A Birth Story

So, you know how in the movies the pregnant mother's water breaks and everyone drops everything they're doing and rushes to the hospital, leaving the doors wide open and cruising through red lights en route to the hospital? Apparently, those may be an unnecessary steps in the birthing process.

On Thursday, June 7, 2012, my sister's water broke in the evening hours. When I heard this, I figured that her husband, Michael, was following the example set by Hollywood. I was surprised to hear that she was still at home. Being coached and counseled by her doula, Kelsey was able to wait at home for hours and hours, bathing in the whirlpool tub and experimenting with several body positions that assist in the birthing process. She was doing all she could to try to stay calm (which isn't exactly part of her nature). My sister was determined to give birth naturally. Other than her doula, she had no real intervention, she took no drugs to ease discomfort. 

It was not until Friday evening that the doula suggested it was time to head to the hospital. Once there, there were still hours ahead before a baby came. I was still in Chicago finishing up with the last few days of teaching my class before summer break, but several of my family members followed Kelsey and her husband Michael to the hospital in New Jersey, sending me text messages to update me on anything new.

Waiting and waiting, we all wondered what was going on in that hospital room. It's not supposed to take this long! In the movies, that water breaks and the birth happens in the cab on the way to the hospital. What's happening here?

Kelsey pushed for 5 and a half hours, well past the point that the doctors wanted to wait for this natural birth to happen. They wanted to perform a Caesarian Section because it had been over 24 hours since her water broke. Because her doula was there and was competent in her assistance, the doctors agreed to allow Kelsey to continue to push. And push. And push. 

When the baby started trying to arrive, the head was not exactly flying out of there, in fact, there was serious concern that his head didn't have enough room to be delivered. The doctors eventually had to use some kind of suction cup tool and suction the head out (don't worry, the cone head didn't last). 

The scary part, which I just recently learned, is that the doctors informed Kelsey and Michael that without the suctioning, it would have been possible that we could have lost the baby, and maybe even my sister. With the help of the doula and the doctors at the hospital, a new beautiful baby cone-head free boy, Isaac, was welcomed into the world on the morning of June 9, 2012. 

I was thrilled to hear the news. Everyone was healthy, and we had a new baby boy in the family! I don't have any of my own children, and Kelsey is my only sibling. This was her first child, so this was really the first time that I had a vested interest in a birth, which is why I chose this story to share. Plus, my nephew Isaac is pretty much my favorite thing in the world, so sharing it came pretty naturally.

Comparing this story to a birth story that took place in Ghana, the birth process seems very intricate, regardless of where it happens. When a healthy baby is brought into the world, it is a beautiful occurrence (maybe not esthetically pleasing during the actual birth, but certainly once the baby arrives).   Berger (2012) shares the example of a home birth in Ghana. Home birth is much more common in other areas of the world than it is in the United States. In this story, the midwife sits without saying a word, watching the silent expecting mother curled on the floor on her side in the corner of her hut. The mother-to-be suddenly sits up into a baseball catcher's position with a gentle grumble and the midwife supports her back. Suddenly, a baby's head slowly emerges. The mother doesn't make a sound, the midwife doesn't make a sound. Suddenly, a breathing baby is born. He's not crying. He is breathing. The midwife gently places the baby in the mother's arms. He's not crying because it had been a gentle birth.    

What if it hadn't been? What if there were complications? In my sister's case, I think she would have actually preferred a home birth. Less exposure to unneeded interventions, more comfort.  I'm happy that it didn't happen that way, however, because as it turned out, she needed medical attention from the doctors. An emergency ambulance ride to the hospital could have been disastrous. I suppose it's possible that the midwife in Ghana could have figured out a way to deliver the baby had it not been the gentle birth that it was. Although if not, what happens then? In the United States, we are fortunate to have access to quality health care when needed. I feel that rather than high quality health care being the privilege that it is, it should be the rule throughout the world.