This year on my birthday my mother re-told my birth story. I thought I’d share a little bit of it for you.
|Above: My mom and I, Below: My Grandma and my 2 brothers|
The evening before I was due, my mother, father, two brothers, aunt and grandmother went to a childbirth class at the hospital that my mom was going to give birth at. This class was for siblings and their companions that would be taking care of them while the birth was happening. This was a requirement for those that wanted to bring siblings to a birth. After the class our family drove the hour back home and got my two brothers in bed for the evening. As soon as my mom finally got herself in for bed that night, she realized she was contracting regularly. My mom was super excited and so she got everybody back up, packed them in the car and drove the hour back to the hospital. My dad, brothers, and aunt went to sleep in a waiting room of sorts while my mom walked the halls with her mother-in-law. She had a great time, the contractions weren’t too heavy and she labored like this until 6 am. At 6 am the doctor, who had spent the night in the hospital, woke up and told my mom that she would like to break her bag of water. My mom questioned this request, and her doctor told her that was the only way the baby would come out. So, at 6 something in the morning my mom’s water was broken and then her labor went into super intense mode. My mom went within, worked through every contraction with the help of her nurse who so lovingly doula-ed her. Meanwhile, my dad, two brothers, aunt and grandmother chitchatted in the room.
Around 8 something in the morning I was born. And I was a girl! I weighed 8 pounds even, my mom’s smallest baby. She didn’t tear. My brothers were over the moon and soon started discussing what my name should be. Brett wanted to name me Angel. Jared, with the assistance of the doctor, cut my cord.
This is a simple story and I love it. It shows the simplicity of birth with minimal interventions. My mom was a very lucky woman – she had an MD (midwife in disguise) who was very hands off and let her do her thing. My mom describes the labor and delivery ward as a re-modeled motel. Each room had its own suite – a separate living area other than the birth room and it even had its own kitchenette. Most women in the 70s and the 80s had a very different hospital experience. I was a lucky baby.