Collin's Birth

The Birth Story of Collin Patrick Maloney

After my first two children had been born at 41 weeks, I was fully expecting my third pregnancy to go past its due date as well. I was prepared with plenty of activities to keep me busy those last couple of weeks and still had tasks to do on the to-do list. Having a due date of February 28, I had just been telling people “early March” since the beginning to try to keep the stress down as I fully expected my due date to come and go with a baby still inside. However, there was a little voice inside me that said, “maybe this baby won’t be late. What if he came early?” I couldn’t tell if it was some sort of intuition or just wishful thinking (my hips were quite sore towards the end!), so I kept that idea to myself and just kept plugging away. However, as February came around, the nesting instinct kicked in more than it had in the past and Jonny and I spent a lot of time organizing and getting things ready around the house.

We had an appointment with our midwife, Rebecca, on Thursday February 19 after work. Everything looked good and right on target. She asked us, “Are you getting anxious to have this baby?” to which we replied, “Just let us get through this weekend first. Jonny has a big paper and presentation for school that he needs to do. Then this baby can come whenever he is ready.”

The next day (Friday February 20), at 39 weeks exactly, I was having contractions throughout the day, starting when I woke up in the morning. I didn’t pay too much attention to them because I had been having contractions on and off for several days/weeks. These contractions were a bit more noticeable, but still mild and far apart. I complained to Jonny (at work) that they were annoying and I hoped they didn’t last for another two weeks til I went into “real” labor. The girls and I had a low key day at home, making some lactation cookie dough for the freezer and trying to get things cleaned up. The later the day got, the more urgency I felt to get the house clean. However, I wasn’t making progress fast enough as the kids were making messes and I was pausing for contractions while working.

Jonny got home from work around 4pm and I asked for his help to get the living room and kitchen clean. He was tired from a long day at work and felt like he was getting sick, but he joined in to put away toys and vacuum. After about a half hour of that, Jonny started to realize that I was pretty serious about it and asked if I might possibly be in labor. With tears in my eyes and feeling a little overwhelmed, I replied that I wasn’t sure, because neither of us could fathom the idea of having a baby at 39 weeks. At this point, Maggie (our 2 year old) had found a bucket of crayons and markers and was drawing all over herself and the wall. I started texting my neighbors to see if someone was available to watch the kids for an hour or two while we figured out if it was real labor. Jonny put the kids in a bath around 5pm and convinced me that maybe I should give my parents a heads up, since it was the plan for them to watch the kids during labor and birth.

I was really unsure if I wanted to send the kids away for the night, since I still thought it might be a false alarm, and the kids don’t usually do as well sleeping away from home (and hadn’t ever spent a night without me). So my dad (who was on his way home from a meeting in Green River) came here to play with the kids downstairs and my mom headed down from Ogden.

After Jonny gave the kids a bath, I took a nice hot shower, then locked myself in my bedroom and turned on relaxing music on Pandora (Steven Sharp Nelson channel) to cope with contractions and decide what to do. I texted, and then called Rebecca around 6:30  to let her know what was going on.  We decided we didn’t need her to come just yet, but we wanted her to be aware that we might need her that night.

Jonny got the kids bathed, in jammies, and made them some food while my dad entertained them downstairs. My mom showed up around 7, expecting to watch the kids at our house, but by the time she arrived, I was ready for the kids to go so I could have Jonny’s full attention. They got ready to go, and at quarter to eight as they were leaving, I let Rebecca know that we wanted her to come.

With the kids taken care of, Jonny sprang into action to get the birth tub set up and take care of my needs. I labored near him as he worked, kneeling on the floor leaning over the birth ball. Rebecca arrived at 8:30 and I was excited to get into the tub and accept the relief it offered, even though the water level was quite low still.

When I got into the tub, I labored sitting up, leaning back against the side of the tub, for quite a while. At this point, I felt like I slowed the intensity down a little bit (the water calming me down and getting into a position that wasn’t putting as much downward pressure) and we took a few moments to breathe and take in the fact that we were actually going to have a baby that night, which was still unbelievable to us! We discussed what we would name him, joking that maybe if we named him Sean (one of our top contender names), Jonny’s professor (Shaun) would give him a break on his assignment that was due. The other top name was Collin. A nickname for Collin (in the baby name book) was Cub, which I called him as I talked to him during labor.

We continued to add more warm water  as it was available (had to wait for the water heater tank to fill up again, so Rebecca boiled some water on the stove to supplement with) and Rebecca monitored my vitals and the baby’s heart beat. Everyone was doing really well. I switched positions and tried kneeling, resting my head and arms on the side of the tub. That position made labor more intense as it helped the baby continue to rotate and move down through my pelvis.

Rebecca reminded me that all over the world, women were doing exactly what I was doing, that we were sharing in this sisterhood of labor. I remember being filled with gratitude at that moment, and saying, “and I’m one of the lucky ones.” I was so grateful to be in a safe, comfortable, loving environment with an awesome husband by my side and a competent caring midwife monitoring the safety of myself and my baby. There was only love and joy and peace in our birth, no stress or anger or fear. Our baby was healthy and we had a safe loving home waiting to welcome him.

I started pushing as the pressure got lower and lower and at 10:22, my waters broke. At this point, I was expecting him to be born immediately since my girls were born within 1-2 minutes after the water breaking. He needed to move down a bit more though, and it took a few minutes for his head to be born. Everyone was excited that they could see that he had lots of hair. After his head was born, it took a minute for the rest of his body to be born, as he wasn’t rotating all the way, so I asked Rebecca to help him a bit. He was born at 10:28 pm and we were instantly in love! I was able to bring him right up to my chest as his cord wasn’t wrapped around him at all. His face was puckery and his eyes were squeezed shut as his vernix-covered body stretched out for the first time outside the womb. It took him a minute to start crying (although the cord was still giving him plenty of oxygenated blood so he was fine) as we talked to him and rubbed his skin. Once he had that first gurgly cry, he didn’t stop talking the rest of the night!

After bonding in the tub with him for a bit (and waiting for the cord to stop pulsating), Rebecca helped Jonny cut the cord and gave him the baby to hold while I moved to the bed. The placenta was slow to deliver, and our baby wasn’t quite ready to latch on (still working out fluid in his nose), so I got a shot of pitocin to try to help move things along. Even with that, it still wasn’t coming along very quickly. I was starting to get stressed that I was going to require a catheter (as a full bladder can inhibit the delivery of the placenta) or further interventions, so I asked Jonny to say a prayer that things would continue to go as smoothly as they had, and I would be able to deliver the placenta and be able to enjoy snuggling my boy! Gratefully, after that, the large placenta was delivered and the bleeding was minimal.

We finally weighed our baby boy and it was announced that he was 9 lb 1 oz and 21.5 inches. I felt so grateful to have delivered a 9lb baby and have no stitches needed! Rebecca gave him a full checkup and everything looked great! We put him in his first outfit (newborn-sized froggie jammies that we then decided were too small for our big boy!) and took lots of pictures and enjoyed snuggling with him. All night that first night he just purred and whimpered with every breath, which was so sweet. Once he got the hang of latching on, he was a great nurser. We enjoyed the quiet night with just us and our little boy, but we were anxious to introduce him to his sisters, who came back the next day mid-day. They thought he was pretty cute, and then the chaos of having three kids began! :) It took us a few days to “officially” decide, but we decided to name him Collin Patrick Maloney. And he is very loved by his parents, sisters, grandparents, and so many more!

and an updated photo (now 3 mo old):

A Birth Center Birth Story

I am so grateful today to be able to share an incredible birth story from a beautiful family. Thank you for sharing in your words your experience!



New Year’s Eve 2012. I had an evening of errands and a little cleaning planned while Andrew worked . . . errands that included picking up one or two ‘girly’ clothing items for the baby, in the case that our little ‘he or she’ was the latter. Our baby’s room seemed fully stocked with gender neutral clothing (maybe even a little heavy on the blue), but I had some gender biased notion that bringing a baby girl home dressed like ‘girl’ would be sweet. I washed and packed away the new little outfit into our only packed-for-the-birth-center bag (no need to have anything else ready to go yet, right, as this baby was staying in until our due date . . . or so we naïvely thought). Time to finally wash the kitchen floor (a task I had put off for at least two weeks; bending and scrubbing and a nice sized baby bump just didn’t seem to go hand in hand, so I procrastinated). But the Lucian hair was starting to collect in the corners (the dog that didn’t shed a wink for the first year of his life seems to have become your standard d-o-g, shedding and all). I don’t think I had even really started the sweeping when I started feeling a little uncomfortable . . . general tightening (like the Braxton-Hicks we’d been feeling for months, but actually somewhat ‘painful’). Maybe I wasn’t paying attention during our wonderful childbirth class, but I couldn’t remember what an early stage labor contraction was supposed to feel like. I figured this sensation was just the result of a little dehydration, opened a coconut water and went back to cleaning, pausing every once and awhile to rub my very tight, uncomfortable belly. I won’t claim to have done a solid job cleaning that floor (by the end of the short cleaning session, the waves of tightening were fairly strong, but I was clearly in denial). By 8:30pm or so, Lucian and I were snuggled on the couch, watching Enchanted (half-heartedly) and catching up on some emails, waiting for Andrew to get home from work. I played around with baby names (we still hadn’t settled and our ‘top five’ girls list was still a ‘top fifteen’ or so) and started dinner. Andrew came home at around 9:30 or so, and I distinctly remember saying “don’t worry, I don’t think it’s labor, but I’m feeling a little weird and it’s kind of regular” . . . He and I both figured that these came on too quickly, not strong enough, and too regularly (what were we thinking?! Wouldn’t regularity be a clue?) for them to be actual labor. We thought I would drink some water, get some sleep and by morning we’d be back to normal. Silly kids! We did sit down and figure out our top five girl names . . . my “just in case” instinct. I didn’t make it until “Happy New Years!”, but instead headed up to bed at about 11:30 to try to sleep. No such luck. I downloaded a little contraction timer and squirmed around in our bed, timing these now significantly uncomfortable contractions. Significantly uncomfortable might be downplaying it, but I had nothing to compare these to, and I figured ‘real’ labor would be excruciating. I googled ‘early labor’ and saw story after story of ‘false labor’ (we call it ‘practice labor’, which I much prefer). Nonetheless, the contractions continued . . . averaging about 50 to 60 seconds, every two and a half to three minutes. I know, I know . . . looking back on this, it seems silly that we didn’t recognize this as labor-labor, but I’ve been so mellow this whole pregnancy (part of the reason I thought it might be a girl), it kind of was par for the course for us to brush aside these strong, frequent contractions. Andrew went to bed a little after midnight (as we joked, “you ready for a baby?!”) and I tried to sleep. No such luck (again). I wandered around the house, pausing every two minutes or so to crouch/squat on the floor and hang my belly in between my legs (trying to relax into the contraction). It was strong, but the ‘go with it’, ‘ride the waves’, ‘this is only temporary’, and ‘I’m not alone . . . think of all the women in the world that are going through this in their own way right now’ mantras were helpful. I ran a bath, thinking that would slow things down . . . Nope! Time seemed to go by both quickly and slowly as I passed through the house, followed by Lucian’s watchful eye. I was trying to eat small things (kefir, fruit leather, a cliff bar . . . ) between contractions and drink plenty of liquids. When I’d pause on the floor, Lucian would check on me. It was comforting to have ‘someone’ to share this crazy (difficult?) movement through time with and I had no need to wake Andrew (at this point I was pretty sure the labor was for real). I figured it was best to let him rest while he could. By 4:15 in the morning, the contractions were unbelievably strong (I had one minor breakdown on the living room floor, thinking ‘woah, what did I get myself into’, but it lasted through one contraction . . . I refocused on all the positives – we get to meet our little one soon! -- and it set me in motion to get Andrew). Climbing the stairs and getting to our bedroom took another two contractions, and then I worked through another on our bedroom floor before I was able to get Andrew from bed. “I think it’s really time to call Becky . . . “ (our midwife on duty). She’s beyond well versed and I think she could tell we needed to head on into the birth center. We (Andrew) told her we’d be there in about 45 minutes and then Andrew had to race around the house to get our labor bags finalized. I had all these wonderful labor snacks and goodies and toiletries ready to go, thinking we’d be laboring at our birth center for hours . . . hmm . . . is it foreshadowing to just come out and say that all this running around to gather things was highly unnecessary?

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Easily the worst part of the evening was the car ride to the birth center (all of nearly 10 minutes). I couldn’t sit through a contraction at home (why hospitals make women labor in a lying/sitting position is beyond me . . . these were by far the most painful positions) so sitting through contractions in a moving vehicle was not looking to be very promising. We zipped (. . . did I say ‘zipped’? I meant wobbled . . . waddled . . . swayed . . . ) out of our house at about 5:30am on New Year’s Day . . . the air was beyond crisp (in the low teens and snowing on and off) and the streets were beautifully quiet. I felt kind of like a drunk passenger (all the twinkling lights and kind of unaware of where in the drive we were, even though it’s a drive we know so well). Only one red light . . . and Andrew drove plenty fast enough to make me feel safe. Still, I started to feel a slight need to push as we sped down 9th South and neared the birth center. If I was in a state of mind to think clearly, I would have recognized this as ‘transition’, but I was so focused on moving with and through each contraction that the idea of ‘stages’ didn’t occur to me. I climbed out of the car and ended up having a contraction on the pavement (thinking “I’m not the first one to do this!”). The icy cool of the pavement felt nice and real (out of this weird car ride dream world) and it grounded me. Becky let us into the warm, dim birthing room (one more contraction on the floor) and had me checked for dilation . . . 8 and a half centimeters dilated! I think even she was surprised. Excuse my bragging . . . Most first time mums don’t make it to 8.5cm while laboring at home (in the U.S.). Becky had the birthing tub (gorgeous ritzy hotel grade Jacuzzi tub) drawn and ready for me and I couldn’t have jumped in quickly enough. Baths have always been my place of calm, comfort and focus. It was almost simple and second nature to climb in and the urge to push was almost immediate. I felt completely empowered, as our midwife and birth attendant stepped back and let me do what my body was made to do. Every once and awhile she would remind me to move with the waves (contractions) or slow down (I had the same urgency to get this little mystery child out as this little wonder baby had to be out)! I guess we worked together, this little one and I . . . The pushing was the most comforting part (not really painful until the final two pushes, just strenuous and overpowering). Every part of this labor has its purpose and when you’re finally able to feel and see what you have been waiting all these months (years!) for . . . that becomes an easy focal point. *For those that think I’m being silly by saying the pushing wasn’t painful -- It was the contractions prior to the urge to push that were painful, don’t be mistaken!

No more than 40 minutes in the tub, pushing through contractions and she was in my arms. Becky asked if we’d like to catch her and, of course, I had been waiting my whole life for this so I was pleased that our little baby popped right out (head and elbow/arm first) and I carried her up onto my chest. She came out in the same pose she spent much of her ‘in the belly time’ in . . . One hand up by her face. In fact, as I type, she is lying across my chest/belly, body splayed open (‘yay, I can finally stretch out!’) with one hand pressed against her face.

We were in such a moment of disbelief and shock and elation that we forgot to even check whether she (yes, she!) was a boy or a girl! Finally I flipped her around and Andrew said “girl!” (he was right all along) and we just stared at her and stroked her. The water suddenly felt much cooler than it had (I was a little heater through the labor) and we covered her in a warm, wet towel, placed a little hat on her sweet head (little reddish blonde hair!) and spent about 15 minutes snuggled in the bath. Papa Andrew took some photos and then took our little yet-unnamed bundle from me to hold. I was still in a state of awe, but seeing him hold her for the first time (like a natural father!) was beyond incredible. He stared at her melted (and it’s been that way ever since). I climbed out of the tub and was given a shot in the leg (wee!) and was situated on the bed so that Becky could check bleeding and for tears. No perennial tearing (thankfully, as with the speed she came out, I think they were expecting a little something), but the little warrior with her elbow up through the birth did a little deep scratch internally, so they quickly gave me a couple stitches (my first!) and then brought our little girl back to me for her first non-placenta-umbilical meal J We did a little kangaroo snuggling, skin to skin, as she fed. Andrew climbed onto the big bed with us and we got to lay there and bask in her sweetness. It was wonderful to be left alone for our first time as a family (minus little Lucian who was exhausted at home after being my labor doula). We spent about an hour there, just snuggled together, and then Becky and Megan (the birth attendant) came back to do some vitals, check on our daughter (our daughter!!!!) and make sure I was able to get up and pee (no problems there . . . adrenaline is this incredible, natural drug). Baby girl Philp was weighed (7lbs. 0oz.) and measured (19in. long . . . much of it in her skinny – but strong – little legs). We watched as they gracefully checked her over (all while in our birthing room), with barely a peep as she was given her first little shot (braver than her Mama, already).

I watched as Andrew gave the sweet little thing her first bath (back into the water she went!) and she barely fussed as she entered the water . . . So calm. We kept looking at each other and saying “she is SO good . . . she is SO amazing . . . she is SO incredible . . . “ Maybe the midwives say it to all new parents, but they were pretty impressed with her easiness (and the quick, seemingly scripted labor).

We got our little girl bundled and snuggled up again . . . time drifted by and we were checked a few more times before given the okay to pack up and head out into our world for the first time as a little family of 3 (Lucian just kicked me in his sleep to remind me we were already a family of 3 and I should correct myself). J Not a whimper as she was strapped into her car seat and carried out into what became a bright, crisp New Year’s Day. By 1:00pm we were on the road and on our way home to begin this new adventure!

I have this strange notion of entering the birth center as just two people and leaving as three . . . Enter with baby in belly, leave with baby in arms. It’s like the birth center was this strange portal through which our daughter came into this world. It will always be a special place for us (and I can’t say more good things about our experience with a natural birth)!

More on our first day home, when I get the chance to write. I’m passing little Malin (she remained nameless until late-afternoon on her first day) off to Andrew so I can get dinner and then get Malin her dinner. We’re in a blissful world of newborn love, adventure and learning. So thankful for all the friends and family and new friends and new family that have guided us through this journey and will be there for us through this next chapter. 2012 was a year of blessings and 2013 started out to be the year of miracles (in the most natural sense of the word).

Love,

A very happy Mama

Maggie's Birth Story

Disclaimer: There is no way to put the experience of giving birth into words. It's indescribable. However, I think it is very important to try to put the memory into words to preserve it. Every detail sticks out to me- that's why this is so long. :) 

Lovely. If there was one word to describe Maggie’s birth experience, that’s the word I would choose. Granted, there were moments of great intensity (more on that later), but now, nearly 2 weeks later, when I reflect on the experience, the overwhelming feeling is just how lovely and enjoyable the whole thing was!

Wednesday, January 9, 2013 I went to bed pretty early and slept well for hours. At 2:30am I woke up to go to the bathroom and was too uncomfortable to go back to sleep. Afraid this was just another in a long series of false alarms, I decided not to wake my husband, Jonny, but tried to rest on the couch, distracting myself by watching a show. At 4:30am, the contractions started to get more intense than they had in the days before.  Instead of just pressure and tightening, they actually felt like they were creating change in my body. I was thrilled, but tried not to get myself over-excited in case they stopped again. I woke Jonny and he helped me work through contractions as I swayed on the birth ball while he reviewed laboring position videos from ibirth. We lit candles and went back to relaxing on the couch.  At that point, the contractions seemed to slow a bit, and I was so scared they would stop. At ten days past my due date, I was ready for real labor! The contractions didn’t stop, and I tried to embrace each one, welcome the intensity and ask for more. As I had been with my first labor, I was in complete awe of what my body was doing on its own.

At 6:30am, our two year old little girl, Molly, woke up, hours before she would usually wake up! She wanted “milk-side” (morning nursing), which turned out to be very effective in increasing the consistency and intensity of my contractions. We then stayed in bed with her for almost an hour, cuddling and enjoying what we realized might be our last time with her as our only little girl. Finally, I decided I needed to get out of bed to cope with the contractions and we got up to make breakfast.

Around 7:30am we sent Molly across the street to our wonderful neighbors’ house to play with her friends. She was so excited to get to go play with them that she wasn’t sad to leave us at all, but I remember giving her a big hug and thinking about how grown-up she was getting.

Molly stayed at their house for about two hours until we decided that these contractions were probably turning into real labor. The pattern wasn’t always consistent, but they weren’t stopping. In between, I would doubt that it was actual labor, but then a contraction would knock my socks off! We called Molly’s  grandparents to come pick her up for the rest of the day (or however long labor took). They brought us food and took Molly home with them.

We continued to enjoy laboring together, using the birth ball, the bed, the bathroom, the kitchen counters (loved the height and stability of the kitchen counter- it was ideal!), etc. Around noon we let the midwife know that we thought we’d need her to come, but not for a little while still. We ended up having her come around 2:45pm, which was when the snowstorm really started. It was so nice not to have to worry about driving anywhere as the snow came down harder and harder.

When Rebecca, our midwife, arrived, she set up her supplies, took my vitals, listened to the baby, and helped fill our birth pool. The contractions were still manageable, but felt very productive. In between contractions I was able to enjoy chatting with Jonny and Rebecca. I was still excited to be in labor, but had to work a bit more to relax through contractions.  At some point, Rebecca offered to give me an herbal mixture (cohosh)or break my water to encourage things along faster, but I felt like everything was happening at just the right speed and I wanted to let my body do what it was going to do as long as things were going well. In the end, I was able to birth my baby with no interventions- I didn’t even have vaginal exams because everything was going well and I didn’t feel like it would be helpful/necessary. I felt so fortunate to be supported by Jonny and Rebecca, who both trusted my body, the birth process, and kept a watchful eye on us for safety. I knew in their hands I didn’t have to worry but could totally give in to what my body was doing.

Around 4:30 or 5pm, I got in the birth pool and the warm water felt amazing. The contractions seemed to spread out just a little bit, but were very intense when they came on. I started to feel pressure and knew that before too long I’d be ready to push. After one more trip to the bathroom, I settled again into the tub and started to feel a bit “pushy” through contractions. I started talking aloud to my baby, letting her know that I was ready to meet her, and I was ready to be DONE…done with pregnancy and done with labor, that I just wanted to hold her and be done.  This is where I got pretty pathetic..and pretty noisy J. 

The power of the contractions overwhelmed me and my “mama bear” instincts came out as I roared through the last few pushing contractions. My bag of waters burst at 5:57pm as I pushed and I felt a gush into the water and a bit of relief from the pressure. That moment of relief was followed quickly by another incredibly powerful contraction and I hit that moment when I wasn’t sure I could handle it any more- and then all in one motion, at 5:59pm, our perfect daughter was born into the water.  It happened so fast I don’t even remember her crowning- it was just over in an instant and there she was!

I was so overwhelmed as I went to pick her up I didn’t realize I was kneeling on her cord, so I had to reposition myself and I sat back as I lifted her out of the water to my chest. Her cord was pretty short, so she just barely reached my chest. I held her in the water with a warm towel and her daddy and I just admired her and told her how happy we were to meet her. It was just such a lovely, perfect moment. Her eyes were closed, so we turned off the lights and she opened them to look up at us. She snuggled right into my chest and immediately attempted to latch on.

Meanwhile, Rebecca was unobtrusively checking the baby (all while I was holding her). Everything checked out wonderfully. After the cord was done pulsing, Rebecca clamped it and Jonny cut it. Since the placenta wasn’t delivering quite yet, I moved to the bed to continue to nurse the baby, who we’d decided to name Maggie until the placenta delivered.

We were thrilled to announce Maggie’s arrival and sent out messages to our families of her arrival. I was able to take a wonderful shower and get all settled in my own bed! Rebecca got me all set up and did the newborn exam on Maggie. She had all the indicators of a 40 week baby, which made me glad we hadn’t tried to induce before she was ready.

Rebecca finished and left around 9pm (taking all the supplies with her- you couldn’t tell we had a baby in our living room!) and Molly’s grandparents (who had braved the stormy weather and slick roads) brought her back around 9:30pm. Molly was so excited to meet her little sister! It was a special moment for our little family. We all ate some food and went to bed (well, as much as you do with a newborn…we were awake half the night, but were so happy to gaze at our little girl that we didn’t mind being awake). 

Surround Yourself

Have you ever gotten really excited about something, then shared it with the wrong person, only to have your idea shot down? There's nothing like the feeling of going from totally pumped up to completely deflated.

On the other side of the coin, have you ever been excited to try something, then found a friend (or a group) who was very supportive of you? Maybe they were even a bit further down that path and could give you advice and cheer you on? It can make the biggest difference in your success.

The same is true in pregnancy, childbirth, and parenthood. It is crucial to surround yourself with support for success.

In pregnancy, women must search out and find a supportive care provider who shares their view of an ideal birth, whether that person is a midwife, and ob-gyn, or a family practice physician. 

Also, couples should attend childbirth education classes, where they are given support in making decisions for their new family, and are surrounded by other couples in the same situation. This support is especially essential for those who are planning a natural birth and need to have support from people who understand the value of that experience (instead of the doubting comments from that coworker who says, "Just wait until you are in labor. Then you'll be begging for the epidural." Or, "a home birth? Are you crazy?!?"). Childbirth education helps to inform, prepare, and empower couples to achieve the best birth experience possible. 

Note, however, that no one can completely predict or control their birth experience- but by having support and education, that birth can be a positive experience, no matter how it turns out. In pregnancy, surrounding yourself with support can help you to be healthier, more positive about your birth experience, and better prepared for birth.

In childbirth, having a support person (or people), such as a supportive husband, partner, doula, or friend, can actually increase the likelihood of a satisfying vaginal birth experience and decrease the likelihood of necessary interventions. According to a study published by the World Health Organization, 

"The review demonstrates that women who receive continuous, one-to-one support are less likely to have regional analgesia/anaesthesia, operative vaginal birth, caesarean section.....In addition, women were more likely to have a spontaneous vaginal birth and less likely to report dissatisfaction with the childbirth experience" 

Check out this page from Childbirth Connection for more evidence about the importance of labor support.

Surrounding yourself with support during labor can make a difference by increasing your satisfaction with the birth experience, which will help you to have a better start as a new family.

In parenthood, it can be easy to get confused and frustrated by all of the different parenting philosophies and challenges. I encourage you, first, to surround yourself with support for breastfeeding, perhaps by attending  La Leche League meetings and activities. You may come to realize that the challenges you face today are totally normal and temporary. :) Or you may be given great ideas on how to overcome the challenges you are currently facing and enjoy your breastfeeding relationship even more.

Beyond breastfeeding, I encourage you to find a group (in person, online, even in books) that supports a parenting lifestyle you feel is best for your family. An example of virtual support is Progressive Parenting (a blog and online talk radio program). In some areas, there are meetings of Attachment Parenting International. Most places have some type of Mommy & Me group. If you can't find a group you feel comfortable with, maybe you can start one!

This past weekend I was able to gather for a few hours with some other natural childbirth teachers in the Salt Lake area, and it was such a great experience to discuss topics and share our enthusiasm with each other. I left feeling energized and excited. 

I encourage you to find people who lift you up in whatever situation you may be in. It doesn't mean you have to stop being friends with those who don't understand your birth or parenting goals. It just means that you set aside time to surround yourself with support! It will make the journey a bit easier; I promise. And, as you are being lifted by those around you....you're probably lifting them too!