Our Birth Stories Matter Project | Part One
I get it, birth photography may not be something you commonly hear about. I know so many friends who before following me on Facebook or Instagram hadn't even heard of it as a thing. So there is no surprise that some things about birth photography are still clouded in a bit of mystery. But something that's even crazier to me is how few people know anything about birth itself.
Birth is truly a mystery in our culture.
.
This mystery of birth spreads across culture, religion, and gender. Men are raised to know a pretty limited idea of how they came into the world and how one day their child may enter the world. While women are raised to wait pretty much to the last second to learn about birth.
For many women, there is a lot of fear of pain, loss of control, and insecurity that comes along with birth.
But what if we could change that?
What if we could share more stories and more photos? What if we could be open about the journeys we have endured and the joy/messiness we have found? What if you could be apart of the change?
That’s where the series Our Birth Stories Matter was born! I’ll be sharing the beautiful, hard, inspiring birth stories of REAL mothers like you. Sharing their birth photos taken by their partners, selves and photogs. These mothers are from all over the world in all different walks of life. But they each have one thing in common and that is the desire to change the narrative around birth! To open up the conversations that surround motherhood, birth, and the body in a way that provides healing, education and inspiration for the mothers who will come after us.
A first time mom’s birth centre birth in Brighton, England
The Birth Story of Theo
told by his mom, Briony
Having declined a sweep at my 41 week midwife appointment I accepted one for 41 + 4 knowing that if we went through our 42 week point we wouldn’t be able to use our standalone MLU (given their very low risk tolerance). At my sweep I discovered I was already 2cm; Mark and I spent the afternoon walking around Brighton eating cake and the only real indicator of what was to come was that I devoured two dinners that evening (one sneaky one before M was back from circuits…) and that we had an unusually early night at 22:00.
At 2345 I woke with my first surges and switched on the brilliant Freya app, which was then on until I was admitted. By 00:45 I’d had four surges and woke M to tell him I was heading downstairs to “walk them off.” Immediately awake he joined me and we called the birthing centre at 1:11 to check-in. Just 20 mins later I was in established labor and we gathered everything and drove the 35 mins to the MLU. Everything was going in the right direction with frequency increasing, but up breathing and the guided meditation meant that the drive was easily manageable. On arrival I had three surges between the car and the unit (less than 100m) and - wonderfully - I was 4cm when I arrived at 3:00.
20 mins later I was in the pool, tea lights out, affirmations on and breathing through each surge. At the midwives’ shift I accepted a vaginal check which showed I was 7 cm. I left the pool to have the exam, largely as I had already been in for 4.5 hours and - though it was fairly uncomfortable to be on my back for the exam - it was really welcome news. The next couple of hours, when I was out of the pool, were my only real wobble, but I was having to focus so much on breathing through that I didn’t have the voice to ask for the gas & air I decided I wanted. I went into a bizarre state of meditation on the red power switch on the wall, and just focused on that during each surge. Bonkers I know, but the midwife told me later that she did the same with a cobweb during her first birth. By the time I got back into the pool and had my voice back, the need for any relief had passed.
I now reached a really odd stage which I think of as 2.a; I could feel pressure in my bum, but the midwife and I were convinced it was my waters as we were sure they hadn’t broken. I could feel my body pushing and I allowed it to but didn’t follow through with the pushing sensation. This continued for a couple of hours before the midwife conducted another vaginal exam which - wondrously - she managed to do in the water. I was 10cm, so the final stage (2.b?) could commence. In retrospect, it’s possible that I hit 10cm an hour or so earlier, but I didn’t feel sufficient time had passed since my 7cm check.
Essentially, I was still feeling the same sensation of my body pushing, but now I was assisting it. Having shifted around the pool and not found a position that was really working for this stage, I moved to the loo and immediately decided this was the position that was going to work for the baby. The midwife set up the birthing stool, which wasn’t as comfortable, so Mark ended up on the edge of the birthing sofa, with me in a supported squat. After 10 or so surges, which I assisted, Theo’s head popped out (the only moment at which I wondered to myself what happens if a baby gets stuck halfway!) and then the next two saw him sliding out like an eel. He came straight for skin to skin, M cut the cord after delaying and then I hobbled back to the loo where I birthed the placenta (the strangest feeling; you really are pushing against no resistance).
Until this point everything had gone better than we’d dared to imagine and we were so grateful for all the hypnobirthing tools we chose to use: the birthing preferences template, the up and down breathing, the affirmations, guided meditation. Immediately after the placenta delivery, however, I hemorrhaged three times and had a queried 3rd tear. I was fitted with a catheter and put on an oxytocin drip (which I had fought so hard to avoid prepartum) to encourage any remaining placenta fibers out, and an ambulance was called to transfer me to the hospital 18 mins away. This meant being separated from Theo and Mark having to put our 1hr old baby in the car seat to follow the ambulance.
Fortunately, the consultant deemed it a 2nd rather than 3rd degree and I was able to return to the MLU by midnight.
For me not using pain relief wasn’t about being a hero, it was about giving my baby a controlled and unadulterated entry into the world if possible which hypnobirthing gave me the confidence to do. For the record, once Theo had been delivered I hit the gas and air hard for those stitches!
A first time mom’s home birth in Burnsville, NC, USA
The Birth Story of Fern
written for her by mom, Eva
For the joy of my life, Fern,
You are now fifteen months old, nursing with an egg-yolk mustache around your mouth. There have been many times I have tried to type this story for you, but it has taken me this long because I can hardly take my eyes off of you. My love for you grows each day, and I have a feeling it will only continue to expand each day for the rest of my life. I could go on and on about the dreams before you were conceived, your parents' love story, or the extensive preparation in which I dedicated all of my waking hours to the hefty goal of healing ancestral traumas, breaking toxic cycles, setting solid boundaries to protect you like a fierce mama bear, not to mention the library of pregnancy and birth books I waded through… but I will save you that time until one day when you may be expecting yourself and you ask for all of that.
I recall my last bath with you inside, I washed my belly and said to you, “Take your time dear, because once you come out you cannot go inside again”.
The next evening out of nowhere, I felt a gentle wave wash over me as I walked through the kitchen. I had been sitting on the toilet awhile, feeling constipated, so denial told me perhaps I was just dizzy from that. My heart knew you were on your way, though. Another sensation came and I leaned onto the counter, probably looking a bit bewildered. Your father asked if I was okay and I said yes as I snuck to check the time to see if these overtakings were consistent.
He suggested we watch a movie together to relax (every night for weeks I insisted on deep cleaning the house for you before bed just in case that night was the night you arrived). I have no recollection of what movie we put on, only that immediately after I sat down, I became possessed and my eyes rolled to the back of my skull. I rolled onto John’s chest and he asked if “it” was happening.
I said maybe, and that we must go to bed because I wanted to be rested for when I went into labor. Little did I admit, I was in the midst of it already. I called my midwife to tell her I was experiencing some new feelings and agreed to keep her updated. We got into bed around our normal nine o’clock hour and again, as soon as the lights were out and we kissed goodnight, power rushed through my womb. Still, I argued with nature for a moment trying to convince her I should get a power nap in.
The surges kept on and I breathed slowly and deeply through them while holding John’s hand. He said that maybe I should accept I was not going to sleep that night, and once I did, I hopped (well, more like slowly inched my walrus-like body) off the side of the bed and flipped the lights on.
I went to the bathroom as I had done ten times a night for many months, but this time I wiped away a bloody show. My face lit up and I shrieked, “It’s happening! It’s really happening!” I couldn’t stop smiling. My frustration flipped into sheer excitement in an instant. I called my midwife and she asked if I had timed my contractions. I hadn’t thought about doing that, so I got John to do so with the next few by saying “Ok” at the beginning and end of each rising, falling wave.
We updated Sharon that they were a bit all over the place, but mostly two minutes apart. She said she would’ve liked to have known when they were ten minutes apart. (We live an hour out into the country.) That was before I had even told John, so I laughed, then had another while still on the phone. She said she was on her way and that John could fill up the birthing pool.
I went into the living room where the woodstove was blazing and walked around aimlessly, leaning over the couch or my yoga ball during contractions. Meanwhile, John was flooding the sun room. Apparently, there were some water logistic issues I was not aware of. He was running around with tools in tow when I stood holding myself in the doorway and politely asked him to “get your shit together, because I can’t handle the both of you right now”. He promptly relaxed his body and responded, “I’m cool!”
I went back to the aimless wandering and began to panic, saying “I don’t know what to do”. This surprised John and me both, because I had been so confident up until this point. To be honest, I know this was my way of dramatizing so that John would understand that IT was REALLY happening… I had wanted just him around during labor… but it turned out to be a very lonely experience without another Mother there. Now, on a deeper level, I understand why throughout the history of humankind, women have attended births together. You want someone to know the intensity of what you are experiencing being torn apart.
Anyway, as soon as I heard Sharon pull up the dirt driveway in her old truck, the truck she’d been driving since she could drive, I put an end to the show. I smiled and breathed deeply again with ease just by the feminine presence, someone who really knows how I’m feeling. I had gone back to my comfy pillow fort on the bed by then. She gently stepped into the bedroom as I got into the birthing tub (which I had totally forgot was even there.)
Instantly, I sighed, Wooooowwww, this is ahhhmmaaazzinng. I wish every mama could have this water.” I thought the contractions had stopped, but it was just that the warm water was that relieving. John was making coffee and Sharon sat in a rocking chair behind me. I leaned back and rested my head on the edge of the pool, and Sharon touched my forehead with her palm as a gentle, silent “I’m here”.
Time began to distort here, and I transformed from a walrus into a mystical mermaid on heroine in that pool. I remember wanting to love on Sharon, and I told her that she has the most important job in the world, assisting babies coming earthside so gently. She said yes, that it was her way of saving the world.
As the saying goes, “Peace on earth begins at birth”.
She asked if I could feel my baby, and I put my index and middle finger down to my vulva. I felt the water bag right there, barely inside. Sharon said I could start pushing, so I figured I would try, though I didn’t feel ready. I was on my hands and knees in the pool and pushed with a few waves until the water bag popped. It startled me! I reached down again and my hand felt the holiest thing it’d ever felt, your hard, hairy head coming through me. That was a motivating moment. I said, “C’mon hairy!” With the next pushes, I figured out that by not letting any breath out of my mouth, all the energy would go down to push you further into the portal. Sharon placed her hand on my perineum so I could feel where to direct the energy to. I realized this was the only time that either one of them had touched me throughout labor, besides a palm on my forehead, and I was grateful.
Between rushes, I would give John a look that he knew meant to give me a sip of my drink (a quenching ginger lemonade I had proudly made when I was in that first denial stage of labor). Once, I asked him to pour water over my back because I thought that would feel nice. I assumed he would pour from my warm pool water, but he came from the sink and poured a glass of Feburary-cold spring water over me. We all laughed. I also remember cool rags soaked in lavender water and a spritz in the face with sage water I had prepared to be relieving between pushes. Sharon checked your heart rate with her little doppler over my belly since you had been hanging out in the birth canal for a bit and encouraged me to push.
I continued, and these times harder, and just when I thought I could not push any more, I did a little more with a grunt. You were bobbling back up after I got your head out a bit, stretching my perineum. I was tired, so I was frustrated that you were bobbling, but you knew what you were doing. I would take in as much air as I could, like you would when you were swimming underwater and wanted to stay down awhile, then I would push as hard as I could and bring my knees up to my ears and put my face under the water. I bet I looked like a crazy frog floating on top of that water.
Then it happened. I pushed until I had nothing left, then I pushed a little more, and out squeezed your head. I screamed like a wild baboon as you came out. That scared the poor old dog, who hopped up and ran into the corner, leaving the side of the pool for the first time since I got in. I will never forget that ring of fire, I could feel every inch of your precious head slowly squeezing through, your ears and your nose and finally your little lips and chin.
As you turned, so did I, over like a crab and the rest of your body shot out into the water. Sharon gently guided you through the water towards me and I took you into my arms. Pregnancy lasts through every season of the year to prepare you, yet when a baby comes out of your body, it is still a shock. Frankly, my first thought was, “How did all of you fit in there?!” Sharon asked John to look at the clock. It was 4:32 AM when you came out. This was about eight hours since I had my first suspicion that labor was ahead.
You were so peaceful, just staring into my soul silently. I was nervous holding something so close to God, but I mustered up the courage to whisper a welcome into your tiny ear as I kissed your soggy, wrinkled forehead, and I told you that you were safe here because I would protect you. I looked at John and saw tears in his eyes. This is the first and only time since I’ve seen him cry. He asked, “What is it?” I didn’t know what he meant and didn’t respond as I was taking you in, so Sharon followed up, “Yeah, Eva, what do you have?” It occurred to me I hadn’t checked your genitalia, so I looked to find that you were indeed a girl, just as I had known since the beginning, and shared the news of the proof of a daughter.
I smoothed vernix into your soft skin and gazed in awe at you between my breasts for half an hour. Sharon mentioned I may want to push again to birth our placenta, but I was worn out and said not yet. She said I should, so I complied. It came out with a tug from Sharon and slid into a silver mixing bowl that floated atop the water with us. Sharon felt around squishing the outside of my womb to make sure all of the placenta came out. This was all a bit uncomfortable and the only part of our birth experience that felt slightly manipulated. I think the foreign feeling was also the first physical separation of you and me. After some more time marinating in our afterbirth juices, Sharon clamped and cut your umbilical cord. You were officially able to go elsewhere… away from me. I released you into your fathers arms as I stood up and got out of the pool much lighter than when I got in.
My center of gravity had shifted… how odd it felt to have a vacant womb. Sharon walked to the bathroom with me and wiped blood off of my legs as I tried to pee. She left your vernix, though, saying it was the best moisturiser I would ever have. I smeared it deep into my thighs. We all walked into the bedroom together and I laid with John in the bed and held you at my breast.
We laid in the bed together for two hours before Sharon came in and asked to weigh you. You were seven pounds and fourteen ounces, twenty one inches long, with a thirteen centimeter around head. I saw the rising outside the window and said, “Is it the next day already?!” I didn’t know it then, but this was the first day that my heart began to live outside of my body.
With endless Love, Mama
A second time mom’s home birth in Hann. Münden, Germany
The Birth Story of Martha
told by her mom, Caro
I had my first daughter Johanna in summer 2017. It was a "normal" hospital birth - i didn't put too much thought in it. If you're having a baby you go to a hospital to deliver the baby, right? ;) And it was ok, I'm not traumatized or anything, but it just didn't feel right and very unpersonal so i wanted to do it differently the next time. 18 months later I was pregnant again and by then I knew I wanted a homebirth and a the midwife who would later deliver my baby by my side all through pregnancy.
2nd pregnancy harder than the first: lot of sickness in my first trimester , not a lot of rest because there was already a toddler keeping me busy.
More or less. I had my homebirth, but everything went a lot faster than i expected. Martha's head was already halfway born when my midwife arrived.
Around 11:30 I recognized my contractions came regularly about 10 minutes apart and i went down to the living room
Quick. The real pain started around 3 am and I woke up my husband Tom to set up everything for the birth. He asked me if he should call our midwife Theresa but I told him "nah, pain is not bad enough... she will laugh at me" at that point my contractions where less than 3 minutes apart... clearly I wasnt thinking straight. About 10 minutes later i told him to call her and that she had to hurry... right after tom hung up the phone my water broke and the pain started to be unbearable and i had to push. I screamed a lot the next 15-20 minutes. I was scared, because we were all by ourselves. My worst fear though was, that Johanna would wake up and come down or that Tom would have to go up to her room and leave me alone. When Theresa came around 3:45 Marthas head was halfway born and i was in a deep squat (?). She told me to stand up and with the next contraction my baby was born.
I felt really strong and relieved to have done it the way i wanted
Tom supported me throughout my pregnancy with my wish to homebirth, even though everyone else was calling me crazy.
Luckily we decided to have a homebirth, we wouldn't have made it in time to the next hospital (30 minutes by car... I wouldnt have left in time...)
This birth was the best experience of my life, I grew so much personally because of it
A first time moms birth centre/NICU transfer birth in Asheville, NC, USA
The Birth Story of Harlan
told by his mom, Erica
Pregnancy was pretty easy and great for me. I had just very mild nausea in the first trimester, but aside from that, I felt great. I felt strong and badass. I actually felt better than normal, as I have struggled with chronic pain and fatigue for the past 5 years, which all seemed to disappear while I was pregnant. We had no real bumps along the road in terms of our physical well-being. There was a bit of pre-baby stress and first-time parenting anxieties, but all in all, pregnancy was good for me.
Our due date was August 21st. The last day that I worked was August 22nd. We expected that baby would arrive a week or so after the due date, but took the time off of work, and were able to just relax a bit leading up to the birth. We were seeing the midwives regularly, taking lots of walks, eating lots of delicious food. Once we were a week past the due date, the midwives suggested that we start trying cervical sweeps to hopefully get things moving. I think at this point, we were going into the Birth Center daily.
I started having contractions on the 27th, mostly at night, that night, and again on the 28th. They were uncomfortable enough that I wasn't able to get much sleep, but not regular yet. On the 29th, we had a sweep in the afternoon, and Rani said, "we might be seeing you back here later tonight." We started feeling nervous and excited. We went for another walk, this time inside the mall, because I was hot and uncomfortable outside. I was having a lot of contractions at this point, but they still weren't regular. I started feeling not so great, so we decided to grab some soup and head home. When we got home, I was too nauseous to eat, and started feeling feverish.
We called Rani and she suggested that we come back down to the birth center. We brought our bags this time, just in case. As they checked my temperature and tried to get an IV in my arm to try to hydrate me a bit, my contractions started becoming more regular, and Rani and the nurses said they thought we were there for good at that point. I remember Rani saying something like, alright, we're doing this thing, might as well take your bra off and get comfortable. My temperature was normal once we were there, so not sure what caused the spike, but maybe I was just too hot from the temperature outside. We called MaryKate and let her know that things were starting to move faster toward labor. We got settled in and set up in the birthing room at the Birth Center. It was dimly lit and cool and I was feeling pretty good about things.
It was probably around 6:30 pm at this point, and we just started working our way around different options for laboring. Started by lying on the bed on my side with a peanut ball. We were hoping I could rest up a little at this point. I stayed on the bed for a while, but then felt the need to move around, so we did a few laps around the Birth Center, and then outside for a while. The time frame here all feels very fuzzy to me, but I think it had gotten pretty late by the time we went and walked around outside. Contractions were intense and consistent, and I was doing a lot of leaning on Matt and squeezing of his hand as the contractions came. At some point, we started filling up the birthing tub because I knew that was going to feel good to me. They let us know that it would take a while to fill and offered to get us set up in the shower, which we took them upon.
The shower felt amazzinggg. The water was so very hot, and Matt had the shower head directed on my lower back, which aided so much in pain relief. I think we stayed in the shower for a long time. MaryKate checked in on us, but we were good, so I think she sat down to rest a bit. The next bunch of hours all felt like a blur. In and out of the shower, in and out of the tub. Trying different positions on the bed. MaryKate offering counter pressure and essential oils like a little fairy. Laboring in the tub felt great, but Rani felt like it was relaxing me too much, so suggested we get back out and move around. It was early morning now. I was in some sort of weird haze, where I was aware of everything going on, but couldn't say much or be super involved in discussions. Matt says he was having a hard time seeing me in so much pain. I don't really remember the pain. I just remember everything feeling intense. Rani and Asha were in and out, checking on baby's heart rate and checking in to see if my body was feeling ready to push. I said I wasn't sure, which obviously meant that it was not ready. Things went on like this for a while longer. I was stalled out at 8cm dilated for hours.
Around 8 am, there was a shift change at the birth center. Melissa and Jenna came in and Rani and Asha were able to go get some rest. Melissa and Jenna came in with such bright energy, which we were all desperately needing. Melissa immediately started trying all sorts of new laboring positions and was like "we need to get this baby moving." I just wanted to stay in the tub and relax, but that wasn't an option at this point. We were squatting and rebozo-ing and laboring on the toilet, moving around like crazy. Then baby's heart rate started fluctuating, and things got super serious. We tried a new position, laying on my side with the peanut ball, and baby did not like this. It was starting to get scary. Jenna kept checking baby's heart, and it would be ok, and then not ok. I started pushing at some point in here. They gave me an oxygen mask and said that baby needing help getting extra oxygen from me. We moved back to the toilet to labor. I couldn't keep the oxygen mask on, I felt like it was suffocating me. This stretch was super scary and intense. I snapped back in from whatever labor lull I had been in overnight and was super tuned in to the preparations the team seemed to be making as things were not going well. I was sitting on the toilet for a few pushes and knew baby was almost born. Matt had one of my hands and I think MaryKate had the other. It was around 11 am when baby's head was born and Melissa started to say "next push he will be out," but there was no next push, he just came all the way out right after the head. And Melissa's face told me everything we were dreading. Baby was not ok.
They handed him to me while still on the toilet and said, he's not breathing, sometimes when they get on mama's chest, they wills start breathing. He was blue. I was rubbing his back and begging him to take a breath. They picked up the emergency phone and called "code apgar" to the hospital. They had to cut the cord and get him over to the table. Things get blurry here for a few. Then the fire department arrived and started trying to work on getting baby some oxygen. Jenna and MaryKate helped me get back to the bed, where I stared all what felt like a thousand fire fighters and then emt's trying to save my baby. They loaded him up in an ambulance, and Matt came over to me and said something like "do I stay with you or go with him?" I said please stay with the baby, and off they went. I needed to deliver the placenta and get bandaged up before I could follow them to the hospital. My dad and stepmom showed up at the Birth Center. Matt must have called them. I told them that I was fine and to get to the hospital to check on baby.
Another ambulance showed up to bring me to the hospital. The hospital was blindingly bright and bracingly busy. I was brought to a room, along with MaryKate and Melissa, and Melissa worked on getting me stitched up from some tearing. At some point shortly after that, a doctor from the NICU came down to talk to me. I'm not sure how long it had been, but it felt like hours since I had seen my baby. He was very straightforward and did not tiptoe around the seriousness of what was happening with Harlan (baby.) We started calling him Harlan at this point, we had been keeping his name a secret. The NICU doctor explained that Harlan had HIE (lack of oxygen to the brain) and they were initiating a treatment of cooling his body temperature down in order to hopefully prevent any permanent brain damage. He was careful to say that we did not know how things were going to go, and explained everything to me in as much detail as possible. He had been strictly professional, but as he was getting ready to head back out, he got personal with me and said something like, I have a new baby at home, and I cannot imagine what you are going through, but I am going to do everything I can to take care of your baby.
I was finally able to go up to the NICU after a bit, and once I got there, I just wept. Harlan was hooked up to a million machines and I just wanted to hold him. The NICU nurses explained to us that we could not touch or talk to Harlan, because they needed his brain to have as little stimulation as possible. Nothing made sense. This was not how things were supposed to go. I should be holding him, and nursing him, and comforting him. It was torture. We weren't able to stay very long in the NICU. I think there was a shift change happening. I had to get checked in and admitted to my hospital room. The nurse there settled us in, and then said she would just give us some space to process. Matt and I were alone now. And we just cried. We were able to go see Harlan a few more times that night, but still no talking or touching.
Five very long days later, I finally got to hold my baby.
My postpartum was hard. I was in so much pain. I pushed myself way too hard, moving around the hospital, back and forth to the NICU. I experienced postpartum preeclampsia. It was scary.
Ten days after he was born, Harlan was released from the NICU. He was doing better than anyone expected, but an MRI of his brain did show that he suffered some brain damage during birth. We had a list of things to look out for.
We had really great support from the Birth Center postpartum. They checked on us every day while we were at the hospital. They made a house call to check on us the day after Harlan was released from the NICU. We were rattled. Jenna was the warmest and most caring presence in this visit.
We definitely struggled with breastfeeding and had several meetings with a lactation consultant to try and get that worked out. Harlan had been receiving IV nutrition, and then breast milk via bottles, while in the NICU, so making the switch to feeding straight from the breast was very difficult.
I cried a lot. I didn't feel like I was Harlan's safe place. I felt like there was a space between us that shouldn't be there. It was hard. I did not realize it at the time, but I was experiencing pretty severe PTSD. I think we had support systems around us that we did not know how to utilize. Things got easier with time, but this is a heavy story that I continue to carry.
Harlan is thriving. We survived. We did hard things.
My only words of wisdom for other moms is, “You can do hard things.”
Harlan is almost two years old now. This is the first time I am writing this all out. Thank you for giving me an opportunity to do this.
all photos taken by our doula MaryKate
