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James' Birth

This is my son's sweet birth story. I haven't heard of too many other breech home births, and most people who hear about mine are very upset at the "risk" I took. I don't think there was anything risky about it. In fact I believe that home is the safest place of birth for most babies, and I undoubtedly saved my son as well as myself from what could have been a painful, traumatic, and very unnecessary hospital caesarean.

I knew I wanted a home birth soon after I discovered I was pregnant. I visited one birthing center with my husband to see what it was like, but decided that I would be the most comfortable in my own home. I found a CNM ( certified nurse-midwife) who did home birth's in my area, and drove once a month to her office in the next town for check-ups. Except for some nausea in the very beginning, I really had an easy, wonderful pregnancy. I loved being pregnant. That big belly, and feeling so alive and fertile! I read more in those nine months that all my years in school--everything from Spiritual Midwifery by Ina May Gaskin to the ever popular What to Expect When Your Expecting. I studied all the midwife manuals I could find on what to do during and after a birth, how to deal with shoulder dystoxia, breech presentations, and avoiding tears of the perineum. I think that home birth is really about taking responsibility for the births you experience, and what I read didn't scare or worry me; instead, it made me feel much more capable and strong in birthing my son.

If I had it to do over, I would never have involved a third party in this experience. I appreciated the pre-natal care, but when it came to the actual birth, the midwife and her partner clashed with me continuously. I plan to birth my future children in the safest of all environments--alone with only my husband. I went two weeks over my "due date" ( the first of many ridiculous criteria women subject themselves to), and am sorry to say I consented to using a small prostaglandin gel ( you apply this hormone to your cervix to soften it if it is ripe; not only was mine ripe, it was dialated two centimeters) which the midwife had given me on my last visit. They weren't going to come to my birth unless my son was born very soon, and at the time I was unsure that I could birth without them. I used a small amount of the prostaglandin, and went for a very long walk to try to start contractions. I explained to my baby how worried I was about birthing without the midwives, and how they wouldn't come unless he was born soon. I also apologized for rushing him like this--it was very unfair and weak for me to hurry him. I started having contractions a few hours later! I assured him it was a good day to be born--bright,sunny and cool. I began to feel so alive and juicy, I felt like I was just sparkling with light and life all over. I remember my husband looking up at me and smiling while he was sitting on the porch--he could see it too. By evening the contractions were in a lull--not to frequent. I let the midwives know, and also called a friend who lived five hours away and wanted to be and the birth too. My friend arrived around one a.m. with her toddler in tow. I was rocking in a chair and really rolling with the frequent contractions. I didn't fight the sensation. It was so strong, and forceful, and it felt good to just crawl into a squat on the floor and work through each of them. Everyone went to bed to get some rest after a moon lit walk (except me), although I did try to stay very low key, and conserve my energies by laying down awhile. I called around five a.m. to let the midwives know that contractions were getting pretty frequent, and by six the student midwife (who I had met and liked) arrived. She checked and said I was around nine and a half centimeters, but ( God bless her for this) decided not to mention that she felt a little butt, not a head working its way down. I know she felt how good this birth was going, and also knew the CNM would want me to go to a hospital if she knew my son was breech ( I wouldn't have gone). She just called them and let the CNM know how dialated I was.

I got into a warm bath at this point--the contractions were unbelievably strong, and all I could do was let my body take over. I remember making a lot of sounds--sort of like yelling, but stronger, as well as some deep sounds, like a lioness growling. By the time the CNM arrived and checked me, I was starting to get those "pushing sensations", and her announcement that the baby was breech was pretty drowned out by my announcement that I was pushing. I wasn't comfortable in the tub anymore, and the midwives helped me out ( my husband was almost in labor himself next to me, he was so exhilarated too). I told the midwife to hold me under my arms while I squatted and pushed--the way I had read women instinctly birth breech babies. The water bag appeared, bulging out intact. The midwife pointed it out to me, and asked if she could break it. I didn't see why not, as I could feel the baby moving down too. Looking back, I wish they wouldn't have bothered with that at all. I really wanted to keep squating, but the midwives were concerned that they couldn't "manage the body and head" with me like that, and coaxed me onto the bed, on my back, the WORST way to birth a breech, I have since learned. This is a good example of how outsiders disrupt births--my body was telling me what I needed to do, but the midwives were leading me in THEIR direction. Labor is a poor time to rely on oneself to defend what you want to do; if people are hanging around ready to "catch you when you fail" then it is very unlikely you will disappoint them. Another hour of pushing in THAT position, coupled with constant perineal massage by that wonderful student midwife, and my sons balls, butt, torso,( I could feel him moving through me--like a burning and enourmous bulging ), and lastly, head ( An increadible push, just once) came into this world. I felt a gush of relief, and was so out of my body at that point, I took a minute to start interacting again. I could hear James Louis's sweet mutterings from between my legs, and we all helped him onto my stomach. He was so beautiful and soft, like butter, or water, and was repeating "hello" "hello" as we said it to him. It was truly amazing. He was warm and clean, and after a few minutes I cut the cord that had connected us for so long. He was a nice size, 8 pounds and six ounces, and only an inch or less shy of two feet long. The placenta came out a bit later, and we saved it for burial under a Japanese Magnolia we had bought just for the occasion. I felt fantastic, like I had done the ultimate. I showered off and curled up with James--he was fooling around with my nipple alot, but not too hungry yet. I didn't have any tears or cuts, although it hurt to pee for a few days. I couldn't stop looking at James. He was so relaxed and kind. I found his smell intoxicating, and couldn't sniff him enough over the next few days. We never did bathe him that day. He didn't need it. The midwives cleaned up and left a few hours after the birth. My friend and my husband helped me with anything I needed, and the toddler ( who had elected to leave the room during the actual birth to nap) woke up and came to see James ( "I see his eyes!!")

I don't believe that James' breech birth was an "exception" to the "breech births are dangerous" ideology. I don't think most breech or head first births are dangerous, unless the birthing women is nervous, frightened, scared, or seriously distracted. If she is, then, yes, alot of things can and do go wrong. I was so relaxed and confident in my home during labor, I knew without a doubt that nothing could go wrong, and if it had , I would have known it, and gotten outside help.

I really believe that an uninterupted home birth is the safest one most women can have.

Jessica