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BIRTH STORIES PAGE 3
PG 1,   PG 2

This page.....
3 Wonderful Homebirths
Janai's Quick Homebirth
Ripped From My Body - My 2 Cesarean Birth's

3 Wonderful Homebirths
by Amy Guyer

Here are our birth stories:  Two of them were pretty big.  Our girl was a little big.
Our first born ~ James Williamson.
    After suffering a miscarriage with my first pregnancy in Dorchester, Massachusetts, I was on my way to the Farmer's Market via subway when I noticed what looked like a newborn across the isle.  Both mother and babe appeared completely peaceful, and a little boy was playing with the baby's tiny, blue hat, taking it off, putting back on, again and again.  This didn't seem to bother the baby in the least bit, nor did the noise of the train with its screeching wheels or jerking at sudden stops.
    "How old is your baby?" I couldn't resist asking.
    "Three days," the mom shyly returned helping the youngster get the hat on without covering the baby's eyes.
    "How can he be so calm?  And aren't you afraid of germs with him being so new?"  I thought all newborns cried a lot.
    "We had him at home and the breast milk gives him all the immunities he needs," she simply replied.
    "Oh, you mean no drugs, shots or separation," I interpreted.
    "Exactly."
    When I got home to our third floor triple decker apartment, I was so excited.  "I can't wait to tell Mark!"
    Sadly, his reaction was not what I'd expected.
    "I'd pass out with all the blood," was his squeamish reply.
    Not wanting to press the issue, I let the subject slide.
    One lunch hour a few days later I found "The Immaculate Deception" on sale at Barnes & Noble and picked it up, not knowing what a bomb shell it was.  This was confirmation!  God surely would change Mark's mind after reading this.  Unfortunately, I miscarried that baby, but meanwhile the Lord had the time he needed to help Mark change his mind on homebirth.
   We were half way through the second trimester with my second pregnancy when we attended the ACHI course.  ACHI is "Association for Childbirth at Home International".  We learned why, in this day and age, despite all the modern technology, homebirth is safer.  We learned about all the possible emergencies and how to deal with each one.  We were told when it might be necessary to forego homebirth and head for the hospital.  We confronted skeptics and doubters.  One "well-meaning" woman who led a seminary wives Bible study came to our home uninvited and told us how we were sinning against God in planning to have our first baby at home.  She would have prevented it altogether if she could, but she didn't realize God ordained our homebirth.  It was His plan for us, so He made it possible and safe.
    I kept physically active for most of the pregnancy, swimming about a mile a day and walking the same.  Mark and I took Bradley preparation for childbirth in the last trimester and felt confident and excited when labor began.  We told neither of our mothers of the planned homebirth.
    By the way, I lost my mucous plug two weeks before real labor began.  My midwife said I could go on the way I was but without underpants.  This was fine except one warm November day when a wasp flew up my dress and bit my bottom.  Ouch! 
    I went through a day of what I thought was labor, but the contractions never got regular.  Mark stayed home anyway and took me out for ice cream and walks in the mall.  By evening, there were no more contractions and no baby.
    That night I slept pretty well but felt some more contractions off and on.  By seven-thirty a.m. asked Mark if he could stay home from work at EPA as he'd stayed home from class at Duke the day before.  After he called in to arrange it, things started picking up quickly, so we got Elisabeth on the phone.  Svea, the other lay midwife, brought her over at about 9:30, and she stayed until about that time at night.  Denny, my friend who was also due in 2 weeks, arrived a bit later.  They were comforting friends who, along with Mark, encouraged me throughout to keep as vertical as possible.
    At the onset of labor Mark had insisted I take some calcium to dull the pain, so I had some with a tall glass of milk.  Later, during transition, it all came back out.  Progress had slowed a bit about an hour or more before transition, so they got me up and walked me, (not just to the bathroom), and gave me some raspberry leaf or blue cohosh tea.  I can't remember, but whatever it was, it must have upset my stomach, as that was when the milk came back.  It was for the good though, because they say it (upchuckin') opens you up, and soon after that last trip to the bathroom I felt like pushing.
    I held back for a while (with Mark's help) at the request of my 
attendants; but soon the head crowned without receding.  The sac of waters came first, and Elisabeth finally punctured it.  They had me reach down and feel the baby's head and held up a mirror so I could see the little patch of black hair.  This encouraged me immediately.
    Soon, I was allowed to push athletically, and after the head was born the shoulders failed to rotate.  In first stage I'd been either reclining or walking, and up to this point in second stage, I'd been lying on my side. 
Elisabeth got me up on all fours, and the shoulders came out together.
    Later, after little Jamie nursed and settled down, while I was being 
stitched, that "well-meaning" seminary wife called, and Denny said, "She can't come to the phone right now; she's all tied up."  We all had a chuckle over that, to the point where Elisabeth had to tell me to "be still!" and Denny explained to her how safely the birth took place.  I never heard from her again. 
    Jamie was born December 4, 1980, a day before his due date.  He weighed 10.3 pounds and topped the charts for his apgars.  He was on TV when just a week old!  The local news program came to the farmhouse where he was born.

Julia Rose ~ Second born
    After nursing Jamie until his second birthday (a month before Julia's birth), we almost gave up hope of ever having our second baby at home.  Until the end this baby seemed to love being right side up, which for homebirth, is upside down, or breech.  But we learned that for anything of first rate quality we must fight, so fight we did.
    Jamie had decided to wean himself  "cold-turkey" on his second birthday. "Bad-milk", he splattered it everywhere.  His sweet bluish milk had turned into a thick, greenish substance called colostrum.  He would have nothing more to do with the stuff or the comfort zone.  One consequence of this baby-led weaning was no more practice contractions.  I wasn't in as good shape physically and there must have been plenty of room in there. The day Julia was due she had turned breech again.
    We'd gone "professional", for our midwife was a CNM, or certified nurse midwife who worked out of Siler City's Chatham Family Birth Center. We were told the baby would have to be born within two weeks of the expected due date or we'd have to go in to the center for the birth.
    So, when they examined me on December 23 and found the baby had flipped again, they tired external version and were successful.  We prayed and prayed she would stay put til the birth.  (Mark convinced me we were having a girl.)  I'd talk to her, calling her Julia, "Now, you just be a good little Julia baby and I'll nurse you and love you, and you'll be so happy."
    After waiting until the very last day, January 7, Mark said I could take castor oil.  So we played a sporadic game of Monopoly as I kept running to the bathroom that Friday night.  The trotting stopped around midnight as did the contractions, but they say castor oil only sparks labor if it's ready to ignite.  So I slept peacefully amid a few mild contractions and woke up disappointed on Saturday morning.  Mark took us for walking in the park and for ice cream, and we came home almost despondent.  We were in our last few hours.
    I went out to the clothesline to see Milly, our lab, and clean up her deposits under the clothesline while she played.  While shoveling, I felt the first few contractions start up again and prayed this would be it.  It was about six PM.
    Upon coming in and getting a batch of banana bread started, the 
contractions intensified and seemed to come much quicker.  I went to lie down while the bread baked and had Mark call Linda, the CNM.  She wanted to talk to me, and she must have thought I wasn't very far along by the way I sounded, for she didn't get there until the head was crowning.
    Jamie's babysitter got there in plenty of time, and she would let him wander in and out of the bedroom at his own leisure.  It was getting on toward his bedtime, nine PM, when the doorbell rang.  In breezed Linda with her assistant carrying her briefcase and oxygen tank.  They were brisk and business-like the way they got all washed and set up.
    By the time she got around to examining me, she could only yell to Mark, who was on the phone in the other room arranging the hymns for Sunday with the organist, "Mark!  The head is crowning!"  Of course the organist, busybody that she was, wasted no time spreading the news that a baby was being born in the parsonage, as it was easy for anyone to hear that shout for miles around!
    Most of the four-hour labor felt like strong menstrual cramps, so I was by myself for a lot of the time.  Mark had to deal with setting up the Sunday service and the babysitter and all.
    By the time the exam was over, I felt like pushing.  Linda told me not to and by this time Mark was there,  breathing in my face, but too bad, I just couldn't help it.  One push and out popped Baby Julia.  There's the reason this baby was nicknamed, "Flyer-Guyer".  I took three stitches after Julia Rose was born; and wasn't Papa proud to have his little Geegumplex; an 8 pound 10 ounce girl!
    All hands were on deck rubbing the creamy vernix into the back of this supposedly two week, overdue, wrinkle-free baby as she lay nursing on my chest.  (Even Jamie helped)  Jamie was somewhat devastated by her appearance later, but he would walk around for days, bent over, pointing between his knees saying, "See baby?  See baby?"
    I was very tired after Julia's birth, partly because of the worry about her being breech, partly due to the castor oil, but mostly because I just wasn't in good, physically athletic shape.
She nursed more often, about every one and half to two hours, where Jamie nursed every three hours around the clock.  We never had a crib.  They always slept in the family bed and started moving out at about eighteen months to two.

Daniel Ward ~ Third born
    "It's either a big baby, wrong dates or twins", the family practice 
doctor told us.  "I'd like you to have a sonogram as soon as possible."
    Mark, having a scientific bent, talked our back-up doctor into waiting. In fact, we never did have a sonogram, which didn't bother Nancy, our lay midwife.
    At five months it looked as though I was ready to deliver twins.  The mathematical due date was July 17, but Doc Baker recommended postponing our late June Bible School to the first of August, because he thought my measurements indicated a late June delivery.
    By the end of June we were fairly sure we had one big baby, and when July 17 came and went, we went to walking.  I already measured a full 42 centimeters.  I couldn't lie down, couldn't sit, and couldn't walk without a lot of sciatic nerve pinching.  It was the hottest summer on record, so walking outdoors was wretched for this Michigander!  We didn't live near a mall, and I wasn't in shape.
    At a supposed two weeks past the mathematical due date, on July 31, we had a delightfully cool evening.  Mark made me walk (with the promise of ice cream), so with much sciatic agony we trekked to the post office and back. Though nothing happened, except pain in the legs, I should have known the ice cream would start something.
    Early Friday morning I had two signs of imminent labour: diarrhea and bloody show.  I could attribute this to that old combination of Mark, walking and ice cream, but I think God wanted us to know He is the one in charge. Our times are in his hands, not physicians or mathematics.
    We let James (he changed from Jamie when he first made me cut off his beautiful curls at age four) and Julia Rose decide for themselves whether to attend the birth.  Since it was hot again, they opted to go to their Sunday school teacher's pool.  They'd been climbing all over me during some fairly uncomfortable contractions.
    "Hey, you two can go over to Miss Jane's any old time now", I gently but firmly urged after they followed me into my pre-birth soak in the tub.  So, out they got and off they went to cool off in a bigger tub.
    Mark turned on the relaxing tape, but I didn't hear a thing, the labor was so intense.  After four hours of painful back labor (posterior positioned big baby), the shoulders again refused to rotate. 
    Though, as with James, the head never tore me, the midwife got almost frantic about the situation.  You'd never know it by the pictures afterwards, however, for she looked as pleased as punch to be holding her first twelve plus pound baby.  (We later got her a fifteen pound scale.)
    For most of the labor I was in Mark's kneeling chair, except when Nancy wanted to check me.  The baby never had to drop, as he had filled up every available inch long before.  I got into a full squat, and finally, after standing up and leaning against Mark a while; Baby Daniel was born as I knelt by the family bed.  I 'breathed' the baby out with some rather loud breathing.  Immediately upon delivery, we were escorted to the lovely aromatic herb bath prepared for us, and he nursed to his heart's content, and I just about fell asleep.
    I remember the noon carillon playing right outside our window.  Later I asked Mark what song it was, and he teased me by saying, "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child", but I am sure it was, "Go Down Moses".  I have to laugh right along with him, because he has always actively supported me through each birth.  Now he is doing his best to raise our three gifts from God for His glory and in His fear and admonition.  We thank our Heavenly Father for His heritage through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Amy Guyer

---

 

Janai's Quick Birth

Janai Abrianna is our 11th. baby.  She is our 8th daughter.  My 2 elder children, Juli-20 and Vance-18 were both home from work and college to be there when Janai entered our family.  I believe that is what made her birth all the more special to me.  Having all of our homeschooled children present is what made it all perfect. I was waken up about 3 30 a.m. thinking I was having a contraction.  I didn't know if I was dreaming or if it was real.  I decided to make myself stay awake to see if I would have another one.  Sure enough, 5 minutes later I had another contraction.  I went downstairs to do some laundry and came and woke up my husband about 3:45.  We contacted our midwife and she arrived at four.  I was upstairs soaking in the bathtub when she arrived.  Upon entering the bathroom and
listening to me have about 2 contractions decided I was ready.  Wow.  I had no way to predict my baby would come in so short a time.  Born simply 20 minutes after the arrival of my midwife.  My husband scrambled to wake up the older 5 children and barely made it back to the bathroom to support me on the side of the bathtub in order to help me deliver our "fast" baby.  Juli, my 20 yr old and Kim our 15 yo were the only ones to actually make the delivery.  Shortly after she was born with cord still
in tact our other children one by one wandered in to see their brand new 10lb 6oz baby sister.  What a joy it was. It wasn't long until baby and I were settled back into bed together when our 5 year old twins, 7 and 8 year old boys, and 2 year old daughter meandered into my room to see the new arrival.  (It was the babies new cries that woke them)  Nothing in the whole world can take the place of that most wonderful early morning
delivery.  We took pictures of each of the children with their new little sister within an hour of her birth.  Life doesn't get any more joyous!!  Praise the Lord for pure joy.
Tricia
 

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Ripped From My Body; My 2 Cesarean Births
by Diana Bachmura

#1-Gordon's birth:
My name is Diana Bachmura. I have a wonderful husband and 2 beautiful children, Gordon age 3 and Sara age 1. Gordon was ripped from my body in a traumatic cesarean section in a military hospital on February 22, 1998. I was 2 weeks past due (by the doctor's count), and as a military member was "ordered" to be induced. 

At 7:00pm on Thursday evening I went to Balboa Naval Hospital in
San Diego, CA and Cervidil gel was placed on my cervix. I then I went home, hoping labor would start. The following morning, (Friday), at 7:00am I went back to the hospital, having felt not one contraction, to be hooked up to an I.V. with Pitocin. 

I had complete confidence in my doctor. How could I have known what was about to happen? 

At around 9am, after 2 bags of I.V. fluid were pumped into me, the Pitocin was started. I was barely contracting by 5pm even though
the nurses kept upping the "pit". So the doctor on call decided to stop the pitocin for the night! I could either go into labor on my own or get some rest and prepare for the hard work ahead. 

So at 8am Saturday morning I was taken back to labor and delivery (I had spent the night in the postpartum ward) and pitocin was started again. My contractions had all but stopped during the night. By 11am I was feeling uncomfortable for the first time. Also keep in mind I hadn't eaten since 6am Friday. The nurse checked me and I was 4 cm dilated. It was decided that my water was to be broke, and that would speed things up. I don't recall being part of that decision. 

By noon the contractions started coming on strong and hard. My husband, Gordon, had gone to the airport to pick up his mom; the baby was supposed to be here by now! 

I asked for something to take the edge off, those pitocin contractions were no joke! I was given something to drink so I wouldn't get nauseous from the narcotic. I don't think they ever asked me what I
wanted! or told me what they were giving me. Things went downhill from there. I started to feel like I was floating, then I started throwing up, and throwing up, and throwing up. 

They continued to turn up the pit and even though I was so high I could hardly speak, it did NOT take the edge off. Those pit contractions were no joke! A ½ an hour later, approx. 12:30pm, I was
begging for an epidural, and thankfully it came quickly. From the moment I started to feel the effects of the epidural, my labor was a blur of sleeping, vomiting, periodic increases in the pitocin, vaginal
exams, and more vomiting. I was on a fast I.V. drip because my blood pressure kept dropping. I was starting to look very bloated by mid-afternoon; at least that's what my mother-in-law and husband tell me. I was pretty much a snoring blob. 

By early evening the pitocin was at the maximum level and not much was happening. As soon as the pit was turned up my contractions came on hard and fast, but would peter out in about 10 minutes. I was dilated to about 6 cm by now! 

The on call doc was getting concerned and got authorization to turn up the pit some more. By around 9 or 10pm everyone noticed the urine bag had not been emptied in a long time and the stuff that was
in there was fluorescent yellow. Around midnight I was at 7 cm, and talk about a cesarean section started. At 4:45am Sunday, February 22, 1998, I was filleted and a beautiful 9lb 11oz baby boy was yanked out of my stomach. I lay on the operating table, convulsing, arms tied to the table, vomiting, with a tube down my throat. 

Who cares how he was born? You have a healthy baby, that's all that really matters right? Ultimately, yes. However, I wondered what was wrong with my body that I couldn't give birth as God intended? 

In the weeks that followed, I was in and out of the emergency room for uterine infections and external wound infections. The tops of my feet were as big as grapefruits. I couldn't roll over and pick up my crying baby. My brand new son lost over 1 ½ lbs in his first week of life because the pain medication I was on were drugging him as he nursed. He would wake up screaming every ½ hour because he was starving. Of course the doctors said the meds were safe for nursing
and I didn't figure it out until it was almost too late. I pumped and threw it away while we fed him formula until I was well enough to get off the meds. 

Every year on my son's birthday my mother in law calls me to say, "We almost lost you that day, I'm glad you're here." My recovery was long and difficult. Would I ever elect to do this again? NO WAY! It took a long time and alot of research, but I would try a VBAC at home.

#2 Sara's birth:
This time was going to be different.  I had researched books, magazines, and statistics.  I even spoke with a few women who had done it.  I needed to find a doctor who would support me while I did it; a vaginal birth after cesarean. 

I went through 3 doctors before I found one who trusted in the birth process.  The closer I got to labor, the less I wanted to go to the
hospital.  Then it happened, at around 35 weeks, we decided to birth at home with an incredible midwife team and a doula whom I'd hired when I first got pregnant.  My doctor gave his blessing.  He knew and
trusted the midwives I had chosen and agreed to be my back-up doc.

On Saturday afternoon, the contractions I had been having for weeks changed.  I started feeling them in my back.  I called  my doula, Leslie, and asked her to come over and give me a massage.  I didn't know if this was it, but I needed some relief, (Leslie is a massage therapist; bonus for me!)  I began scrubbing the floors and bath tubs etc. in case this was it; I couldn't have everyone coming over to a dirty house! 

Leslie arrived around 7:45pm and set up her table.  By now I was hurting pretty bad in my back, I suppose scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees didn't help that much!  From around 8-9pm I began to feel some relief from my lower back pain as Leslie worked her
magic.  As I sat up to get off the table my water broke.  I guess this WAS it. 

Kaye and Lindy, my midwives, arrived well, I don't know when.  But by midnight or so, Leslie had to go help another lady in labor, so Amy, my friend, childbirth educator, and doula, came over to help me.  By the time she arrived, I was having some pretty rough back labor.  My baby had turned posterior on me.  I was vomiting every time I'd try to drink something, and I was moaning very, very loudly.  But I didn't care. 

Kaye and Lindy had me try a few positions to try and get the baby to turn, with no success.  Gordon, my husband, and Amy were taking turns putting immense pressure on my lower back.  The contractions were coming back to back and incredibly strong, but when they came down, the intense back pain was still there.  I was just not progressing, I was at 4 cm by 5am.  Around 5:15am we decided to transport to the hospital.  I was reluctant, but I trusted Kaye and Lindy completely. Some time before then Leslie had come back and Amy had gone home.

We arrived at the hospital around 6am.  I was wearing a robe and a tank top.  Every time I had a contraction, I'd stop in the hall, lean against the wall, and gush fluid all over the floor.  As soon as I
checked in, I asked for an epidural thinking if I could relax, maybe  that would help.  So they paged the doctor, not my doctor of course, his wife was sick so I had a back-up, back-up doc. 

I was wearing a tank top and my robe.  When I got into a room, the nurse threw a paper gown on the bed  and told me to put it on.  I asked if I could wear my own clothes.  She said it was against hospital policy.  I told her I would sign an Against Medical Advice waiver.  She got angry and left the room, but I was wearing my own clothes. 

Kaye and Lindy left to take care of another lady in labor.  It was a full moon, there were lots of women in labor.  The next nurse who was assigned to me treated me with utter distaste for trying to do this
at home.  I GOT another nurse assigned to me.  This labor was rough enough without having to fight the staff too.  The new nurse paged the doctor too.  He didn't respond until almost 9am! 

At home I was dealing with the contractions, not very well, but I
was making do.  Now that I was in the hospital, hooked up to and I.V. and fetal monitors, I couldn't move. The pain in my back was unbearable.  At 8:30 my new nurse (the 3rd one now) mercifully called for the anesthesiologist and said she'd get ahold of a doc to order me an epidural.  The guy came to do my epidural at 9am and was astounded that I had asked for it at 6:30.  My husband and Leslie were not allowed to stay with me during the procedure.  He kept telling me to relax my back. HA!

Right after the epidural started to take effect, the doctor came to see me. Finally!  He was very rude.  He said babies die when people try homebirths, and a VBAC at that!  He told me I should just give in and have a c-section right now because the baby was not going to
come out of me unless he took it.  I begged for a chance to labor.  I said that I would not sign for a c-section unless he could give me a valid medical reason; unless my life or the baby's life was in
danger.  Then absolutely, until then hands off!

Visibly angry he said he'd give me 2 hours.  No pressure.  Absolutely terrified and crying, Leslie called Kaye and Lindy to let them know what was happening.  True to his word, the doctor showed up 2
hours later on the dot.  He checked the baby and I and we were both fine.  I said no surgery.  He went away again and told my new nurse, (finally one who treated me with an ounce of respect), to call him in an hour.

She didn't, she waited for him to call.  When he did, he wouldn't even speak to me.  He asked to speak to my husband.  He told Gordon that I was being irresponsible, how long was he going to let me do this.  That's how babies die you know!  Did he want to raise 2, well possibly 1 child without a wife/mother? My poor husband.

I was progressing very, very slowly.  The doctor came some time in the late afternoon.  The nurse told him I was a good 8 cm so he did a check too.  He told her no way was I at 8cm, he said I was only a 6 at best!  He told me he'd like to get this over with before dinner, and that if he left, he didn't want to come back in the middle of the night.  He ordered pitocin to be started.  I fought and lost. 

Crying again, I called Kaye and Lindy, they were just finishing up at the other birth and would be back in a little while.  Poor Leslie, this was more than she bargained for I think. Kaye and Lindy returned and had an idea.  They spoke to the charge nurse who created a diversion down the hall.  Kaye stuck her arm up me, pushed the baby out of the birth canal, and turned her.  Bam!  I was at 9 ½ cm with a little lip. 

Kaye and Lindy and the charge nurse had me start pushing as they held back the lip. I was doing it! This was really going to happen.  I'd
show that jerk!  But there was a lot of blood, (probably from Kaye's arm inside me up to her elbow!) But the charge nurse  was concerned about uterine rupture. 

The doctor called and ordered a blood test as it was getting close to 24 hours since my bag of waters broke, and he wanted to check for infection.  I tried to fight it because I didn't have a temperature, but I was getting tired of fighting.  The results of the test revealed a high white cell count, (incidentally, it was the same as it was when I was
admitted but...)   The nurse said it was probably from uterine rupture, hence all the blood.  That could kill my baby or me.  She also informed me that the doctor had begun administrative procedures with the hospital staff to court order me to have cesarean.  I had lost.

I signed the consent form and started to cry. Gordon, Kaye, Lindy, and Leslie tried to be supportive, but I had failed again.  As I was wheeled in to surgery and the stronger drugs began to take
effect, I fell asleep.  Gutted again, a beautiful 9lb 10oz baby girl was pulled from my belly.  On the plus side, Gordon and Leslie were allowed to be with me during the surgery, although I wasn't aware of it.

The doctor asked Gordon if I had had problems with the first surgery because there was a lot of scar tissue.  I believe his exact words were, "it's a mess in here!"  My uterus had adhered to my abdominal wall so completely,  he couldn't take it out to sew it up (standard c-section practice is to take the uterus out of the abdominal cavity to repair it).  He said he cleaned it up the best he could and told my husband that from now on, I would need to schedule a cesarean
section.  NO WAY!  I'll never consent to major elective surgery. 
Now I am on a mission.
 

 

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