Sarah Eleanor's Birth Story

My name is Rachel Green and I had my first baby at home in a small town in Northwest Arkansas, attended by three lay midwives. The main midwife was my husband's aunt and, as back-up, decided to hire another midwife out of Little Rock in addition to herself. The third midwife was a friend and sort of along for the ride since she was also nine months pregnant.

I went to the county health department for prenatal care, checking my iron, growth of my uterus, and the protein and sugar levels in my urine; I also visited my midwife regularly to double-check the clinic's data. My midwife recommended special exercises designed to help the baby move into position as well as herbal teas which would generally help me throughout my pregnancy and labor. I only had one ultrasound (when I was about 16 weeks pregnant) just to double-check my expected due date and to see if I might have twins. One date said November 10 and the ultrasound date said November 16. I remember my midwife getting nervous because I had gone over a week and according to her practice, she wouldn't be able to deliver me if I went over my due date by two weeks.

I learned so much with my prenatal care. My midwife could actually feel through my tummy where the baby's head or butt was just by the way it moved when she gently moved it. By such simple skills and techniques, I developed an immense trust and respect for this woman who would guide me through the birthing process. She also lent me videos and books about several different birth experiences so that I would understand exactly what would happen.

After months of preparation, I was quite relieved to not have to pack to go to the hospital. My mother had had three of her seven children at home attended only by my father (who is a carpenter, not a doctor). Because of my mother's experiences, I developed a faith in my body's ability to have my baby in a natural familial environment. I would be 22 when my baby was to be born.

It was Wednesday, November 20, 1996 at about 5:30 a.m. when I began to feel the onset of my contractions. Fortunately, my husband hadn't left for work yet and I told him to call in. A little later, I had him call his aunt (the midwife) to say I wouldn't be coming in for my weekly exam since I was having contractions. She said to hang on and go ahead and come in as scheduled. As my contractions increased, I REALLY didn't want to drive the 20 minutes to see her and had him tell her so; besides, that's one of the reasons I wanted to have a home birth...so I didn't have to ride in a car during contractions. And believe me, with my husband's driving record, we wouldn't want to wish that on ANY pregnant woman. Later, I changed the message on the answering machine to say "I'm sorry we can't come to the phone right now because we are having a baby." My mom happened to call some time after that and got the hint, checked my sisters out of school and came over for the "birthing party." We had invited several family members and friends to be in on the birth. It was funny however when my mom kept trying to preserve my modesty when people wanted to see what was happening. "I mean really, I'm in labor, I don't care that people see my butt! It'll probably hurt them more than it'll hurt me!"

I decided to try to eat crackers and drink red raspberry leaf tea to help keep up my strength. Good idea in theory, but it just came right back up. My midwife had arrived by now (around 10 a.m.) and cheerfully said that each time I vomited that it was one more centimeter of dilation. I hadn't had much morning sickness throughout my pregnancy and wasn't too keen on feeling so god-awful sick in the midst of labor, but I respected her knowledge on the topic.

As the afternoon wore on, I tried to find a position I could tolerate. Finally I just decided to squat on the floor in front of my husband who was sitting on the birthing stool holding me steady. Meanwhile, one of my little sisters sat on the bed and kept a record of the birth with pen and paper (since I hadn't wanted the event filmed or photographed in action). Later, it was heaps of fun to see what exactly she had written. Stuff like "I'm in the living room and nothing much is happening. Oh, she just screamed." My husband told me later that I was just zoned. I can't remember very much except intense backache and REALLY bad cramps (contractions). One thing I DO remember is my husband feeding me ice cubes. That was just like heaven. I couldn't get enough ice.

I think I stayed in this squatting position for hours. I remember the next day wondering why exactly my toes were so sore. It was because I had dug my toes into the floor while squatting during labor. Funny thing muscles are. In any normal situation no one could squat for that long a period. It was nothing while I labored to give birth.

As evening approached, my midwives decided it might speed things up if they broke my bag of waters. So that's what happened. My husband swapped places with my older sister so he could catch the baby when the time came. I began to feel very tired and actually slept through some of my contractions. My midwives checked me occasionally and I was almost completely effaced and dilated to 10 when they asked if I felt like pushing yet. "No, not really," I said sleepily, desperately wanting the event to just be over with. I remember looking into my husband's eyes, searching for support and seeing him smile nervously. I just said, "Don't you smile at me," and grinned feebly.

One funny thing that happened in the midst of my night in the spotlight was the third midwife. Remember, I told you she was nine months pregnant. Well she began to have contractions too. We all speculated on how funny it'd be if two babies were born that evening. It was false labor though and HER baby was born a week later.

Coaxed into pushing, I tried to no avail. They checked me again and I had a swollen lip. They began to ice it down so we could start over. It was around 7 p.m. at this time. Then I just knew I had to push and I tried but it felt so futile. I remember thinking that this baby was NEVER gonna come out. My midwives began saying that they could see the head and there was a lot of hair. I remember thinking that they were lying to me and the baby wasn't really coming out. Then, just as these doubts began to take hold, one more contraction and I screamed and whoosh, the baby's head was out. As I screamed, my mother told me to be quiet or I was going to scare the baby. The cord was looped once around the neck, but my midwife's skillful hands took care of that. Then the entire baby was out and I knew it. It was 7:41 p.m. Everyone rushed to bundle up the baby (since it was November and the room wasn't well heated) and everyone got to touch and say hello to the new little person whom we named Sarah Eleanor.

Then there was a little commotion about the place after the placenta came out. My midwives took a look at me and told me that I had torn in both directions from my vagina. They said that they could repair the back tear, but they weren't sure about the front tear. So with a little bonding time with my newborn infant sucking at my breast, we decided to visit the ER to try and stitch up the tears.

I supposed to simply reinforce my opinion of hospitals, when I was examined there, the female doctor told me that the front tear couldn't be stitched up and it was commonly called a "skid-mark." Meanwhile, she stitched up the back tear and sent me on my way. So, my little trip to the hospital was for naught, which I suppose is exactly what I expected in the first place.

All in all, my home-birth experience was VERY wonderful. I would not trade that experience for anything. My beautiful girl came out weighing 8 pounds even and 19 and a half inches long. No complications, no drugs, just bunches of love and support with my family and friends.

I have recently had my second child in a hospital in Illinois attended by a nurse midwife. The experience was very good, especially considering how many horror stories I've heard about hospital births. My options were limited because I had moved 400 miles from my original midwife and away from my extended family. But if I have the option again in future pregnancies, I would like to deliver at home again. The comfort of familiar surroundings put me in charge of my birth and gave me the security that no one would whisk my baby off to some sterile warming tray while my arms ached to hold it. I am very proud to have been able to have my firstborn at home and not to have had one of the many hospital horror story births I've heard so much about.

The End

Interested? Visit Illinois Families for Midwifery for more information.