My Pregnancy and Homebirth Story- Part 1

My pregnancy progressed normally and aside from my first trimester which was full blown morning sickness, it was complete bliss. I felt strong, optimistic and blessed although I was fearful each time I used the bathroom that I would see blood and it would all be over. As twenty weeks approached, I gained confidence that nothing was stopping this baby from joining us earthside and that it would be a beautiful mind and body altering experience for me.

Preconception, I was preparing myself researching and reading anything I could get my hands on about birth- and I had almost two years of research under my belt. After all this extensive research, I found myself questioning everything I had once imagined birth to be. I once thought I would certainly be giving birth in a hospital attended to by doctors and nurses just like everyone else, a normal birth. What I came to realize is that this was not the picture of birth that I wanted, nor was it statistically the safest way to birth for a woman with a healthy pregnancy and baby. At this point I decided that I would like to plan for a home birth. The first mistake I made was sharing this decision with everyone else, but I was so super charged by the information I had read I felt like shouting it from the rooftops. When my choice wasn’t being met with outright skepticism or a birth terror story, the jury was out that almost all my friends and family thought I was making a huge mistake, mainly because it wasn’t how they did it. Unfortunately, I allowed the negativity and judgment I faced to impact me negatively. Regardless, I was moving forward with this vision, and it was coming closer to realization with every milestone.

My 36 week ultrasound went beautifully, the baby was head down and facing my posterior, a perfect birthing position, I expected no less seeing as my pregnancy had been so uneventful and I was doing all the preparation physically to optimize babies’ position. Weeks 37 and 38, came and my midwife appointments went beautifully, we even picked up our tub to get it ready for the big day. Week 39 came, I was feeling under the weather, a slight fever and head cold had me skip my appointment and finally, I arrived at my 40-week appointment.

I was still feeling slightly sick with the remnants of my cold but my 40 week appointment left me with a sicker feeling in my belly when the midwives told me they thought I should schedule another ultrasound to just recheck the position of the baby, they heard his heart rate under my ribs this time and not in my pelvic area. I scheduled a follow up scan for 41 weeks and at that appointment I found out the baby had turned breech, my heart broke, I was told I needed a c-section that night.

As I sobbed uncontrollably in the OBGYN office, realizing the exact opposite of what I had envisioned was about to go down, I was made to feel like me and my baby were in dire danger if they did not get him out that night. I was told to go home, pack my bags and they would be waiting for us at the hospital – so that’s what I did. We arrived at the hospital about 3 hours after my scan and I was admitted. During the admission I was told what was going to happen and a repeat ultrasound was performed, the attending physician commented on how wonderfully healthy my amniotic fluid looked and that they normally don’t see such a healthy fluid or fluid volume at 41 weeks – I had been meticulous with my health during the pregnancy to try and avoid this hospital situation, so the comment felt like salt in the wound rather then a complement. He told me they would be getting me prepped for surgery soon, they just needed to test me for covid, I was confident I would be negative because I wasn’t feeling sick– and the test came back positive – that’s when everything changed.

 What was once an emergency c-section turned into something very confusing as I was sent home that night. I was told they didn’t have the staff to handle my case and that they would call me when they did – at an indiscriminate time within the next week. At the time I was so preoccupied with the stress and confusion of the situation my mind was frozen, if I could go back, I would have immediately searched to find the information and contact of a doctor who was competent in Breech deliveries (I was the perfect candidate). Alas, what happened is history and I like to think, for my own sanity, that it happened for some benevolent reason. It would be almost two full days before I heard any word from the hospital and in the meantime, I was trying everything I could to get that baby to flip again.