I
gave birth to my first baby on the bedroom floor in my apartment in downtown
Regina. It was just me and my husband, and then it was us plus our little girl,
screaming with surprise at what had just happened to her. I think our upstairs
neighbour was also home, but he has been known to put on his headphones and
sing along to his favorite CDs, so I don't think he heard me making my primal
sounds.
It
was late at night. There was a candle burning in the room, and I was squatting
over her where she had landed on the blanket soaked with amniotic fluid and my
blood. I was struck with her beauty, her perfection, all her tiny parts, her
facial features, her black hair. I rushed to answer her cries for the first
time of many times that were to come, telling her it was okay, picking her up,
trying to soothe her. I knew she was experiencing everything for the very first
time, and it was amazing to me.
My
labour had moved quickly. I sat on my heels and rose up with my back straight,
digging my fists into my thighs during a contraction. My husband sat in front
of me on the bed and was a perfect combination of receptive and encouraging,
bless him. I experienced the awesome power of a contraction descending on me
and taking charge of my body, roaring in my ears, then backing off, leaving me
collapsed and panting on my husband's lap.
I
had to learn to get energy from those needed rests, rather than waste them
anticipating the intensity of the next contraction. My deliberative, rational
self was completely overwhelmed and had to take emergency measures and simply
live in the present moment, or else lose it. My whole being was opening to let
life come through, and it was going to open whether I let it or not. I have
never felt so awed, so big and so small at the same time. All I remember is
this wordless Knowledge of where we come from, the real meaning of life right
before me, me BEING the meaning.
It
was a calling from about my 7th month of pregnancy to give birth alone,
encouraged by some incredible and very normal birth stories I read on the
internet. I came to understand childbirth as very private and sacred, the most
important thing I would ever do in my life, and I had only to educate myself as
best I could and relax. I feel it is very important to share with other women
what birthing unassisted gave to me.
1.
Power. Control. First of all, I couldn't lie to myself about who does the job
of birthing a baby. Midwives and doctors don't deliver babies, and women get
into a lot of trouble if they believe this. The fact that I gave birth on my
own, which I would have done no matter who was there with me, is the most
empowering thing I have ever experienced, and I have no memory of anyone else
taking control or getting attention during labour.
2.
Add to this that I was the only person to touch my baby. Any mother will
understand what this can mean. Nobody *gave* her to me, as in "Here is your
baby, ma'am." We nursed, we stared at each other and wondered. The most
important thing that needed to happen for my baby's first moments of life was
uninterrupted time, and I don't mean watching for the cord to stop pulsating.
She needed ownership: YOU are MY baby. This ownership has continued to the
present day. I feel like a possessive, wild animal, and I love it.
I
felt a mystic gate swing open for the first few days of my daughter's life: I
felt open, or opened, rather, and sensitive to everything that was happening
around me. I cried so much, I thought so much, I really couldn't believe the
transformation from being Virgin to being Mother, to use the terms of Goddess
religion. I'm so glad that I didn't miss anything because my baby needed to be
weighed or examined. Those few moments of life were like precious gems dropped
into the memory of my soul... they can never be replaced.
3.
My husband had a role to play in the birth, his rightful role of supporting me.
He was the one who made me repeat out loud, "I am powerful" and "I am strong"
during those times when I didn't believe it. He gave me the emotional support
that I needed, and there was a dialogue and a play that had a chance to occur
just between the two of us.
4.
During my last few weeks of pregnancy, I was able to relax completely, and
enjoy being ripe with baby. I didn't worry about when she would be born. I
didn't know how much weight I gained, what my blood pressure was. Sitting in a
doctor's office had turned me into a ball of stress, so I eventually figured it
out: this is the stress that causes problems, and I should learn to pay
attention to my body and she will tell me if something isn't right. I ate so
well when I was at peace like that. I smiled to myself.
Having
said all that, I am really disappointed in the "official health practitioner"
people I tried to contact after my baby was born, when I needed help with
nursing and with looking after myself. Perhaps because they feared legal
consequences should my baby suddenly die (or something), they would have
nothing to do with me, and that made me feel so hurt and angry and panicky. I
have spent years feeling shafted by "the system," so maybe I just needed more
proof that trying to operate inside it doesn't really work.
You
have to understand that I never held a baby before. I knew very little about
how to nurse, how to sleep with my baby. I had no friends who did these things,
and books were helpful only to a point. So I am really grateful for the help I
received from a mother I had met when I was pregnant. I think she is what we
would call a lay midwife. I phoned her and she gave me what I needed, she came
to see me, offering her experience, help with breastfeeding, a hug, a chance
for me to describe to someone what I was feeling. And no judgment about whether
I was being irresponsible or not by not having any attendants there.
As
women gain control of their birthing experiences, I believe many will choose to
give birth with only loved ones around them, no experts present. I do sincerely
hope that midwifery continues in a pure form, where we are able to call upon
other women with experience when we need them, without their requiring
certification, without a nod of approval from obstetricians. These things will
happen anyway, no matter what sort of legislation exists. I feel like living
proof of that.