I’m reblogging this mostly because i’m going through EXACTLY the same motions, at least with respect to how medicalised my birthing experience is likely to be, as compared to New Zealand.
I trust my body. I trust my body in a way that probably freaks out medical professionals. But on top of the fact that women have been giving birth for millenia, I have also been working hard to exercise and strengthen my body, more specifically, my pelvic muscles, to function as effectively as possible and help my baby through his birthing journey. Before yesterday, I was actually feeling quite confident and zen about giving birth. Now… I feel powerless about the whole thing, and its not a good feeling.
Yesterday I went for a tour of the obstetric ward and was told that, in spite of wanting a natural birth, I had no choice about:
– the birthing position (on back; legs in stirrups – not the most effective for easing discomfort, helping baby through the birth canal or avoiding perineal tears – and they’re supposed to be f’ng experts?!)
– being injected with syntocin to help the placenta detach (when i said this wasn’t advised by the NZ Midwives Council, the midwife rebutted with ‘yeah but whats the rate of post-natal haemorrhage?’ as if to prove a point which doesn’t stand because its more likely in underdeveloped countries; and AGAIN, they’re supposed to be the experts).
– skin-skin not immediate but AFTER the 15-20 observation period where baby is taken to another room (and this time, I ask: what the f*** do they learn during their training???).
I feel really angry that in spite of going private, which i thought would allow me to a) build a rapport with the staff and b) have my birth choices respected, I feel like i have no choice over my birth experience.
With exactly 1 month to go to my due date (23 Sep in France, although 16 september in NZ), I’ve decided to meet with a liberal sage femme (independant midwife) to ask her what real choices I have in the delivery room. It seems sooo last minute to have found out I don’t have choices about one of the most important moments of my life but I hope she will be able to provide me with reassurances of some sort…
At the very least, reading this blogpost has validated my own experience (thus far) and for that, I’m greatful. To feel like I’m not the only one who feels ripped off.
Today is Halloween. I’ve been home alone as my husband and brother went to Paris for the day. Mostly it went well, but at a certain point I traveled down one of those horrible paths that googling “birthing experiences” can take you and got rather traumatized.
Not from a particular story (I’ve found them all to be very inspiring, and I’m really glad that I’m reading them) but of a comment I read, by accident, really, as I was heading towards the “next post” button.
“I lost my baby at 38 weeks,” it said.
My heart froze, my lungs stopped working, and I frantically tried to remember when the last time I felt the baby move was. Unfortunately this occurred during what was probably a sleep cycle and I realized that I hadn’t felt the baby move in awhile. I poked and prodded until I got a feeble kick.
And then spent…
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