Ageless Passions by Karen Putz

Tag: homebirth

  • Happy Birthday Diego: The Honor of Attending a Birth

    Diego is two today, but the memories of his birth are as fresh as ever!  Happy birthday Diego!

    For six long days, Juliet’s labor started on and off. Every night, I tucked my phone under my pillow, waiting for the vibration that would signal the real deal. On Mon., Dec. 21, the phone sprang into action and I awoke at 6:30 a.m. to a text saying that the contractions were pretty strong and that the midwife was on her way over. We agreed to wait until the midwife arrived and then see if I should be on my way.

    Juliet and I met a few years back, when her daughter, Paula, was a toddler. I worked as a deaf mentor in the state’s early intervention program and provided mentoring services to her family, teaching sign language and answering questions about growing up hard of hearing and becoming deaf. Juliet and I connected in more ways than one – we both shared a love of writing and an interest in natural birth. When Juliet became pregnant with her second baby, I casually offered to be a doula for her. She took me up on the offer. We met for lunch and discussed her plans for the upcoming birth.

    Years ago, I studied to become a doula with the intention of making a career out of it. I had the honor of attending several births, including an amazing home water birth where the midwife walked in as the mom was pushing. My third child was born at home, but since I was induced with Cytotec, his birth wasn’t quite the “natural” birth that I had anticipated. I later went on to write an article for Midwifery Today about the dangers of Cytotec and a chapter in the book, “Don’t Cut Me Again.” As the years progressed, the idea of becoming a full-time doula took a back seat to my other jobs.

    I was looking forward to attending Juliet’s homebirth that morning, but she soon texted to say that the contractions had stopped completely. At 4 p.m., her water broke. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the ingredients for the soup that I planned to make and headed out into the rush hour. I figured it would take me an hour to get there, but the cars in front of me moved aside and let me pass.

    When I arrived, Juliet was in the middle of hard labor but still smiling and talking. Joel, her husband, was holding her and rocking her back and forth. I took one look at Juliet’s legs and ankles- she was retaining quite a bit of water and her skin looked as if it would burst. I sat down to massage her legs and feet and get some of the swelling down. Paula was bouncing back and forth between the rooms, stopping to rub Juliet’s shoulder and then running off to watch a movie in her room.

    “Are you excited about meeting your baby brother or sister?” I signed.

    “Yes, I am!”

    Paula chattered and signed and moved in circles, going from her parent’s bedroom and back in to her own. I could literally feel the excitement radiating from her. She furrowed her brow when the contractions came in waves and Juliet vocalized her pain, but quickly smiled when we reassured her that everything was moving along as it should.

    The labor slowed a bit. During that time, Juliet’s husband stayed with her and I read a few books to Paula. After a while, I joined the midwife and her apprentice in the living room as we waited for labor to speed up again. The soup was cooking slowly on the stove and we helped ourselves to some dinner.

    Juliet was incredibly tired from the six days of on and off labor and it was beginning to show on her face. She pushed in several different positions, trying to get rid of the lip that was stubbornly hanging on. She moved to the birth stool and slowly, the baby began moving down. It wasn’t quite fast enough for Juliet.

    “Tell me you’re feeling some ears!” she said to the midwife. “You better be feeling ears!” The midwife laughed.

    Juliet moved back to the bed. Joel held up one leg and I held the other and everyone gave some encouraging words. Juliet threw herself into every push, finding energy deep down for each one. “That was a good one!” the midwife said. I looked down and saw the baby’s head begin to appear.

    “Juliet! Feel your baby! Your baby is being born!” I said. Juliet reached down and then gave a huge push. The head. Another push. The shoulders. Several more pushes. Then a whole baby.

    Diego Ruben, at a hefty 8 pounds, 6 ounces, entered the world at 9:40 p.m. on December 21st. The winter solstice, a day that signifies the birth of winter and the longest night.

    What a beautiful night.

  • Officially a Mom of Three Teenagers

    Today’s a big day.  This is the day that Steven turns thirteen.

    It’s official.  I’m a mom of three teenagers.

    How did the time go by so fast?  I can remember his birth as if it was just yesterday…

    When I was pregnant with Steven, I had the brilliant idea of ripping out our bathtub and putting in a large soaking tub so that I could labor comfortably in it.  Joe went along with it.  It was only a few hundred dollars for the tub and we figured we could do most of the work ourselves.  Never mind that it involved removing half of our double sink and putting a toilet in that space.  Such a simple job, we thought.

    The work was moving along slowly.  Joe framed the bathtub and we hired a plumber to do all the pipe work.  A friend helped tear down the tile and we hired someone else to tile up the side of the tub and walls just days before the birth.    When the midwife and naturopath arrived, Joe was working on the floor.

    I was a bundle of nerves and I couldn’t quite get settled that week.  I had no doubts about doing a homebirth, but there was an unease inside of me, a lot of it had to do with concerns that I didn’t recognize until much later after the birth.  Someone had advised me to pray to St. Therese for this birth and I learned that this saint answers prayers with “a shower of roses.”   As we got ready to take a walk that evening, the midwife casually mentioned that she received a beautiful bouquet of red roses from a mom who had homebirthed with her.

    I knew that was my sign.  From that point on, I was enveloped with an amazing, calm feeling.  I simply focused on each breath and dove into the hypno-birthing from that point on.   During the pushing, I was using Christie Lake as a focal point in my mind.  At one point, the naturopath was applying fundal pressure and I saw a sparkle of blue lights.  It was as if I was floating on the lake on a beautiful summer day and the lake was twinkling in the sun.  I recently learned that it’s a sign of Mother Mary being present.   There definitely was some divine intervention for Steven’s birth, because I was given Cytotec at the beginning–which can cause ruptures and is very unsafe for VBACs.   I did not know this at that time.  I later wrote an article about the dangers of Cytotec which was published in Midwifery Today and DON’T CUT ME AGAIN! True Stories About Vaginal Birth After Cesarean (VBAC).

    The day that Steven entered this world was an amazing one and I do have lots of good memories of his birth.  Despite the medical aspect, the midwife and naturopath tended to me well.  They sang, they cooked, they did laundry, they soothed and they supported me.  If I could do it all over again, without a doubt, I would have homebirthed all three kids.  I was fortunate to attend several births since then, including a home waterbirth and a winter solstice birth.

    So here I am, thirteen years later with a house full of teenagers.  You know all those horror stories that everyone has about teens?  Hogwash.  The teen years are the best years.

    “Mom?  Can I go to Buffalo Wild Wings with my friends?  I need some money.”

    “Sure, honey.  I’ll give you fifteen bucks.  But first, mop the kitchen floor, clean the upstairs bathroom and do a load of laundry.  Then you can go.”

    Happy Birthday, Steven Michael!

  • The Honor of Attending a Water Birth

    I was sitting on the couch up in Michigan when the phone rang. It was 10:30 p.m.

    “It’s your friend,” said my Dad.  “She’s in labor and wants you to come now.”

    I grabbed my bag and jumped in the car.  It was a two hour drive to Mary Kate’s house, but I shaved off some time with a heavy foot and no traffic to deal with.  I didn’t want to miss the birth.  Mary Kate and I had met on a homebirth forum online and became friends.  We both had birthed our first two kids via cesarean and I had homebirthed my third kiddo.  Mary Kate asked me to be a doula for her home water birth and I was looking forward to supporting her during the birth.

    When I arrived, Mary Kate’s labor had slowed down.  “I’m going to head to the food store and get a few things,” I said.  I figured we might be in for a long night and I decided to make some dinners for after the birth.  I started a pot of soup and a roast.  Mary Kate’s surges would come and go and she did a beautiful job of breathing through them.  “Get as much sleep as you can,” I said.  I settled in on the couch for a few hours of sleep.

    Kyle, Mary Kate’s husband woke me up early in the morning.  Mary Kate’s parents arrived to pick up the boys and take them to their house.  Once the boys left, labor started to kick in.  Kyle started filling up the water birth tub so that Mary Kate could labor in it.   Before she stepped in, she was holding on to Kyle and she said, “I can’t do this anymore.”

    Instantly, my instincts kicked in and I knew that labor was progressing.  “Do you want to call the midwife now?” I asked.

    “No, not yet,” Mary Kate said.  “I don’t want her to come too early.”

    Mary Kate sank into the tub and Kyle and I took turns supporting her.  The labor picked up more intensely and I told Kyle that I thought it was time to call the midwife.  He went off to call her and I continued to support Mary Kate.  When Kyle returned, we switched places and I noticed that the baby had moved down.

    “Mary Kate, your baby is moving down,” I said.

    She was in denial.  It was hard for her to believe that after two cesareans, she was going to be able to birth her baby.  I looked at Kyle.  “Do you want to catch or do you want me to catch?”

    “I’ll catch,” he said.

    A few minutes later, the midwife walked in.  She assessed Mary Kate and said that she was ready to push.  I went to grab the camera and videocamera.

    Ten years ago on this day, Maeve slipped into the water and Mary Kate brought her up to snuggle on her chest.  It was a moment that I’ll always remember– the dawn of a new day and a new soul arriving in this world.  Happy Birthday, Maeve!

  • Welcome to the World, Diego Ruben!

    I had the honor of attending the birth of Diego Ruben, who entered this world on Monday evening at 9:40 p.m. in a beautiful homebirth.  Congrats to the Martinez family!

    Diego’s Birth Story: The Honor of Attending a Birth

    Syndicated in newspapers:

    News Observer

    Scramento Bee

    Idaho Statesman

    Fresno Bee

  • Happy Birthday to my Homebirthed Kiddo

    Twelve years ago, I homebirthed my youngest kiddo.  Happy Birthday, Steven!

    Happy Birthday to my Baby!

    Take This Pill and Have Your Baby in the Morning

  • What I Learned from my Homebirth

    On Sunday, we celebrated my youngest’s son’s birthday. Eleven years. How time zips by.  Every year on his birthday, I always think back to his birth.

    I didn’t plan a homebirth at first.  I had my two other kids via cesarean.  Lauren’s birth was especially hard, because I had hoped to birth her naturally, but ended up consenting to be induced.  Post-partum depression reared its ugly head and I was fortunate to find a support group to help me through it.

    While attending the support group, I learned that several other moms had given birth at home.  One mom had two cesareans like me. 

    Homebirth?  Nah.  That was far too radical for me.  I was a good follower.  I dutifully took my kids to the pediatrician and followed the schedule for vaccinations.  I read the books on what to expect when pregnant.  I went for the epidural and the pitocin hook-ups each time.

    Then a little surprise–the lines turned pink on the plastic stick, the result of a New Year’s Eve party that we had at our house.  A welcome surprise though, as we had planned to have a third child down the road.

    While attending the support group, I began to dive into books about birth.  My friend Beth had briefly contemplated a homebirth and she handed over Sheila Kitzinger’s Homebirth for me to read.  The more I read, the more people that I talked to about homebirth, the stronger the feeling began to grow inside of me that I wanted to have a homebirth.

    And I did.  It was an amazing time, in more ways than one.  But I also ended up being induced at home, consenting to something that I didn’t really know I was consenting to.  Steven’s homebirth turned into a story that was published in Don’t Cut Me Again. 

    Birthing at home wasn’t so much the life changing event as making the decision to have a homebirth.  I was torn between doing what society perceived as safe (birthing in the hospital) and doing what my instinct was leading me toward.  Did I have the courage to break the status quo?  Did I have the courage to look within and make a decision that that felt right to me (and my husband), despite others telling me I shouldn’t? 

    Making the decision was a liberating moment for me. 

    When decisions come from within us and are not influenced by outside factors, we hold ourselves responsible for the outcomes.  We own the decisions with more rights than we could have if we allowed someone else to influence us. 

    So tell me, have you faced a moment in your life that shaped the way you make decisions?