Why I chose a home birth

I am not a hippie. I am in no way a "granola" girl, as I like to put it. My daughter knows every show on the Disney Junior channel and isn't even two yet. We eat red meat, gluten, and Cheetos in our house because we think they are tasty. 

But I chose to have a home birth.

And a lot of people have asked me, "why?"

Well, here's my story. 

I did not have the best experience giving birth to Zoey in a hospital. The OB office I went to had several different doctors and nurse practitioners and never felt like more than just a file to any of them. In the last three months of our care, we were asked about circumcision for our son at least 10 times, and every time we had to tell them we were having a girl, they said "oh okay! We will put a note on your file and you won't be asked again." I was told I had high blood pressure, when really it wasn't as astronomical as they led me to believe. I was never given any advice on ways I could keep my numbers down, or to take it easy, I was just told I had high blood pressure. 

I was told at my 40 week checkup I needed to be induced that day because of my high blood pressure, then had to wait overnight in the hospital to get induced the next morning. I had specifically asked in the doctors office if delaying my induction for at least a day to see if my blood pressure would go down would be possible, and they doom and gloomed me into going that day because I needed to be induced right away. I was checked in, and then bed-ridden almost immediately. I was given medication to prep me for induction, less than an hour after- my water broke. After 20 hours of being at the hospital, and many drug injections (magnesium, pitocin, an anesthetic pain killer, and a semi-successful epidural, plus enough bags of IV fluid to make me swell up like a water balloon) Z baby made her debut. She was perfect, I was not. I felt sick, irritable, weak, and all around awful (not neccessarily how you want to feel when you're holding your firstborn for the first time). I wanted to eat, but was not cleared to eat because of my blood pressure (this is what I was told). After hours of begging the nurse staff to let me have something other than ice chips, I was finally allowed to have a liquid diet- something I had been cleared for a few hours prior, but since the birthing wing was so overloaded that weekend, I had gotten lost in the shuffle. Still not great, but at least it was something. I finally got released from the hospital two days after Zoey was born, still groggy from my drug cocktail, but I was glad to finally be going home. And felt like once I got home, I was able to rest much better and actually start recovering, especially since I wouldn't have someone waking me up every hour to take my vitals.

And once it was over, I knew that this was not the beautiful experience that I had pictured. At all. I felt like I had been through a major medical procedure that I had no control over, rather than a major life changing experience that I felt everyone told it would be. I was happy that Z was born healthy and that she was a thriving baby, but I felt like I could've given us both a much better experience of her coming into the world. So I researched birth facts and procedures. I talked to other friends who had babies. And when I found out I was pregnant with Lily, I researched more and prayed hard over the decision I felt God leading me to. 

I won't say that Andy was gung-ho about the idea of a home birth at first. It was a very long discussion about why I had chosen this, and why he wasn't included in this thought process. I admit, I did spring it on him, and I shouldn't have. I should have told him how I felt long before I did. But he agreed that we would go for a consultation at Sweet Child O Mine and we would pray about it, and would see from there. And while he still cracks jokes about us going to a witch doctor or being crazy hippies, he knows that the care and treatment I've received in the last 9 months has been more personalized and better quality than we ever received before. Our amazing midwife, Kim, knows our family quite well now. She always asks where Zoey is if we don't bring her with us to an appointment. Any complaints I've had, she's always had some sort of suggestion to help with that problem. The few times my blood pressure has been higher than normal, she's given me relaxation techniques and supplements I can take to help bring it down. She wants to know how things are going in our life. She knows about Andy's unemployment, and always asks if we've heard anything.  She asks how I'm doing with it. I feel like everyone in the office is part of our family. 

Lily's birth process was MUCH different than Z's was. I was able to relax at home. I walked around A LOT, especially since that seemed to keep everything more regular as far as my contractions went. I ate! I laughed with my friends Tara and Jessica- my AMAZING support team pretty much throughout my whole pregnancy and especially on our big day (and fellow midwifery users), who told me every step of the way how awesome I was doing, and kept up with the amazing wit of my hilarious husband. I felt great, despite every minute long contraction that would creep in and occasionally steal me of my ability to speak. I was cracking jokes and being silly well into the 8cm territory, something that was well out the window at 5 with Z. After my water broke though, that's when it got real.

I struggled in transition and with the pushing. Trying to get centered and push through the contractions was the hardest part of the whole thing, as I felt like there were times I had no break. I had some short breaks in my contractions where I prayed for God to give me strength I couldn't muster on my own. My amazing husband was by my side the whole time, other than to occasionally move out of the way so the birth assistant could check Lily's heartbeat. I gave birth to our sweet, second daughter in our bathtub. I felt relieved and amazed. One of the first things I did was look at Andy and say, "we did it!" He just looked at me and said, "no, YOU did it!" My heart overflowed with joy at the sight of Miss Lily Morgen as they laid her right on my chest after her arrival. My morning flower, born in the late night hour. I held her and praised God for bringing me through something that a few years ago I would have been terrified to do. When it was over- I was smiling, had energy to take a shower, and was happy. 

People have told me I am brave for having a home birth. I wouldn't call it bravery. I can think of plenty of women who are much braver than myself. Women who have more than two babies, women who go into the armed forces, women who somehow manage to balance full time work and a family (seriously- I don't understand how you do it). The only thing brave I see about what I did is that I stood up for myself and how I would be treated in giving birth. Home birth is a feared creature, for no reason other than its out of the traditional norms of today's society. Truth be told, I was scared at first. But after having so many friends who experienced it, and had such success and positive feelings about what had happened, I knew there had to something more to giving birth than being put in an uncomfortably small, unfamiliar room to do one of the most beautiful things in the world.

I still believe that there are people who can and do have beautiful experiences giving birth in hospitals. I know that home births are not for everyone, and there are some people who have greatly benefitted from the technology and medically necessary interventions found only in hospitals. But for our family, we now can't imagine doing it any other way. 

Lily: a symbol of purity, innocence, and beauty

Morgen: German descent, meaning "morning"

(My dads last name/should've been my maiden name is Morgenthaler- so Lily is named for him and for Andy's Grandpa Morgan as well) 

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