I Fired My Birth Team at Eight Months Pregnant

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I was exactly 8 months pregnant when I decided to switch from a "traditional" hospital birth to a home birth.

The truth is, I had been toying with the idea of a home birth since before I got pregnant. I hate hospitals (does anyone like them?) and I wasn't overly thrilled at the idea of spending any time at one. Not to mention, the rules and restrictions were obnoxious, and even more so now that covid was a thing. Tests, masks, visitor restrictions - all things I did not want to deal with.

On top of that, I'm not as medically inclined as most people I know. I don't take medications, not even Tylenol or aspirin, and I generally opt for natural remedies and dietary handlings when anything goes wrong, physically. I don't particularly think of myself as a crunchy, granola person, but I guess I am, a little. 

In any case, doctors and hospitals are there to help with medical conditions and I don't consider pregnancy an illness.

All of that being said, it’s just what you do, right? You have babies at hospitals! Maybe a birthing center. But more likely a hospital. 

My best friend had her daughter at Yale and it went fine, so that's what I decided to do. Plus, isn't it smart to be in a medical facility in case something goes wrong? I mean, it’s my first baby… I don’t know what I’m doing… emergencies do happen… These were all the thoughts running around inside my head.

The Yale-affiliated OB/GYN practice I went to was a good medical facility. The place was clean, the front desk staff were friendly, most of the nurses, midwives and doctors were nice. Things were going fairly well, I thought.

My pregnancy was wonderfully uneventful. The baby's heartbeat was perfect every time we listened. The ultrasounds showed everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. My little man was head down, kicking like crazy and growing perfectly. I felt great (aside from typical pregnancy symptoms).

Truth be told, almost every appointment went the same. I'd come in, they'd have me pee in a cup, check my weight, blood pressure, listen to the heartbeat and measure my belly, tell me everything looked great, ask if I had any questions and send me on my way. 

There were a couple times where the midwife or nurse would say some little thing with which I disagreed, but overall it was going okay. I would just ignore their advice to take benadryl for my itchy eyes or whatever and carry on.

Then came November and the test for gestational diabetes. 

I had some qualms about the test to begin with. The glucose drink they give you is not exactly a healthy concoction, and I didn’t totally understand how it worked. I did so much research online but still had questions. When I brought these up to multiple providers at the OB/GYN, I was generally met with answers like, “It’s just a standard part of prenatal care” and “The alternative would be to do finger pricks for the remainder of your pregnancy - four times a day”. My questions were not answered and I procrastinated as long as I could.

Finally, I did the tests (if you ever want to feel like you've been hit by a truck without actually being hit by a truck, do a glucose test) and the numbers came back borderline for both the one-hour and the three-hour.

Over the course of the three weeks of testing and appointments, I continued to ask a lot of questions. I got the feeling that I was a pest and “Couldn’t I just shut up already and just do what I’m told?” I got more and more stressed out.

From the information I could get from my providers, my takeaway was that I was totally fine except I was probably going to have a big baby and they'd want to induce me at 39 weeks if I hadn't already naturally gone into labor. Truth be told, I was already expecting to have a big baby. My husband was born at 9 lbs, 8 oz and I was 9 pounds, 2 ounces. I had made my peace with it and had full confidence that my body could handle it.

I certainly didn’t want to be induced unnecessarily! With all of my research, I knew about the “cascade of interventions” (the premise is that using one intervention can lead to further problems, leading to the need for further interventions). I was not interested in going down that route.

All I wanted was the best possible outcome for my baby boy - but the longer this went on, the more frustrated I felt and (somehow) the less I understood.

This was completely unacceptable to me and I felt like I had lost control of my pregnancy. I was getting very overwhelmed.

On November 22nd I was at work and got a call from one of the nurses. It didn't go well. I asked more questions. I was told, “This is just standard prenatal care”. I wanted to understand why, and how it all worked. No answers were given. It ended with her threatening that if I wasn't going to do what they were telling me to do, they'd drop me as a patient. This was the last straw, for me. 

In tears, I called my husband and told him what had happened. 

Calmly, he asked me, "What do you want to do?"

"I don't want to be induced. I don’t like this relationship with my doctors. I want to feel like I'm in control. I think I want to do a home birth."

"Okay," he said, "let's do it."

I Googled "home birth midwife near me" and took down names of three highly reviewed midwives. I submitted a request to Joyful Homebirth and less than an hour later I got a text back.

I finished up at work and called my midwife. I explained to her everything that had been happening. I gave her my glucose test numbers, and asked for her opinion on what I should do. 

We talked for a long time - later I'll write up the questions I asked in that initial interview for others looking to hire a midwife - and I finally felt fully understood. We discussed all the possibilities and all of my options. She told me her philosophy about childbirth - she was echoing my feelings, exactly. Her approach was exactly what I was looking for. She was honest about risks, she was supportive in my desire to birth naturally, without interventions. She was all about educating me, helping me understand what was happening and allowing me to make educated decisions regarding the birth of my baby.

Immediately, I felt like I was back in the driver's seat. It was love at first interview and I hired her that week.

I dove, head-first, into research on home births. The more I learned, the more I was sure I had made the right decision.

I went on to have an incredible last month of my pregnancy and a beautiful home birth. My boy weighed in at 9 lbs, 6 oz. I had two very minor tears (no stitches needed) and my recovery was smooth and quick. 

Pregnancy and childbirth are wonderful adventures. It's a natural process. It's normal. It's not an illness. 

Of course there are exceptions and complications. For these, doctors and hospitals are necessary and I’m grateful that they are there.

But it is my opinion that the vast majority of births are unnecessarily medicalized. Do some research on “cascade of interventions” and you may find that you agree.

It's never too late to switch providers. Confidence and control are vital ingredients to a happy birth experience. You deserve to have the birth you want. And personally, I feel there's no place like home to calmly and comfortably welcome your baby to this world.