I am sad (and relieved) to announce that ICAN of Greater Missoula is officially closed. I really don’t understand why it wasn’t sustainable in this community. Here are a couple of thoughts . . .
1. The homebirthers and homebirth midwives are doing their part for sure, but unless you know someone personally who has birthed at home or who has used a midwife or is a midwife, you just won’t know much about how that works here in the greater Missoula area.
2. The traditional birth culture prescribed by the medical community does not want to change. Sure they built a “birth center” at the hospital, but all that really means is that women now have private bathrooms, tubs (I wonder if women are even allowed to use them?), and nicer accommodations. I don’t think anything has fundamentally changed to make birthing healthier for women and babies at our hospital. If I’m wrong, I’m happy to update this post at any time. Our docs participate in a town-wide on call group. What this means is that if you don’t birth your baby during office hours or during your doctor’s on call duty, you’re not likely to have your doctor help you birth your baby. There are a few doctors that this does not apply to, and the key is to be with one of them. Our medical community “killed” the birth center established by Dr. Montgomery, but kudos to Jeanne Hebl, CNM for establishing a successful homey birth center after Dr. Montgomery’s untimely death. By November 15, 2011 Hebl’s birth center had assisted with 100 births.
3. Women (families) in this town don’t know that they are “allowed” to have an opinion about birth much less how to have the birth experience that best suits their needs and wishes. This is where I feel like I failed. For example, when I was planning my HBA2C I ran into an acquaintance whose wife was getting ready for her 3rd cesarean. They were told they weren’t allowed to do a VBA2C in Missoula. I didn’t birth my baby at home, much to my surprise and chagrin, but I did have a most unlikely and uncommon VBA2C at the local hospital with a very good OB who did his best to scare the shit out of me during my appointments. However, when push came to shove (literally) – HE WAS THERE.
Support for women and families in this community will always be there. I hope families continue to seek out the best birth experiences that fit their needs and their dreams. I will continue to offer support when and where I can. And VBAC/CBAC support in Missoula does have a Facebook presence. Click here to reach our page.
I am so out of the loop when it comes to anything having to do with reproduction these days. I’m not in the loop . . . I’m not in the outskirts or the suburbs. I’m off the grid. However, a new comment on my ever “popular” miscarriage and hormones post made me feel compelled to post an update.
Random thoughts about life, birth, and the like . . .
My 1/2 acre yard and gardens are in disastrous condition, but I did plant some annuals today; that made me happy!
My husband is getting ready to add a second floor to our house – his company is called Aria Construction, and they do fantastic high-end work
My youngest is now almost 11 months – I still want to smash her into 0-3 mo. clothes…
The twins will be 3 in August, and they are such a joy and such a torment. I still can’t believe they are mine!!
My oldest, age 7, had a stupidly horrible time in 1st grade. Here’s hoping for rest and recovery this summer and a better experience in 2nd grade.
No, I’ve still not written my birth story from July 12, 2011 . . . what’s the hang-up? Well, I still have issues with G’s birth and with a local care provider. That’s part of it, I’m sure.
Am I recovered from my birth losses?
Yes and no . . . those losses, in a way, made these last three children possible. However, I still feel an emptiness that will never go away.
Am I recovered from my birthing losses?
Mostly no. Physical activity causes the adhesions to hurt. The unevenness in my lower abdomen (fat layer – scar – fat layer) is something I see and feel every day. Although my VBA2C was a “success,” I feel quite bitter about the last weeks (from 31 weeks to nearly 42 weeks) of my pregnancy. From 39 weeks onward, every day was a struggle, emotionally. The birth was stressful. I didn’t feel a darned thing and had to be told when and how to push. I didn’t birth my child, but at least I didn’t have to endure her being cut out of my body.
Birth advocacy . . .
I still feel quite out of sorts about childbirth in Missoula and elsewhere. Any time I see that someone had a cesarean – primary or repeat – I want to know why. I wish Missoulians seemed to care more about how they birth their babies. I feel like people either go the homebirth route and mostly enjoy a rewarding birth experience or people sign up for the slaughter. I know there are good docs and good nurses out there, but I definitely lack trust. And people don’t know their rights or don’t care that they have rights or don’t know how to exercise their rights when it comes to their own health care. Everyone else seems to just mind their own business. <shrug> I’m planning a few VBAC Resources and Support sessions this year – wish me luck!
Well, who would have thought this past year would bring so much difference for you, woman!
Seriously, this has been an epic year for me. I happily and healthily grew another blessing. Against all odds, really . . . I had a successful hospital VBA2C. I held my ground and refused a cesarean. I achieved tenure and was promoted at my University. I performed a solo faculty recital (my recital partner backed out on me a week prior) a mere 2 months post partum! My hubby and I drove to and from Denver for the holidays with our four young kids (which I consider a HUGE success). My Dad flew me to Houston to check on my ailing aunt, and I was able to see my mom, brother, SIL, niece, and meet my nephew! And we ended our childbearing years yesterday with a vasectomy.
It’s crazy to think that my childbearing years are over. I love pregnancy. I might even be addicted to pregnancy. I am jealous of every pregnant woman I see. And thankfully a part of me is at peace with being done. But, now I have to face raising these beautiful children that my husband and I conceived. Some days it’s really really hard to be a good parent . . . to be a minimally acceptable parent. I never feel like I’m a spectacular parent. But maybe now that I’m done making, baking, and birthing babies, I can focus on being a better parent?
So, what’s next? I think I’ll eat a little something and go for my hike. Guess I’ll have to postpone finishing my birth story until this afternoon while my birthday cake is baking.
After that I’ll continue herding my little flock of kids and herding my big flock of students and loving my husband and my home!
I’ve been so overwhelmed with the start of a new academic year, raising four young daughters, and trying to reserve some time for fun . . . that I have neglected other important aspects of who I am. I am this blog! And I am an empowered birther! Are you?
Even if you had pain meds . . . or an induction . . . or a cesarean . . . you might have had an empowered birth. Who decides what constitutes an empowered birth. YOU DO, and don’t you forget it. It’s not for medicalists or luddites to determine though many are happy to throw in an oar. You have to be ok with your birth experiences, and if you’re not, I encourage you to figure out why and try to resolve that.
Did I have an empowering birth experience? I suppose the answer depends on the moment you ask me about it. Sometimes I think that if I had gone a different direction in terms of care providers that I’d have had a birth experience perhaps more resemblant of the one I so deeply desired. Sometimes I think that my pain-in-the-ass, scare-tactic OB was an angel. He was the best birth coach ever, as far as I’m concerned, especially considering that I had NO idea where my ass was nor how to push from that imaginary ass.
And it’s ok to struggle with being ‘ok’ with your birth experiences whether they are au natural or full-service medicalized. It’s ok to question (or not) the validity of your birth choices (or the choices made on your behalf). Wherever you are on the spectrum, I encourage you to think of yourself as an empowered woman. You have the power to be fully present and accepting and/or participant in your health care decisions. For me, being fully present and a participant are at the heart of being an empowered ‘patient.’
Two weeks ago today I was utterly hopeless. By 1pm I had lost my midwife and pissed off the only medpro that was ‘in charge’ of me.
Two weeks ago today and at this time I should have been getting prepped for a repeat cesarean. Instead, we called the hospital that morning and called the OB’s office to cancel that surgery. We felt the surgery was at best premature but more than likely completely unnecessary and scheduled out of medico-legal fear. The only reason I allowed the scheduling of that surgery was because I didn’t think I’d still be pregnant at 41 weeks and 4 days and didn’t plan on needing an obstetrician anyway!
Two weeks ago today and by this time of day, my husband had called my midwife. He thought her suggestion to just show up at the hospital on that day (with relatively no labor signs) just to appease the doctor was quite strange. Little did we know that she no longer felt comfortable helping us at home. Thank God my husband was able to pull that out of her. So . . . by this time of day I was that patient who goes against medical advice (AMA) and cancels a scheduled surgery and doesn’t check back in with the OB and doesn’t show up at the hospital during business hours. And my midwife abandoned me when I needed her and expected her the most.
Two weeks ago today and an hour from now, I took a 2.5oz dose of castor oil that did nothing but make me feel sick to my stomach. We started getting ready to go to the hospital. I had no idea what you put in a hospital bag . . . couldn’t remember. I tried to rest but was restless; tried to sleep but was too wired. Sleep was way to passive for me at the time – I had walked a big blister onto the bottom of my foot; I had bounced on the ball; I had squatted. I researched ways to help get my baby better positioned if and when contractions resumed. I researched post-41-week birth outcomes. I looked and looked for any justification for a pre-42-week cesarean. I looked and looked for evidence that stillbirth rates doubled at this point in a healthy pregnancy.
Two weeks ago today . . . by 1:02pm, I had no faith in myself. I had no faith in my birth community. I had no faith in my care providers. And yet I had so much . . . an amazingly supportive husband, my in-laws who dropped their plans and raced up her from Denver to take care of us, my 3 sweet girls, and my cozy happy healthy baby in utero. Why did it have to be such a hopeless day?
I decided to blog about my OB, Dr. Jeckyll & Mr. Hyde, over at My Best Birth. Here’s an excerpt:
So, I arrive this morning with my husband. After the nurse weighs me and takes my blood pressure, she tells me to unclothe waist-down. I then notice the ultrasound machine right by the bed. “Uh oh,” I think. Compliant-patient side of me agrees to undress (though I know my cervix is still high and posterior). Not-gonna-comply-patient will not agree to an ultrasound!
This week, instead of having a big baby, I have “not a very big baby” (based on external palpation) . . . “maybe 6 6.5 pounds right now.” I’m measuring “right on” (which he didn’t say last week). Everything looks good. No worries. Who is this guy!? So, a very straight-forward appointment with Dr. Hyde this week. At this point, I am planning on keeping my 39 week appointment, just so he doesn’t get suspicious of anything. Suspicious of what, you might wonder?