It’s been quite some time since I’ve talked about Maya’s birth, largely because her birth went so smoothly, it was a non-issue. Once I got past the initial soreness (oh, and the tailbone pain that lasted for six week, yikes!), I stopped really thinking much about it. Maya was born at home, in water, and if I should ever have another child (not impossible, but not likely either), I’d want to do it the same way, assuming an emergency facility was a short drive away.

In last week’s first edition of Pediatric Grand Rounds, the dangers (subtext: stupidity) of homebirth became an issue, and I read through the comments feeling completely intimidated by all of the medical professionals who overwhelmingly told me that I was an irresponsible idiot who was selfish enough to “want a good experience.” Okay, they weren’t talking to me, but it was weird to read their descriptions and feel a disconnect — the pictures they painted were so very different from my experience.

This week, Selkie contributed two long, thorough posts about homebirth, both statistics/facts and her personal experience. If you’re interested in the least, these are worth reading.

Why Would You Do That At Home? Part One: Home and Hospital
Part Two: Risks and Outcomes

As I wrote in the comments for the second post, the biggest value I found in working with a midwife (versus an OB/GYN) was the sheer volume of personal attention I received, both before and after the birth.

During each and every prenatal visit, I spent a full hour (at least) with my midwife (M). She asked questions I wouldn’t have even thought to answer, and I asked her questions based on my (eternal) reading online. When I talked to my friends about their prenatal visits with an OB/GYN, they almost uniformly described the same thing: long waiting room times, five minutes max time with the doctor, out of 15 minutes total time with any HC professional.

It was a good experience to give birth at my home. There were no fluorescent lights (blech). There weren’t loud sounds of other people’s misery. The only moaning was my own, and I was able to do that as I needed. There weren’t any hospital smells — oh, how I hate hospital smells! I had a trained professional present whose sole responsibility was me (well and baby afterward). She kept an eye on me, checked the baby’s heart tones way more frequently than I wanted (the baby pushed around whenever she used the doppler, and that HURT!), and gently coached me. When I started to feel scared and tense up, she helped me learn how to relax instead of fighting against what my body was trying to do.

After Maya’s birth, my midwife spent 2-1/2 to 3 hours with us, evaluating the baby, ensuring that I was stable and healthy (if tired), and giving guidance for what to do/expect for the next 18 hours or so until she would return to my home to see us again.

Yes, you read it right: I got housecalls. For the first 2 weeks, I saw M at least every second or third day, and each day, she helped me with the process of becoming a mother, now that I’d given birth. She helped me get nursing established. She answered the weird questions that I would have forgotten by some OB’s six-week post-partum check. She helped me to feel confident.

No, homebirth isn’t the best option for everyone. My pregnancy was uncomplicated, and I was healthy from the beginning. I’m in tune with my body more than most people (my midwife was always amazed at the things I’d notice). I would have felt more fear in a hospital (fear of a c-section, for instance) than I did at home.

It is a good option for people like me, and I’m grateful that it’s not criminalized in Colorado, and I was allowed a licensed professional’s help through the process.