Making a deposit in the birth account

"Preparing for childbirth seems sort of similar to training for a marathon."



I first wrote these words precisely one month ago today. It feels even more accurate now - literally days away from my due date (Friday July 11th for anyone keeping track). For the last 9 months I've been working out consistently - weight training, walking, running or practicing yoga. At first I did so because I didn't feel any different and thankfully I didn't have morning sickness to contend with. As the weeks passed, my motivation became more about keeping my energy levels up. And to be completely honest, I was increasingly wary of my changing shape. But somewhere at around the six month mark, working out became akin to training - training for the marathon that is birth. Whether you have a two hour delivery or a 24 hour labor, it is still a distance (mental and physical) that women travel.

I decided several months ago I wanted to have as natural a birth as possible. I have managed expectations that everything will go exactly as I've envisioned it, but nevertheless this is my training goal (my marathon goal is 4:15 and I've got managed expectations about that too!). I need my body to be in optimal condition to get me through. Each visit to the gym feels like a deposit into an account that I will draw from later. As I look back on the last few months, I also have pretty awesome memories of the activities the Babe and I have done together. We have:

1. completed the 4-mile Midnight Run on New Years Eve in Central Park
2. logged over 60 visits to my local New York Sports Club, where I...
3. must have clocked at least 40 hours on the eliptical machine
4. lapped the reservoir in Central Park more times than I can fathom
5. made lots of new mommy friends at YogaWorks in some of the most challenging and rewarding yoga classes I've ever taken

So, with that, I'm off to the gym ...

Who's your doula?

Sometime around January I started thinking about my birth plan. It was with a mix of trepidation, fear and excitement that I began to envision what it would all be like. It didn't really occur to me not to have a baby in a hospital. I sort of thought that is just what you did.

A couple of events took place in February that altered the course of my thinking. I attended a women's retreat where I met a labor support doula. Within minutes of our introduction, we were talking about the increasing rates of cesareans and pain medication during birth, and potentially what this meant for the mother and baby in the long run. I felt a little paralyzed with all this new information and all the choices I had to make. A small part of me thought I wasn't ready for motherhood at all because I didn't have strong opinions about the child birth process.

Not long after, I heard about the Ricki Lake's The Business of Being Born documentary, which profiles a few births and endeavors to reveal what's behind the changing nature of childbirth in the U.S. today. My husband and I were able to view the film shortly thereafter. It was, in a word, eye-opening, and not just for seeing Ricki Lake delivering her baby in the bathtub! (My husband, being perhaps the only guy in the audience, took this all in stride.) That feeling of paralysis gave way to empowerment and a pretty intense desire to know more. I read everything I could get my hands on - stats on the national rate of c-sections, stats on NYC hospital c-section rates, and on, until I was resolute to have a midwife. With my husband on board, I set out to find our PLA (personal labor assistant).

I called every midwifery practice in Manhattan. By this time (early April), many of the reputable midwives in the city were committed to delivering other healthy babies. I paid $100 for one midwife to tell me that my idea of a completely natural birth in a hospital setting (this was what we decided we wanted) was idealized and unrealistic. And while she was probably right, I hated her patronizing tone. We talked about having a home birth but the prospect of situating a birthing tub in our living area and not having space to move around seemed more stressful than being in a hospital bed.

I felt like I'd already failed and I hadn't even starting having Braxton Hicks. I ultimately let go and focused on being thankful that at least I could now make decisions from an informed standpoint.

Over the next few visits with my OB/GYN who I've been to for over 7 years, I realized that he was relatively accommodating to my requests (mainly no paid meds and to let me labor as long as medically feasible). In late April, we took a tour of the hospital where we are delivering and found the nurses very au natural, tremendous advocates of breastfeeding - seemingly just what we had hoped for.

Now it's practically June and as the Babe kicks harder and as the Pod is increasingly filled with pastel colored onesies, I'm realizing that in order to have my close-to-natural-as-possible child birth I'm going to need some serious help. My husband will be there every step of the way, but I really want a doula.

I found myself back in that place of paralysis where there is far too much information and far too many choices. DONA International lists some 20 different doulas in the city alone. So I did what any web 2.0 mother-to-be would do - I googled. I started googling every doula in New York City to see what reviews I could find (plenty in fact!). I also searched on Facebook and found several doulas in the city who I could connect with online.

While I haven't found our perfect PLA yet, I do feel one step closer and more sure of my opinions about child birth in general. And that, in and of itself, makes me feel slightly more ready for motherhood. At least for today.