It started in my Women's History class a year ago. We spent a day discussing the history of birth and how birthing has changed in America in the past 100 years or so. One of my classmates raved about a movie she watched on Netflix called the Business of Being Born. A few weeks later, when I was looking for something to watch on Netflix, I remembered her recommendation and decided to give it a shot. An hour and a half later, my mind and my life had been changed.
I figured when I had a baby, I would get an epidural. That's what everyone did, right? Thank goodness for modern medicine that would take away the pain from this scary experience. I didn't understand what a "natural" birth meant, even though my mom had all her nine kids naturally; I assumed it was just the opposite of a C-section. And I had heard of home births and midwives, but that sounded like the most hippie and backwards idea--you might as well go have your baby in a cornfield while you're at it. People shared horror stories of labor lasting for hours or days, and TV always portrays it as a traumatic emergency. The woman suddenly crying out in pain, grasping her stomach, "the baby is coming." There's panic to find towels and water, encouraging onlookers telling her to "push," and moments later, the mother screams, sometime cursing the husband at the same time, and then she had a baby. I'm not ashamed for thinking this way because I was uneducated in a society that doesn't talk about birth, or rather, what birth could be.
As I watched the Business of Being Born, I recognized how biased it was--obviously a proponent of unmedicated, out-of-hospital births. But at the same time, it was resonating with me. It made sense. They showed clips of births, both in and out of the hospital, and I began to understand what it really was like to have a baby, what a midwife actually offered, and what it meant to have a natural birth. The film was a great educating tool in many ways, but it also informed me that I wasn't informed. I had no idea there were options when it came to birth. After watching that film, I researched my options.
Granted, I wasn't pregnant at the time. I was baby-hungry, sure, but I had been baby-hungry since I was like, six. I knew it wasn't pertinent to my life at that exact moment, but I was interested enough and curious enough to learn more. I read articles, googled midwives in my area, and watched more videos. I think some of the most helpful materials were people's birth stories. I looked at both in and out of hospital stories and recognized that I had preferences and wants when it came to how I would someday birth. I discussed my findings with Stephen. He had some of the same concerns I initially had, but ultimately, he trusted me and he knew it was my decision since it would be my experience of actually being in labor and giving birth.
What if?
That was the biggest concern for me when I first started considering having a midwife and an out-of-hospital birth. What if something went wrong? There's a sense of security about having a baby in a hospital with all the interventions and emergency supplies at a doctor's fingertips. I wish I could find the exact quote, but somewhere along my research, I read about this. People go to the hospital when they're sick--but having a baby isn't a sickness. The mother isn't ill. Having a baby is a natural part of life, not a disease. People don't live in the hospital because of the fear that something might go wrong--they go to the hospital only when there's a complication. The same should be with childbirth. You can have a baby at home and then, if there is a complication or a need, you can go to the hospital, but otherwise, there's really no need.
Yeah, but what if?
I was still worried because of all the horror stories I had heard. Yeah, women have been having babies since Eve and the beginning of the world, but there's countless stories of women who die in childbirth, leaving their new baby an orphan (what happened to the dad, I don't know--that's just how the stories go, ok). (Seriously though, think Oliver Twist.) Or the stories of the baby only living a few hours or days before dying. There's the image of pioneers crossing the plains and burying their newborns who didn't survive. That's where the "thank goodness for hospitals and modern medicine" ideology came in.
But then I started looking at facts and statistics rather than fictional stories. I realized how many women were really "at risk" when it came to pregnancy (hint, it's like less than 10%) and how "at risk" I was when it came to pregnancy. I am young and healthy, and really, that eliminates a majority of concerns that might make a woman "at risk". The odds I would have a normal. low-risk pregnancy and delivery were like, 99%. Most of the horrors I was concerned about didn't apply to me.
Definitely advances in medicine play a factor to this, like stopping a lot of blood loss, or using ultrasounds and blood work to identify potential problems before labor. But these advances were not exclusive to hospitals--midwives are trained to handle these situations, and if they are concerned or notice anything abnormal that is beyond their skill or training, then they'll recommend other options, like going to a hospital, because that's when a hospital becomes useful.
Am I being a risk taker, or gambling over something so important as my child's life, or my life? Yes, but I also take a risk anytime I get into a car and drive, and honestly my chances there are much worse than in childbirth. And if the need arises that I should go to the hospital, I will, but until then, I'm going to keep driving and have my baby in a birthing center.
Why a birthing center?
This is mostly because of my preference. I view it as the middle ground between a hospital and a home birth. Because I live in an apartment that makes me surrounded by people on every side of me, I would feel more uncomfortable having a baby here. I have no idea what I'll be like in labor, but I'm probably not going to be quiet with my track record (I tend to be noisy even when I'm getting a massage on a muscle that's sore). Also, there's not much space in my apartment, and it's not the cleanest place to have a baby. I want to go to the birthing center because it's set up specifically for birth--clean, spacious, different tools and equipment handy (though midwives will bring anything necessary to a home birth) and they have a nice tub set up for water births.
P.S. Water births are super cool. No, the baby won't drown. They're surrounded by fluid in the womb already--they get their oxygen through the umbilical cord, and their reflexes for breathing won't kick in until air hits their mouth. And it's not like the baby sits underwater forever--they'll be brought to the surface as soon as they're able to. Water births are also known as nature's epidural and can reduce pressure on the back and stomach, as well as reduce tearing and relax the muscles. I would love to have a water birth, and I'm excited for that option when the time comes.
I chose the birthing center I'm using, Better Birth, for a few reasons besides the fact that it's a birthing center. This specific center has two offices--one in Orem and one in Salt Lake. Since I knew we would be moving during my pregnancy, by choosing this center, I wouldn't have to switch care providers because of the move. Also, the center I chose has a team of midwives, making someone available 24/7, even if it's just to call with a question or mild concern, which I've done a few times. I also chose this place because they have a student program where midwives are actually trained through the center.
I chose to do the student plan because my care would not be compromised--a certified midwife would be present for every appointment and during the birth, though the student would be the one who I interact with. The student takes the measurements and answers my questions, and the certified midwife adds her insights as needed and makes sure the student does things correctly. It's also neat because I get to learn a bit along with the student. And in all honesty, the student program costs less than the regular package, and that was enticing.
Now to the issue of cost. In most cases, buying quality means more expensive. I think of food and clothing in particular. Yeah, fast food is cheap and easy, but the quality of a dine in dish is obviously better than McDonald's. And while I'm really good at buying my clothes cheap, they tend to wear our faster than if better quality fabric was used. You would think the same would apply to birth. When I realized that having a midwife, at least for me, meant more quality care, I figured it would be out of my price range.
However, the opposite was true. Using the birthing center and paying for it without insurance was cheaper than having a hospital birth with insurance. Most insurance plans had a deductible higher than the total cost of my pregnancy with the midwife. This includes all of my prenatal visits as well as labor and delivery. To sum up, hospital care is far more expensive than midwifery care. Because of Stephen working over the summer, we saved up enough to pay the entire cost already, so having a baby won't put us in debt, or even set us back any (buying all the baby supplies might, but that's a different story).
But what about the pain?
This will be the final concern I address. Short answer: "how should I know? I've never been in labor." But there's more to it than just that. I don't know. I don't know what if feels like to have contractions, or to move a baby through my body, or to have the need to push for hours after having labor pains for hours before that. But I also don't want to be scared of it. Our culture emphasizes the pain without discussing the miracle that is happening. While all the odds might be in my favor, it is still a miracle for a child to be born.
My body is designed to give birth. I know there are many women who are unable for whatever reason to have children, but the female body is still designed to have a baby and give birth. I believe it is divinely designed to do so. So far, my body has known how to grow a baby without me trying--why would labor be any different? I didn't do anything to make sure I had a placenta, or to double check the umbilical cord provided the right amount of nutrition. Growing this child hasn't required intervention, and I don't think my labor will need it either.
Will it hurt? Probably. But there are ways to handle the pain besides numbing my body. The mental preparation is just as important as the physical preparation. I plan to move around during labor, to do stretches, to use water or massage or relaxation techniques or nitrous oxide or exercise balls or whatever helps. But ultimately, I don't want to blindly run to an epidural without knowing what the cause of all this commotion is really about. I've never been in labor to know I want an epidural, and it's an important enough decision that I don't want to make it based on other people's horror stories. You're going to have to ask me again after I have my baby if I made the right choice. But honestly, I feel spiritually that I have.
This leads me to my final thought. I've addressed a lot of concerns and gone through a lot of explanations, but ultimately, there's one giant factor here that I have to address to do this topic justice. Faith. I have faith in the Plan of Salvation which God put into place to give His children a body. I believe in the importance of having a body and I understand my role as mother in Zion to help create the bodies for a few of His children. I am humbled by it. God has entrusted me to mother one of His special spirits, to nurture that spirit from the very beginning by letting their body grow inside me.
I have faith that God cares about me and about my child. We are both very important to him. I also have faith that God is not going to abandon us, especially in times of need. If having children is so essential to God's plan, I have faith He's going to assist me in this work. I believe my body to be divinely inspired with the ability to carry forth His plan of giving His children bodies insomuch that I have faith that labor and delivery can be one of the most spiritual experiences I will ever have. I am excited to experience it in a setting of my choosing, one that I feel is most conducive to the kind of delivery I want. I understand the risks and the worries and the what ifs, but I also understand the Gospel and my Heavenly Father and the enabling power of the Atonement. I have faith God will enable me to accomplish His work of bringing this child into the world. That is more powerful than any fear, and contraction, any statistic.
I know having my baby with a midwife at a birthing center is the right option for me--I've come to know this through prayer and a spiritual confirmation. If other women receive a different answer, then that's great for them, and they should do whatever they feel is right. This doesn't eliminate the need to be educated and informed. I'm so grateful I stumbled into the issue of birth and recognized it as something I needed to learn about. I am not an expert, and I'm sure there's plenty more arguments and concerns and ideas. But for me and my baby, this is the choice I've made, and with God as my support, I look forward to the day I get to welcome Paige into the world and into our family.
