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My thoughts, feelings and perceptions about the births of my 5 children have shifted and changed with hindsight, and this continues to happen, as I continue to reflect on and ponder the incredible journey of motherhood.
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Birth is such a paradoxical and poetic passage–earth, blood grit, and also metaphor. All mothers live out our births in reality, and then on and on in the narratives we construct about what birth is about for us, and about who we become through our birth experiences and as parents. In utero, our babies swim suspended, and then they emerge from our bodies…but the birth process itself encompasses a multitude of stages within stages, and we women are also passing through the landscape of birth, into motherhood. So many thresholds to cross.
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I have been thinking quite a bit lately, in particular, about membranes, and waters, and the liminalities and fluidities of birth and birthing, in all its actual and poetic manifestations. Water really is the stuff of life, from the surface of the earth, to sperm and saliva. Throughout our moon cycles, throughout our lives, our bodies drip and weep and bleed and leak in their joyful alchemy of liquid magic. So much has been written about our oceanic beginnings, and the shock and change of what birth must be like for our infants: from the floating world, propelled by the rhythmic waves of birth through the embrace of the birth canal, and then earthside.
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Because I have had the privilege of dictating exactly how my children will be welcomed during their first moments of life on the outside world, it strikes me so profoundly that there really is such an incredible range of experiences we humans have, during our first contact. Fluorescent lights and the rape of the bulb syringe, or soft voices, kisses, warm skin? One of the biggest lies is that birth is unimportant. They’re just babies. They won’t remember anyway.
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Furthermore, we, as a culture, seem to still be unconscious about the fact that there is no separation or distinction between the mother and the baby, and that all the things that are done to mothers during the birth process are also experienced by the infant.
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One of the most common interventions in the industrial birth system, is the artificial rupture of membranes, or AROM, or “amniotomy”. This refers to “breaking the waters”, or the amniotic sac, with a long hook, (or in some cases, a fingernail) rather than simply allowing the waters to break spontaneously, or allowing the baby to be born “in the caul”, which is still in many circles considered to be a sign of good luck, and protection against death by drowning. There is rarely any good reason to artificially rupture a birthing woman’s membranes, and in fact, there are many reasons *not* to, and many complications that may arise as a result of AROM, including increased risk of cord prolapse, increased risk of infection, etc. The most persistent reason for practitioners to perform an AROM is that it supposedly speeds up the birthing process, but recent research shows that this may not actually be the case, and I strongly believe that the risks outweigh any perceived benefit.
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I have also noticed that there seems to be a widespread phenomenon of caregivers artificially rupturing a woman’s membranes *without her consent*, and in many cases, without even informing her that this is about to happen. I know several personal friends who have experienced this during their births, and it is, unequivocally, an assault, illegal, and it is shocking to me that this occurs on such a large scale throughout the so-called developed world in 2013 when women are supposed to have a right to informed consent, to bodily integrity, and the right not to be sexually abused by their doctors. (I have a lot more to say about this).
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Prior to the birth of my first baby at just shy of 43 weeks, I had friends over to my house. Tea had just been made, and I was walking across my living room with mugs in hand, when my waters broke in grand theatrical fashion, with a gush an d a trickle. It was so exciting! My birth process did not begin in earnest until about 6 hours later, and then about 25 hours after that, Cedar was born.
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So when I became pregnant with my second child, despite knowing that only in 15% of pregnancies do the waters release prior to the birth process beginning, I had incorporated the waters rupturing spontaneously as the “normal” mark knowing birth was imminent. It wasn’t until I had been having sensations for several hours, that I finally admitted that this was, probably, birthday.
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As was the case during the birth of Cedar, my first son, my dear birth attendant, friend and mentor Gloria was in attendance during Kristjan’s birth as well. And as when I was giving birth to Cedar, I had (unfortunately) invited my whole family and a couple of friends as well, to be present (I don’t do this anymore! I genuinely recommend that a minimum of people are around during birth. No spectators!). Unlike Cedar’s birth which was very long, Kristjan was arriving fast, I could tell, and when Gloria arrived (I was living on one of BC’s gulf islands at the time), I was in the shower, and in crisis.
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I don’t like to use many of the terms commonly employed to describe birth, which I find can limit our perception of the experience, because birth is totally unique for every mother, every single time. You may notice that I don’t ever use the words “labour” or “delivery”, and I’m not a fan of the term “transition” either, because it strikes me as somewhat dismissive and maybe casual. And yet in all of my personal experiences giving birth, I have come to a point of extreme emotion, sometimes marked by fear or sadness or a sense of wanting to give up, and this usually does mark a shift in energy, and comes with a renewed sense of purpose.
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So when Gloria arrived at my house, I was in the shower, and I was in crisis, moving towards the birth of my baby. The way I was feeling when Gloria arrived was not what I had been expecting. Things were happening quickly, and I felt like I was being run over by a train. In the shower, I had started to hyperventilate, and to whine and cry. Gloria came in, and told me in no uncertain terms to get my shit together (said in the most loving, compassionate way possible,) and to get out of the bathroom and on to the bed. I felt immobilized, but somehow I made it into the bedroom.
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The most comfortable position for me was reclined, sitting against my tailbone, and as I started to push my baby out, I noticed a strange pressure. Reaching down I felt the amniotic sac bulging out of my yoni like a balloon. Despite having a very clear intellectual understanding of the process, and knowing that Gloria wouldn’t be cutting any part of my or my baby’s body, I still cried out in alarm, saying to Gloria “What is this?! What are you going to do? Are you going to pop it?!”
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Now, I have parsed all of my births to the utmost, and I have analyzed what worked and what didn’t work, but a true understanding of the significance of Kristjan’s birth, and of Gloria’s part in Kristjan’s birth hadn’t really dawned on me until recently. Until recently, I hadn’t come to a full understanding of how important this moment has been, for the rest of my life, and in terms of all of my subsequent births, and the fact that I have been able to face my fears and birth unassisted with security and joy. Gloria’s reaction to my alarm over the intact amniotic sac bulging out of my vagina was instrumental to my journey to really understanding on a visceral level, how completely normal, and inherently safe birth is.
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I was freaking out. The pressure was intense, and the foreign-ness of the bulging water-bag was actually quite distressing to me. It felt weird, and because of my reclined position, it also looked very weird. “What are you going to do?!” I said to Gloria. Something needed to be done. I needed to be helped, to be relieved, to be saved. “What are you going to do?!? Are you going to pop it?” I said, crying.
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Gloria came over to me, and very quietly, without any drama whatsoever, she said,
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“I’m not going to do anything. You’re going to push your baby out.”
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The very next moment I rode a strong sensation, and a push, and the amniotic sac shattered like glass, and the waters splashed all over my thighs, and my beautiful little boy swam out with an orgasmic wave of relief and elation and power, and I picked him up, and I just can’t even describe the incredible euphoria and happiness I felt when I saw his sweet fierce little face.
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The potential for birth–and life–to be dignified and beautiful and transformative is absolutely present for all of us.
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My children were born in 1968 and 1973. the first was an terrible hospital experience, can you believe a five day labour? My second, after a problem pregnancy with four months spent in hospital, was also born in a hospital. Another hospital, another doctor; yes long (about 30+ hours) but we were a team. For both births the joy of those sweet babies cancelled out any pain or indignities; I had no anesthesia for either.
Each birth is a miracle, each story differs; each babe is unique, however the garment of childbirth is constructed, the outcome is the same = our precious children. Thanks for another poignant look at your story.
Thanks for your comment, Valerie. I don’t agree that the universal sweetness of our babies cancels out indignity–for you perhaps, and that’s wonderful. But many women remain scarred long after they suffered abuse during their birth experiences. And while I still often hear the rhetoric that “all that matters is a healthy baby”, I don’t agree, nor do I necessarily agree that the outcome of birth is the same for every woman, or that it is simply our precious children. I do think our birth experiences matter, and the science of birth shows this to be the case physiologically, and psychologically. Sadly, I think the state of birth has worsened in the past 40 years, and that there are very few women today who could tell of spending several days in the hospital while giving birth, without being pressured (or forced) to accept anaesthesia–so amazing to hear that this was your experience! Good for you. 🙂
I’ve birthed 3 times and had 3 different (broken waters) experiences.
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After 8 hours of labour I journeyed to the hospital and experienced AROM upon arrival to help “speed things up”. Of course in the 3 minutes it took for her to say that and get the amniohook out, I mumbled yes. I was still in the era of believing hospitals and their midwives had my best interest at heart! Baby boy born around 5 hours later (after a pethidine injection, to help me cope with the intense labour that usually comes along after AROM)
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Even though my first birth was interfered with, I still found it an empowering experience and became excited about learning about birth. Of course I then discovered how dangerous AROM could have been and also the dangers of pethidine especially so close to actual birth. So for my second hospital birth (different hospital) I knew exactly what my rights were and went in prepared to fight for them (ridiculous).this was a much faster birth, and after 2 hours at home, we arrived at hospital. After another hour in the shower I asked for a chair, and when I sat down, my waters released. Baby boy born about 20 minutes later. (What happened in the hours after his birth cemented my distrust with the system, but that’s another story unrelated to the waters)
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This time after an uneventful pregnancy where I sought no pre-natal care whatsoever (due to my above mentioned distrust of “professionals”) I finally found a home birth midwife who would respect my no touch policy. A few days after passing the 38 week mark, I awoke early in the morning (around 4am) with a slight feeling of wetness, I jumped as best as I could! Out of bed thinking I was peeing myself. But as soon as I stood, liquid came gushing out. In my half sleepy state I still thought I was peeing, it was quite hilarious in my mind! I quietly backed out of the room, not wanting to wake my son, but every step I took, more liquid gushed out. I called to my husband and asked him to mop the bedroom floor, so the children wouldn’t slip in it. Still in the bathroom, I rolled a towel between my legs and that’s when I thought possibly it was my waters releasing. I went back to bed with the towel between my legs, waves started an hour later. Baby boy born at home in the water 5 hours after waters broke! Midwife respected all my wishes, just as she said she would, and restored a small amount of my faith in birth workers!
Anway, sorry for the novel! This topic (as well as many others, of course) highlights to me how vastly different each birth is, even for one woman!
I really enjoy your writings Yolande! Always gets me thinking.
X Shara
Ah, what a beautiful story Shara, thanks so much for sharing. Your “peeing the bed” sounds a lot like my experience birthing Treva, my 4th baby…I also woke up thinking I had had an accident (even though I was again almost 43 weeks pregnant), but Tree was in the world less than an hour after my waters released! So happy to hear you were able to find a caregiver who treated you property. Best to you and your family, Yolande
Just wanted to add that my births were in 2008, 2011 and the most recent was 11 weeks ago!
Ohmygoodness! Congrats! Happy babymoon!
The problem with the perspective that every women should have a natural hospital free birth is that there are too many factors that alter the birth process. What do you suggest women do to always end up with the birth of their dreams? Take for instance my case; I believed (or believe) in the “All natural birth” and the action I took to make sure I had the birth of my dreams was to hire a mid-wife and plan a home birth. I took care of myself throughout my pregnancy, I began to eat beef because I became anemic, I exercised, I practiced hypno-birthing, I rested, I did yoga, etc. BUT towards the end of my pregnancy my blood platelets began to drop and my liver enzymes were raising. The midwifes thought I had “HELLP” and they were pushing me to go into to hospital to induce. Of course since I was stubbornly determined to have a natural home birth, I took myself off their care and went to the hospital to have more tests done. At the hospital they said they didn’t see the need to induce, which is shocking because it should have been the other way around. Long story short, I began laboring at home until my water broke I decided to go to hospital because I no longer had a midwife and I didn’t feel comfortable doing it all alone because it wasn’t what I had planned neither did I know what to do if your water breaks other then to call your midwife. At the hospital I was in labor for 4 days. I HEARD my baby’s heart beat decelerating for 2 days and at that point the questions were: “is your baby at risk?” “Do I keep pushing to have a natural birth even though I hear her heart beat decelerating”? and my answer to these questions was: ” I give up, please help me, I don’t want to hurt my baby” and I ended up with a c-section. I was miserable, disappointed, sad, upset, angry, depressed because of my crushed dreams of a natural birth. My point is that even though we know that a natural birth or home birth might be a better for baby and mom, the factors that can alter the outcome or the process of birth are endless and most moms know simply the basics. Most women are clueless about low platelets, high liver enzymes, the positioning of the baby etc. In order for all women to have a completely natural and safe home birth, a woman would have to be extremely well versed in the birthing process to make the right decisions that would lead her to the desired outcome. Which is what you have done. You have dedicated a big part of your life to learning the birthing process; you have a mentor, you write about it and I’m sure constantly read about it. Other then that, hospital will always exist to assist women in their births because we need them, we don’t know enough about it so we allow them to do it for us.
Hi Angelica, thank you for your comment. I’m sorry that you didn’t have the birth you imagined for yourself and your baby. It sounds like you did absolutely everything you could to have a great birth, and to keep your baby safe, and that maybe you didn’t get the support you needed–of course, in hindsight it is impossible to say what could have been done differently for your birth to have been what you hoped for. Just being in the hospital environment can stall the birthing process–the importance of being in a familiar, quiet, safe and unobserved environment cannot be overstated. I do know many women who have safely given birth at home after their waters had released for several days. But I would just like to clarify that I definitely do not think that “every woman should have a natural hospital free birth”. I certainly acknowledge that in the case of true emergencies, the hospital services can be lifesaving for mothers and babies, and if I were ever in a situation in which I thought the hospital could save my baby’s life, I would go there myself. The evidence that shows me that most women don’t “need” the hospital, is the sheer number of human beings on the planet, and that prior to about 100 years ago, no one was born in the hospital. Since the beginning of humanity.
And it is true that I have spent many years researching birth, and learning about the physiology of birth. But what this research (and my experiences giving birth and supporting pregnant women) have taught me overwhelmingly is that women really don’t require book learning, or a clue about platelets or liver enzymes to give birth. In order to give birth, women need a uterus and a female body. And of course, a community of loving, supportive, women who understand what normal birth looks like, and who have given birth before, sure does help.
It really breaks my heart that so many mothers want a natural homebirth, but then end up with an experience so far from that. And I think that the majority of these women end up thinking that there is something wrong with their bodies, when I truly believe that there is something wrong with the system.
I wish you the very best Angelica, please take good care.
Yolande
I’m shocked to hear AROM happens without consent regularly in Canadian hospitals… such a HUGE transgression of rights. Thanks for a great post. X
Yes. And it is, in fact, illegal. But again, women during the birth process are routinely denied their rights and personhood. We have a long way to go. xoxo