Imperfect Catholic Mama

Introduction  

Every pregnancy and birth has taught me an important life lesson. I’ve had a different prominent fear and a lesson to learn from each one. The genius of birth is that we never know what God will teach us, but one thing I’ve come to be sure of is that He will push me past my comfort zone and ask me to be a little more introspective and open to His lessons. Though now expecting my third, I will say that while the nuances of the lessons He’s taught and is teaching me are different, what I need to learn is the same: To surrender to Him and His Sovereignty. 

Lesson one

When I was pregnant with my first we were scared that we would miscarry her. This was a prominent fear of mine from the moment I saw those two lines on the test. I was constantly anxious about what I was doing and scared of doing something that would harm my baby. Living with this amount of anxiety isn’t very fun, so I was thankfully slapped awake and realized that I had no control. Yes, I could do things to mitigate this risk, but ultimately if I was taking care of myself the best way I knew how, and striving to educate myself further on how to care for myself and my in-utero baby, then the rest was up to God. 

Later on during this pregnancy, I woke up in the middle of the night to go pee. I saw a blood clot fall into the toilet and called my husband in fear. He came running into the bathroom and I said “I think I’m having a miscarriage”. Immediately he wanted to go to the ER. I didn’t see the point, what could they do? But he wanted to go. As we were leaving I glanced towards the bed and saw another blood clot around the size of my palm, lying where I had been peacefully sleeping a mere 15 minutes prior.  

That 5-minute drive to the hospital was the longest drive of my life. My husband and I were silent, each trying to pray but having nothing more to silently say than “Please God, let this baby be alive”. 

She was still alive. But I had a bleed in my uterus, a subchorionic hemorrhage, which was the size of my little 6 cm baby, and therefore I was at high risk for a miscarriage. There was nothing we could do except pray and wait to see what happened. During that pregnancy, I realized that this baby was not mine and thus I had no entitlement to her. She was, and is, ultimately God’s child, and He has merely given her to me to care for, be that 14 weeks in utero, 10 weeks after birth, 10 years, or till I die and can no longer. If God wanted to take my baby home to Him, that was his right; He created her, and He could call her home anytime. I had no right to keep her. And no control over it either. 

Through that period of my pregnancy, I learned to give my daughter’s life over to God. As the pregnancy progressed and the risk of miscarriage lessened I began to anticipate and prepare for her arrival. 

Having come to peace with my biggest fear, miscarrying my baby, I was ready to birth this baby. And I’m forever grateful that I get to hold that little girl in my arms to this day. (Read her birth story here)

Lesson Two

With my second it was a different fear and (slightly different) lesson. I was thrilled to be planning a home birth with my second. My biggest fear was that I would have to transfer to the hospital, either before labor began or after, for an “emergency” c-section due to the baby being breech. I don’t believe that a breeched baby warrants a c-section in every circumstance. But in the clinical setting, if the baby is breech it goes without question that you will have to have a c-section. In many States, a midwife is not permitted to legally attend a known breech birth, the mother must be transferred to a hospital for a c-section. This was the case in our then State of residence. 

Throughout this pregnancy, this was my biggest fear: that I would not get my home birth due to the baby being breech; that my home birth would be taken from me at the last minute due to a last-minute flip of the baby and an unnecessary restriction. There were a couple of other moms whom I knew this happened to during my pregnancy, and I knew, based on my health and history, that it was the most likely thing that would risk me out of having a home birth.

So, I once again did what I could. I did chiropractic care and tried to carry my body such that the baby would want to be in an ideal position, and not breech. But I once again ultimately had to leave it up to God. And it took me through the entirety of labor to surrender to God this time around. As my baby was oblique two days before labor, and in a funky position the day I went into labor (despite having seen the chiropractor less than 24 hrs prior), I realized that I had no control over my baby. As he seemingly did somersaults the night I labored, I had to surrender to Him my idea of controlling my baby’s position and the outcome of this birth. It was all in God’s hands. 

My baby was born at home, and he was born head first. Though to this day I’m not 100% convinced that he wasn’t breech at one point. (Click here for his story).

Lesson Three

And here I am, pregnant and preparing for the birth of my third. 

My biggest fear approaching this birth has been death. I’m not worried about needing to transfer and not getting “my home birth” like I was for my second. I’m not worried about a miscarriage like I was with my first. I’m worried about my baby dying. 

That after carrying him for nine months I won’t get to hear his little noises and hold his warm, live body in my arms after the hard work of labor. 

That he could die today and I would still have to endure the work of labor to birth a dead baby. 

That he could die 2, 3, 10 weeks after he’s born and be gone from me forever.  

This fear does not come from having a home birth, but because birth is risky. 

Risks of Life 

I have posited before that birth is not inherently dangerous. I’ve expressed frustration to almost anyone who knows me that the fear surrounding labor and birth is so prominent in our culture when it really shouldn’t be. I also believe that safety is the lowest standard women can have for birth and that we should expect more out of birth than just “mom and baby being safe”. When my mother-in-law asked what they could pray for, besides a safe birth, I almost bit her head off.  While I do desire safety for my baby and me, and even have fear about death, I have much higher standards than just safety for the outcome of my labor and the birth of my baby (namely that it be holy, happy, and healthy).

Further, I believe that this low standard ultimately says our culture believes birth to be inherently dangerous; All we should expect for an outcome is a living mother and baby. 

Birth shouldn’t be scary, and I wish women would, and could, stop fearing birth. 

But I don’t believe birth is inherently dangerous. However it is risky. 

What’s the difference? Well, inherently dangerous means that you will probably die, or that the best you should hope for is life. Risky means that it is not completely safe. Like most anything we do in life. 

For example, drunk driving is inherently dangerous. Driving without instruction or lessons is pretty high risk. But driving sober, when you’ve received proper instruction, is not inherently dangerous, just risky. 

While in college, doing risky activities such as climbing, rappelling, canyoneering, mountaineering, white-water rafting, kayaking, etc, we were continually told that the most dangerous thing we do is driving. 

Accidents, including but not limited to car accidents, are the third leading cause of death in America. 

Taking driving lessons and practicing can mitigate the risks of driving, and similarly, we can mitigate the risks of birth. 

A woman’s body is designed to give birth. When we support our body’s physiological design (like by caring for ourselves with nutrition and exercise, feeling safe and comfortable, being well supported, etc) birth tends to be very low-risk. 

But there is always the risk, in our fallen world, that things will not go as they are designed, or as we prepared, and mom or baby could die. And that’s what I mean by risky: we could die, though we won’t necessarily (nor is it even very likely). Further, being in a hospital with a trained doctor and ICU around the corner or being attended to at home by a certified midwife is not going to eliminate that risk. 

The Burden of Life and Death

We have no power over the life of our baby, or our own when it comes to labor and birth. Neither does the OB in the hospital. Or the midwife. Yes, these professionals have specialized training to help mitigate risks, but they don’t have control over life and death. That is not within their power. 

Being in a hospital or attended at home by a midwife is not going to ultimately keep you or your baby alive. Outside of comfort, safety, and a sense of safety (which are crucial elements for a laboring mother and not to be dismissed) the only thing an OB or Midwife brings to the table that you can’t do yourself is being a scapegoat for when mom or baby don’t make it. 

I know that’s a hot take but bear with me for a bit longer. 

Safety, Comfort, and a Sense of Safety. 

I’m not negating the role of comfort and safety these professionals can bring to a birth space. They can, and often do, have further training than yourself, which does bring added safety to the event. It’s like getting in a car driven by someone who has passed their test, or had 20 years of experience, as opposed to someone who has never driven. There can be a lower risk factor. 

These professionals can bring safety to a space, but even more importantly they bring a sense of safety and comfort. Feeling safe and comfortable while giving birth is huge! Looking at the physiological way mammals birth (humans included), it is crucial that we feel safe and comfortable. I don’t mean comfortable like “Oh, I could lay here and do this all day”, although that can sometimes be the case. I mean comfort in so far as having a sense of security; feeling safe and knowing you are not in danger. As humans, danger can take the shape of an unfamiliar place, unfamiliar faces, loud noises, bright lights, needles, etc. Or it might present as NOT being in a hospital. But regardless of where you feel safest, being so is fundamental to any birth in any place. 

Thus, having people to support women in the hard work of giving birth is not to be dismissed. A good support team brings a sense of safety and comfort to the laboring mother, as well as professional knowledge that you may not have. Simply having a midwife whom you feel cared for by and who can look after the placenta while you’re in your post-birth euphoria can be huge for a mother’s comfort. 

The Prudence of Free-birthing 

But, let’s say you learn what you need to know? Neonatal resuscitation, how to handle different emergencies, etc. And you are most comfortable being on “your own” (meaning not having a trained and/or certified professional present)? Having a midwife there will actually detract from your comfort and sense of safety. Is it imprudent to have an unattended home birth? A free birth, as they are commonly called? 

Only you can answer that question for yourself. But one thing I keep coming across is that when a mother is ready to accept with peace that God is the only one who has any control over life and death and can mentally accept with peace the worst possible outcome of birth (that of a baby and mom dying) then she is ready to free birth. 

Because no one, not the OB in the hospital, nor the midwife at home, or even yourself, has any control over life and death. God is the only one who has control over who lives and who dies.

Now I’m not saying you should have a free birth if you are able to accept the possibility of the worst outcome with peace. I’m not even saying you should do a home birth, (though I do feel very strongly that you will likely have a superior birthing experience at home than you will at a hospital, and want to ask: “Have you considered a home birth?”). 

What I am saying is that regardless of where you give birth or who you have, or don’t, attend your birth, we need to surrender this idea of control, this responsibility of life and death over to God. Don’t have the hospital birth cause they can “keep you all alive”. Don’t have a midwife at your home birth just to have a scapegoat for when the baby or mom doesn’t make it. Do it because you want the support and believe they will help you give birth comfortably and mitigate risks. Not because you’re afraid of death. 

Yes, there can be poorly trained or educated professionals. And I’m not saying do nothing and prepare in no way, but your midwife or doctor is not responsible for your, or your baby’s, life. Only God carries that responsibility. 

We can prepare ourselves physically, mentally and (most importantly) spiritually, for giving birth. But we can’t completely omit the risks; regardless of where we give birth or who we have supporting and attending us. 

Conclusion 

So where does this leave us? Where I find birth always leaves me: Surrender. We can’t fight the contractions, we can’t run away from the inevitable work of giving birth, and we can’t control life or death. Neither can our midwife or OB. Only God can. Once we see that, we can surrender our entire lives, and those of our loved ones, over to Him. 

When our spouse leaves for work, especially when the weather is less than ideal, we can surrender his life to God’s responsibility. 

When we kiss our babies goodbye and drive to work, adoration, or to run errands, we can trust that God will take care of them should you not return. As well as surrender to Him that we might not return. 

When we give birth. We can remove the overly heavy burden of life and death from ourselves and other humans and leave that responsibility with the One who can hold it. 

We never want to place burdens on others that they can’t carry. Be that expecting things from our spouse that he can’t give, our children to act more developmentally advanced than they are, or our midwife or OB to keep us and our babies alive. 

That is only for God to hold and carry. Whether I’m driving to the grocery store or birthing a baby, my life and the lives of my family members are in God’s hands, and His hand’s alone.