The story of my daughter's birth - Part 1

So, I guess I should probably give a little background info on myself, and tell you the story of my first, and, thus far, only, daughter's pregnancy and birth. This might help explain why I started this blog and what I hope to accomplish with it.

Part 1

I was in the Army when I found out I was pregnant. I had just married my husband in January and by September we got the two little pink lines. We were ecstatic, since we had been trying to conceive (TTC) for about three months. But it also meant a host of changes in the way the future was going to play out for us. My husband was also a soldier, and our unit was getting ready to deploy again to Iraq. Finding out I was pregnant meant that I wouldn't be able to deploy, until 4 months after I had the baby. And then we would have to someone to watch this brand new baby for us until our tour of duty was over. I was due in May and the tour ended in December of that same year. I chose not to think too hard about what it would be like to hand over my baby while I went to Iraq, so I just put it out of my mind and carried on in a blissful haze of new pregnancy. I would keep my daydreams strictly within the realm of happy, quick delivery and then peaceful happy baby. And life would be good. The End.

But as I kept talking to other soldiers, I started to hear stories about deliveries at the hospital on post, and the mistakes that were made there. Most of the other female soldiers who were pregnant started feeling uncomfortable about that hospital, but as military members, we were all obligated to go there. End of story, unless you want to pay out of pocket for a place that can't cater to the Army's expectations. And soldiers are poor, so Army hospital was our only option. But still I tried to keep positive and would tell myself that those are just the horror stories, and other women just like telling them to scare the newbies, as it were.

But soon I started to become dissatisfied with the care the gave. After confirming I was indeed pregnant, they assigned me a due date which was about a week sooner than I had calculated. In our attempts at TTC, I had been tracking my body and I knew when I conceived. But I couldn't possibly know more than a paper wheel. I didn't think it was something to get worked up about, so I let it go and didn't push the issue. Besides, they only gave me that info while they squeezed me in between real patients, so I didn't want to bother them and take up time that wasn't mine.

And then I had my only real scare of pregnancy. I was still in my first trimester, probably about 8 or 9 weeks in, and our unit, to include my husband, had been sent for month-long training in Louisiana as a prep for the deployment. This meant that all the injured, non-deployables and pregnant soldiers were left at home to see to the menial daily duties. One of these duties was to oversee the barracks day and night. With so few people left, I was assigned this duty, and every third day I worked a 24 hour shift. That is 24 hours with no sleep, confined to a space about as large as a small apartment living room. It was a fairly miserable situation, made even worse by heaving day and night into a common-area toilet, with an audience of roaches. But after a 3 weeks of this, my body started to tell me that I couldn't handle this schedule. I would get migraines that would affect my stomach, so I couldn't hold anything down for any length of time more than 2 minutes. And I started to fall asleep at the wheel while trying to drive home after a shift. I would call my mom early in the morning to have her talk to me while I took the back roads home so i wouldn't drive off the freeways. It was generally miserable. But the final straw was when I began spotting. I know that spotting can be completely normal during pregnancy, but something was telling me that the stress of this schedule was threatening the health of my baby. So I called the hospital's advice line, trying to get some official support in asking to be taken off of this shift. Instead I got a snippy nurse telling me "if you're gonna miscarry, then you're gonna miscarry. There ain't nothing we can do." The lack of sensitivity of the staff still amazes. But I wined enough that she allowed me an appointment to see a doctor, and that doctor did a quick ultrasound and found a heartbeat. I was incredibly relieved, but still I had to persist in questioning him whether working 24 hour shifts every 3 days was healthy for me. He wasn't really listening, but I think he mumbled something about it might not be that great, but it shouldn't kill me. So I took what I needed from that statement (the " it might not be that great" part) and took that to my sergeants. After some arguing and pleading, I managed to make it not worth their time to keep discussing it and I got my schedule changed. After that, I had a fairly easy pregnancy.

Since this is getting kind of long, and I have much more to go, I think I will spare your eyes and continue this in my next post. I promise I will finish this in one other post, since I have been looking into some topics that I would like to start getting into soon.

Why did I start this blog?

I love home births. I think they are a fabulous, safe, and natural way to give birth when attended by a knowledgeable midwife and a well-prepared mother. To me, it is the way birth should be. As women, we are designed to carry babies and give birth to them, yet so few of us ever really understand this function. So, I want to start this blog to help get the word out about birth the way nature intended, and try to help women make smart choices when it comes to this life changing event. And while I am a proponent of home birth, I do understand that not every pregnancy/woman is right for this choice. And I do understand that some medical interventions are necessary. I just need to do my part to help get this information out there, and empower women to make the right choice for them.

Within a few months of finding out I was pregnant, I had decided that home birth was the option for me. I did my research, and I read books, and I listened to my heart. I spent the time thinking about what I wanted for my daughter, and what was the best way to achieve that goal. And I had help. I had the support of family and friends, some of whom are midwives and home birthing mamas. I used every available resource I had to make my decision. Yet, in the end I still found myself in a hospital, having a cesarean; a complete 180 degrees from where I envisioned my birth. But that is ok. I know that I did all that I could to educate myself, and I made the best decision I could for my baby. And I share all that with you to help you understand where I am coming from. I know how unpredictable births can be, but I still think we as women need to take our power back when it comes to our laboring bodies. And so I dedicate this blog to all those women who felt powerless in labor, and all those who wanted something more than they got. And mostly I want to dedicate this blog to my daughter, Journey, who has taught me that I can be a mother without birthing my baby myself, and to try to change the world a little at a time, so that when she is ready to have her own children, she has the ability to trust in her own body and doesn't give up her power to anyone.