This post is about home birthing. At #MidMiMB, we support all moms and recognize that everyone’s background, opinions, and beliefs are different. In sharing this post, we are not advocating one form of birthing over another. We are not offering or suggesting medical advice. We are simply sharing this beautiful story, written by one of our amazing contributors. We thank her for sharing her experience!
Hooray! We did it. We gave birth to our second child, Enoch, at home in the wee hours of the morning on July 10, 2018. He is our first successful home birth after an unexpected transfer with our daughter 2 years ago. It felt awesome to have succeeded in our home birth this time around.
When we tell our birth story to people who don’t know we’re home birthers, quite often we come across the following response…
Them: So, where did you give birth?”
Me: “At home.”
Them: “Wow! You’re so much braver than I am!”
Um, not really. Sure, I get it. Home birth isn’t the norm anymore; though, it is on the rise. We’re told by countless others – our doctors, family, and friends – that a hospital is the best place; regardless of what you feel is best for you and your baby. I thought so as well before I thought about what I’m most comfortable with. Truthfully, I’m not comfortable at all with hospitals, outside of visiting someone. I understand that home birth seems “weird” and “strange” to most.
So, here’s a little insight as to why I think that I’m not braver than you for giving birth at home:
1. It was actually terrifying for me.
Wait, what? Yes, you read that right. It. Was. Terrifying. This time around, it happened… fast. I felt like I had absolutely no time to think about anything. I swam in the pool at the gym for nearly 2 hours. By the time I got out, I was already experiencing early labor contractions {even though I was convinced that it was false labor}. I drove the 3-minute drive home, got into the house, changed my clothes, and sat down to watch an episode of our favorite show on Netflix.
My labor picked up so quickly that, within about an hour of arriving home, I was already in active labor. I was scared. I felt unprepared. The postpartum PTSD that I suffered with from last time came flashing back. I was scared of another transfer to the hospital. But, with calm reassurance from my husband, midwife, and doula, I knew what I needed to do.
2. It. Was. PAINFUL.
For those of us who have been through it, we all know that labor is painful. Last time, I transferred to the hospital, stuck at 4cm dilation. I received an epidural for pain management. So, I never experienced the pain of “transition” or that feeling of hopelessness. Boy, did I feel that this time and man, did it hurt! I had to breathe as best as I could through every contraction. I had to do things that I wasn’t too fond of – like getting up and walking at nearly full dilation. I cried, pouted, shouted, “shook like a dog”, and clung to my husband {who was a champ, by the way}.
3. It was exhausting.
We had little time to prepare anything. Neither of us had napped that day. My husband worked nearly an 11-hour shift and I had run errands all day with our daughter. Even though it was only a 7-hour labor, we had previously not gotten any rest. So, that made for an exhausting night and day. I wanted to give up quite often because I was so tired. But, of course, we made it through and we have our sweet son!
My point is this, just because I gave birth at home, vaginally, and without medications and interventions, doesn’t make me somehow “better” or “braver” than women who give birth in a hospital, by cesarean, or in a birth center. Yes, I coped with the pain naturally and yes, we did it all in the place we live. Did it make it any easier? Nope. It was still extremely hard. Was it worth it in the end? Absolutely. Will I seem “braver” for continuing to be a home birther in the future? Nope.
Just keep in mind, every single one of us is brave just for going through it all! Simply becoming a mom {no matter how or where you did it} makes YOU brave. Don’t ever fool yourself into thinking that you’re lesser than the next woman who did it differently than you.
