Processing Birth

Overall my birth went exceedingly well. Sure, it took nearly 30 hours, but there were never any whispers about needing to transfer to the hospital, no pain meds, I didn't even have an IV. At worst I popped some hemorrhoids but had not a single tear to my perineum even with the big ole 10 lb baby. A success by most standards.

Despite all that, I came away from my birth with shame. I was embarrassed that as a doula I hadn't hired a doula and I thought that I must've done something wrong to be in labor so long. I was plagued by dwelling thoughts speculating what the midwives thought of me, wondering if I had been a "trouble client" for laboring so long and not having a doula.

It took me a few days and lots of reflecting with the hubbo before I started combating the shame. After asking the hubbo for umpteenth time, "So I didn't do too bad?" I realized my longstanding mental habits and low esteem were threatening my birth memories. I decided it was time to "do the doula" and help myself.

I told myself that A) It doesn't matter what the midwives think and B) I'm just a client to them, they won't remember me or my birth after a while! I emphasized how big Baby was, a fact that I was minimizing, ("it doesn't matter how big the baby is, any labor over 15 hours is just too long") when in reality it makes total sense for a big baby to take longer to get out. I also reminded myself that never once did I "give up" or "lose my shit." It was difficult but I kept coping, plodding along, no hysterics-that's not being a burdensome client, that's not embarrassing, that's commendable.

It was also important and difficult for me to stop comparing births and stop trying to give myself a grade. I think this was closely tied to my low self esteem and worthlessness issues. I spent all my school years and college years trying to get perfect grades to somehow make myself feel worthwhile, to earn love, and I was blindsided by how compelled I was to grade my birth. Everyone's birth is different and as the husband put it, "Ya got the baby out and you both were healthy, that's an A+!"

So, it's been a journey but I'm proud of my birth now. I even found myself walking around the other day thinking, "I'm a unicorn!" It's a rare thing to have a birth like my birth and that's nothing to be ashamed of!


The hubbo is convinced things would not have turned out so well had we been receiving OB care and birthing in a hospital and I agree. He thinks I would've been a cesarean for sure or at least torn or cut to high hell. It's scary to think of what my birth would've been like had we been at a hospital and we'll never know, but I do know it's heartbreaking to think I would've missed out on catching my baby and scary to think how much more difficult recovery would've been with birth injuries or a cesarean scar! I'm so lucky that I knew my options, a lot of ladies just don't have a clue what they're missing out on when it comes to maternity care and I'm lucky enough to have found out before I was in labor.

Oh, and did I mention my husband is now an outspoken supporter of out of hospital birth centers and unmedicated birth? Apparently he went into our pregnancy and birth with healthy skepticism and came out a changed man!

October Here Already

I can't believe a week is already gone.

October is my favorite month (a major reason I want to be married in October next year) but I haven't been savoring the month like I usually do. The fiance and I have had weekend plans and I've been going to yoga class, but I haven't been supremely busy by any means.

It's been months since the big depressive relapse, but I'm still not in full gear. Maybe for some people a major depressive episode comes and goes with little trace, but for me the residual damage can stretch out for months. The most important thing is trying not to rip myself apart for being less-than full power.

Unfortunately as important as this is it's also just as difficult for me. Just yesterday I was beating myself up for entertaining the thought of adopting a dog. I'm most definitely a cat person and hate visiting kennels because of the doggy smell but for some reason I was very intent on the idea of adding a dog to our crowded apartment.

Once the brain fog subsided and I dismissed the idea as impossible I began constantly berating myself for being irresponsible and foolish. With that self-hate comes negativity the emanates from the dark recesses in my mind and inevitably annoys and sometimes hurts others around me.

This weekend the fiance was in the danger zone. The closest people to us always take the most emotional flak and the frustration of hurting him without wanting to brings on the guilt and shame and makes the whole thing even worse!

Lucky for me my man and I can talk about anything and eventually we talked our way out of my mood roller coaster and proceeded to enjoy the weekend together.

This weekend my folks came up for pizza, beer, and card games. I had been anticipating their visit because I wanted to share some news but I never took the opportunity during their visit. Right after they left I shared my disappointment in not sharing my news with the fiance and as if on cue, Mom knocked on the door with some things I left in their trunk!

We set down the items and then followed her down to the car so I could tell my parents together.

What was the news? I'm going to get a job, go back to school to finish prerequisites in order to apply to a midwifery program. I want to be a baby catcher!

Dad was completely blindsided and Mom was a little shocked but ecstatic to hear my plans. Later that night I got a text saying that they were happy about my new goals.

Now all we can do is wait and see how it goes :o)