Once upon a time, I was pudgy teenage girl with frizzy hair and raging orthodontic issues. No boy had ever looked twice at me. I know...sad story. So when I was 15 years old, I was sure no one would ever love me. So I made it a decision, like it was what I wanted: I wasn’t getting married and I was NOT having kids. I had seen Alien and Aliens and Alien Resurrection. And maybe it’s cliche, but pregnancy didn’t look much different to me.A couple of years later, I was very passionate about music and determined to become a professional singer/songwriter. I was starting to gain confidence in my abilities and also in myself. I imagined maybe—just maybe—there was someone out there for me. But I wanted my capital-C “Career.” So I decided—fine, I’d get married. But he would have to know that I was going to be a musician on tour for most of the time. And he would have to follow me around. And I was still not having kids. But maybe I could adopt.
A little while later, when my music plans (for reasons that are much too complicated for this story) fell through/changed and I had no clue what I was supposed to do with my life, I decided I would get married. Because who wouldn’t want me?! (Ha. Yeah right!). And maybe—just maybe—I would have one kid. Because this world needed a mini-me running around it.
A bit after that, when I had met The Man Of My Dreams and we were definitely going to spend The Rest Of Our Lives together, we discussed our desires for our family. I still wanted just one. He wanted twelve. We did eventually compromise at six. He convinced me because well, I was charmed by the idea of having 6 of him (much of that charm has been tempered by time and knowing), and because of math. He said he wanted to make a tribe of 50 in 3 generations. Our 6 kids x their 6 kids each + their 6 spouses + us 2 parents = 50. Impressive isn’t it. Anyway, I’ve have the kids, but I was definitely getting an epidural the minute the stick turned blue.
Fast-forward several years to when I’m actually starting to think, sure...I could do this. I could be a mom. I meet a chick named Cori. If there is one word that describes Cori, it’s “passionate.” She carries this passion about a LOT of things, but one that stood out was her advocacy for natural birth. Sure, I’d heard of people giving birth sans drugs. And I had briefly considered it. As far as I understood, an unmedicated birth was an ego boost. The only benefits were bragging rights. And as an arrogant and competitive person, I thought it’d be cool to be able brag that I was That Tough. I figured, I’d try to do it without the meds, and if I couldn’t handle it, #NBD.
But I am definitely a person inspired by others’ passions. At first I thought Cori was…fanatical. Radical. Natural birth is cool and all, but why be so extreme about it? Didn’t The Good Lord give us beautiful medicine to do things like birth babies this better than our ancestors could have?! *angst* Well, somewhere along the line, I started reading the articles she posted. The first one was about tears versus episiotomies. I was immediately traumatized by the notion that something so violent could happen to my special parts. But I was intrigued by the notion that natural birth could be different. So I read some more. And I read some more. And finally I was like—yeah, you know what? I can see how natural birth could be better for me. I guess I’ll try my very best to do it that way. I’ll even take a natural birth class, maybe. But if in the heat of the moment, I think I really need drugs, I’ll get them, and know at least I did my best for myself.
Cue first Birth Boot Camp video (we took the online class because we moved), and Donna Ryan begins her lesson with—if you’re going to do a natural birth, you have to commit to it. Don’t go into it thinking you can change your mind, because then you won't try. And I remember thinking—RUDE. You don’t know me! *ghetto style* But I decided then, okay. This chick is like an expert or whatevs. I’ll do it. I’ll commit with the understanding that there is a small percentage of people who actually do need medical intervention. So I’ll be rational about that if the time comes.
Then I learned about the cascade of interventions and its side effects. And what convinced me was not how natural birth was better for me, but how it was better for my baby and our relationship. Then I was all in, ready to do everything in my power to have a real normal natural birth. But I knew myself. I knew I’m a sucker when it comes to pain. My entire life I have fought against pain. The second I feel a headache come on, I pop pills. I take ibuprofen days in advance of period cramps, then double up with acetaminophen when the pain actually hits. I never want to feel the tiniest amount of pain. So I knew if I was going to have a natural birth, I was going to need all the support I could get. Ray, as always, was way ahead of me on this whole process. The minute we discovered I was pregnant, he set about earning an honorary degree in pregnancy and labor for all the reading he was doing. I knew we had the same goals and he would push me to do what I knew I wanted to do but perhaps wasn’t mentally strong enough to do. He coined the phrase “supportive, not soft” to describe himself and how he imagined he’d be when I was laboring. That’s Ray. He would keep me on track, but he may not be the most comforting. So we set out to find a doula.
We interviewed three and met another one. Doula #1 was great. I loved her personality. But she wasn’t certified. That wasn’t a big deal to me, but there were two problems which determined I wouldn’t hire her: 1) the hospital claims to be very strict about allowing only certified doulas in the delivery room (this turns out to be untrue as no one checked my actual doula’s credentials when we got there!) and 2) she wasn’t forthcoming about her certification status. I think I’d have been glad to help her on her way to getting certified. But she passed herself off as certified, and that just doesn’t fly for me. Doula #2 was the opposite. Certified for like 12 years. So obviously very experienced. But her personality didn’t jive with mine. I knew almost immediately that she would not be a comforting presence for me. Doula #3 was just right. Danielle Freudenberg was the perfect blend of professional and personable. I walked away from our meeting sure I would call her and hire her. And I did. #bestdecisionever
This was my labor prep. You can read about the birth here.
Resources We Consumed in Anticipation (or are still consuming…)
Pregnancy
What To Expect When You’re Expecting by Heidi Murkoff, etc. (Book/App)
Baby Center (App/Website)
Labor and Birth
Birth Boot Camp online class and book
The Birth Book by Dr. William and Martha Sears
The Birth Partner by Penny Simkin
Natural Hospital Birth by Cynthia Gabriel
Childbirth Without Fear by Grantly Dick-Read
Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin
The Business of Being Born (documentary available on Netflix)
More Business of Being Born (documentary available on Netflix)
Breastfeeding
The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding by La Leche League
Ina May’s Guide to Breastfeeding by Ina May Gaskin
The Nursing Mother’s Companion by Kathleen Huggins
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