But first, if you want it, Ronan's birth story.
I read that story and it sounds so perfect. In a lot of ways, it is. But there's one thing... It doesn't exactly help the memories I have of being stuck inside this body, with everything so intense, and wishing there was someone to tell me what I needed to do next.
When I was pregnant with Ronan, Kyle refused to take any birth classes with me. I figured, okay, fine. I already know a lot about birth, and he knows less but still more than your average first time dad. This didn't bother me too much.
I told him that in the absence of classes, I would highlight the information sections I felt were important in our copy of 'the birth partner'. I highlighted, gave him the book, and... he never read it.
I can say now that I was crushed. I felt like he didn't care about me or understand how much I would need him during labour. I told myself that he had a right to have a vision of what his role in the birth was, and if that was sitting beside me in silent companionship or with verbal affirmations, so be it, I suppose. At the time, I 'm not sure I communicated well about how important the whole thing was to me, but for support, I invited my friend Kelly to the birth.
That went... Okay, I guess. I'm sure it was special to see him born but I think if you want someone to play a strong supportive role in your birth you need it to be either your partner, your bestest best friend who isn't afraid to tell you what to do, direct you physically, and always say the right thing, or just hire someone who gives that exact kind of support for a living.
I'll say right here that my midwife is and was amazing, but her focus needs to be observing the labour, looking for signs of health and being ready for signs of danger. A midwife should always be supportive, but they are not the same type of support as your partner or doula. The person looking out for the wellbeing of your emotions should not be the same person responsible for your safety, because sometimes the needs of the latter outweigh the importance of the former and that line should not be blurry.
Once, as I was getting dressed to transfer to the hospital, I pulled Kyle close and made him rock and sway with me through a contraction. It helped a little, the contraction was less intense than the others, but I just felt in that moment such sadness. I shouldn't have needed to initiate the contact I needed. It should have been there from the start. I wondered then, and wonder now, if my long, long labour would have been different if my physical support system had been different. If I had a constant whisper in my ear saying you can do this, you're already doing it, don't give up, you're so strong, your baby is almost here and he's going to be amazing and you are being amazing for him.
And maybe it was there the whole time, but I don't remember it. Maybe the memory of labour has done something to my brain and he was really saying those things the whole time, but when I look back on the memories I have of that time I remember feeling fairly alone. Those feelings were erased as soon as Ro was born and didn't crop back up for quite some time, so elated was I about my new baby, so proud of what was ultimately a very healthy and successful labour and birth, but now I face birth again and those are the fears I have. I don't fear birth. I've done it once and I can do it again, and if I can't I'll know there was no weakness on my part, but I do fear the feeling of aloneness.
So this time I'm doing it differently. Kyle has offered to take a childbirth class with me, and I think we'll do it. But I'm also hiring a doula, because I need to honor the fact that maybe he was just scared and emotional himself. It was his first birth, too. He didn't know what I needed, I couldn't tell him at the time, and though he and I will both be more ready, I want even more. I want the affirmations in my ears until I'm begging everyone to shut up. I want suggestions of what to do until I tell them to fuck off and let me listen to my body. I want someone to help and guide him, too.
So, tonight, we meet eight women who do just that, all the time. Maybe one will be the one for us.