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Kya's Birth of Benjamin
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There is a lot of story between my first birth and my second birth. I put it here so that those who want the boring personal details can read them and those who are just here for the birth story can ignore the extended version of my tale.
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At 8 months pregnant with my son, I returned to the same birth center my daughter and niece had been born in four years before. This time I was welcomed and cared for by my original midwife's partner, "Auntie" Val, a 'mama bear' midwife with a strong personality and a personal affection for me. My first birth had become a part of one of her favorite midwife stories because she'd had a predictive dream about some of the more unusual events surrounding the births she witnessed that day. She was also a fan of my daughter's name and couldn't wait to see what we were going to pick for baby #2. Not only that, but I had called on her months before to see if she had any names of Kentucky midwives before I moved down there in my sixth month and (as she had some idea of the state of midwifery in Kentucky at the time) she had been pretty concerned for me.
So, when I returned to Michigan, heavily pregnant and looking for a midwife, she quickly became my very best friend.
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I was living with my sister and her 6 daughters during my final weeks of pregnancy. My baby's daddy moved up from Kentucky shortly after I did but he was staying at a mutual friend's house 15 miles away and I was unsure about our relationship at the time. It was a pretty stressful affair for all concerned.
My sister's newborn baby was an adorable and happy nursling (only 12 days old on my son's birthday) and I anxiously waited for my little boy to arrive. I was soooo ready to give birth... :)
I kept my 39 week appointment at the birth center and the doctor/midwife trainee, Gabrielle, wanted to check my cervix. She fumbled and fussed around before calling in Auntie Val to double check what she thought she was feeling. Gabrielle had been gentle and unsure, but Val reached inside me, pulled my cervix into her hand, told Gabrielle that she had to be more forceful with cervical exams and took my breath away with the pressure of the whole ordeal. I can't remember now just how far along Val told me I was but I do remember her telling me, as she removed her bloody glove, that she'd stripped my membranes while she was in there "to help me out".
It might very well have "helped". I started getting some gentle and well-spaced out contractions shortly after I left the birth center that day. I went to visit with Amy, the friend I'd asked to tend to my daughter during the birth, at her place right after my prenatal exam. We wanted to have a little "getting to know you" time for her and Faerin before the actual birth. When I left, after the visit, I warned Amy to get some sleep as I'd probably be calling for her sooner, rather than later.
Faerin and I went home and I stayed up talking to my sister through the evening. Around midnight I went to the bathroom and wiped away some of my mucus plug. My sister and I had been joking for weeks about just how important looking at the toilet paper becomes during those final weeks, so I left the bathroom and reported that I'd finally found what I'd been looking for. The strange things that amuse pregnant women... lol.
I called Douglas (not yet my husband) and told him to get some sleep because I might need him soon. Of course, he didn't. My call started his adrenaline pumping and he raced around all night finishing up the things he felt needed finishing before he could come and take me to the birth center.
I went to bed and slept soundly till morning.
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Morning, Thursday, August 1st
(Birthday)
I was brushing my teeth in front of the bathroom sink when my water broke. Just a warm trickle, not the monumental gush I experienced when my midwife broke them last pregnancy. It's the only time my waters have ever broken spontaneously. Kind of a cheap thrill for me. :)
I called Douglas and Valerie. Doug got on his motorcycle and raced to my side (he loved the idea of getting pulled over and being able to say, "My wife's in labor!!!" like the guys in the movies. Though I can't imagine what an officer would have said, considering I was nowhere to be seen...). Valerie was unconvinced and told me to wait until things got more serious. I think she wanted more sleep...
I really didn't want to labor in between my sister and our 7 collective daughters, so when Doug got to the house, I convinced myself that this was it and called the birth center again. They OKed my coming in and we set off, Faerin, Douglas and I. We told Amy to meet us there.
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I labored walking around, in the tub, on the bed, in the rocking chair. Valerie determined that the baby was posterior and turned him "the right way round" but he was still "slow" in coming and I was having a hard time keeping calm and focused during my painful contractions.
Besides my family and Amy, the birth center was bustling with midwives and trainees. Valerie was holding classes for 3 of her students, with me as the subject, and she called in at least one more person before my baby was born. Gabrielle had her toddler there as well. To say that I was distracted and unfocused would be a serious understatement.
At some point, I was convinced to lie back on the bed and push. I guess that another internal exam must have shown me to be "complete" but I don't recall having any internal sense that I was ready to push yet.
I began "purple pushing" to the chorus of women counting to 10 over and over again. After an extended session of this, Valerie decided that I needed help and pulled out her (now infamous) vacuum extractor. She went on and on about how she'd gotten it and how she'd been trained to use it. The process of placing the cup on my unborn son's head was probably the single most painful experience of my life. She continued to explain how she needed to force my cervix back and how it would all be over soon as I begged her to STOP and told her to get her hands (both of them now) OUT of me. I was in tears and nearly begged for a transport but I stopped the words as they threatened to leave my mouth. Instead I decided to surrender to my midwives.
Valerie directed Gabrielle to apply fundal pressure (push on my belly). She had one student midwife hold each of my legs and push my knees up to (I swear) my ears as she vacuumed my baby out.
I felt completely and totally out of control of my birth. I felt exposed and violated, not to mention the pain and exhaustion. I had pushed so hard that my face was swollen and I couldn't see clearly anymore. I had burst several blood vessels in my eyes, though I didn't realize that until after the birth. It was an awful way to birth.
But, it was drug and scalpel-free and my baby was born alive and well. So I guess I can't complain too much.
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Benjamin was born over my intact perineum (not sure how I managed that miracle) and placed in my arms around 6:30pm, about 7 hours after I arrived at the birth center.
The midwives huddled in the reception area and debriefed the birth together. Valerie admitted that she probably over reacted and over managed my birth but she said it was because she couldn't bear to watch me suffer, she cared about me too much. I felt honored at the time, but now, 7 years later, I feel like I was raped by a gang of midwives during my "natural" birth.
Benjamin had a huge 16" head, even with the molding of his skull bones (the biggest head Val said she'd seen in over 1000 births). Valerie was concerned about his difficult start in life and called in a cranio-sacral specialist to give him an adjustment within an hour or so of his birth. His cord was left alone until the specialist arrived and he was taken from me for the first time. We spent the night together in the bed he was born in and returned to my sister's house the next morning.
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To make a long story even longer...
Valerie didn't like the fact that Doug and I had 2 children but weren't married yet. So she decided to throw us a wedding at the birth center. We were sent home and told to get a marriage licence before my 5 day check. It took us a week, but we got the licence and when we returned to the birth center for my post-partum visit, Valerie's bishop married us. Because I was still a new mama we all sat on the couch in the reception area through the ceremony (don't want new mamas to stand up for too long, ya' know) and I became Mrs. Douglas Fouts surrounded by midwives with my daughter by my side and my newborn son sleeping on my lap.
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Years afterwards, I get my wake-up call:
Since my Benjamin's birth, Valerie has been charged (but aquitted? don't know for sure here...) with the death of another newborn who was born with her vacuum extractor pulling on its head. The original charges stated that the pressure from the vacuum extractor caused tissue damage to the infant's brain (the details were pretty gruesome) but Valerie insisted that the baby was a victim of a birth defect and not her device.
I have no idea what the truth is. I wasn't there and have seen virtually no coverage of the legal proceedings. When the story broke, I began to question the idea that Valerie acted in my best interests during Benjamin's birth. I only realized that my birth was more like a rape after hearing of the charges filed against my midwife.
If there's any lesson to be learned here, it's that any birth attendant can cross the line between witnessing birth and offering mamas help when they ask for it, and manipulating birth despite the mother's desires. My birth fell into the latter category and I'll probably spend the rest of my life talking to women about the difference so that they don't unknowingly fall into the same trap I did.
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Birth Rape:
It looks so petty in print, my "birth rape" and maybe it really is petty. After all, I have a bright and beautiful 7 year old son, no lasting physical damage and a wedding ring on my finger now. But I was violated, by women I trusted, without medical cause for the violation. There is no legal protection for the rights of laboring women to say NO to invasive procedures that their birth attendants deem "necessary".
The hands of another human being were inside me. I screamed NO and begged her to stop. Not one person, not even the man I loved sitting beside me, thought that my NO meant anything. My body was violated, my will was violated and it was considered "normal". It meant nothing to anyone, not even me.
Until I recognized that my right to say NO didn't end when I became pregnant or even when I went into labor, I assumed that my birth was natural, normal and good. Once I realized that my rights were violated during my birth, my life changed forever.
Pregnant women have a right to privacy, even (or maybe, particularly) genital privacy. That right doesn't end when labor begins. It should never end. Women deserve the right to say NO and be taken seriously at any and every point in their lives. No doctor, no midwife, no stranger, no husband, NO ONE should be allowed to violate them without consequence, ever again!
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