An Ode to Midwives (or at least to mine)

For some reason, when people find out we have a large family, they always seem to ask, "do you home school your children?" It's a good thing I don't, because last week I had to call my brother in Colorado, (Russ was out of town) to help me figure out how to do McKay's math homework. (For the record it was a bonus challenge problem tha involved detailed algabraic formulas), but nevertheless, quite humbling to realize that college degree or not, I still am challenged with 3rd grade curriculum.

The next thing they ask is, "Do you have your babies at home?" Numerous people have asked me if I had Savannah at home. Since I really enjoy having access to emergency medical treatment, not to mention anasethia, I have never been tempted to have my babies at home. However, this experience was probably as close as I'll ever get. It really was the best of both worlds. The birthing suites are pretty homey. As the pitocin was taking its time to take effect Russ and I sat in rocking chairs holding hands, watching a great football game.

Since my history has been that it once the pitocin starts working, the baby comes pretty quickly, I have had negative experiences having my body experiencing mass amounts of pain and having every urge to push only to have a nurse tell me the doctor had not yet arrived and I had to hold off for a while.

So, I decided to try a midwife this time since I'd heard they come a little earlier in the birthing process. She was extremely sensitive to my concerns. She always commented, "I really want to be there for you" and gave me her cell phone number so I could just call her directly anytime. She called my house a few times right before to make sure I was doing O.K., (I've never had a doctor do that). When I called to tell her my water had broke, she said she'd meet me at the hospital right away. It took over 4 1/2 hours for the pitocin to really start causing contractions, at least noticable ones, but she spent her whole Saturday morning waiting there for me, working on some homework in the back, checking me and chatting with us every so often.

When I started to feel the contractions getting a little stronger and more uncomfortable I called for the nurse to come check me. I figured if I was pretty far along (I came in dilated at a 5) then I would just stick it out, but if I still had a ways to go I would get an epideral. The nurse peeked in and said she was just discharging another patient but would be back in about 10 minutes to check me. Luckily she happened to tell Ann, my midwife that if she had a minute I had wanted to be checked. Ann came right away and told me to get into bed (I was still in my rocking chair waching football). I was at a 7, so she told me to roll on my left side for a minute, I did, and felt two doozy contractions (the kind that you feel it is very appropriate to let out a good hefty scream) and then I said I think I need to push. She turned around, checked me, and said, well then why don't you. She didn't have any scrubs or medical clothes on, she was just in her jeans and a t-shirt, and there were no nurses or staff in there. I wasn't even in stirrups, she just said just put your foot against my thigh and push. While Savannah was popping out she reaching for the nurse call button and said, "I could use a delivery table in here". A minute or two later multiple nurses came running in and everyone went to work sucking out Savannah's mouth and doing their thing. The nurse that had been seeing me all morning and administering the pitocin (who had been discharging another patient) said, "I can not believe I just missed this whole thing". I didn't mind that she missed it, I was just extremely grateful when I said, "I feel like I need to push", the answer was, "then go right ahead." In the medical world today, there are few practictioners who spend their entire Saturday just waiting to be there for the 10 minutes that it really matters. Ann Jeffries will always have a special place in my heart for being one of those rare people.