Why I chose my spouse for my birth partner

This post is for Science & Sensibility's "Healthy Birth Blog Carnival #3: Bring a loved one, friend, or doula for continuous support." Check back the week of Nov. 30 at the link for other entries when the carnival goes live! If you blog about birth and want to enter, submit your post to Science & Sensibility by Nov. 23.



When I was planning for Mikko's birth, the question came up: Who would be present during the labor?

I was planning a home birth, and I was seeing two midwives for prenatal care. One would be present during the birth, along with one or more student midwives.

I had already decided, then, not to birth entirely alone, so I needed to choose who else, if anybody, would be present. My options were my husband, other family members, a paid doula, or some combination of the above.

I seriously considered the options of family members and a doula, but in the end I chose only Sam as my birth partner. I'll present my reasons and my conclusions about my choice, in case it helps anyone else in the decision process. If you resonate or disagree with any of my reasoning, that will tell you something about what choice you might feel most comfortable with.

[NB: Sorry in advance that this is looong. You can skim for the bolded bullet points to find interesting bits to read if you're so inclined! I'm a completist; what can I say?]

     • I knew for sure that I wanted Sam with me. I know that for some women, men — or anyone — in the room with them can be a distraction. For me, Sam is my rock and the person I'm absolutely most comfortable with. I'm a very reserved, introverted person. With anyone else in the world, even if I'm enjoying the company, I just have to bolt now and again, because it gets too much. If you invite me to a party and you can't find me, I'm probably in the loo taking a breather — or I left early. Before I married, I worried that I would get that same overwhelmed, trapped feeling with my partner — and I never have. Being with Sam is like being with myself. Only better. So he was staying, I knew. That left family and doulas to consider.

     • The next easiest but most emotionally wrenching part of the decision process was choosing not to invite any other family members or friends to be present. I didn't have any who were supportive of home birth or midwife-assisted birth, and I knew I didn't want negativity and second guessing swirling around me. This was disappointing, because in the back of my mind, I had long assumed my mother would be present at my birth. I knew she could have been a strong advocate for me in the event of a hospital transfer (which is, in fact, what happened), but only if she was on board with my wishes, and I felt that she was uncomfortable with them.

     • I think if I have a second or subsequent birth that having a relative or friend present to care for the older sibling(s) could be helpful, so I'm going to keep that in mind. I would love for Mikko to be present for his sibling's birth if he wanted to be, but I'm rational enough to know that watching someone moan and shut her eyes for 42 hours could get a wee bit boring for a young child. Even the midwives took naps during that! So having someone he was familiar with on hand would be a lifesaver in terms of taking him away to refresh, but staying near enough that he could be brought back when needed. However, since this was my first birth, that wasn't necessary. My cat handled herself just fine without a sitter. (I actually did wonder how she'd do — she couldn't have cared less!)


Deciding whether or not to hire a doula was more of a process. I talked it out on message boards, listened to my midwives' advice (they said to get one), and asked Sam probing questions to determine his fitness to support me in a doula-free environment. We decided against a doula, for these various reasons:

     • First of all, we were planning a home birth with midwives. If we had been planning a hospital birth, or a birth with an OB-GYN physician, or even a birth center birth, I absolutely would have, no questions asked, hired a doula. I would need a strong advocate in a situation where intervention was a high likelihood. I would want someone to be my voice for me. Sam is great at speaking to me and supporting me personally, but neither of us is very outspoken at demanding our rights or defending our wishes. As it was, though, we were planning a low-intervention birth, and we trusted our midwives, whom we had seen throughout the pregnancy, to honor our wishes during the birthing time. Sam and I didn't feel like we would be fighting against them, so another advocate seemed unnecessary.

     • Now, if we transferred to the hospital — as we did — our insurance would no longer cover the midwives as caregivers, and we would switch to a set fee. The good thing about the fee is that it meant the midwives would come to the hospital with us to serve as doulas and advocates. This is in fact what happened, and they were great with that. They were able to speak with the staff about my laboring background and my current progress; they argued with the nurses about all the monitoring and questions (they lost some of these arguments, but it saved me the energy of trying and failing!); they were able to secure the best nurse-midwife to attend, because of their relationship with her; after the birth, they reminded me and supported me in my decisions not to have, for instance, the Hep B shot for Mikko, my non-drug-using, non-promiscuous newborn; they reassured me that the cord was cut after it stopped pulsing; and...they took pictures! Both still and video. Sam and I had long stopped thinking about documenting this incredibly long labor, but we so appreciated after the fact that we had footage of the beautiful natural birth.

     • I mentioned that I'm shy and not so great with strangers. Even having the midwives attend at my own home made me nervous that I'd clench up my sphincter muscles and not be able to birth unencumbered. As it turned out, I went so far into Labor Land that modest ol' me was often totally nude in front of the various midwives and midwifery students and didn't care a whit. But I was nervous about finding a doula I could feel as comfortable and free with as I felt with Sam (well, or nearly so — I wasn't looking for perfection!). It seemed like a daunting task, even harder than our series of midwife interviews. The midwives were with us through part of the labor, but spent much of their time in the living room while Sam and I dominated the bedroom and I took long showers in the bathroom. But I had the understanding that a doula would be there, close to me, the whole time, and I was so afraid that I would choose someone I couldn't after all stand! I don't know how reasonable this fear was, just that it seemed safer to leave well enough alone.

     • One reason I wanted to make sure I wasn't being pestered by someone throughout the labor was that I was using Hypnobabies as my birthing technique. To enter that state of focus, I needed peace and the freedom to go inside myself. I had a horrible vision of a doula who wouldn't stop talking. Indeed, one of our midwives was more talkative than the other, and Sam and I worried that if we drew her for the birth that she might be too distracting. She actually was the one on call, and it turned out to be totally fine. She was very serene and stayed out of the way. So I might not (probably would not) have had to worry about that with a doula, either. If I had hired a doula, I would have wanted one who was familiar with or at least positive toward Hypnobabies or childbirth hypnosis. If the midwives had been negative toward hypnosis — well, first of all, we wouldn't have hired them! But if I had sensed reservations, I might have hired a doula supportive of hypnosis to counter that; however our midwives were completely enthusiastic about hypnosis and said it always made for calm mamas. If we had hired a doula, we ideally would have hired one who was trained in Hypnobabies in particular and who could have helped me stay under hypnosis and use trigger words to relax me further. However, Hypnobabies doulas are harder to find, and they sometimes charge more.

     • That leads me to the monetary point. Sam and I are not and were not rich. Doulas were a hefty cost that was not covered by our self-employed health insurance. I think they should be, because positive labor support has an incredible effect on healthy birth outcomes. But even though doulas generally undercharge for their amazing care, affording to pay a doula can be out of reach of some mamas.

     • I had to ask myself what I wanted a doula to accomplish, and then I turned around and asked Sam all the same questions, to see if he would commit to be up for the task. Our midwives and I encouraged him to read The Birth Partner: A Complete Guide to Childbirth for Dads, Doulas, and All Other Labor Companions, by Penny Simkin, and I shared with him nearly all the knowledge I had gleaned about childbirth through reading countless books, magazines and websites, and even had him watch some YouTube videos with me! He also had his own birth partner Hypnobabies CD to listen to, to help relax and empower him. We practiced various hypnosis techniques together, and he learned a trigger word to put me into deep relaxation. After he had a chance to absorb some of this material, I went through The Birth Partner's checklist for birth partner preparedness. I asked him if he would be supportive and positive throughout the labor, if he could handle any fluids or yuckiness (I threw up multiple times and bled a lot after, so it's wise I checked!), if he could provide physical support despite lack of sleep (he pressed on my back through almost every contraction, bless him!), if he could NOT PANIC even if I was (this was crucial!), if he could handle seeing his wife's genitalia looking very odd and very exposed indeed, if he could manage nitpicky details like heating water for the birthing tub and setting out snacks while also attending to me, if he could advocate for me when I was unable to express my wishes, and if he could care for himself as needed while he cared for me. I didn't need him passing out from lack of food or sleep! Sam agreed thoughtfully to each point. It really was a monumental task, and he performed it with aplomb.

     • One final test in making our choice was considering what Sam wanted. Yes, ultimately I was the one giving birth out of my body, but it was Sam's experience, too, and I respected and honored his wishes. Also private and uncomfortable around near-strangers, Sam felt wary about having another guest in the house. He particularly didn't like the idea of a support person who would be closer to me than he was. He feared that his place by my side would be usurped by a strange woman. In his shoes, I would have feared the same thing, so this was the clinching argument.

All right, those were our reasons not to hire a doula or have family present at our birth, but to have Sam act as full birth partner.

Now that it's over, would I do anything differently?

     • I stand by my desire and joy to have Sam present at any birth, even though Michel Odent suggests it's not healthy or helpful for men to be present. Sam is my other half, and it's his baby, too.

     • I still feel guilty that I didn't invite my mother to be present at her only daughter's first birthing time. It's not that she asked and I declined; I just never spoke of it. But I always wonder if she was hurt by the omission. I console myself by considering her as first choice to be the point guard for Mikko in any future birth. I still believe any outside negativity or concern would have been unhelpful in Mikko's long, uneventful labor, and Sam did not want her present in any case, so despite my emotional regrets, I know I made the right decision.

     • For hiring a doula, I don't know. If I were to do a first birth over again, I might hire one, but start looking for her early to ensure that we found a good fit and could get to know each other as friends before the birth.

     • For a subsequent birth, I feel more prepared and knowledgable. That said, there are aspects that I don't think Sam and I did so well on that a doula might have or would have improved:
     For instance, I threw my regimented Hypnobabies techniques out the window and just basically focused on relaxing and staying calm. This worked — don't get me wrong — but it might have worked even better if I'd had a Hypnobabies doula who could keep me on track. I don't remember Sam ever using our trigger word or hand gesture or scripts as we had practiced (is this true, Sam? I was so out of it that I might just be blanking).
     In general, I felt like Sam was sort of skimming all the information I was throwing at him about birth but that he wasn't passionate about it like I was. That might be an unfair characterization, but it's how it seemed to me, whereas I could be confident that a doula would have been wholly devoted to and knowledgable about birthing.
     Sam held up through the long labor like gangbusters, snatching naps in between waves just as I did, but he might have appreciated a longer spell now and again; I'd have to ask him.
     The most significant reason I'd consider hiring a doula for a do-over or for next time is that, true to my expectations, Sam and I are crap at standing up for ourselves. We each did our best, but being tongue-tied people pleasers, we just are not very good at that sort of thing.
     I mentioned that we trusted our midwives, but still there were things that happened that were less than our ideal. For instance, I had fully expected to refuse all internal exams due to their depressing nature — but I had several at the behest of the midwives. They all said I was at 5 cm. The.whole.time. Like I said, depressing. I felt churlish and out of line at the thought of refusing, and so I didn't. A doula who knew of my preferences might have spoken up (and wrestled the midwives to the ground?).
     When the talk came of hospital transfer, the reason given was "You've been at 5 cm for 35+ hours of back labor; if this continues at the same rate, you might become exhausted, so maybe it's best to transfer now, get some Pitocin, an epidural, and some rest, so that you can be fit to push when the time comes." I didn't feel exhausted, because I had been napping in between contractions. I was dehydrated from the vomiting and running a slight fever, but the midwives had given me a couple bags of IV fluid to compensate. Sam tried to talk me out of the transfer, but at that point I was too low emotionally to fight it. We were onto our third potential date for what might be our baby's birthday, and still there was no sign of his imminent arrival. The grim prediction that, because I had been at 5 cm, I would stay at 5 cm into perpetuity just wore me down.
     As it turned out, Sam was right: I felt the urge to push in the car, and I had our baby naturally a scant few hours after arriving in the hospital. But in that moment, facing his weary and depressed wife and feeling not a little weary and depressed himself, Sam did what any good husband would do: He gave in to make me happy.
     I wonder if a doula would have fought the midwives harder on that one, too, and gone harder toward cheering me up and on. In this imaginary scenario, I'm considering doulas to equal something like a mother bear. Whether they are this way, I do not know.
     After the birth, too, faced with pushy nurses armed with formula bottles, we could have used just such a fierce advocate, but I don't know if even the doula would have been around at that point. All of which leads me to believe that Sam and I simply (and difficultly) need to become better at advocating for ourselves. I do feel more prepared for next time, and I trust Sam does, too.
     I think one problem was that our natural reticence and the calm demeanor induced by Hypnobabies made it hard for our midwives to gauge my emotional state and my physical capacity in any given moment. I was too soft-spoken and engaged in labor to try to explain myself. I don't know that having a doula would help any with this, unless she was psychic (I kid) or could intuit my feelings very well. If I did find such a doula, though, that would be invaluable for being a filter between the healthcare professionals and me. The home-birth midwives, although they were low-intervention in comparison to MDs, still had to consider persky things like malpractice suits and medical responsibility. An astonishingly adept doula could have played ambassador and interpreter between the two sides. However, I don't know if I would be able to open myself up to a doula, either, so this might be a moot point.
     One not-very-important point, but a small regret for my archivist heart and one I wish to rectify in the future, is that we took very few pictures during the labor. I know some doulas are professional photographers, and some are eager amateurs. Sam and I felt too alternately drained and focused to wish to document the labor, so having someone on hand whose job it was might have been nice after the fact. That said, there are other options we could consider, like a time-lapse video set up in one corner.

Let me just say that I mean no disrespect toward doulas based on our choice. I am actually so interested in birth that I considered going back to school to become a midwife, and when that seemed daunting, realized that becoming a doula one day might be a more manageable dream!

So, those are our reasons for choosing solely a spouse as birth partner, and the outcome. Who was with you during your birth, and why did you choose the companions you did? How did their support help, and what would you do differently next time? (Please answer in essay form, and neatness counts.)

(Just joking. But you can seriously answer the questions. I'd love to hear!)

Remember to check Science & Sensibility for the links to the other Healthy Birth Blog Carnival entries starting Nov. 30.

Photos courtesy Christy Scherrer on flickr (cc)

A call to persist in babywearing

When my son was born, babywearing was a necessity. Mikko emerged weighing an astonishing 12 pounds, and he was not amused at being ousted from his soft, liquid home. The one thing that made him feel better? Snuggling close to a warm body, feeling loving arms around him, and hearing a gently beating heart — and bouncing. Parents have instinctively known for centuries that newborns respond well to the rhythms of a mama's walk, because of course that's what the baby's been experiencing these long nine months within.

But our little guy hit 20 pounds at nine weeks, and we couldn't manage the continual walking and bouncing he demanded without something to hold him up and give our arms a break!

I was glad I had invested so heavily in a babywearing stash during pregnancy. Out came the ring slings, the stretchy and gauze wraps, the structured carriers, and each had its place in our babywearing repertoire, depending on task (long walk? chores around the house?) and mood (do I feel like green butterflies or fuzzy brown?).

What didn't change was the give-and-take at the heart of babywearing. We poured out love and security into Mikko, we offered the lovely memory of those free-floating days in the womb, we wrapped him warm and close and spoke into his ear. Mikko in turn gave us his trust, and before we knew it he could reach out his arms to us to signal that now, again, was the time to pick him up and hold him close.

Sometimes, as babies turn into toddlers, babywearing falls by the wayside or is given over to the next sibling to arrive on the scene. Once a baby can walk, it seems that we as parents are not needed as much for transportation, and we give our young a chance to stretch their legs and their freedom.

This autumn, we moved house. Since our new digs were just down the street, we frequently took advantage of the short distance by walking back and forth between the two places, to look for something we couldn't find, to transport a bulky object that didn't fit in the cargo van we rented, to free up more passenger space in our tiny car to fit that many more boxes for a trip.

I needed a way to accomplish all the tasks that come with moving, but our 2-year-old whirlwind was making getting anything done a bit of a challenge. I plucked the Ergo off the coat tree and turned to Mikko. "Want a ride on Mama's back?"

His eyes lit up, his arms shot out, and once again he was lifted up close to me. At this vantage point, as we walked along the beach toward our new home, he could see from our perspective, he could feel snuggled against a loving body, and I could hear his voice chirping sweetly in my ear and reach back to give his feet a squeeze.

I've made an effort to put babywearing back into our everyday lives, even though Mikko is a hefty 35 pounds and change, and even though he sometimes prefers to walk on his own. There's a lot more up and down than when he was a newborn, but babywearing is adaptable. If he wants to walk, he can, and if he wants a piggyback ride, I'm available.

Even once your child is too big or too heavy or too old for you to babywear, there are still ways to carry forward the spirit and intention of babywearing.

You might not have the kangaroo-care skin-to-skin bonding of those first few days, but you keep that contact alive by giving regular, nurturing touch: holding your child's hand, cuddling him close for nursing, giving a back rub as she falls asleep, and pooting that tempting soft belly.

You might not always be carrying their full weight against your body, but you can still find chances to physically interact: saving a seat on your lap, wrestling on the floor, twirling around the room, and squeezing in a great big hug.

At some point, you might not be able to pick up your child anymore. It's an observable truth that most kids eventually outgrow their parents' ability to haul them around, even in a really sturdy back carry! But we can still respond as attached parents when they lift up their arms, either literally or emotionally, and ask for our help, our connection, or our awareness.

If you keep in mind the reasons you chose babywearing in the first place, you will always find ways to hold your kids close to your heartbeat.

I'm curious: What's the heaviest or oldest child you've worn in a sling or other carrier, and do you have carrier recommendations? How do you physically connect with your children?

Special notes about this post: If it is Nov. 20 still, you can enter my mei tai baby carrier giveaway!

Even more significantly, I wrote this post to enter a contest myself: Parenting by Nature’s Blog to Inspire contest. Please comment and share this post — even if you're usually a lurker, I'd love to hear from you! We're judged partly by our engagement, so engage with me, fellow hobo mamas! And if you're a parenting blogger in Canada or the US, consider entering Blog to Inspire yourself. Wish me luck!

Photo courtesy Carin Araujo on stock.xchng

Last day to enter: Win a fleece mei tai baby sling!

Babywearing reminder: Today, Nov. 20, is the last day to enter to win a mei tai baby carrier.

It's easy: Just comment, Tweet, follow, or link! Contest is open to anyone worldwide, and you can keep the mei tai (pronounced may tie) for your own sweet baby (or future baby!) or give it as a baby gift! Read the complete rules here.

I have been so touched by everyone who's entered the giveaway so far and shared their stories of how they will use the mei tai. There are so many sweet new babies, and sweet older babies, and sweet babies-to-be, and I'm encouraged that all of them have a parent, a grandparent, an aunt or uncle, a sibling, or a friend looking out for them and giving the gift of babywearing! Thank you all for visiting my site and entering my first giveaway.

I will be randomly selecting a winner after midnight tonight and plan to announce the winner as soon as I hear back. If I don't hear from the winner within a couple days, I'll move on to someone else.

You can increase your chances to win a baby carrier by checking out my November Giveaway Roundup, which lists several giveaways for babywearing options: ring slings, baby wraps, an Ergo, and baby pouches. Check in the main text of the post, and also in the McLinky at the bottom. Check back through the month as I add more giveaways to the list.

And, remember, you have one daily Twitter entry left: Just follow me on Twitter and Tweet about the giveaway! You can use this text or craft your own: Last day to enter! Win a fleece mei tai baby carrier @Hobo_Mama http://bit.ly/T9QeR #babywearing

I also will give an entry for each blog post that mentions my giveaway.

Once again, here are the bloggers who have linked to me so far (thanks!):
     • Cindy of LIFE — Learning in a Family Environment fame — and again here with another great pitch!
     • Neptune Baby — a very funny post!
     • Abiding Quiver — thank you!
     • And a special shout-out to jorjedatoy at Welcome to My Roller Coaster for explaining StumbleUpon and listing me on LiveJournal!
     • The Raymonds gave me a mention here, and I love their tagline: "A Little Bit Crunchy, A Little Bit Outta Control"
     • velocibadgergirl at Pardon the Egg Salad has a great idea to get loved ones to enter on her behalf!
     • Amber Waves of Pain has titled her post "Great mei tai giveaway," which is probably just descriptive but sounds epic to my ears
     • James and the Giant Moose even references my post on giveaways and enters a bunch herself — go, go, go, win, win, win!
     • Welcome to My Roller Coaster made her own ring sling. Impressed? You should be.
     • All Things Granola blogged about my giveaway after I entered her giveaway of a sleepy wrap. Go enter & wear your baby some more!
     • Thank you to Etsy Giveaways, Handmade Giveaways, Everything Up Close, and Giveaways 4 Mommy for doing a special listing of my giveaway. Visit to find more great prizes!

Go and enter NOW! I still wish I had a mei tai for everybody!

Babywearing photo courtesy aslans_child on flickr (cc)

Trailer for Formula Fed America and a call to lactivism

Via Dou-la-la. This movie, Formula Fed America, looks really promising as a look into formula marketing practices and their effect on American health. I love me some documentary exposés. As @RaisingBoychick said, I could do without the opening that demonizes being fat as the worst result of formula dependence in this country, but despite that, I'm looking forward to this film. It features interviews with some of the leading lights of breastfeeding support and research, such as Dr. Jack Newman and Katherine Dettwyler, PhD.

Now that you're inspired, wanna do something about deceptive formula-marketing practices?

     • Join the Nestlé boycott, and read PhD in Parenting's question-and-answer sessions with Nestlé to educate yourself further about the company's doublespeak around supporting breastfeeding.

     • Secondly, if you're using BlogHer Ads, make sure you select the WHO-compliant new options to avoid any advertisements showing for formula or artificial nipples.

I want to put in a word before any formula-feeding mother reading this is offended or saddened, because that's not my intention: What breastfeeding activists are mad at is the companies that are promoting formula in deceptive and unethical ways, violating the World Health Organization's International Code of Marketing of Breast-Milk Substitutes and by using such underhanded techniques as buying breastfeeding-specific search keywords that suggest if you click on a link you'll get breastfeeding support, when in fact you get an ad recommending you switch to formula. If anyone is harassing an individual mother who has, for whatever reasons, chosen formula feeding, that's not cool. I know it stinks the other way around, when a breastfeeding mom is persecuted for breastfeeding in public, so I imagine the shaming goes both ways, and it needs to stop. The point is that formula is not as good as breastmilk; if you have to use it because there are no other options for your baby, then you should, but formula companies should not be pushing it on women indiscriminately. It should not be marketed to or by physicians, and formula marketing needs to stay the heck out of developing countries, where the toll of formula feeding is much greater than in a Westernized country that has clean water and access to health care. That's what this lactivism is about.

All right, breastfeed on, my sisters!