Homebirth Hell By Tracy Print
Birth Stories - C-Section Birth Stories
Monday, 16 February 2009 08:26
I woke up at 2 am with contractions and a bloody show. This was so exciting! I had waited so long to be a mother, and after years of infertility treatment, the big day had finally arrived. I had planned, fussed, and planned some more in anticipation of this wonderful day. I had attended classes, read extensively, and had completed extensive preparation for labor, delivery, and newborn care. If ever there was a wanted baby, this baby was it!

I called the midwife at 7 am, and she arrived at noon. By noon, contractions were intense. The pain was becoming unmanageable. My descent into despair began. The midwife did not help me with the intense pain. She opened up the refrigerator and helped herself to dinner. At 5 pm, I am starting to feel very weary. The midwife informs me that I am not trying hard enough and that my contractions are not strong enough. Get tough, she says. I try even harder, and I experience more intense pain. I try walking. I try a hot bath. I try concentration. I try self- hypnosis. I try distraction. I try soothing music. Nothing helps, and I experience the pain and the knowledge that I am truly, totally alone. At 9pm, I am desperate. The midwife tells me that I have psychological problems, and this is why I cannot give birth. Then, I am told that women who have experienced infertility are too defective to give birth. The wonderful homebirth of my fantasy is now a wretched journey taken with a sadistic midwife. The midwife examines me, and tells that the cervix has a lip. She inserts her hand into me and starts pushing. The pain is more than I can bear, and I beg her to stop! At midnight, I beg to go to the hospital. The midwife says, "Well, if you have to, then go!" She refuses to drive me, so I call a friend who drives me. I am deposited on the curb of the hospital, naked, with a diaper between my legs while my husband tries to find a parking spot. My friend helps me up to the OB floor. The nurses are kind! They give me a wet washcloth to suck on. They stroke my head and tell me that I will be OK. The doctor arrives at 4 am, and we discuss options. I say that I want a C-section because I have been pushing for 7 hours and I can't bear the pain anymore.

The C-section clearly indicates that the baby was transverse. Suddenly, chaos breaks out in the OR. The baby is delivered and whisked away. The meconium was so think that it was packed in her ears. She was intubated within 10 minutes of birth and spent 3 weeks in a drug-induced coma.

My dear, precious little girl. Your mama failed to protect you. In spite of all the checking and references, I trusted a midwife to deliver you at home. I wanted to bring you into the world with love and with gentleness. Instead, you are born with force and with despair. I injured your precious body.

I have tried to learn lessons from this experience. Life is precious and don't do anything to jeopardize it. I supposedly had the best midwife in the area, and the most experienced, but I cannot imagine anyone more cruel than she. I know that the homebirth advocates are fierce about their arguments, and at one time I agreed with them. Now, I live in testimony to the lies that they tell. Homebirth does NOT mean a supportive atmosphere, reduced pain for the mother, or a healthy outcome. I worked hard to prepare for a supportive and loving birth experience, and it was for naught. Statistics only apply to the general population. Your personal experience has nothing to do with statistics. The midwife has spoken to me once. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "Oh well." If this is what "with woman" means, then I choose the hospital. If I am ever fortunate enough to have another baby, and I hope that I am, I will go the hospital where I was treated with kindness and respect.