I freebirthed my second son on a hot summer day in 2018.
Freebirth, or unassisted birth, means birthing outside of the medical system, without a trained birth attendant. I decided, after months of deep research and unlearning of my fear surrounding birth, that this was how my baby and I would have the best chance at a safe, physiological birth. It was just my husband and me, and it was an experience that totally transformed me.
You might be thinking, but what if "something" went wrong? Well, I dug into that, what the "somethings" actually are. I learned their causes, their likelihood in an undisturbed birth (not very), how to prevent them, what to do if they happen, and when to seek assistance. I had a plan.
The more I learned, the more I felt that the risks were astronomically higher for me in a hospital - every intervention increased my likelihood of complications and decreased by chance at a physiological birth. Especially as someone having a vaginal birth after a cesarean (VBAC), it would be nearly impossible to not be met with fear, intervention and push-back at every turn. I would have to fight staff every step of the way to simply let my body do what it was designed to do - and I wasn’t going to do that. Early in my pregnancy I had actually hired a homebirth midwife, but our partnership didn’t pan out, and I was unable to find anyone else in my area. That’s when a light bulb went off and I started to research freebirth.
I wanted to birth undisturbed, which meant no one touching me, asking a million questions, intervening, placing an IV, putting me on a continuous monitor, no one confining me to bed. Undisturbed meant birthing my placenta on its own time (not necessarily within the 30 minute window a hospital will “allow”), without Pitocin or traction or someone pushing on my uterus through my abdomen. It meant that strangers wouldn't be in my birth space. It meant that I wouldn’t be put on a clock or refused food and water. It meant that I wouldn’t be subject to arbitrary hospital policies that are based on liability, not what's best for me and my baby. It meant that I would very likely avoid another unnecessary, traumatizing c-section.
I knew that as I neared my “due date” my OB would start talking about induction or a repeat c-section (since they had me sign a consent for anesthesia at my 8 WEEK APPOINTMENT), and I was not going to have that conversation. I had suffered years of PTSD, postpartum depression and postpartum anxiety as a direct result of my first, unnecessary c-section, and there was absolutely no way I would entertain that idea (outside of a dire emergency) again. At 35 weeks pregnant I stopped going to appointments and continued my care at home.
You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to take blood pressure, listen to the baby’s heartbeat, or use a urine dipstick. Without the anxiety caused by the anticipated battle at every appointment, I was able to enjoy my last days of pregnancy and get excited (rather than terrified) for my labor and birth.
After 38 hours of labor, I screamed my second son into warm water in the comfort of our home. No one separated us, poked us, or intervened. He entered the world calmly, rather than screaming as most babies do when they are forced into a cold, bright room. We slept that night, and every night since, side-by-side.