Stories

Madeleine's Story - Baby Roxanne - Melissa Gail

Melissa Gail

 In the early morning hours of April 4 I knew contractions were starting. But I tried to get more rest, as I knew my baby would be here by supper and I would need plenty of rest. I laid in bed reflecting on my previous births. There was no way I would allow this birth to end the same way and had taken great measures to ensure just that. This time there would be no unnecessary medical interventions, only that which was absolutely necessary since I was planning a homebirth.

At 5:00am I finally got out of bed to do some walking, contractions were a little closer together and the excitement was getting the best of me. I thought about how I was forced to go to the hospital way to early with Jared, our first baby. I was only dilated to a 2 when the drama began. My water was broke against my knowledge or permission, I.Vs were hooked up, and I was stuck in bed, which by the way, is extremely painful during labor! After no progress in 7 hours a c-section was done to ‘save his life.’ I later found out the doctor just didn’t know how to turn a baby and had something he needed to go to that night. I had to beg for five hours to hold my son.

Around 5:35 am I started to cook for the day. That was very helpful, as I didn’t have to concentrate on each and every contraction as my midwife had taught me. Here I was getting ready to have my third baby and everything seemed like it was the first time. I was just excited this time as I was with Jared or Anthony. I knew so much more this time it was amazing yet I didn’t even know if we were having a girl or boy. I thought about where I was in this stage of labor with the boys; flat of my back in a bed with nothing to eat or drink. At one point I was shaking from hunger and knew I would feel so much better if I just had real food. As I patted my tummy during a contraction, I took a big bite of my egg omelet, a tear ran down my cheek as I mourned the loss of a good birth that went bad for no real reason except a policy written by someone who had never even had a baby.

It seemed like I was in the kitchen for hours when the alarm set for 6:00 am went off in our bedroom. I rushed in to turn it off so it didn’t wake Mark. I kissed his cheek and told him he didn’t have to go to work today, he was going to be a father again by the end of the day. I went back to the kitchen, as I needed a good distraction from these contractions again. The food was almost done for lunch and supper. Breakfast was on the stove. I sat at the table and looked out the window, the beginnings of the sun started to peer out. Again my thoughts turned to my previous births. It took all my strength to have a VBAC with Anthony, but I did it. I thought of my previous birth plan and how it was laughed at once I got to the hospital. Then by the time I got to my room it was ‘lost.’ The doctor, I had diligently paid in full, in cash, was nowhere to be found. I had no idea that he didn’t even have an obligation to come to the hospital even after we had paid him. I laid there in total shock. I told them I ate a big meal right before I came in knowing they would have to allow me some time before they tried to push a c-section again. As I sat looking out the kitchen window I thought of how peaceful it was not having to deal with strangers who try to push their wants onto me during a most sensitive time as labor. I thought of how they tried to scare Mark into making me consent to another c-section while I was secretly pushing under the sheets. If it weren’t for a nurse watching my monitor at the nurse’s station I would have just kept pushing him out while they argued as to whether or not I could do it. By the time they got all their stuff together he was crowning, I pushed him out into the arms of a nurse I had grabbed by the arm and yelled, “Catch him!”

It was 6:25 before Mark came into the kitchen. He asked if I was really in labor or could this maybe be those Braxton Hicks again. I hugged him real hard and let him know this was for real. That woke him up, he started rushing around, asking what needs to be done. I told him breakfast, lunch and supper was on the stove and we were set for a day of baby. He asked if I had called the midwife yet and I let him know I wasn’t ready quite yet. He wanted to call his mom. Absolutely not, I told him. She was worse than dealing with hospital staff in labor. I thought of my labor with Anthony and how she had bullied Mark my whole pregnancy and told him over and over ‘Once a c-section, always a c-section.’ That came from a woman who had a saddle block and had her children dragged from her body with forceps. That was all Mark knew about birth growing up, and I didn’t know much more. I was always taught you just go to the hospital as soon as you are in labor and leave the decisions regarding yourself and your baby to someone else.

It was getting close to 7:00am when Mark insisted I call my midwife. She gave me some pointers and lots of encouragement and started on her way. I started the water for a nice warm bath, as contractions were growing more painful. I was sitting in a chair on the side of the tub when I just started crying. Mark rushed in. He asked if I needed to go to the hospital after all. I hugged him and let him know I was just having a hard time dealing with what had happened in my previous labors with the boys and I just needed support. I reassured him that physically I was fine, better than fine, I was in labor and it was wonderful. Wonderful isn’t the word used to describe most labor, but the excitement of being able to just have my baby with no fight or arguing, no strangers in and out, no IVs, and no bed, it was a wonderful labor despite thinking about my previous births.

I sank into the tub in total bliss. The contractions were harder, my excitement grew, but my feelings of loss of my two previous births kept creeping in. Mark poured water over my back during contractions. He paused and said, “ I’m so sorry for not trusting you during your pregnancy with Jared and Anthony. I know you love our children just as much as I do and would never do anything to put their life in danger. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to read and learn more or listen to what you had learned.” With that I burst into tears again. I needed to hear that, I know my healing began at that moment, he understood. We sat there in each other’s arms, calmness over came me. I thought I had felt peace with this labor all morning, but not like this. A great burden was lifted. I had been so angry for so long that he didn’t stand up for me in the hospital, he took the trader’s side, I had felt. I thought about my pregnancy and how far we had come as a couple, as a family. I smiled inside when I thought of how he had wrote my midwife a nasty letter telling her she was unqualified to deliver babies and he wanted someone who knew how to resuscitate and put his baby on oxygen if it were necessary. I chuckled inside thinking about how she wrote him a beautiful letter in return, not once scolding him for how he treated her. She assured him that she not only carried oxygen, and knew how to resuscitate a newborn, but taught CPR  many of the nurses in the area hospitals. So if he wanted to blame the nurses if something went wrong, she would still be the bad guy as she was the one who may have taught them.

There was a knock at the door. It was his mother! My heart sank. She had threatened to call child protective services and 911 if we went through with a homebirth. I hoped Mark would tell her I was sleeping and to leave. There was another knock. It was my midwife, Darlene. She came in and hugged Mark and his mother, congratulating them. Then she did something brave, she asked if Mark’s mother would help her! How did she know that would be the breaking point, how did she know that asking this cold, perfectly manicured woman that has given me nothing but grief, would melt her heart and she would be supportive.

It was 7:45am when I asked about the time. It seemed like hours, but it was just a few minutes. Contractions were much harder, much closer together, I needed support, but was so happy I could barely stand it. Darlene checked me while I was still in the tub. Baby’s heart tones were good, and I was already dilated to a 9, I cried again, smiling ear to ear. My thoughts went back to my labor with Anthony. At this time in labor I was refusing cervical checks every fifteen minutes, demanding they not put a screw into my baby’s head, and begging for something to eat with a little protein to build up my strength. Here I was in my own bathtub and my midwife knows what is important to me and will honor my wishes.

I wanted out of the tub. I think I just wanted a change of position to see if it helped these contractions. As I dried off and wrapped a towel around me, my midwife put her arm around me to help me to my room. My water broke as soon as I took one step. I looked over to see that she had brought all her equipment in and it was discretely waiting to be used. Mark had put the plastic sheeting on the bed, just in case I wanted to go there. But after drying off, I caught my breath and asked for the birth stool. Another contraction came immediately. I squatted with a push, I was amazed how my body knew what to do. I had thought of pushing on a bed, in the bath, and on the birth stool, but this felt good. My mother-in-law stood at the bathroom door holding the birth stool. I squatted again pushing. My midwife softly told me I was doing fine, my vital signs were good, baby’s heart tones were perfect, just push as I needed to. I looked at Mark, and gave in to my labor, I could feel my baby’s head emerging slowly. Wow, I had never actually experienced this before. I had been yelling at nurses during this time with Anthony. Darlene took Mark’s hands and led them to the baby’s head then she felt around the neck. Baby looks fine, she said, as our precious baby daughter slipped into his awaiting hands at 8:16am. I was crying, Mark was crying, my mother-in-law was crying, and in the hallway, there was Jared and Anthony crying because I was not in bed to snuggle them. My mother-in-law picked up Anthony and took Jared by the hand and stood in the bathroom doorway so they could see their new sister. I nursed her while waiting for the cord to stop pulsing and be cut. I was in total awe of her, all 9 pounds and 8 ounces. I did it, I did it, I kept thinking to myself.

I am writing this as part of my therapy. I want to share it with as many people possible.Even though I had the most wonderful birth, I have suffered tremendous postpartum depression at the loss and disappointment of my labor and births with Jared and Anthony. I am having such a hard time dealing with the fact that anyone could treat a laboring woman in such a way as to steal away her birth experience or make the birth of a child a horrible memory. After my homebirth everyone treated me as if I should just bounce back like super woman because I was strong to have a homebirth. But in reality it was enduring what I went though in the hospital that made me strong. I had to be strong to get through all of those policies and procedures, that were totally unnecessary, and still end up with a live baby. Homebirth was a breeze, for the first time I was taken care of, I had choices, I delivered my baby. And Mark stood with me.

I did have a small tear where my scar was from the tear with Anthony, but it was minor. We thought we had the perfect name picked out before her birth, but after Mark’s mother made such a complete turn around and has been so supportive since the birth, we decided to name our first daughter after both our mothers, hence the name Melissa Gail. I have never been separated from her and have exclusively nursed her from her first moment of birth.

just Karen
 

    I can do anything through Christ who strengthens me. I had to remember this verse over and over while I was in labor as this was not what I had envisioned five months ago when I got a positive pregnancy test.

     It was April when I went to see my midwife, Darlene, suspecting I was pregnant. Sure enough it only took two seconds for that test to show positive. I was so happy I raced home to make a nice meal for supper so I could tell my husband and our two sons.

    Over dinner I asked everyone what they wanted for Christmas that year. After I had heard about all the newest toys and CDs my husband, James, asked what I wanted. I quickly answered with either a boy or a girl. All the chattering stopped. “A boy or girl?” my husband asked with a puzzled look. “Yeeessss” I said slowly. He jumped up, picked me up out of my chair and twirled me around and around. The boys weren’t too sure they were happy quite yet. “Where will the baby sleep?” Michael asked. With me and dad, I said, as a matter of fact. “Yippeee” he said jumping around the table to join in the moment and try to get out of eating his vegetables at the same time. Soon all four of us were having so much fun we almost forgot to finish our meal.

   Four months later James and I went out on our once a month date, alone. We went to see a movie he had wanted to see since it came out. I had drank so much bottled water during the previews that by the middle of the movie I had to go find a bathroom. It was then that I noticed blood, bright red blood, the kind my midwife always says to call immediately if I ever saw any when I was pregnant with the boys. I sat in the bathroom stall and cried for a while. I knew blood was not a good sign. Even though I know many women have spotting and go on to have a normal uneventful pregnancy, I just had a dark gloomy feeling, I think back now and I knew something was wrong. I gathered myself and found my way back to the theater; I tapped my husband on the shoulder and motioned for him to come. I whispered, “We have to go.” With the light from the movie he could see that I had been crying, he got up and we walked to the back of the theater. I found a pay phone and called my midwife. When she answered all I could get out was, “Hi, Darlene, this is Melanie.” when I couldn’t choke out another word. She just said, “Come on over and let’s talk about it.” On the way to her house I finally found the words to tell my husband I had seen blood. He really didn’t get it since I had spotted in the first couple weeks with Johnathan, our second son.

     When we got to Darlene’s house she came out to meet us at the car with a warm hug, still not knowing what was wrong, just that I was upset. When we got inside I told her about the blood I had seen. She came and sat right in front of me and held both my hands. “What makes this spotting feel different?” she asked first. I told her that something just didn’t feel right; it wasn’t like when I had spotting before. She did a complete exam and used the Doppler to try to find the baby’s heart beat. She tried and tried. She then spent the next thirty minutes explaining to us the possibilities of what was going on. She explained that I needed to go to the emergency room, since this was a Saturday and there was no doctor office open to refer me for a consultation and ultrasound. She went on to go over everything that may be found in an ultrasound, from the baby being just fine and healthy to fetal demise. She then explained all our choices, good or bad.

   In the emergency room we were seen pretty quickly. We were taken back to a room, assessed by a nurse, and waited for the doctor. Another nurse came in and asked what doctor I was using so he could be called. James said, “She is seeing a midwife as she did with our two boys.” Her whole tone changed and she began to talk down to me, treating me like a child, after scolding me she began saying I would need all these tests and they would have to check me for sexually transmitted diseases. James stood up and asked her name, her full name, and how long she had been a nurse. He wrote it all down on the papers we had to sign when we first arrived. He then very calmly said that he wanted a different nurse, that he brought me in to rule out a miscarriage and he would not tolerate his wife being treated badly because of our choice in health care professionals. He stated that we had been happily married since we graduated from high school and that I did not need to be tested for sexually transmitted diseases with out a valid reason. She left the room, rolling her eyes.

   About two hours later another nurse came in with a doctor. This nurse was an older woman and was very kind. We had to go over why we were here once again. James shook her hand and simply stated we are here for an ultrasound to determine the status of our baby. He went on to say that all my prenatal lab work and prenatal check-ups were up to date and he would call the midwife to have them faxed if necessary. The nurse took a little more information that the previous nurse had not gotten to yet. Then trying to make general conversation she asked, “So, why have you chosen to go with a midwife?”

 I gathered my strength. Any other time I would have no problem going into great detail of why I would never choose to walk into a hospital to have a baby, but I could only focus on how this baby was doing, if he or she was still alive. “I just don’t care to deal with all the unnecessary things that are done to a laboring mom in a hospital. I just simply want to have my baby and I want the same person that has cared for me the entire pregnancy to be there.” I could go on and on. I could tell her about how ridiculous it is for a mom in labor to be put in a bed on her back, or how I would like my husband to hold me and support me, or how I don’t care to be prepped for a c-section the whole time I am in labor by putting in an IV and keeping me from eating or drinking anything or how stupid it is to push my baby out in stirrups. But I kept thinking about why we were here and my baby inside me, I couldn’t get out any more. “Well,” she said, “what if you need a c-section? Then what would you do at home? Not wanting to get into a debate with this woman, James asked her, “What are the main reasons for a c-section to be done?” She stood up and held her clip board in a very authorative manner ready to give us a full sermon. “ Fetal distress is the number one reason for an emergency c-section, how would you determine that at home?” In a calm voice James told her how our midwife frequently checks the baby’s heart beat and all other vital signs that are usually done in a labor room, and how she stays with us continuously monitoring my well being. He went on to state that the main reasons for fetal distress in a hospital are the mother being on her back with the baby sitting on his own oxygen supply, and how keeping a mom from important nutrition wears her body down. He continued down the list of all the things that are totally unfounded by science that are being forced on laboring women in hospitals during a very vulnerable time in their life.

When I finally found the strength to look up the nurse was actually shaking her head ‘YES.’ She gave me a hug and said the ultrasound tech would be here soon. I felt a little more at ease.

The ultrasound tech was very distant. She did a quick scan over my belly to get a quick look, then slowed down and took pictures. “How is the baby?” James asked, after what seemed to be an eternity. “I’m not allowed to give any details, just a report to the doctor.” She said very straight faced. James walked around the exam table and looked at the screen. He looked on for several minutes watching her put in labels and print pictures. As he stood there tears welled up in his eyes.

After many moments of silence she finally left the room. “I didn’t see any movement or any heartbeat.” James said, very softly choking out the words. We called our midwife, Darlene, from our cell phone and told her what we knew so far. She once again went over our choices and suggested we go over them again when the doctor comes in to see us. She always says it’s important to be well informed to make an ‘informed decision.’

We were moved back to the same room we came from. After about thirty minutes the doctor came in. “I’m going to admit you and schedule a D & C for in the morning.” He said with out even looking up from the papers he was holding. “WHAT?” James and I asked at the same time, in total disbelief. We knew there was a pretty good possibility that our baby had died, but to tell us in that manner and not go over our choices; we were both numb.  “Your baby is dead, and must come out before infection sets in, so we’ll just take care of that in the morning, you two don’t have to worry about a thing.” The doctor said as he was walking back out of the room. After he left James stood in front of the door as if to protect me as we searched for the words to say to each other. “Whatever you want to do I’ll stand beside you.” He offered, trying to choke back tears. “I can’t believe that man just came in here, stated he is going to surgically remove my baby and not even go over our choices or even look at me.” I finally said, very angry. “There is no way I am staying here!”

We sat and discussed our options. After about twenty minutes the nurse came back in. We told her how upset we were with how that doctor had just spoken to us and how he didn’t even take the time to go over our options. That was our option if we stayed, there was no other choice, she explained how it would be handled in the hospital. We called the doctor back in and told him we were going to go home and think about it, if we decided to have a D & C then we would call him and come back in. We got the discharge papers stating all our risks from infection to hemoraging and we left.

On the way home I called my midwife and let her know our baby had died and what we had decided. I told her we were just going to let the baby come naturally and we would call her again for any special instruction once we got home.

     We picked up the boys and once we got home we discussed what had happened that night. We all cried and talked about what we would miss now that the baby has gone to heaven.  We shared some hot cocoa and cookies and talked until we could no longer hold our eyes open.

     It was about two weeks later that I started cramping and spotting again. I knew this was the labor I had been waiting for. I called my midwife and let her know, then called James to come home. I had cramping for about two hours when I really wanted Darlene to be here. Even though I had no idea how long this would take I wanted her to be here early, if for nothing else, for the comfort she gives me. She came in quietly and hugged me and asked how I was doing. She did a complete exam all except for listening for a fetal heart beat. I really didn’t think the little things like that that would be so noticeable. Even though my complete exam was just like any other, not getting out the Doppler and squirting gel over my tummy really hit me hard. I started to cry. I told her and James how hard it was to not listen to a heart beat during this labor. We sat and cried together. Than she reached into her exam bag and pulled out a gift box and handed it to me. I slowly opened it. Inside were carefully selected items for labor support plus a few extras. There were warm wool socks, red raspberry tea, lip balm, and a small box of chocolates among the other items.  She then got up to walk to the door. “Where are you going?” I asked. “Into the living room to leave you two alone, you need to lean on each other now.” She said softly.

     After she closed the door it hit me, this would be the last day I can hold onto my baby. After today this is it, I will not be pregnant anymore and I won’t have a baby to sleep beside me tonight either. We sat and talked to each other about how we felt and our plans for the future. We also discussed giving this baby a name. We didn’t know if it was a boy or girl. We didn’t even know if that would be able to determined after the baby was out.

     One and a half more hours of cramping contractions I could feel pressure on my bladder, not like I had to go to the bathroom but an uneasy pressure. I called Darlene back in for another exam. She noticed I was very tense and tightly holding my legs together and asked why I was tensing my lower body like this. At that  moment I realized I had just been holding my baby in, knowing she was right there. I relaxed a little while she got things ready and made sure James and I were comfortable. “You can give a gentle push when you are ready.” She said very softly. I was not ready. I didn’t think I would ever be ready. But with tears streaming down my face, I gave a little push. The baby came out all at once, it felt so tiny, but I held my eyes closed afraid to open them. When I finally found the strength to open them, I saw how carefully Darlene was holding our baby in a small towel. “Do you want to see your baby yet? And do you want to know if it’s a boy or girl?” She asked always speaking softly. “Yes, yes!” We both said. “Your baby is a girl, about sixteen weeks gestation. Perfectly formed.” She offered. “There is no obvious reason for her death. You may send her to the lab if you would like to determine the cause of death, just as we discussed.” We both shook our head no, and held the baby just looking at her, trying to memorize each and every curve. Darlene checked me over very carefully making sure the placenta was whole and no parts were missing.

     She then asked if we wanted some time alone with our daughter. We sat together for about thirty minutes confirming decisions we had already made over the last couple of weeks. Then we gave our baby a name. Roxanne, because she was born at sunrise.

    We gave our baby a very private burial in a location where only family and a few close friends were in attendance. Our home now displays a shadow box of several items we had chosen for our baby before we lost her. It includes handmade booties, a rattle, a bib and an ultrasound picture. We also have a keepsake certificate of her birth complete with the tiniest feet print I’ve ever seen. We did take a few pictures of our daughter but didn’t get them developed for over a year, when we were ready.

     Two years later we welcomed another daughter full term and perfect. We have thankfully had the same midwife, our Darlene, with the birth of all four of our children. She truly knew the joy of this pregnancy making it to full term and made it extra special for us. This daughter, our second daughter we named Beatrice, because she truly is the “bringer of joy.”

By TMG

Madeleine's Story

Darlene was everything I wanted in a midwife. I interviewed several before I found her. I had never had such a wonderful health care provider. Every check up she answered every question that Michael and I had. She provided us many resources for natural products and information on topics such as circumcision, vaccination, and homeschooling. We felt very well taken care of. She was there for us from the very beginning of pregnancy all the way though to breastfeeding troubleshooting.
January 15, 2006

The contractions started at about four or five in the morning. I got out of bed and started pacing out apartment. They continued. I drank a large glass of water, and laid down. They continued. So at around six I called Darlene and told her I thought that I was beginning to go into labor. She told me to try to rest and call her every hour to keep her updated. At about nine she arrived at my apartment and when she checked me I was 4 centimeters dilated. We walked around outside, ate, and tried different positions to see what was comfortable and helped labor progress. At around three the contractions started to get stronger. During the strongest one I had had yet my water broke. It felt like something had popped in my lower back. I was in the middle of the contraction and couldn't say anything but “water”. So I got handed a glass of water. We all laughed and then I changed into a large over sized tee shirt. . Throughout my labor Darlene checked my blood pressure and the baby's heart tones. I really appreciated this because it gave me assurance that everything was going along smoothly. I had my birthing tub set up. I got in at around 7 centimeters. At this point everything got very hazy and intense at the same time. I felt almost outside of my body, but at the same time more in tune than I had ever been before. People took turns putting pressure on my lower back and helping me make deep throaty moans to help with the intensity of active labor. At nine centimeters I got out of the tub to so she could check me. Darlene applied Evening Primrose Oil to my cervix and then I was at a complete ten. The pushing felt good. I remember her getting topical anesthetic out to give me a shot in case I torn, and the sight of the needle made me very determined to get the baby out without tearing. Madeleine shot out at 5:30 like a football. No tearing. Michael my husband caught her. She was 7 lbs. And 2 oz and 21 inches long. I was so amazed all I could think or say was, “Wow, there was really a baby in there.” Shortly after that I delivered the placenta and got cleaned up and in bed. Madeleine started nursing like a pro. I don't think that I slept all that night. I just couldn't take my eyes off her. She was amazing

-Madeleine's Mom

 
Darlene Nesloney, Licensed Midwife
Member of Association of Texas Midwives Board of Directors
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“It's not just the making of babies, but the making of mothers that midwives see as the miracle of birth.” ~Barbara Katz Rothman~"