Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Holy Ghost - Doula Extraordinaire

As the arrival of mon pignon mignon (my cute little sprocket) draws near, my thoughts naturally turn to the process by which this advent will take place. Admittedly, labor and birth are intimidating ideas, but I have confidence in my body. My hope is that, with minimal interventions, I will be able to tap into my body's natural inclinations and have a smooth delivery and quick recovery.

One thing has become clear as I have prepared for this time: a wholly natural birth is not easily achieved in a hospital setting. I had felt in the beginning that going into L&D would be a bit like going to war, ha. I know several people who maintain this militaristic outlook. They are filled with suspicion and are constantly guarded against their enemy, the administrants of "routine care."* 
   
Over time I mellowed. I learned that my choice in provider was a wise one, that there was no other OB in the area more suited to my needs, more in tune with my desires. I learned that the episiotomy rate is no longer 90%, that 'rooming in' is encouraged, that my hospital is pro-breastfeeding, and that even if my baby was anticipated to weigh over 10 lbs., I would still be encouraged to forego elective surgery and strive for the natural delivery that I desired. I anticipated that as I entered the birth center with my crisp white plan in hand, I would likely have to frequently say "no" to various procedures and offerings of medication, but that overall it would be a tolerable experience. Looking back, I think it would be difficult to relax and let labor progress as it should if I were mentally "girded for war" the entire time.

Last week I met with the attending nurse-midwife in my OB's office. I think she felt a sort of kinship with me, and desired that I be successful in obtaining my goal of a natural birth. She was impressed by my preparation, but felt there was still more work for me to do. She indicated that walking in with a birth plan and a resolution to refuse pain medication was not going to be enough, and if I really wanted to make this happen the way I hoped it would, my best bet would be to hire a doula (and read Ina May's Guide to Childbirth, which I did, and am quite thankful that I did).

Truly, I agreed. There is no denying that cesarean section rates are lower when a doula is in attendance. However, it simply comes down to finances. It is a cost-prohibitive luxury that I will have to forego. As an alternative, she suggested I arrange for a private class with a local childbirth educator/doula acquaintance of hers. This option was within our budget, thanks to some emergency "baby money" I had set aside. The doula came to our home, and it was a very good experience. I do feel more prepared now to navigate the hospital system and to get out of the experience what I most desire.

That evening, while reading my scriptures, it occurred to me that I had access to the most knowledgeable, greatest support entity in the entire universe: my Heavenly Father. I knew that my desire for a natural birth was a righteous one, and that if I asked for help, if it be His will, it would be granted (3 Nephi 18:20). We learn in Alma 34:17-27 that we should pray for both spiritual and temporal things, and I'm pretty sure childbirth falls within those parameters. So with that, I resolved that the Holy Ghost would be my doula.

Not only do I see this as a sound financial decision in order to live within our means, ha, but also the humility of our circumstances has led me to an option that will bring me closer to Heavenly Father, to incorporate His presence more into this most sacred occasion. I am confident that with the goal of having the Holy Ghost as my guide, there is little danger of contention with hospital staff causing progress-impeding distraction, and I will be prepared to make wise decisions on behalf of my child and myself.      

O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever. I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that putteth his trust in the arm of flesh. Yea, cursed is he that putteth his trust in man or maketh flesh his arm. 2 Nephi 4:34
*I learned of the term "routine care" and all of its heavy negative connotations from the attending nurse-midwife in my OB's office. However, I do not wish to imply that I consider her to be among the ranks mentioned above. I simply thought that it accurately described the adversary of my more militant acquaintances.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Genesis

Let's get some things straight right from the beginning:

This may be public, but that doesn't mean I'm writing with the needs of an audience in mind. I have no aim to please, no delusions of creating anything that could be mistaken for 'entertaining', 'engrossing', 'informative', 'amusing', or 'well-written', for that matter. You're going to find some snippets from my simple little life, and maybe some pictures once in awhile. But no promises on the pictures. And while we're talking about intentions and promises, there aren't any concerning the frequency of updates, either. What it comes down to is this: I already know that the most interested reader of this blog is my own self. I'm letting you in on that little tidbit right from the get-go to confront the inevitable disappointment now, instead of later. It might save you some time.

Alright. Now that we've got that out of the way, carry on... and don't make me say "I told you so".

      They're not reading my blog.