She always kept a gun in her purse. It's not unusual at all that a midwife would have a concealed weapon permit. Many do.
Penny kept one in her purse, and a few in random spots elsewhere. I'd visited her home on many occasions and would see gun and ammo in a pile on the big fluffy down comforter of her bed or one out on the dining room table. She never locked her front door and she never had a problem with robbery or intruders.
Penny encouraged me to buy a gun and learn to shoot. She used a local shooting range to stay in good practice. Penny reminded me time and time again that midwives are out alone in unfamiliar and sometimes dangerous locals so it's important to feel safe. She laughed when she shared the story about never getting to use her weapon.
She told me about the time she and an assistant, years ago, Daddy was on the cell phone with Penny telling them that mama was feeling the urge to push. They guided daddy through a very easy delivery of a beautiful baby girl. As they neared the home, they decided to go in first to let the parents know they'd arrived, make sure baby and mama were fine and just access.
They parked on the street right in front of the house. Of course they felt safe, broad daylight and children riding bikes and playing tag on here and there.
Just about 5 minutes after they'd entered the home, they went back out to collect postparum supplies and paperwork. The car doors were all open and they were only thankful they'd taken their purses in with them because there wasn't so much as an O2 tank left in the car.
Thieves had made off with every bit of possessions in the car from the birth bags to the chux to the stainless steel water mug Penny carried everywhere she went. They both stood eyes and mouths hanging wide open like the doors of the car.
Both ladies didn't know whether to scream, laugh or cry. They called out to the children on the street and to the old people sitting on the front porch two doors down. Nobody had seen a thing. Or at least, nobody cared to share what they'd seen.
A midwife's bag is full of items to make a homebirth more comfortable. She carries hundreds of pounds of equipment from home to home. She gathers items carefully over years and years of time. Some things from midwifery conferences, some from mail order. Many items are handed down from elder midwives. The cost wasn't as bad as the feeling of being violated. She said she felt like she could use a gun on that day. Now, years later, she actually laughs re-telling the story. She said, It was like a bad "Starsky and Hutch" episode or "Gone in 60 Seconds" type thing. How on earth they did what they did in such a short amount of time? She giggled with glee when she said that she sure hoped they enjoyed the effects of shooting up that Methergin.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Stranger in the Night
He called me on two different occasions. The first time to ask about childbirth education classes. Could I provide private sessions for he and his wife? Of course I could. I prefer them. I thought it strange that it was him, not her but maybe she was busy? It's almost always the woman who calls to set up classes. He said they already had two year old son, Oscar. From the background noise, I could tell. Oscar ran the household.
He shared they had a traumatic birth experience with Oscar who was born in a military hospital and on top of that, Oscar was born with a rare genetic disorder. He wasn't expected to live past the age of about six or seven. It was stated in a matter of fact way. Like he'd told the story so many times, it felt normal to him to share that his child would die.
He said that he felt his wife had been treated rudely and abruptly in the hospital during labor and delivery. He was so upset with the previous experience that he and his wife had gone without any prenatal care at all. She was already 30 weeks along in her pregnancy.
This time, he said, "we plan to use a midwife at home". He said he thought he would get more respect from a midwife in his own home. Did I know of one? I gave him the phone number of my mentor/preceptor. I knew she would be perfect. She had a kind heart and gentle way for those families who have pain in their souls. I let the midwife "Penny", know to expect a call and the back story. I sent him a class registration by mail. He would get the ball rolling right away.
A full month's time passed before the second call. By then, I'd assumed he chose a different midwife or gone on back to the OB who delivered their first baby. This time he was calling to say that he planned to send a check to pay for classes for he and his wife and that, at that time, he'd also pay for the midwifery services. I asked him if he'd made an appointment to meet the midwife yet? (I knew he had not) He said he'd been out of town. I wondered why she hadn't called to make an appointment and I asked. He told me his wife didn't like to speak on the phone. She was 34 weeks along now.
Big red flags started waving in my head. Was there really a wife? If there was, was she ok? Was he an abusive husband controlling her every move and word? I tried to think fast and find the best way to handle the questions. I told him I'd be happy to accept his check for classes and would do so when he came in for an appointment for prenatal care at the Birth House where I worked with the midwife. I let him know the midwife and I were looking forward to meeting them both.We set an appointment.
The next day Mike and Julie and their son Oscar arrived at The Birth House. They sat in the office for the typical usual interview and chart intake. Mike seemed nice enough. He told us that he worked long hours and was often out of town for weeks at a time. Julie didn't drive and had no friends. He had arranged to be off work for two weeks to help Julie, postpartum. His parents would arrive and help after that.
Julie was different. Something I had never seen in the midwifery clinic or even in a class. She sat with long stringy hair, eyes lowered to the floor and never spoke above a whisper. That is, when she spoke at all. Mike answered almost every question. Penny and I kept looking directly at Julie with questions, hoping to draw her out.
Two year old Oscar, crawled all over his mother but they never made eye contact. With Julie sitting beside him, Mike shared that Julie was actually much better than she "used to be". When he met her, she was homeless. She spoke even less. She had apparently been raised in a violent abusive home until she ran away to live on the streets at the age of 12. They had been married when she was 18 and she gave birth to Oscar that same year. Now she was 20 and expecting baby number two very soon.
The family story, but mostly this damaged young woman, touched the heart of Penny. She'd been in the birth community long enough to know that Julie probably had been labeled from the beginning of her prenatal care with Oscar as a throw away. We could both tell how much that must have hurt she and Mike. Penny wanted to make a difference in Julie's life. We worried how she might be in labor. Abused women often flash back during the stresses of contraction. They often have trouble pushing or they push their babies out as fast and hard as possible. This can cause a lot of trauma to the mother's body.
As our first meeting and prenatal intake came to a close, Penny brought up the matter of her fees. Mike told her how sorry he was that he didn't have the full amount. He and the family were living in a half built house and had used all their money to try to make it livable. They did not even have a bathtub until just a week ago. Julie had been using the kitchen sink to sponge bathe herself and Oscar. He asked the midwife, would she accept $500 and he'd pay the rest when his tax return arrived? Of course, Penny agreed. I worked with Penny for 5 years and never saw her turn someone away for inability to pay. She had gone through times in her life when she had to do without. She knew how hard it was. Now she was comfortable enough and quite able to help others.
We saw the family two more times for prenatal appointments before that strange middle of the night call.
Penny answered the phone with her usual professional tone. A panic-ridden Mike speaking rapidly, explained that Julie was in labor and needed the birth team right away! Julie wasn't full term yet. She was only 36 weeks along. Penny attempted to ask the questions we like to have answered. How long has she been contracting? How long are the contractions lasting? How often are they coming? Mike refused to answer. He would only say, "I don't know. I don't know" He repeated, "I need you now!" and promptly hung up.
Penny called me. She wasn't happy about this situation. Here we had a mama who we had only seen three times and this mama was technically a week from being full term. 37 weeks is considered safe but 36 weeks? Too many "what-ifs". She shared what he'd said on the phone and we both hurried to get up and dressed to meet up and head out into the dark night. It was a bit past midnight. The drive was 30 minutes. We went over scenarios as we drove. Neonatal resuscitation, IV set-ups, suction, oxygen. Team work. You do this, I'll do that.
We found the house easily. It's usually easy when the births occur in the middle of the night. The house will be the only one on the sleepy dark street which is burning every light in the house and often a worried partner peeking through the blinds at every car sound.. hoping for a midwife sighting. Sometimes they'll even run out to the car to physically pull the midwifery team in.
We knock softly, try the door and find it unlocked. Two year old Oscar was leaping from sofa to chair to coffee table. He felt the energy in the air and knew he wanted to be up and ready for the party. Mike was at the sink doing dishes. We found Julie soaking in that brand new bathtub. She was curled up on her side with one arm covering her breasts and the other arm between her legs. She was clearly mortified to be naked in front of us.
We asked how she was feeling as we gathered some hand towels to lay across her chest and bottom She gave half smile with a mumble of "okay". She sure didn't appear to be in any sort of labor. No sign of a contraction or discomfort of any kind. I pressed the fetal doppler to her lower abdomen and found baby's heart rate to be strong and regular. Oscar slammed into the room and pushed in between his mother and the midwife for attention. We asked about his bedtime, hopeful, as he jumped up and down and made all manner of wild monkey sounds. Oscar wasn't verbal with words but seemed smart enough to get his point across in lots of other ways.
Mike and Julie let us know that Oscar didn't have a bedtime. He was so precious to them, his time so short here on earth, they didn't feel they wanted him to feel separated.
The brand new tub that Mike had just put into the bathroom had jets and they weren't working properly so with the birth team available to help Julie, he took off for the basement area of the house to see if he could work the pipes in a different way in order to allow the jets to give Julie some added comfort. Julie said in a very small scared voice, that she just wanted to be alone.
Penny and I decided to sit in the front room to give Julie some privacy. Oscar followed us in. At some point in the evening before we arrived, pizza had been delivered. It was on the coffee table. Cold, a few pieces missing with the cardboard grease-stained box open. Oscar was taking a bite of each piece as he jumped up and down on a living room chair. He'd have a taste and a lick and then fling it back into the box. His baby fingers and little cheeks covered in sauce. We did our best to coral him and wipe him down every few minutes. He'd go right back to the box. We finally gave up rather than have him scream and upset Julie. At some point, Oscar turned his attention to the television and Netflix. He was a pint sized technical operator and finding things to watch. We hoped it would keep him occupied and maybe he'd sleep. it was nearly 2a.m.
We took this time to set up our equipment in the birthing room and covered the bed with protective pads Julie had asked (through Mike) when we first arrived, that Penny not do a cervical check. We had no way of knowing just how far along Julie was in her labor other than to watch for contractions which we could not see her having any at first.. As we hung out in the bedroom just off the bathroom, we could see Julie through the bedroom mirror reflection. She was still in a tight ball in the tub but seemed to be breathing more deeply and rhythmically. She was letting out very tiny sad whimpers with each one of these breath changes. We couldn't stand to see her suffer and alone even though she did say she wanted to have privacy.
I found a large 7-11 plastic soda cup and very quietly tiptoed into the bathroom. I gently poured water over her abdomen as she rested. She flipped over a bit with her next contraction and whimpered a bit louder. I asked if she wanted me to stop. She said in a voice louder than we'd heard so far, "NO! Keep doing that!"
BANG! Slam! The door hit the midwife in the hip. Oscar had not fallen asleep. He realized he was alone in the living room and he wasn't having any of that! He wiggled his way in past the oxygen tank and midwifery supply bags. He was standing at the bathroom door, screaming and motioning he wanted in the tub. Mike heard the commotion and came upstairs to help. Mike undressed Oscar and let him in the water with mama as she labored. Oscar wanted to play with the cup I was using to pour water onto his mama and of course if Oscar wanted something it was granted. He wanted to be the one to pour water on mama. He got water on the birth team, mamas head, the floor.. we decided to get Julie out of the tub (for comfort and protection at this point). Her rhythm had been broken and her contractions were now coming hard. She readily agreed side-lying on the bed might help with her sacral pain. We suspected with "back labor" she could be in for a long haul. Baby was clearly posterior.
By now it was past 3a.m. with no sign of Oscar getting sleepy. he bounced on the bed and stepped all over his mama. We asked if he'd had a nap late and Mike told us that he often stayed up all night with mama watching television and playing. Penny and I looked at each other. I know we both thought, "Oh, great."
Oscar didn't understand his mama's labor noises and this was upsetting him. So, Mike decided to take the little guy for a ride. He said that sometimes Oscar would fall asleep in the car during rides and he wanted to give that a try. We later found out Mike hadn't had a cigarette in hours and was ready to snap so he was eager to get out for that as well.
With Mike and Oscar out of the house, Julie labored on with each contraction coming a bit closer together and stronger. She went through transition with quiet dignity, never really crying out. We gave her sips of water and held space for her as she did the thing that all laboring mothers do when they birth without medication. She gently slid from the here and now, to a sort of altered state of consciousness. Some mothers call it "Labor-land" and some call it, "The birth zone".
Julie was nearing the end of her labor and coming to a point where she would be pushing her baby out into the world. There's often a quiet sort of restful time at the end of labor just before a mother pushes. Contractions will stop for 15 or 20 minutes. Sometimes more. Julie was in this time. She smiled, made eye contact and even giggled at some of the midwife's jokes about Oscar wanting to scuba dive in the birth tub. It's a beautiful thing to see what the hormone Oxytocin does for women. Inhibitions exit and peaceful joy takes over. You can almost feel it in the air. Oxytocin is called, "The love hormone" with good reason. It had a beautiful effect on Julie.
At about 3:45 we heard soft tip toe walking of a mans big shoes. Mike was back and he had a limp, one arm flung sideways, sleeping, Oscar! Everybody smiled. Quietly!
Mike tucked Oscar in bed down in a back room and closed the door behind him. Julie looked at Mike and said, "I have to puuuuuuuuuush!" Julie was on the bed semi-sitting with pillows behind her and Mike snuggled in behind to give her more back support. This wasn't Julies first baby so we expected the pushing phase would not be a long one. We expected right. With just three pushes, Julie had already pushed the head of her baby all the way out. With the next push came the anterior shoulder, I was already gloved and helped to support the baby as the posterior shoulder passed over her perineum. I told Julie to reach down and take her baby.
Julie reached down and pulled her baby to her chest. The baby was as we suspected, a bit early and on the small side. She was covered with a thick coat of vernix but pink and breathing well. She had some great reflexes and a strong heart rate. She seemed to be looking all around at her new surroundings. Julie held the wrinkled new baby close and cried and cried and cried. Her cry seemed different than that of typical mothers. Her cry was more of a woman grieving. I wondered if she was remembering the birth of Oscar or was she remembering being traumatized as a child. We couldn't be sure. She wasn't able to share with us on that level.
The midwife asked Mike if the baby was a boy or a girl. Nobody had looked. Penny never announces the gender of the baby. For those parents who choose not to use ultrasound in pregnancy, she lets them discover what they have all on their own. Mike looked between the baby's legs and said, "Julie! You had a girl!" . She was just 5 pounds and 18 inches long but she found the breast and latched on right away with determination. She was already a fighter, she would probably have to be once Oscar found out she was staying. Mike and Julie named the baby, Heather Joy. It was Springtime and we loved that the name was so fitting for the time of year.
Mike and Julie never came in for a postpartum visit. They never did come up with the rest of the fee for the midwife. We talk about them now and then. Wonder how they are getting along and if Julie will have another baby. We always smile and hope that the midwifery model of care she received helped her even if it was only in a small way. There would be at least one happy labor and birth story for this mother to share.
He shared they had a traumatic birth experience with Oscar who was born in a military hospital and on top of that, Oscar was born with a rare genetic disorder. He wasn't expected to live past the age of about six or seven. It was stated in a matter of fact way. Like he'd told the story so many times, it felt normal to him to share that his child would die.
He said that he felt his wife had been treated rudely and abruptly in the hospital during labor and delivery. He was so upset with the previous experience that he and his wife had gone without any prenatal care at all. She was already 30 weeks along in her pregnancy.
This time, he said, "we plan to use a midwife at home". He said he thought he would get more respect from a midwife in his own home. Did I know of one? I gave him the phone number of my mentor/preceptor. I knew she would be perfect. She had a kind heart and gentle way for those families who have pain in their souls. I let the midwife "Penny", know to expect a call and the back story. I sent him a class registration by mail. He would get the ball rolling right away.
A full month's time passed before the second call. By then, I'd assumed he chose a different midwife or gone on back to the OB who delivered their first baby. This time he was calling to say that he planned to send a check to pay for classes for he and his wife and that, at that time, he'd also pay for the midwifery services. I asked him if he'd made an appointment to meet the midwife yet? (I knew he had not) He said he'd been out of town. I wondered why she hadn't called to make an appointment and I asked. He told me his wife didn't like to speak on the phone. She was 34 weeks along now.
Big red flags started waving in my head. Was there really a wife? If there was, was she ok? Was he an abusive husband controlling her every move and word? I tried to think fast and find the best way to handle the questions. I told him I'd be happy to accept his check for classes and would do so when he came in for an appointment for prenatal care at the Birth House where I worked with the midwife. I let him know the midwife and I were looking forward to meeting them both.We set an appointment.
The next day Mike and Julie and their son Oscar arrived at The Birth House. They sat in the office for the typical usual interview and chart intake. Mike seemed nice enough. He told us that he worked long hours and was often out of town for weeks at a time. Julie didn't drive and had no friends. He had arranged to be off work for two weeks to help Julie, postpartum. His parents would arrive and help after that.
Julie was different. Something I had never seen in the midwifery clinic or even in a class. She sat with long stringy hair, eyes lowered to the floor and never spoke above a whisper. That is, when she spoke at all. Mike answered almost every question. Penny and I kept looking directly at Julie with questions, hoping to draw her out.
Two year old Oscar, crawled all over his mother but they never made eye contact. With Julie sitting beside him, Mike shared that Julie was actually much better than she "used to be". When he met her, she was homeless. She spoke even less. She had apparently been raised in a violent abusive home until she ran away to live on the streets at the age of 12. They had been married when she was 18 and she gave birth to Oscar that same year. Now she was 20 and expecting baby number two very soon.
The family story, but mostly this damaged young woman, touched the heart of Penny. She'd been in the birth community long enough to know that Julie probably had been labeled from the beginning of her prenatal care with Oscar as a throw away. We could both tell how much that must have hurt she and Mike. Penny wanted to make a difference in Julie's life. We worried how she might be in labor. Abused women often flash back during the stresses of contraction. They often have trouble pushing or they push their babies out as fast and hard as possible. This can cause a lot of trauma to the mother's body.
As our first meeting and prenatal intake came to a close, Penny brought up the matter of her fees. Mike told her how sorry he was that he didn't have the full amount. He and the family were living in a half built house and had used all their money to try to make it livable. They did not even have a bathtub until just a week ago. Julie had been using the kitchen sink to sponge bathe herself and Oscar. He asked the midwife, would she accept $500 and he'd pay the rest when his tax return arrived? Of course, Penny agreed. I worked with Penny for 5 years and never saw her turn someone away for inability to pay. She had gone through times in her life when she had to do without. She knew how hard it was. Now she was comfortable enough and quite able to help others.
We saw the family two more times for prenatal appointments before that strange middle of the night call.
Penny answered the phone with her usual professional tone. A panic-ridden Mike speaking rapidly, explained that Julie was in labor and needed the birth team right away! Julie wasn't full term yet. She was only 36 weeks along. Penny attempted to ask the questions we like to have answered. How long has she been contracting? How long are the contractions lasting? How often are they coming? Mike refused to answer. He would only say, "I don't know. I don't know" He repeated, "I need you now!" and promptly hung up.
Penny called me. She wasn't happy about this situation. Here we had a mama who we had only seen three times and this mama was technically a week from being full term. 37 weeks is considered safe but 36 weeks? Too many "what-ifs". She shared what he'd said on the phone and we both hurried to get up and dressed to meet up and head out into the dark night. It was a bit past midnight. The drive was 30 minutes. We went over scenarios as we drove. Neonatal resuscitation, IV set-ups, suction, oxygen. Team work. You do this, I'll do that.
We found the house easily. It's usually easy when the births occur in the middle of the night. The house will be the only one on the sleepy dark street which is burning every light in the house and often a worried partner peeking through the blinds at every car sound.. hoping for a midwife sighting. Sometimes they'll even run out to the car to physically pull the midwifery team in.
We knock softly, try the door and find it unlocked. Two year old Oscar was leaping from sofa to chair to coffee table. He felt the energy in the air and knew he wanted to be up and ready for the party. Mike was at the sink doing dishes. We found Julie soaking in that brand new bathtub. She was curled up on her side with one arm covering her breasts and the other arm between her legs. She was clearly mortified to be naked in front of us.
We asked how she was feeling as we gathered some hand towels to lay across her chest and bottom She gave half smile with a mumble of "okay". She sure didn't appear to be in any sort of labor. No sign of a contraction or discomfort of any kind. I pressed the fetal doppler to her lower abdomen and found baby's heart rate to be strong and regular. Oscar slammed into the room and pushed in between his mother and the midwife for attention. We asked about his bedtime, hopeful, as he jumped up and down and made all manner of wild monkey sounds. Oscar wasn't verbal with words but seemed smart enough to get his point across in lots of other ways.
Mike and Julie let us know that Oscar didn't have a bedtime. He was so precious to them, his time so short here on earth, they didn't feel they wanted him to feel separated.
The brand new tub that Mike had just put into the bathroom had jets and they weren't working properly so with the birth team available to help Julie, he took off for the basement area of the house to see if he could work the pipes in a different way in order to allow the jets to give Julie some added comfort. Julie said in a very small scared voice, that she just wanted to be alone.
Penny and I decided to sit in the front room to give Julie some privacy. Oscar followed us in. At some point in the evening before we arrived, pizza had been delivered. It was on the coffee table. Cold, a few pieces missing with the cardboard grease-stained box open. Oscar was taking a bite of each piece as he jumped up and down on a living room chair. He'd have a taste and a lick and then fling it back into the box. His baby fingers and little cheeks covered in sauce. We did our best to coral him and wipe him down every few minutes. He'd go right back to the box. We finally gave up rather than have him scream and upset Julie. At some point, Oscar turned his attention to the television and Netflix. He was a pint sized technical operator and finding things to watch. We hoped it would keep him occupied and maybe he'd sleep. it was nearly 2a.m.
We took this time to set up our equipment in the birthing room and covered the bed with protective pads Julie had asked (through Mike) when we first arrived, that Penny not do a cervical check. We had no way of knowing just how far along Julie was in her labor other than to watch for contractions which we could not see her having any at first.. As we hung out in the bedroom just off the bathroom, we could see Julie through the bedroom mirror reflection. She was still in a tight ball in the tub but seemed to be breathing more deeply and rhythmically. She was letting out very tiny sad whimpers with each one of these breath changes. We couldn't stand to see her suffer and alone even though she did say she wanted to have privacy.
I found a large 7-11 plastic soda cup and very quietly tiptoed into the bathroom. I gently poured water over her abdomen as she rested. She flipped over a bit with her next contraction and whimpered a bit louder. I asked if she wanted me to stop. She said in a voice louder than we'd heard so far, "NO! Keep doing that!"
BANG! Slam! The door hit the midwife in the hip. Oscar had not fallen asleep. He realized he was alone in the living room and he wasn't having any of that! He wiggled his way in past the oxygen tank and midwifery supply bags. He was standing at the bathroom door, screaming and motioning he wanted in the tub. Mike heard the commotion and came upstairs to help. Mike undressed Oscar and let him in the water with mama as she labored. Oscar wanted to play with the cup I was using to pour water onto his mama and of course if Oscar wanted something it was granted. He wanted to be the one to pour water on mama. He got water on the birth team, mamas head, the floor.. we decided to get Julie out of the tub (for comfort and protection at this point). Her rhythm had been broken and her contractions were now coming hard. She readily agreed side-lying on the bed might help with her sacral pain. We suspected with "back labor" she could be in for a long haul. Baby was clearly posterior.
By now it was past 3a.m. with no sign of Oscar getting sleepy. he bounced on the bed and stepped all over his mama. We asked if he'd had a nap late and Mike told us that he often stayed up all night with mama watching television and playing. Penny and I looked at each other. I know we both thought, "Oh, great."
Oscar didn't understand his mama's labor noises and this was upsetting him. So, Mike decided to take the little guy for a ride. He said that sometimes Oscar would fall asleep in the car during rides and he wanted to give that a try. We later found out Mike hadn't had a cigarette in hours and was ready to snap so he was eager to get out for that as well.
With Mike and Oscar out of the house, Julie labored on with each contraction coming a bit closer together and stronger. She went through transition with quiet dignity, never really crying out. We gave her sips of water and held space for her as she did the thing that all laboring mothers do when they birth without medication. She gently slid from the here and now, to a sort of altered state of consciousness. Some mothers call it "Labor-land" and some call it, "The birth zone".
Julie was nearing the end of her labor and coming to a point where she would be pushing her baby out into the world. There's often a quiet sort of restful time at the end of labor just before a mother pushes. Contractions will stop for 15 or 20 minutes. Sometimes more. Julie was in this time. She smiled, made eye contact and even giggled at some of the midwife's jokes about Oscar wanting to scuba dive in the birth tub. It's a beautiful thing to see what the hormone Oxytocin does for women. Inhibitions exit and peaceful joy takes over. You can almost feel it in the air. Oxytocin is called, "The love hormone" with good reason. It had a beautiful effect on Julie.
At about 3:45 we heard soft tip toe walking of a mans big shoes. Mike was back and he had a limp, one arm flung sideways, sleeping, Oscar! Everybody smiled. Quietly!
Mike tucked Oscar in bed down in a back room and closed the door behind him. Julie looked at Mike and said, "I have to puuuuuuuuuush!" Julie was on the bed semi-sitting with pillows behind her and Mike snuggled in behind to give her more back support. This wasn't Julies first baby so we expected the pushing phase would not be a long one. We expected right. With just three pushes, Julie had already pushed the head of her baby all the way out. With the next push came the anterior shoulder, I was already gloved and helped to support the baby as the posterior shoulder passed over her perineum. I told Julie to reach down and take her baby.
Julie reached down and pulled her baby to her chest. The baby was as we suspected, a bit early and on the small side. She was covered with a thick coat of vernix but pink and breathing well. She had some great reflexes and a strong heart rate. She seemed to be looking all around at her new surroundings. Julie held the wrinkled new baby close and cried and cried and cried. Her cry seemed different than that of typical mothers. Her cry was more of a woman grieving. I wondered if she was remembering the birth of Oscar or was she remembering being traumatized as a child. We couldn't be sure. She wasn't able to share with us on that level.
The midwife asked Mike if the baby was a boy or a girl. Nobody had looked. Penny never announces the gender of the baby. For those parents who choose not to use ultrasound in pregnancy, she lets them discover what they have all on their own. Mike looked between the baby's legs and said, "Julie! You had a girl!" . She was just 5 pounds and 18 inches long but she found the breast and latched on right away with determination. She was already a fighter, she would probably have to be once Oscar found out she was staying. Mike and Julie named the baby, Heather Joy. It was Springtime and we loved that the name was so fitting for the time of year.
Mike and Julie never came in for a postpartum visit. They never did come up with the rest of the fee for the midwife. We talk about them now and then. Wonder how they are getting along and if Julie will have another baby. We always smile and hope that the midwifery model of care she received helped her even if it was only in a small way. There would be at least one happy labor and birth story for this mother to share.
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