a former midwife from the 1970's) I was talked out of my home birth. I bent to their wishes and had a hospital birth. Although that went well, it did not go to the plan that I wished for. I feel that if I had been in my home, my nest and my comfort, her birth would have gone as I planned.
When miracle number two decided to fill my baby-hungry womb, again I wanted to home birth. But again I conformed to others' wishes and had her in hospital. This birth was a disaster. Nothing I wanted happened. I was forced to consent to a c-section and to this day I truly believe I could have birthed her vaginally if I had been at home.
I felt completely robbed of my calm relaxed birth. I felt like I was forced into poor choices for my body and my baby because I wasn't quite "text book" by hospital standards. As a result I chose to end my family at two children, rather than the three or four we had always wanted.
I have always known I could birth naturally. I did it with my first with some help from the doctor. My second ended with doctors cutting me open because of a brow presentation and foetal distress. I do not blame the hospital staff completely for the c-section, they ultimately wanted the same as I did: for my child to arrive safely. But I do feel that if I had have been allowed to birth as I had wished, it would have been a different story.
I wanted to stand, to sit, to squat, even get in a bath. But none of this was allowed. I was forced onto a bed into stirrups and I hated them. For me it is not natural. I wanted to be free, to allow my body to move how it wished to. But instead I was confined and felt harnessed to this cold hard thing they call a birthing bed. I went from 3 centimetres to fully dilated in 45 minutes with coupling contractions and a monitor strapped to my tummy that hurt.
I was given countless internal inspections, one of which the doctor did not ask my consent for or give me any warning. She just shoved her hand in and resulted in so much pain that I, strapped to the stirrup. pushed my leg free with so much force that the bolt that holds the stirrup up literally snapped in half. The entire stirrup missed the doctors head by centremeters, she had to duck to miss it! The two midwives assisting me near on tore her head off for giving me no warning. (I want to make it REALLY clear that the midwives I had for the labour were wonderful, caring women. They wanted to let me get in the bath and have a water birth. But because I hadn't mentioned it while I was pregnant, I hadn't signed any forms. The rules of hospitals restrict so many things. Sadly I had to learn the hard way.)
After the doctor's brutal examination she announces that baby's head was too far up and not coming down and I was ordered not to push anymore. Really. Don't push? Have you ever been fully dilated and told not to push? I questioned how I could do this as I couldn't control it and was told to suck on the gas and I would be given an epidural to numb me so I wouldn't feel the urge to push any longer. To this day I still sit here wondering how on earth she was ever meant to move down without me pushing? And as my memory serves, she only went into distress after I was told not to push.
Then they gave me some kind of drug to speed up my contractions. So here I was 'chained' to a bed, fully dilated, ordered not to push, being given drugs to speed up my contractions and an effing needle in my back, to be told after two hours: the baby hasn't moved down, her heart rate keeps dropping, we are cutting her out. I was awash with fear and extreme disappointment. I felt a complete failure and utterly ashamed of my body and its sudden inability to birth this baby.
Before I had time to process this information I was given a run through of what was about to happen and the risks associated with it and a consent form was shoved in my face to sign. I remember saying "I will sign on the condition that I be given one more chance to birth her vaginally once in theatre", to which the doctor agreed.
Once in this cold sterile room. The doctor again shoved her arm into me and even though I didn't want one, I was very thankful for the epidural at this point, because she didn't say a word before doing so. She then said the baby hadn't moved down yet so a c-section it was. I feel as though I could have been more forceful and said no, said anything. But by this stage I was overcome by fear that my baby was in trouble. And that there was no other option.
Years later I read a blog post about preparing to homebirth and watched countless videos online. I honestly felt reborn: cleansed of my bad experiences. And suddenly it dawned on me. I want to bring another child into our family. I long for it. But this time I am doing it MY way. No more will I be told what or how or be forced to birth a certain way. I believe in the power of my body. I believe in the journey of labour. But most of all I believe that this is how it was always meant to be. My husband is over them moon. Reading that blog post has changed my life, my family's life and the belief in my body's abilities more than you can ever imagine.
I honestly would never have changed my mind about having another child if I had not of read that blog post. I'm so excited to add a new addition to my family with renewed faith in birth.
It is important for women to hear the stories of birth trauma survivors. It is important because it can help women weighing their options make a more informed choice and because through telling their stories, survivors can begin to process what was done to them. As Rebecca demonstrated: the realisation that you are not to blame for the assaults made on your body is emotionally and psychologically liberating.
I am so grateful to Rebecca for sharing her experience. Surviving obstetric violence and living with the literal and metaphoric scars is no small feat. It is an ongoing battle of heart, mind and body to heal. Finding the courage to consider birthing again is a big step forward and I wish Rebecca all the love and support in the world to see her through to finally getting the home birth she has missed twice, now.
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