Welcome to the 21st century…
Where everyone wants to have their babies at home or on a farm somewhere. Maybe not everyone–maybe I just have a lot of crunchy friends (love you, Crunchy Friends! 😘). While a home birth was never my idea of a good time, I am grateful for my decision to birth in a hospital now more than ever because I almost died after giving birth to my daughter.
I was only 23 years old the day she took her first breath and I almost took my last.
I had an amazing pregnancy. I was in shape, I gained a healthy amount of weight, everything was perfect. I pushed maybe 2-3 times and she was here! A beautiful 8lb. 4oz. chunk of pure love. They laid her on my chest, I told her “Happy Birthday!”, and they swooped her away.
From there, things started getting hazy, more doctors came in the room. Then more, and more, and more. I couldn’t breathe right. Something was wrong. I asked the nurse if I was going to die and she didn’t answer. I remember my husband at my side, begging the nurse to tell me I wasn’t going to die. I remember her response–straight to the point: “We’re going to fix this”.
Minutes later my husband signed a form that it was okay to give me a hysterectomy, because if not, there was a 2% chance of survival.
After delivering my daughter, I delivered the placenta, which didn’t detach from my uterus as it should have. I hemmoraghed and almost bled to death. Had I not been in a hospital, I would have died. Did you hear me? I. Would. Have. Died.
My husband would have lost his wife.
My child would have grown up without a mother.
My family, who was waiting just outside the door, would have lost their daughter and sister.
There was NO way what happened could have been predicted or anticipated, and had I not been in a hospital with doctors who could perform emergency surgery, I would have died. There would have been no time to drive to the hospital had I been at home. There was no time to waste.
I didn’t meet my daughter until she was 13 hours old and after I was let out of the CCU. I missed out on skin to skin, her first bottle, her first bath, and barely remember our first days together or the first time we met. During those pictures up there, I was in emergency surgery for a hysterectomy and Michael was feeding our daughter her first bottle, crying, and wondering if he was going to be a single dad.
What happened that day still causes anxiety, depression, and many more hardships that go along with losing the ability to have biological kids at such a young age.
The thought of missing her first bath, barely being able to remember the first time we met, or not getting to snuggle her before she opened her eyes for the first time hurts. It REALLY hurts. But that is so much better than missing her first steps, first day of school, seeing her go off to prom, or find the love of her life.
I live every day with the pain of not being able to have more children; the fear of dying because of what happened. I’ll never get to tell my child “Mommy has a baby in her tummy!”. I’ll never get to take another belly picture or feel those kicks from the inside.
In my opinion, the “experience” of a home birth is not worth the risk. If you want a natural birth, I’d ask you to talk to your medical team about the possibiliy of doing that at the hospital, where you’ll still have access to life-saving healthcare. That is worth it. I promise.
Did your birth plan go as expected? Did the birth of one child affect your ability to have more ? Leave us a comment and let us know.