It was with great interest that I recently read Feeling Her Pain, a Washington Post article about some men’s ambivalent feelings about being present in the delivery room at the births of their children.
In a recent Coffee Talk, someone asked me to share some of my birth stories, and while it’s not at all my style to blog intimate details about labor and delivery, this does offer me an opportunity to share about this popular topic. And I feel I can speak to the “dad being there/dad not being there” topic because I have experienced both.
Dan totally missed Daniel’s birth.
In the week before Daniel was born, our whole family suffered some kind of horrible virus. We think it was a coxsackie virus. And while “coxsackie” is a gross sounding name, I don’t think it does justice to the horribleness of this virus. It gave me a wretched eye infection, but I was feeling loads better by the time I went into labor.
Dan wasn’t. He was in my hospital room bent over in pain and positively miserable with a fever and body aches. His throat was so sore that he couldn’t speak. He was whispering things at me like “This is not normal” and “I have never before in my life felt this awful!”
The nurses took pity on him. They set up a cot for him in the corner and told him to get some rest. But he was in too much pain to rest.
I don’t know about you, but when I am in labor I have precious little tolerance for other people’s aches and complaints — however legitimate they might be. We were an hour from home and the kids were with my parents. I told my husband to go get a hotel room. And he did.
I told one of the nurses to call Dan whenever I got close to delivering and she promised she would. And I labored alone. For real. I had a call button to use if I needed anything, but I was alone. And I felt it acutely. Even if all Dan ever did at my previous deliveries was stand awkwardly at my bedside, I was lonely for him. I didn’t need him to do anything else but be there. But I had sent him away.
After a couple of hours, Dan called to check on me. I was woozy with pain and don’t remember much of the conversation. Dan said he had taken some medicine and thought he could handle coming back. I said okay, we hung up, and Daniel was born 10 minutes later. Dan showed up about 15 minutes after that — totally bewildered.
Throughout labor, I always feel like I am holding off a panicky fear. I fear the pain. I fear a C-section. I fear something going terribly wrong with the baby. And labor is stressful for Dan for all those same reasons. I can’t imagine how horrifying it would be to watch someone you love suffer enormous pain while you stand by helplessly. And to feel pressured to “coach” them through the experience to boot? Insane!
At previous deliveries, I counted on Dan not so much to coach me, but to be my advocate and protector during a very vulnerable time on my life. He has always taken this role quite seriously. So seriously, in fact, that his outrage with a lying, incompetent doctor led the nursing staff to call security on him at Ambrose’s birth. But that’s a whole different blog post.
The fact that I missed Dan during my labor with Daniel made me realize what I need him there for. Not for participating, but for supporting. Not for coaching, but for protecting.
But the fact that I didn’t care a bit about him missing Daniel’s birth after the fact, tells me something else. Whether he’s present at the birth or not, the most important kind of support a man can be to his wife and children is being there for the real labor — and that’s the lifetime of work that begins after delivery.
I am so thankful that I had kids now when husbands are allowed to be in the delivery room.
I wonder what brought about the change. Was it more women becoming doctors or women speaking up for themselves?
From most of the birth stories I hear from older women (in general) their doctor was a grumpy old man who yelled at them for waking him up in the middle of the night because they were in labor. Yikes!
I’m scheduled for my 5th csection exactly 3 weeks from today. Thanks for sharing your stories. So much marital and maternal love is making me tear up!
I only labored for our first child and was induced with Pitocin–nasty stuff as far as I’m concerned. After a few hours of intense contractions, I tried rocking in a rocking chair and breathing. There was very little time between contractions and I just kind of turned inward and breathed my brains out. I glanced at my husband and noticed he was laughing…yes, laughing. I said “Are you laughing at me?” and he said, “Yes I’m sorry. You just look really funny breathing like that. I’ve never seen you look like that.” Strangely, it didn’t even make me mad. I just thought to myself, “He is no use to me” and kept right on breathing.
When I didn’t progress, he valiantly searched for the doctor when I asked when he was coming in. He held the bucket when I vomited before and during the csection. He holds my jaw with strong hands when I get uncontrollable shaking to calm me down. He’s the first to hold our precious babies and the look in his eyes shows me the depth of God’s love for me–that he would bless me with such a loving, devoted husband to share these moments. How breath-taking! How miraculous!
So now we laugh about the laughing…I like to tease him about it.
You know what, whether your husband wants to be there or not, and whether you want him there or not, you all DESERVE a doula. No matter if you’re planning a natural birth, a medicated birth, a cesarean. No matter what, every one of you beautiful women deserve a doula. And a doula can be your very best friend, or your mom or someone you hire or whomever you want it to be, but she will be your advocate and someone who will love you when it hurts and know your pain, but who can help you birth your baby YOUR way, encouraging and advocating for you all the while. She frees up your husband to just love you and your baby, and keeps you from being abandoned if it is necessary for him to be elsewhere.
I know so many women who think that their husbands will be replaced, I promise, they won’t be. My husband (who is an anesthesiologist, and I’ve had two unmedicated births, ahh the irony…) advocates for doulas for every woman. Especially for those who desire an unmedicated birth. I always want my husband nearby, though. In the room, but not always right next to me. His presence is a great comfort.
I’m sorry to hear the story of Katherine who had a doula, but it still didn’t measure up to her husband — you must have an amazing husband, although I definitely think it would be sad for my husband to miss a birth (a definite possibility though, as we are also military).
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/femail/article.html?in_article_id=559913&in_page_id=1766&ito=1490
here’s another article about dads in the delivery room by renowned birth researcher Michel Odent. It’s VERY interesting. I have to say I take issue with his use of the word NEVER.
DH could see over the little screen (for C-sections) if he wanted to – and he did! Which was fine at the time – he found the twins’ C-section delivery an amazing, powerful experience (he’d already been there for the natural delivery of DS1).
We had a bit of a scare – DS2a didn’t cry at first. I was so glad DH was there – with two babies and me immobile, the doctors and nurses were great and we had a great relationship with our obstetrician but we knew the boys were going to be whisked off to the NIC unit and we wanted every precious moment with them. DH followed them up there – I wept alone in recovery, but at the same time, so glad that DH could be with the little guys.
Well, I am the old lady in the bunch, almost 78, and we had our babies in the hospital. In 1951 , after being there with a kidney infection for 5 days, they told me they would start me in labor since I was due, and so 3 hours later, with no one in the room but another woman in the next bed, I had my baby…and I pulled the cord, and hollared, “The baby is here”! Boy, did they come running. That was when I realized I would take after my grandmother , who had a very large family, in Austria, who delivered them herself, and then got up and fixed dinner. I had 3 more children, and with the second child, ( the first was a girl,) a son, I experienced 4 hard pains, the 3rd, my second son, I had 2 hard pains, and with my 4th , my 2nd daughter I had no pains. I had passed a large mucus plug, and called the doctor, and he said to get right to the hospital, and don’t sneeze on the way. God was very kind to me. I never had pains in my abdomin l, only my back. On arriving at the hospital for the fourth birth a nun asked how far apart my pains were , and I told her I didn’t have any pains. Then they examined me, and I heard them running down the hall, like blue blazes to call the doctor, and knew I didn’t have long to wait…I didn’t. Dr. English said, “Gosh, Norma, you don’t give a man a chance to get his coat off.”
So I have no terrible stories to tell, and since I had small babies, the largest being just a bit over 7 pounds, and Patricia, my first, having been born in the labor room, weighed in at 6’3″, I was not cut. After that I asked them to not cut me, and they didn’t. So I never had those terrible stitches I had heard about. As far as childbirth goes , I am the luckiest woman I know, although over the years, some others have told me similar stories. Just wanted to let you know how much I love reading your wonderful column, and enjoy following the antics of your family. The father of my children was the youngest of 13, and boy, do they have some stories. He has died, and I have remarried. Life goes on….
Danielle, I’m with the previous poster “almost6”– don’t leave us hanging! Do post about Dan & hospital security!
In the early 1950s when I had my seven children, the standard procedure was to remove your clothes, put them in a paper bag and they would crack-open the door a little bit and hand them to DH who was sent home. (Only to be called back very shortly to see his new son or daughter.)
We didn’t expect anything different at that time. Plus the baby went to the nursery so bonding time was non-existant. Reading your post, I see how much I missed. I think my DH would have been nervous at the first baby, but wonderful with all the rest.
I had my first baby in the hospital and my second two at home. If you had asked me before I was married if I would ever have my babies at home I would have said no. Then I educated myself thoroughly on the subject and now believe it is the best choice for a healthy mom. Bradley classes really helped, and we loved being at home with a midwife and doula. Paul was great. He did exactly what I wanted and nothing more. The last half hour for me is incredibly intense/painful but the rest of labor is really easy, mostly because I am RELAXED. Being at home is AWESOME.
Read more about this subject on my blog:
http://holybananahands.blogspot.com/2008/03/flick-pick.html
http://holybananahands.blogspot.com/2008/04/good-stuff.html
We had the screen up for all the CSects in fact they bring in dad after the first incisions. What a shock they had that I wanted to see my last one delivered. They didn’t know how to move the mirrors! I hadn’t really seen any of the others for various reasons.
DH was there for both of my hospital labors/delivieries. He isn’t a great coach. I think the whole thing makes him nervous. He isn’t sure what to say to me or what to do. But I want him there nonetheless. He is my protector. I’m barely clothed, striving to relax in a hospital, fending off worry, and coping with pain. I don’t need stupid doctors or nurses or nurses or doctors being or saying stupid things. I need an advocate there who knows me and will speak for me if I can’t speak up for myself.
During my second labor/delivery, DH was sick as well. Not nearly as sick as yours, but his stomach and body ached. I admit at the time I had a hard time caring considering he said this to me sitting on our living room floor while I balanced on a birthing ball and, little did I know, was contracting the last few centimeters. But it was important he was there, important he drove quickly and safely while I tried not to push during the 45 minute drive to the hospital through D.C. traffic, important he helped check me in at the emergency room entrance, and important he helped answer questions with me between contractions just before delivering.
I understand that being present but seemingly helpless in such a situation might not seem preferable, but, if it is was me, I wouldn’t opt to miss it for anything.
My dh does not do well with blood, and he does not do well when I’m in pain. But he has been there for the birth of both of our children, and is planning to be there for this new one as well.
Despite the fact that sometimes he has to go sit down and look the other way. Despite the fact that last time the nurse putting in the IV did too good of a job of finding my vein, and he looked up from not watching the needle stick in time to see a small river of blood cascading over the back of my hand and dripping down onto the floor.
He doesn’t watch the birth. He doesn’t coach. He just is there for me, holds my hand, and looks at me.
And that’s all I really need him there for.