It's Not About Me

When clients discover I have two children of my own, the topic immediately turns to my own labor and delivery experiences. I would love to be able to answer that the births of my children were beautiful experiences that were the best times of my life. But that would be a lie. So what do I say instead?  How can I share about my experience appropriately without absolutely terrifying my clients in the process? Simple answer- I really can't.

So instead, I usually reply with something along the lines of "Your birth is not about me or my experiences, every woman and every labor is different". Which is the truth. Occasionally, I am able to use my personal experiences as a teaching moment when we are designing the client's birth preferences, which is usually when the question about my own experience is posed. My own experiences are a great reminder that things rarely go exactly according to plan. I don't like to give details to my clients, but I usually am able to say "I had two births, neither went according to my plans, one varied slightly and one was totally different. However, my kids and I are all ok, and having a deviation from the plan isn't the end of the world. Birth is fluid and we must adapt."

I'll share my experiences here, but as a disclaimer, do NOT let this discourage you from preparing for your desired birth. I'm still holding out hope that when it's time for the next baby, I'll get the beautiful birth I've been dreaming of for years.


 I had my birth preferences (birth plan) ready to go each time. I had in my mind a beautiful picture of
how the labor and delivery would go. With my son, I wanted a quick, natural hospital delivery. What I got was weeks of prodromal labor, and horrible SPD. When active labor finally arrived, I was exhausted but hoped it would be over soon. 84 hours later, he arrived. During my time in the hospital, I was bullied, given pitocin to "speed things up" when I stalled at 5 cm for over 20 hours, threatened with a c-section, and given an episiotomy against my will. They whisked him away to the nursery and gave him formula without my consent, and that was the beginning of the destruction of our breastfeeding relationship. The whole experience felt rushed and like I was out of control.

With my daughter, I didn't want a repeat of my last experience, so I chose to have a home birth. I planned and prepared, and had the picture perfect pregnancy. My due date came and went, no worries from me. Then, I woke up in the middle of the night to my water breaking. I was so excited, it was finally time! I grabbed my phone to call my midwife, and I flipped on the bedroom light. All my joy turned to terror as I realized I was standing in a puddle of blood, with more rushing down my legs. I knew what bloody show looked like, and I knew what a placental abruption looked like. This was the latter. I sent a photo of the blood to my midwife and she immediately responded with what I already knew in my heart: go to the hospital ASAP, don't wait. So we grabbed a few things and flew out the door. Labor started in the car, hard and fast, and with every contraction more blood came running out. We got to the hospital about an hour after my water broke, and they took me upstairs. They took one look at me, and tried to get my daughter's heart on the monitor. It was there, but it was all over the place. My contractions were coming every 2 minutes, and I was already 8 1/2 cm, but I had lost too much blood and they couldn't wait. They rushed me back for a c-section and a blood transfusion. It all happened so fast, I felt completely out of control and for a minute there I actually thought I was going to die. It was without a doubt the worst experience of my life. Thankfully, both my daughter and I survived with minimal physical scarring, though emotionally it certainly took its toll on me.

So why am I sharing this here? What purpose does it serve? The point is, it's not about me. Yes, I have had birth experiences that were far from ideal. But that doesn't mean that happens to everyone. Especially what happened with my daughter, I'm in the minority. So when you ask about my birth experiences and I simply say "neither really went according to my plans, but we are all ok, but this isn't about me", now you know why. I don't want to scare you, or dissuade you from following your dreams for your birth. I don't want you to take my experience as the end all, be all. I don't want you to compare our experiences. I don't ever want you to doubt your ability, to doubt your body.

Your birth is about you and your baby. It's not about me.

The Benefits of Consuming Your Placenta

Once you’ve finally given birth, you’d hope that the rollercoaster of hormones and emotions is over. Unfortunately, postnatal hormones can be even more intense than those encountered during pregnancy. Around 80% of women develop some kind of postpartum mood disorder, from the more common mild “baby blues” to the rare case of postpartum psychosis. One of the best ways to help combat the hormonal surges is to ingest the placenta.

Yes, I said it. Ingest your placenta.

Now, you may be thinking, “ew, that’s gross!”, or even “what on earth is a placenta!?”. Well, luckily, I can answer that question, and hopefully change your mind on the ‘gross’ part.

The placenta is the organ that attaches to the wall of the uterus and is connected to your baby via the umbilical cord. All nutrients for your baby pass through the placenta, as well as oxygen and hormones. The placenta is often called the ‘tree of life’, both for its life-sustaining properties and the tree-like vein patterns that course through it.

Your placenta contains a variety of ingredients: your own natural hormones, vitamins, minerals, protein, iron, etc. By re-introducing small amounts of your placenta back into your body over a gradual period, you help to combat the sudden hormonal shift that happens after childbirth.

Some benefits of ingesting your placenta are
  It is perfectly made for YOU
  It helps to balance your system
  It replenishes depleted iron
  It gives you more energy
  It can lessen postnatal bleeding, both immediately after birth and for the month that follows
  It has been shown to increase breastmilk production
  It helps the uterus return to its pre-pregnancy state more quickly
  It can be helpful during menopause
  It can help you reduce depression and negative feelings in the postnatal time
  It can decrease the likelihood of postnatal insomnia

Your placenta is tailor made for you, and women around the globe have been ingesting placenta for generations. It can be taken in capsule form, raw, cooked, grilled, blended… you name it. Capsules are the most popular modern option for placenta ingestion, and are taken much like a vitamin. In some cultures, women take bites of the raw placenta immediately following birth in order to prevent postpartum hemorrhage and to help the uterus contract back down, and then the rest of the placenta is saved to be consumed later.

Of course, before attempting to do ANYTHING with your placenta, it is important to verify that you and your placenta are in good health. Asking your caregiver immediately following the birth if your placenta is healthy is the first step. If you are delivering in a hospital setting, there may be paperwork to fill out before your placenta is released into your care or the care of your Placenta Specialist.

For more information on the benefits of ingesting your placenta, visit PlacentaBenefits.info.

Labor is a Thunder Storm

Watching a woman in labor is like watching a thunderstorm. To an outside observer, labor can seem wild, fierce, frightening even. But to one who holds the act of childbirth in reverence, it is beautiful, rhythmic, and glorious. The rain will pour and the thunder will roll, but the raw, untamed beauty takes my breath away.

Contrary to what television and movies show us, labor doesn’t usually start with a bang and take mere minutes. First, the clouds begin rolling in on the horizon. The mother-to-be notices some mild discomfort, perhaps some pressure. She has a subconscious feeling that labor is soon, but maybe she doesn’t vocalize that thought. Instinctually, she prepares. She begins to ‘nest’: cleaning, organizing, and stocking up on necessities. Then, the calm. That eerie, quiet calm, just before the rainfall. The clouds are so close you can practically taste them, and the air hangs heavy. The waiting takes both forever and no time at all.

Then comes the first wave of rain. It starts out light, and everyone wonders if this is the real thing, or perhaps just a sun shower. Gradually, the rainfall increases its intensity, and the birth team circles the wagons and hunkers down to rejoice in the storm. It is time.

Low thunder rolls through the falling rain, the mother gently sways, held up by the arms of her doula. The rocking is like a rhythm, the thunder is still coming closer. The rain is heavy now, cooling the earth and encouraging new life. The thunder rolls, and mother moans. It is time. It is time.

The rain is pouring now, coming down in driving sheets. A crack of lightning splits the sky, white hot and so close. The thunder follows right behind, shaking every living thing down to their core. This is it. The heart of the storm. The flashes come one on top of another, each one as intense as the last. Mother cries out, grasping tightly to her support team. Her hair has come loose, it tumbles about her face in a wild cascade. Sweat and tears fall like the rain, she gasps for air and soldiers on. The thunder is here.

The storm suddenly changes. The rain eases up a bit, but the thunder continues to roll in a continuous parade. Mother grunts as she bears down with all her might. The rain is clearing, but the thunder still rolls. Rumble after rumble, wave after wave, sweet relief for mother as she bears down with all her strength. Then suddenly, new life. Pink and grey and red, screaming and sputtering. Out out out, into the light and the embrace of mother. The rain is but a drizzle now, and the birds can be heard quietly chirping in the trees. Mother and babe cry in unison, babe for the newness of it all, and mother for the love that is like no other. Thunder can still be heard, but mother pays it no mind. To her, the storm is over. Those distant rumbles of thunder bring forth the afterbirth, and the birth team gently cleans and restores any damage the storm has left behind. The rain is now a fine mist, leaving the world damp and rich, and bursting with new life.

There is nothing like this experience in the whole of the world. The raw beauty of a birth can’t be fully captured in words or images. I can only paint a picture of how it feels to be invited into that sacred space, to be welcomed into the circle as a woman faces her own unique storm. Incredible doesn’t even begin to cover it.

 If I am to learn one thing in my life, it is this: 

 Never fear the storm, for there is beauty and wisdom in its ferocity.

Your Body, Your Baby, Your Birth { informed consent and creating birth preferences }

The birth of a child is a sacred, intimate experience. There is no disputing that fact. For every pregnant person, thoughts of labor and delivery are guaranteed. There is likely to be some uncertainty, fear, doubt, and curiosity in the minds of first-time mothers, and maybe even in repeat births. There is anticipation, there is excitement. Labor is the only blind date where you are sure you will be meeting the love of your life. Labor is incredible.

Labor is also unpredictable.

As much as one can study and prepare for the labor and delivery of their sweet baby, nothing is guaranteed. Rarely does a birth go absolutely perfectly, meeting every single expectation. It could be an incredibly fast labor, or a long, drawn out even that takes days. The OB you've seen your whole pregnancy could be out of town, you may go into labor while on vacation yourself, maybe there's a storm and you can't make it to the hospital. Labor can be tricky, but it's a good idea to set up some birth preferences in advance.

I use the term preferences, rather than 'plan', because as I just stated, labor is unpredictable. Having a set of preferences for how you envision your perfect birth is important, but those preferences need to be flexible as well. I encourage my clients to dream big, and put down what their heart truly desires for the best birth experience they can imagine. I also tell them to have a separate set of preferences labelled "emergency". Those cover the preferences if a true emergency arises and a cesarean is necessary, or an induction of labor is medically warranted. Planning and dreaming of your birth experience is a great thing, but always have back up plans just in case. Be prepared.

When forming your birth plan, it's important to research various aspects of labor and delivery. Depending on where you plan on delivering, parts of your birth plan will vary. It is important that you have a solid idea on important factors of labor, like being free to move about if you choose, pain management options, the type of monitoring you want, etc. Read up on your options, become informed on all procedures you wish to have done. Any consent you give during your labor and afterward should be done so only after you are sure you have all the information needed to make the best decision for yourself and your baby. There are several websites that can help structure a birth preference list to your liking. I provide a basic template for my clients, to show them how one should look. Here are some sources for creating a 'birth plan': 1   2   3   4

Effective birth preferences are typically no longer than one page, front and back. Color coding, bolding the most important options, and laminating your paper are all ways to effectively draw attention to your wishes. Be sure to check the policies at the hospital or birth center if you are delivering in one, to make sure your preferences are within reason. Also check your list with your care provider several weeks before delivery, and again during the last week or two of pregnancy. Having full support from your whole labor team and knowing you are giving informed consent is crucial to achieving an amazing birth.

My Passion, My Calling.

I've known for years that I am supposed to work in the childbirth field. Pregnancy and birth has fascinated me from a young age, and I had extremely limited resources to satiate my knowledge. I was adopted as an infant, and my (adoptive) mother never experienced a pregnancy. All of my questions were met with short answers, often with "I don't know". The human body was considered a taboo subject in our extremely conservative household, and my access to information was incredibly restrained.

When I got married and became pregnant with our first born, I started researching. I must have read a thousand books, web pages, and medical journals. I joined every pregnancy and parenting forum available. I downloaded all the apps, I went to all the classes. I absorbed every bit of information that I could. For a first time mom, I knew quite a bit, and that knowledge only further lit my passion for pregnancy and birth.

During my years as a parent, I have studied more, and learned more. I have grown as a parent and as a person. And my desire to guide, assist, and educate others has only grown. But all journeys come with struggle, and 8 months ago, I reached a massive hurdle in my pursuit of birth work.

I had an emergency cesarean.

That surgery saved both my daughter and myself from death, but it was the most terrifying, traumatic experience I have ever had. I had planned a peaceful home water birth, with a photographer and family and friends. It was going to be a beautiful celebration to welcome our sweet miracle baby earth side. Instead, I woke up a few nights past my due date in a pool of blood, with more and more running out and down my legs. In an instant I was scrambling to head to the hospital, all my plans and dreams for the perfect birth shattered. What happened at the hospital saved our lives, but it destroyed my faith in my body. I felt my passion and drive leaving my body. Everything I had been working towards for all those years tasted like ashes in my mouth. How could I continue to pursue my dreams when my own experience was a failure? How could I move past this?

Thankfully, supportive family, good friends, time, and therapy all helped me to climb over the massive roadblock in my path. It hurt for a while, but soon enough I was back on the path to following my dreams. Now, there is no pain associated with the birth of my sweet little bird. There is no more anxiety, I no longer have the nightmares. I can freely say it was one of the worst days of my life, but I no longer feel like it's holding me back.

I am free.

I am alive, my children are alive, we are all healthy and full of love. My body is not broken, my experience makes me stronger. I am free and able to pursue my calling, my true passion.

The first birth after my c-section, I was nervous. Would I now hold resentment towards women who achieved their dream births? I didn't think so, but emotions and hormones can be funny things. That first birth, as the baby emerged from the warmth of his mother's womb into the brightness of day, I cried. I cried because the miracle of life is so overwhelmingly beautiful, and I have the incredible privilege of watching babies and mothers be born. I have the honor of being invited into the sacred space that is the birth room. I have the ultimate joy of watching new life begin, to see those first breaths, to be one of the first things a brand new pair of eyes sees. In that moment, as that brand new baby boy sang out that he had arrived, I knew that my calling, and my destiny, was and is birth. It's what I am meant to do.

So for the rest of my life, I will pursue my passion. I will be fearless in the face of adversity, I will never doubt my calling again. All types of birth are valid, and every woman deserves to have a beautiful birth experience of her choosing. I'm here to help make that happen, and I hope that someday, I will get another chance to birth without fear.