Traumatic births

GUERILLA MOTHERING: Mama’s baby drama doesn’t have to cause traumaBy LESLEA HARMONLocal Columnist
The Wall Street Journal recently ran an article about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in new mothers. Evidently, traumatic hospital births with a lot of medical interventions are leaving moms severely emotionally scarred. Imagine that! Someone comes into your hospital room, you’re already half-naked, scared, and in pain, and tells you that the baby you’ve carried and dreamed of for so long might die if they don’t do a certain procedure right away-and even then, no guarantees you’re going home with your little one. Yeah, I’d call that a little traumatic.I’ve not written much about it in this column, but I am one fortunate woman when it comes to birth experience. My first child was one of your stock “high intervention” births, with most of the trimmings. Thank God for Dr. Kegel and his famous pelvic floor exercises, or my son would have been delivered by C-section, I’m quite sure. As it happened, he was born out of my numbed-to-the-point-of-paralysis body after a long night of drugs, having my water broken, and lying around practically tied to a hospital bed, as nervous as though a firing squad was waiting for me on the other side of labor. The very moment he was born, I held my arms out for him, desperate to hold him — but the Dr. took him away immediately to be examined on the other side of the room. I still tear up, just thinking about it, seven years and two additional births later. Is that a sign of trauma? I don’t know. Of all the people to espouse opinions on birth trauma, it’s funny that I don’t feel more confident to speak on this one. In my mid-20s, I was diagnosed with PTSD, myself, following a series of incidents that were outside my control. I received treatment and eventually found healing after years of work and devotion. It was a long time before I forgot I’d ever had PTSD, but eventually that day came, and I realized I’d made it through the woods. Thank God.Sometimes, though, I’m reminded of what it was like — mostly, when I hear about someone else’s suffering. There was that sweet soldier, Joseph Dwyer, whose photo so famously ran in media across the world as the very face of American compassion in Iraq — following his suicide, stories of his PTSD were ubiquitous. Prior to that, a student in my journaling class spoke up to mention he counsels soldiers returning from combat, often suicidal and suffering from PTSD. Stuff like that reminds me I once had PTSD. I remember, but move on.When it comes to birth, I don’t think I was traumatized-not severely. Sure, it was once heartbreaking, and true to the checklist of PSTD characteristics, I felt an overwhelming desire to avoid going back to the hospital (or the doctor’s office), but, really — I’ve had it much worse. Like so many moms, I was just glad to go home with a reasonably healthy baby! He gave me plenty to focus on, and I was way too in love with him to give much thought to my own mental health.While pregnant the second time, I stumbled into some books on birth, including “Birthing From Within,” by Pam England. That book dealt with traumatized mothers, and if you or someone you know might be in need of some help dealing with lingering birth trauma, I highly recommend it. What it did for me, as a disappointed (but eager to try again) birther was empower me to make decisions about my birth. I chose to go natural the second time. I hired a doula. I limply attempted to do breathing training. I succeeded in having a natural birth in the hospital-but my second son was born “sunny side up,” which meant his face was pointing up instead of down when he bulldozed his way into the world. It hurt. A lot. Still, with my loving doula Kim at my side, I came through it in victory. I did hold my baby on my chest, he was completely healthy, and even though having him that way was the hardest thing I have ever done physically, I really did it my way. Looking back on that, the worst I can ascribe to the hospital or its staff was a petty series of annoyances. No trauma, no drama, just get out of the way of this mama!Considering the confusion of my first birth, and the pain of my second, I chose to try homebirth the third time. I spent the entire nine months (seriously), planning for it, and my training paid off. I journaled about the upcoming birth nearly every day. I lined up my supportive friends. I had a caring midwife, as well as an OB/GYN (not as caring, but he was around), and my doula was back. My husband and I went to Bradley classes, and we invested in a library of resources on homebirth. Little by little, I accepted that we human beings really have been giving birth at home, naturally, for thousands of years. Lo and behold, my body managed a very easy birth with the support of loving friends and attendants. It hurt, but not for long, and I never even had to push. Contractions just carried my third child out of me, like a wave crashing into the beach. There he was. Healthy, serene, perfect. There is a photo of me, smiling, holding him in my arms, immediately after he was born. I had finally outrun those birth demons, and what a prize. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever done, and it truly changed my life. I went on to change careers, write a book, visit a monastery for a week, play roller derby — all kinds of things that I still think are not as cool as having a homebirth, but I would perhaps not have had the confidence to do, had I not named and claimed the birth of my third miracle child. That is the total opposite of trauma, without a doubt.I know I was fortunate. I had a healthy child, I was a healthy mom, and there were no complications. I had great (double) pre-natal care, and all was well. But, honestly, I can’t help but wonder-what if all births were approached this way? What if all births were prepared for as if they would be healthy and natural, not riddled with fear and pain? What if television shows involving the “birth in the taxi cab” plotline didn’t climax for once with a panting woman screeching through perfect makeup about how much pain she was in? What if all the reality shows based out of hospital rooms were outlawed, outright? What if we just looked at birth, as a culture and as a society, for the true joy it is and not just for the addition of a new baby, but for the accomplishment that a woman’s body is able to do? That might just be outright empowering for moms, instead of traumatizing. Imagine.I’m grateful for health care professionals and the training they complete in order to save lives and prevent tragedies-but if the intervention is causing PTSD in moms, perhaps it’s time to back off a little, and take a different tact. There’s more to birth than fear, blood and guts. Let’s stop scaring moms, and start giving them the tools they need to go into birth with confidence-no matter where they choose to birth. There has to be a better way.To learn more about PTSD, visit the National Center for PostTraumatic Stress Disorder online at ncptsd.va.gov/ncmain/index.jsp (geared toward veterans), or talk to your health care provider.Leslea M. Harmon is a freelance writer, wife, and mother, in New Albany, IN. She can be reached at Leslea.Harmon@gmail.com, or online at lmharmon.com