The time finally came to deliver. It was late evening, of course. Instructed by my midwives that I was to call in at a certain interval between contractions, I eventually went in to the birth center to deliver. I labored in the warm, jetted tub full of water attended by a midwife, a nurse, and my husband. Being in the water met every expectation I had about minimizing labor pains. With labor not progressing in the physical position I was in (think reclining in a hot tub on a tropical vacation) I was gently encouraged by my midwife to eventually try different positions outside of the water. She told me if I didn't like it, I could get back in. She was right however. Within a half-hour my firstborn son came into the world and without a peep. He was so peaceful, my husband and I wondered if something was the matter. Not at all. We hadn't even disturbed him it seemed.
We all moved seamlessly to the double bed six feet away to nestle in and figure out this new creature that came into our lives. The midwife and nurse did their checks on my son and me. Later that same day, a pediatrician came to discharge my son from the birth center, a legal requirement, and we were home by 3 pm about to start our new normal. A midwife visited me at home several days later for a routine check-up.
In retrospect, coming to the decision of using a midwife was profound. Seeing how I waited until my mid-thirties to get pregnant, I had plenty of time to mull over, if even in the back of my mind, how it ought to be done. Although I never seriously considered becoming a mother until the latter part of my life, I know my expectations for birth were shaped by my mother's experience of being a nurse. I am hard-pressed to think of something more personal or critical than choosing how and where to give birth. I did not want to be a cog in a well-oiled hospital machine. I did not want a sterile-looking environment. I did not want constant checks and interruptions from medical staff before or afterward. After all, I was giving birth, not having surgery, not ill, or in no grave danger.
Had I not had the choice of using a midwife and the birth center, I might only have had one child. Instead, buoyed by my positive experience at the birth center, I gave birth to my second son at the birth center, and this time, in the water.
All this being told, I was and still am a reluctant birther. I had no illusions of labor and delivery being a peaceful or blissful event. It is labor. There is no getting around that fact. I completely understand why women choose to use epidurals. I understand from a cultural and historical perspective why the hospital and doctors are the first place we consider. However, for me, it was about choosing how to birth my baby out of my own body. Knowing that the World Health Organization and the Mayo Clinic, to name a few, endorse (and train) midwives, coupled with the recent British National Institute for Healthcare including in their guidelines home births attended by midwives, it is clear that the pendulum for woman's healthcare options is swinging back. Formal recognition and endorsement of midwives by healthcare and insurance agencies allows women a safe option to give birth. Every woman should have that right.
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