Who's driving this thing, anyway?

It occurs to me that I haven't introduced myself.  There is some personal history that motivates me to write this blog and advocate to anyone who'll listen - and speak loudly enough that those who choose to disregard me cannot help but overhear - about birth choice.

In May of 2008, I gave birth, vaginally and without pain management or medical intervention, to our daughter, Glynis, after 35 weeks 5 days gestation (or exactly 36 weeks, depending on how you choose to do the math).  We were attended by a midwife and a midwifery student who acted as our doula.  Ours was a hospital birth, and a pediatrician was present because of the pre-term nature of our daughter's birth.  Despite the research, and her APGAR of 9 at birth, Glynis was clamped and cut immediately, and handed to the pediatrician to be taken across the room to where I could barely see her to be poked and examined.  My midwife administered a shot of pitocin to chemically manage the third stage of labour.  I didn't get to hold my baby, my first child, for about an hour after her birth.

My labour was fantastic.  It really was.  I can't say enough good things about how it felt to be swept along on the power of physiological labour.  It was awesome to see how my body could be so strong, so amazing, so powerful.  But the circumstances surrounding the immediately ante-natal period are just not good.  Our choices were ignored, our birth plan disregarded, our consent not obtained, and evidence-based care not administered.

It was months, truly, before I became angry about the circumstances of our daughter's birth.  For 8 weeks following her birth, we fought like hell to establish a successful breastfeeding relationship - and we did succeed, thanks to Dr. Jack Newman's help and support via email and one 7-hour long drive to see him - so I was just happy that my baby was healthy.  But as time and distance allowed me a more objective perspective, I began to realise that what had transpired was not acceptable.  It was not necessary for things to have occurred as they did, and events as they played out may have even exacerbated our trouble with nursing.*

By many perspectives, I had a good birth.  I am "lucky".  I "should be happy".  And, comparatively, I am.  I could have had an ob who tried to pressure me into an unnecessary epidural.  I could have had my child whisked off to the NICU and fed formula and sugar water just because of her dates and birth weight (5.5 lb: pretty good for a 36 weeker, actually) regardless of her actual health.  I didn't, and for that I am, most definitely, glad.  But her birth could have been handled better.  It should have been handled better.

So now I advocate.  I try to educate.  I speak loudly and passionately about birth choice and informed consent and refusal and evidence-based care.  I encourage women to ask questions, to listen to their gut, and to really think about what they want and think is best.

*half-way down the page: “It seemed to me that the babies in which we had delayed cord-clamping were just stronger. They nursed better, they were calmer babies.”