Pregnancy and Postpartum Mental Health: Safety in the Storm

By Wendy Davis, PhD

 

The proper support of new mothers, babies, and their families requires a whole chain of care that goes from the earliest prenatal care all the way through the first early years of a child’s life. We are all links in that chain — families, providers, and communities:  we work best when we are collaborating, working together, creating nurturing environments for infants and their families.  The most important message about mental health and self-care for new parents is that it is a natural need to receive support during pregnancy and postpartum, and that includes emotional as well as physical and practical support.

How can families help when a mom has postpartum depression or anxiety? How do we learn about signs and symptoms in a way that feels empowering and not shaming? Sometimes it seems that our heaviest burden is our own self-criticism and judgment, our own expectations that a “good mom” would never feel any emotional distress.  Women who are depressed or anxious during or after pregnancy tell us that friends, family, and perfect strangers directly influence how they feel, whether they reach out, and even how they communicate with their partners. How a family responds to a new mother’s emotional and mental health can affect her through pregnancy, pregnancy loss, postpartum, and her developing self-image as a mother.

Here’s a good illustration.

I am standing in line at the grocery store and overhear a conversation between the two women in front of me. One is there with two children – a baby in the cart and an older child who calls her grandma. She is taking care of the little ones and talking to the silver-haired woman behind her, comparing notes about grandchildren. I hear the woman with the children mention that she’s helping because her daughter-in-law has “Postpartum Depression.” They pause and look at the kids. I wait…I wait for the inevitable: the rolling of the eyes, the talk about how women these days just want the easy way out, how everyone and her sister seems to have “Postpartum Depression.”  I ready myself, getting ready to tell them that it is real, it is rough, and that we are lucky to have real resources, volunteers who can help her connect, find resources, not feel alone. I want them to understand, to know that they should not judge. I want to tell them that it actually is almost true that “everyone and her sister” has it, and that we need to listen to them, not judge, and help them. I’m ready. I take a breath.

They surprise me.

The woman in front of me shakes her head. “Oh, I only wish we had help back in my day. I wish… She’s a lucky girl, your daughter-in-law. If I had been able to ask for help and have someone take the kids to the store….You know, she’s lucky to have you.” They smile at each other, and look down at the children. I feel like crying, with relief. If the grandmothers at the store understand, then we might just have a chance.

Times have changed, and they will continue to change. Although another day could have brought an insensitive conversation about depressed new moms, this day in this store reminded me that our families and communities are beginning to understand. New moms do get depressed and they get anxious. Pregnant women have as much chance of becoming depressed or anxious as their postpartum moms, and teenage moms have a greater chance than any. Even adoptive moms and dads can become depressed and anxious after a new baby arrives. We have been ignoring it and as a result families have suffered. Fortunately, communities around the world (and the internet)  are working together to create a safety net that includes raising awareness, connecting families with resources, educating providers, and forging partnerships to help families.

The earliest references to depression, fears, or psychosis around childbearing were recorded in the 4th century BCE!  In modern times, we stopped talking about them. Acknowledgement of despair seems to have been replaced by pretty media pictures of mommies and babies and shallow reassurances by families and doctors who tell mom to get a haircut, buy a new dress, or wean the baby. Traditional rituals to support new mothers and fathers were replaced by baby-shower games, and built-in help for new parents gave way to expectations that one parent will go to work and the other stay home to keep up with housework, her appearance, and the bliss of new motherhood. In this modern world, where is the language to describe mornings filled with anxious fears, dinner that remains uncooked,  and nights disrupted by mommy crying as much as the baby?

Organizations like Postpartum Support International believe that we can prevent a crisis if new parents receive reliable information, resources, and adequate support before the baby arrives. If families learn that symptoms of emotional and mental distress during pregnancy and postpartum are common, treatable, and temporary, then they will not be consumed by fear or shame if it occurs. They might find ways to rest more, reach out sooner, and engage with informed providers and support services to prevent their distress and facilitate their recovery. Most importantly, by finding resources, they can make contact with real mothers, fathers, and grandparents who have gone through their own difficulties around childbearing, and they will learn that they are not alone and not to blame. Women should know that they can contact support organizations like PSI for support around any stress, adjustment, or distress related to childbearing; they don’t need a diagnosis and they won’t be pushed into any particular treatment.

Although we most often hear about “Postpartum Depression” when we talk about mental health around childbearing, there are in fact several ways that emotional distress commonly arises – not only depression, but anxiety, bipolar cycles, grief, trauma, and psychosis. The most recent research shows that more than 1 out of 8 pregnant and postpartum women develop significant depression or anxiety, and up to 1 out of 10 fathers also have depression after a new baby arrives.  Postpartum Psychosis, the most serious postpartum psychological disorder, occurs in 1 to 2 per 1000 births.

This means that one in eight women has enough disruption in her moods, sleep, appetite, confidence, and ability to function that she could be diagnosed with a clinical mood disorder. You can’t tell who it is by looking: moms will smile on the outside while they are feeling lost, scared, and emotionally numb. Our cultural taboo against maternal depression has thwarted us from talking compassionately about our emotional lives as mothers.

There are identifiable risk factors such as a history of PMS, depression, anxiety, or bipolar mood disorders, recent loss, or life stressors. Symptoms might include feeling overwhelmed, inadequate, anxious, or detached, and in some cases the difficult anxiety symptom of repetitive, intrusive thoughts that include unwanted images of harm to their babies. If the family and their caregivers do not have reliable information to help them distinguish between anxieties that are not dangerous and delusional thinking that is, anxious mothers live in fear and their symptoms increase.

If a mom is fortunate, people around her will remind her that she is worthy of care, treatment, and help. If she has emotional difficulties, they will tell her that these are symptoms of distress, not a sign of her inadequacy. Having negative feelings about becoming a mother is a symptom of depression; it is not a cause. We can be open to the truth about the difficult adjustment of becoming a parent. Can we accept that depression, fear, anger, and loss might exist side by side with love and attentive parenting? If we can become a culture of truth-tellers and fair listeners, we will make our families stronger and healthier, and change the environment into which children and their parents emerge.

So, let’s hear it for the grandmothers in line at the store. Thank you for listening, providing safety in the storm, telling the truth.

 Contact Postpartum Support International for support, information, resources, and volunteer opportunities at www.postpartum.net or 1-800-944-4PPD  (1-800-944-4773).

 

Wendy Davis, PhD, provides counseling, training, and consultation for mental health related to pregnancy, birth, loss, postpartum recovery. She was the founding director of Oregon’s Baby Blues Connection and is the Executive Director of Postpartum Support International.

 

Great Expectations: Heather @ 20 Weeks!

I’m halfway done! Congratulations to me! Now, I just have one question. When do I get my brain back? Anyone?

We’re now in the pleasant middle stretch; I’ve gotten into stride for the most part. It’s hard to tell between muscle twitch or movement
sometimes, but I’m pretty certain I’ve finally gotten to that point as well. Stupidity is my biggest complaint at the moment, and it’s
serious. A fog has descended over my brain. What I even remember to do is done with a frightening lack of accuracy. Baby has turned out to be every bit as camera shy as Mom, but we’ll see if next week brings any news. We keep hearing “probably” girl, but I hate to call it for sure until we’ve actually seen something.

Meanwhile, I’m just trying to enjoy this phase without stressing about too much, at least for a week or two. It’s my favorite time of year, where everything is green and rainy but the mountains still have caps of snow. The lilacs will bloom, soon! We have warmth and cool, and possibly only a few week’s break between winter cold and summer heat. What a joy that will be!

I’m relieved to focus on other things for a while, such as: wishing you all a Happy Mothers’ Day. When I say “Mother” I mean those like my beautiful Mom, above, and all the women out there who celebrate their inherent capacity to nurture others and who help whatever they touch to grow. I’m talking about crazy aunts, best friends, educators, healing scientists, authors, etc. I’ve met lots of you in lots of
places, and I owe you the deepest gratitude, particularly for your example. Because of your efforts, my life has deeper purpose and
satisfaction.

I was raised on the concept of traditional family, which for me provided a positive sense of direction in life. I want to be part of
that powerful legacy of mothering. However, I don’t accept the overly sanctified vision of the flawless mother in the ideal family, mostly because neither of those exist. Also because there will come a moment when each of us who buys into it realizes how short of that measure we fall in some way, and run the risk of being crippled by despair. I’ve seen this sadly often in my own childhood home.

Still, I believe that each of us striving toward many of those goals in our own way leads us to become better than we could be otherwise. It just works best if you don’t try to do it all, or all at once. Easier said than accomplished. I have less physically to cope with at the moment, but my brain is becoming more and more absent and my heart more vulnerable, just as my focus is turning to what happens after the next 4-5 months. Am I ready for this? I suppose I won’t ever be completely ready because I don’t know yet what to expect. At least, I know I have the right intentions, and great support from many directions. I feel I’m in the right place.

I will quickly share two treasured experiences that have pushed me to face Mothering With Confidence. I was working as a missionary in Kalamazoo, Michigan, and experiencing a kind of personal crisis, namely one of those moments of crippling despair and inadequacy. I expressed some of my doubts to the man directing missionary efforts in that part of the state, and was reminded in turn of the many family members I had who were praying for my success as I worked there and beyond, from my immediate family to generations past to the children and grandchildren I was yet to have. This reminder turned my thoughts to my mother, the harrowing challenges I had seen her face through my life, and to the person she had become as a result. Was she perfect? No. But she had a heart that was always willing to love, accept, and reassure. Because she had been hurt, she knew how to comfort. I decided that if enduring that time was what it took to be like her, to offer what I hoped to give to others, I would do it.

So I tried my best to move forward and give of myself and then came home to face the rest of my life. Enter another despairing moment. It was a late night, and I was lying in bed, thinking of all that still needed to happen. Where would I find work? What would I study? Was I going to be married, or not? What if I was? Would I be happy? Would I be a good mother? It was all so much and seemed so urgent. I prayed and prayed for comfort and was surprised when the answer came so quickly.

I dreamed that night of my first experiences with a new baby. The first time we met, I realized I was holding her incorrectly. When we
brought her home, my dream husband and I had just moved, and boxes were everywhere. My family had come to stay with us and help unpack. We all sat on the couch and talked and laughed together, mostly about how our new girl still had no name. Finally, she grew tired. For what seemed like a real life hour, I tried to rock her and shush my family, looking through boxes for her pajamas. We fell asleep together in a recliner in another room. When I woke up, she had peed all over us both. Okay, bathtime! I got her undressed and into the bathtub before I realized I had never cleaned it after the move. My mother held her as I scrubbed and disinfected obsessively. Just as I was ready to put her back in, she peed again in the water. The most striking part of the dream was how calm and happy I felt, in the middle of the chaos and as I made so many silly mistakes. It didn’t matter; I kept moving on to the next thing. I loved watching how aware and smart my baby was, and talking and explaining the world to her. Everything would be fine. The confidence was coming from around and not inside me, but it quieted my heart and left me feeling peaceful in the morning.

I wish we all allowed ourselves that peace more often. I’m wishing it for all of you, in all your nurturing efforts. Let’s all live in the
season and the spirit of new life and growth in the world right now. This is a beautiful time to celebrate and simply be.

A Mother’s Essay: “I ‘Have it All’… Just Not All at Once”

By Jennifer Marshall

There has been a lot of talk on the interwebs lately about women and work and family and can we really “have it all?” Some argue yes, we definitely can. Others argue, well sure, if you have unlimited income then, yes, you can. But I think it’s safe to say that it’s definitely not the reality for most working Americans.

For me, it’s all about bursts of “having it all.” You know, those days when you finally get the kids tucked into bed at 8pm and you sit down and realize: “Wow. Today was really awesome.” I know — doesn’t happen all that often, but when it does, I like to savor every drop of it.

Those are the days when the kids are happy and smiling when they hop out of bed for breakfast. When they play together so sweetly as I buzz about the kitchen making them french toast because it’s what they said they were craving. My coffee is perfect and I sip it as I cook. Everyone loves their breakfast and eats it all up without any spills and I even have a conversation with my little ones as they tell me excitedly about what they’re going to do at school that day.

The morning routine continues to go smoothly as I dress my younger one and the older one practically dresses himself after I lay out some clothes. Teeth are brushed, shoes and jackets put on without having to ask ten times, and bookbags are ready so that we make it to school with three minutes to spare. My big kid remarks on the drive to school, “Today was a good morning, Mommy.” And I drive on with a smile.

Back at home, I dive into cleaning up the breakfast dishes and marvel at how it only takes fifteen minutes when there aren’t little ones underfoot. I settle in to get some work done and have a leisurely lunch, actually tasting each bite, before picking up the kids. Their shining smiling faces are so full of joy when I arrive to pick them up. It’s been a good break, but I am ready to have them back again, to hear all about their adventures at school. The afternoon sails by with a nap for baby girl and quiet time for big brother while I finish up where I left off with my work.

We play some board games together and read a few books before I realized it’s already time to make dinner. My husband arrives home around 6pm, and the kids are sitting at the table in the kitchen eating their meals because they were so hungry from all the play that they couldn’t wait for Daddy. I wrap my arms around him for a cozy “welcome home” hug and the kids both smile at our little display of affection. As he goes upstairs to change out of his work clothes into something more comfortable, I think to myself, “How did I get so lucky?”

Now, don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of days when I am counting the seconds until bedtime because it’s been such a rough and draining day. Those are the days when I feel like a terrible mother because I forgot my patience and yelled at the kids too much or because work was so busy that I barely had time to play with them let alone feed them a proper meal. But when the days come where I have juggled everything with ease and I look around me and am in complete awe at all that I have, I am filled with an immense gratitude for life and motherhood.

Makes me want to push my luck and just go for one more. But that’s another post altogether.

Finding a balance has been a lifesaver for me. I enjoy my first career and appreciate the flexibility I have in working from home. For me, trying to “have it all” – all at once – is way too stressful. It makes life miserable for me and my family which is not fair for anyone, myself included. Instead, I have come to terms with the reality that it is better to go with the flow of life than to try to arrange all the responsibilities of work and family into a perfect package. If I work on a contract for 9 months and then want to take five or six months off to give my family my complete and undivided attention, then I’m going to work hard at our family budget in order to make that happen. It’s worth it in the end and the balance it provides our family with gives me sanity.

Balance is the key for me in life and work and I am very thankful for being able to “have it all” even if I don’t always have it all at once.

Jennifer is a 34-year old wife and mother of two young children. Over seven years ago she suffered her first manic episode. Several months and many doctor’s appointments later, she was finally diagnosed as having Bipolar Disorder – Type I. Jennifer’s blog, www.bipolarmomlife.com, documents her progress, and keeps her accountable and healthy for her family. She is currently blogging for WhatToExpect.com’s Word of Mom community and is also working on a memoir. Along the way, she hopes to help fight stigma and inspire other people who are struggling with the same feelings, fears, and insecurities that she was at one point. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. You just need to keep fighting hard to get there. You can email Jennifer at bipolarmomlife@gmail.com.

For Moms-To-Be on Mother’s Day: A Message from MotherToBaby

By Kenneth Lyons Jones, MD, OTIS/MotherToBaby President

We, the Organization of Teratology Information Specialists (OTIS), are extremely pleased to introduce a new name for our free counseling service: MotherToBaby. MotherToBaby was chosen because it so perfectly depicts the commitment we have made to provide personalized, evidence-based information to mothers-to-be, to women contemplating pregnancy, and to health care professionals about medications and other exposures during pregnancy and while breastfeeding.

The awareness that a drug can be transported from mother to baby is a fairly new concept. Until recently it was thought that the developing baby was protected from the external environment and that all birth defects had a genetic cause. That all changed in the 1960s when Widukind Lenz in West Germany and William McBride in Australia recognized that a drug used for the treatment of nausea and vomiting, as well as anxiety, caused serious defects in the development of a baby’s arms and legs when taken early in pregnancy. Over the years , the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction. No longer is it believed that the unborn baby is protected from environmental influences. Instead, concern has been raised that many drugs taken commonly by pregnant women can cause problems for a developing baby.

Despite that concern, instances occur in which a woman inadvertently takes a medication prior to the time she realizes she is pregnant and many women are required to take a drug because of a chronic condition such as a seizure disorder or depression. That is why, in addition to our counseling services, we have a major commitment to gain new information about drugs for which little or no information is known. When a drug is newly approved by the FDA and marketed there is inadequate information about the effects of that drug on human pregnancy outcome. After all, it would be unethical to give a newly marketed drug to a pregnant woman to find out if it is safe for the developing baby.

At the present time drugs are evaluated only after a woman discovers she is pregnant. In cases in which pregnant women call MotherToBaby about a drug for which adequate information is unavailable, follow-up of her pregnancy by our counselors and documentation of pregnancy outcome can provide valuable information that can help the next pregnant woman who asks us about the same medication.

We at MotherToBaby are consulted about hundreds of different drugs each year, but the one that we are most frequently asked about is alcohol. Like most drugs, there remains a huge amount of important information about its effect on the developing baby for which we lack adequate information. However, we do know that prenatal exposure to alcohol is the number one cause of intellectual disability. We know that the Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) occurs in children of all ethnic groups, all nationalities, and all socioeconomic groups. In fact, women with advanced education report they drink alcohol more than women with less education. Unlike many other drugs, we know that alcohol can have an effect following exposure in any trimester of pregnancy, and we know that FASD occurs in one out of 100 live born babies making it almost as common as Autism Spectrum Disorder.

It is important to recognize that knowledge about the effects of drugs, chemicals, infections, and environmental agents on pregnancy outcome provides the opportunity to prevent birth defects and other adverse pregnancy outcomes. We at MotherToBaby believe our primary role is to provide that education to pregnant women and particularly to women who are contemplating pregnancy.

If you have questions about drugs and other exposures, call MotherToBaby toll-FREE at 866-626-6847 or visit MotherToBaby.org to browse a library of fact sheets. MotherToBaby and OTIS are suggested resources by many agencies including the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

Kenneth Lyons Jones, MD, is a professor of pediatrics at UC San Diego and current president of OTIS/MotherToBaby. He was the first researcher to identify Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS) in 1973. 

Great Expectations: Heather @ 18 Weeks

It was a simple question, and kindly asked: “Why don’t you show us a pic of your growing belly?” Funny how a simple question can induce such panic. I don’t have a problem with sharing a “belly” photo per se, though it seems I’m still the only one who can tell a difference there yet. But, if you see my belly, you’ll see my arms, and my hair, and my thighs. Ech…

Plus, I hate comparing. The day that I think I finally look obvious, the “Amazing, I can’t even tell!” comments begin. I talk to other moms just a week or two ahead of me, with their cute little bellies, and hear about their babies moving and the kicking, and I sigh. I am overweight, and just beginning to change my life. I have accepted that feeling baby’s movement and looking pregnant will come a little later for me. I’m just grateful to be pregnant. It could have been so much worse, with the PCOS. So, I have accepted it. Mostly.

I recognize the possible impact of my negative body image, but it’s a hard habit to overcome. I know that poor self-image and discomfort with bodily exposure can contribute to a traumatic birth experience. It’s a whole lot happening in places that some like to pretend do not exist, particularly in a space as public as a hospital. You’re not prepared for the sensations. You don’t know how to handle them. Then, there’s the dozen-th random cervical check when the doctor/nurse voices doubt on whether you’re capable of getting your baby out. That has a tendency to leave some lasting feelings.

I’m not sure that many women realize how deep the habit of negative body image runs, mostly because we see it constantly throughout our lives. I was talking with a group of friends this past weekend about things our well-meaning mothers say to us. They mentioned the up-and-down scan with pursed lips. Or the barrage of questions about how that exercise class was going, or even how you will find a man, looking like that. I had to stop and think for a moment. My mother never said any of these things to me. So why do I struggle the same way? I believe it’s because this is how she spoke to herself as I grew up, talking about the shame of having friends or spending time with women who were taller/thinner/better looking, the big push to lose X number of pounds before big trips and events, etc.

Growing up, I recognized on some level that this behavior wasn’t the most healthy. So I decided at a young age to avoid the whole situation and ignore my physical fitness and appearance almost entirely. Needless to say, this didn’t fix anything. I still adopted the shame and self-humiliation, while trying to forget half of myself. I spent the majority of my teenage years hiding out in zip-up hoodies, July and August included. I avoided photographs, swimming pools, and cute clothing stores in the mall. It was an awkward and sometimes hot experience.

There are a few other problems that were created by my choices. For one, I sometimes am no fun at all. I take few risks. I do little that might seem foolish or unflattering. And I constantly think or even speak of how others might consider what I’m doing.

Problem two is that I had no clue what to do when Prince Charming knocked on my door — and the shoe fit. Since when do glass slippers come in a 9.5/10? He was funny and caring, and her understood everything I did. Not to mention, he was handsome. What’s a poor, ordinary girl supposed to do with that? I didn’t feel prepared to give love and let someone love me, particularly physically, when I had never loved myself.

Fortunately, I had already recognized my weakness, and had a lot of timely help. I had the sense to see that I had a very good man, and I married him even though I still wondered why he would want me. No one had ever been interested before. But I could be grown up about it. I had my heart to offer, along with loyalty and common goals for life and family. If he wanted it, he deserved the best I could give. Beyond that, if he chose to compliment some part of my body — and goodness, he has a knack for picking the places I’ve hated most — he was a saint for saying so, and I could take it with some gratitude and dignity. If he expressed love best with closeness and touch, I could accept and return it wholeheartedly, even if I was uncertain and unpracticed.

The timely help came in the form of a few glorious months I’d spent in California just before Preston and I started talking. I lived with a friend who radiated awesomeness, fun, and confidence. The people there were wonderful and real, and treated me as an equal. Perhaps I wasn’t unlikable after all. Then, after the wedding, there was the doula training that I mentioned in my last post. I learned how much we needed to trust our bodies, listen to them, love and comfort them, and treat them well if we wanted to be happy, healthy, and helpful. I’ve been trying, I really have. It was a rough road leading to my PCOS diagnosis, but I gained some harmony along the way.

Problem three, I am determined, will not get the best of me. I will do my squats and yoga today, I will find myself a bright and beautiful birth gown, I will not look to see who’s there when I do skin-to-skin, and I will not try to imagine my exposed self through other people’s eyes. I can set some boundaries, too. I will wear my own clothes to labor and birth. I will walk and move and even get down on the floor if I want. And I refuse to lie on my back like a helpless bug with my legs in the air while holding my breath.

In token of my determination, I am offering a rare glimpse — the requested photo, home quality, bare face, big arms, awkward pose and all. I’m even wearing my comfiest (i.e. baggiest) red salwar for full effect. And I’m doing my best to smile and be proud, just like all the women with the cute, round bellies. We’ve come a long way, my body and I, and we’re going to make it so much farther, together.

Cesarean Awareness Month: A Woman’s Guide to VBAC

April is Cesarean Awareness Month. While it can be a life-saving procedure for mom and baby, a cesarean is often prescribed when vaginal birth is a safe and sound option. Be aware that you have options, that you have a right to ask questions, and a right to know your risks. Educating yourself about birth is your best and first defense against an unnecessary cesarean. 

Throughout the month, Giving Birth with Confidence has posted cesarean resources for moms. We encourage you to comment with your experience as well as any questions. For more information be sure to check out the International Cesarean Awareness Network Blog.

 

A Woman’s Guide to VBAC

In June 2010, a National Institutes of Health (NIH) panel published a Consensus Development Conference Statement on vaginal birth after cesarean (VBAC).

In addition to examining the current evidence related to VBAC and offering recommendations for future research on this topic, the NIH panel concluded that VBAC was a “reasonable option” for most women with a previous cesarean section. The statement has not changed as of the time of this post.

Even with all that is included in the NIH Statement on VBAC, it might be difficult for many of us to wade through the information in it and figure out what it means for us and our particular birth options and unique circumstances.

This is where A Woman’s Guide to VBAC comes into play.

group of maternity care experts and VBAC advocates came together to create A Woman’s Guide to VBAC: Navigating the NIH Consensus Recommendations, a free online resource guide that addresses the most common and pressing questions women may have about their birth choices in what could be called the “post-NIH-Consensus-Recommendations Era.” We hope the Guide gives you the tools you need to empower yourself to advocate for you, your baby, and your birth choices!

 

Sections in A Woman’s Guide to VBAC:

 

This guide is dedicated to all of us who are maternity care consumers, whether we are currently pregnant, have been pregnant, or simply work and advocate on behalf of pregnant women.
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What is a National Institutes of Health Consensus Development Statement?

This statement is the product of an NIH Consensus Development Conference. These two-and-a-half day conferences — which are free and open to the public — are organized by the NIH to address issues in medicine that are both controversial and pertinent to health care providers and the general public.

During the NIH Consensus Development Conference on VBAC, an independent panel listened to presentations given by invited expert speakers.  The panel also heard input from members of the general public during Q&A sessions. Finally, drawing upon the conference proceedings and upon a systematic review of the evidence on VBAC, the panel drafted their statement on VBAC.

Like all Consensus Development Statements, the statement on VBAC is not legally binding. It does not create practice guidelines, nor does it establish any health policies. Nonetheless, it is still an exceedingly important document. In fact, because of the high-quality evidence that the NIH panel uses to create consensus development statements, the NIH claims that it is “reasonable to expect that the panel will be able to give clinical guidance” to care providers.

Great Expectations: Rebecca @ 38 Weeks

“Turn around, bright eyes….”

I do my best Bonnie Tyler imitation complete with hand gestures and genuine dramatic facial expressions as I drive to and from work, acting like I am in a tall car with darkly tinted windows instead of our beat-up, see-through mini Kia where my antics have surely become the subject of a remark or two from fellow travelers along the 13-mile commute.  I am singing to my gestating baby, specifically that dated opposite-of-timeless power ballad “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” because last week we found out he is in a breech position. I am literally telling him to turn around. If the lyrics don’t move him, maybe the song, which is in a key totally distinct from my naturally low alto tones, will at least motivate him to scoot as far away from my throat as possible.

Learning at 37 weeks that the baby is wrong side up is not the end of the world, but it was a moment in time that wasn’t anticipated, took about five seconds to assess, and has sent my world — and plans I never knew I had — into a tizzy ever since. As soon as the sonographer said “we have a breech baby here,” I wanted to respond: “no, no that’s not it — you don’t understand — we’re just here because I measured a bit big on the last visit.” You must have me mixed up with some other pregnant woman in a parallel universe, lying on this table with clear jam on her belly and a shocked look on her face. We know the doctor ordered this but really we just came for the pictures.  I ordered a salad; you brought me a burger.

Well, he did print pictures of my big baby hanging out hammock style instead of the regular way, contentedly waiting to be born. We put the photos in an envelope as we calmly walked over to my doctor’s appointment, announced the results and started asking questions about what we had just been told. Thus began the first real conversation I have ever had about the possibility of a cesarean birth. But first, he said, you can try a multitude of alternative approaches.  I mentally catalogued each one he mentioned: those that have had proven results like acupuncture, some that sounded quite silly, and a few in between.  The silly ones “couldn’t hurt,” he said, “so if it makes you feel better, go ahead and try.”  We laid out a comfortable timeline together — a couple weeks to motivate baby to turn on his own, followed by doctor-led turning, and then hopefully regular labor…or not, we’ll see. And when I got home, I ran to my old friend, the internet.

Perhaps predictably and in a true motherhood moment, I searched the web frantically for things I could have done to make the baby lay the wrong way (answer: no. stop doing that). I learned that four out of every 100 births is breech; people do all the things the doctor had mentioned to get a baby to turn on its own; I wasn’t ready to look at the relevant videos yet. And started reaching out to friends and family — which is the antithesis of my normal behavior. Luckily, a friend knew a few acupuncturists who specialize in pregnant women.  I meticulously researched all the other methods and picked those I was comfortable with.  Which brings me to where I am now: in the past 10 days I have been acupunctured, moxibustioned, pelvicly realigned, inversioned, frozen pea’d (that’s where you put a bag of frozen peas on the top of your belly under somebody’s grandma’s theory that the baby will “run away” from the cold), visualized, told everyone I know to ask the baby to turn around, and consistently stood at the kitchen counter with one foot on a stool much to the chagrin of my daughter to whom the stool belongs. No, you can’t stand here to crack the eggs for dinner tonight honey, mommy’s trying to keep an open pelvis so the baby will turn. And now, I’m singing 80’s power ballads. And baby remains in his hammock position, probably happier than ever.

Once again I find myself grateful for the supportive friends and family who have heard from me over the past week, some learning more than they ever wanted to know about the various details, others sharing their own very knowledgeable and helpful experiences or words of wisdom, even just to help make my overactive-planner-mind a bit more calm. And I have come to the point where more calm is clearly what is needed. I am taking advantage of the resources provided via Cesarean Awareness Month on Lamaze’s site — because knowing more about c-sections will be a huge benefit when I have to make decisions and communicate with doctors. But overdoing the information download will not lead to better decision-making, just obsession over the possible twists and turns this labor and delivery may take.

Which is why, the closer we get to external cephalic version day on my timeline, I am trying to accept flexibility more, and results-driven activities less. As I said, I didn’t realize I had “a plan.” But now that I’m a week into this I realize how a plan had formed without me recognizing it.  I saw myself during the other two births, and just assumed it would be the same way this time. And I have been clinging to that, instead of treating each pregnancy as a distinct happening that deserves its own energy, time, and approach.  I will continue with the inversions, and the acupuncture, and whatever else I’d like. It is a minor shift in action but a major change in my mind that makes all the difference: what has up to this point been “Operation Turn the Baby,” has to become, paraphrasing the acupuncturist, “what should happen, will happen.” It’s not an easy transition, but one that will help me experience my third baby’s birth in the best way for him and for me — I believe that’s all one can hope for.
Rebecca Headen lives in Washington, DC, where she is a social justice advocate and attorney, wife to an adoring superhusband/superdad, and proud mom raising two tenacious, questioning, independent and strong girls with a baby boy in the works.

Cesarean Awareness Month: Avoiding a First-Time Cesarean

April is Cesarean Awareness Month. While it can be a life-saving procedure for mom and baby, a cesarean is often prescribed when vaginal birth is a safe and sound option. Be aware that you have options, that you have a right to ask questions, and a right to know your risks. Educating yourself about birth is your best and first defense against an unnecessary cesarean. 

Throughout the month, Giving Birth with Confidence will be posting cesarean resources for moms. We encourage you to comment with your experience as well as any questions. For more information be sure to check out the International Cesarean Awareness Network Blog.

10 Tips for Avoiding a First-Time Cesarean

By Jessica English, CD(DONA), LCCE

More and more women in the United States (and around the world) are having cesarean births. A recent study from the Yale University of Medicine showed two main reasons for the rise: more c-sections in first-time moms and lower rates of VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean).

For your first baby, what can you do to reduce your chances of an unnecessary cesarean birth? We’ve identified 10 areas where you can be proactive and stack the deck in your favor.

1) Hire your provider wisely. This point is number one for a reason – it’s critical. In most practices, you could have any one of several doctors or midwives. You get whoever is on call when you go into labor. It’s helpful to know your practice’s cesarean rates. The labels “obstetrician,” “family doctor” and “midwife” don’t necessarily tell you what you need to know about your provider’s philosophy. Some doctors practice more like midwives, and some midwives practice more like a stereotypical doctor. Will they have a toolbox of natural techniques or only medical tool to help you if your labor is complex? If you’re not sure which doctor or midwife to choose, ask a doula. Doulas see all kinds of births with many different practices, and they will be happy to make a recommendation of a provider with a low cesarean rate and good bedside manner.  If you find out that your provider is not supportive, it is never too late to switch, even if you are just a few weeks or even days before your due date.

2) Hire a doula. Simply put, doulas make birth better, and there’s research to prove it. A meta-analysis of studies shows that women who use a doula are 26 percent less likely to have a cesarean birth, among other dramatic benefits. Having continuous support from a friend of family member can be helpful too, but the best results come when women hire an outside doula, according to a recent Cochrane Review. What exactly is the doula magic? The research hasn’t pinpointed the magic, but I think the unique combination of physical, emotional and informational support, plus gentle advocacy makes a huge difference. Doulas help women feel safe and comfortable so the hormones of labor can work at optimal levels, positioning ideas and tricks can help babies work their way out, and evidence-based information and help communicating with the medical staff can help women have their best chance inside a system that doesn’t really promote natural birth.

3) Take an independent natural childbirth class. It’s not so much that you need to know a lot about giving birth, but many women (and men) need to undo what society has taught us about birth. Independent classes are usually longer and more in-depth, with more interaction and less lecture. A good instructor can help increase your confidence in your body and help you trust in the normal birth process. An independent Lamaze-certified instructor will base her class on the six Lamaze Healthy Birth Practices, a wonderful resource that lays the groundwork for the best possible birth. Another benefit of an independent class is that your teacher works for you. She can teach you how to advocate for yourself within the system, without having to worry about what doctors, administrators or anyone else might think.

4) Avoid induction unless there’s a serious medical problem. As a first-time mom, some studies show that simply walking in the door for an induction of labor doubles your risk of a cesarean. Doubles it. That’s huge! Avoiding induction is never more important than with a first baby. But if you must be induced for a medical reason, call on your natural childbirth instructor and your doula (remember them?) to help you with tips to keep it as normal and natural an experience as possible, even with the unexpected circumstances. If mom and baby are not in immediate danger, low-and-slow inductions can result in a better chance of a vaginal birth, but you’ll need great support on the journey.

5) If having your baby in the hospital, stay home at least until strong, active labor. Your independent childbirth instructor will teach you how to recognize active labor. If you follow the common hospital recommendation to “come in when contractions are five minutes apart, at least a minute long, for at least an hour,” most women having their first baby will be very early in labor. The intensity of contractions is a much better guide than the timing. The more hours you are at the hospital before your baby is born, the higher your risk of intervention (including a cesarean). In her book “Pushed: The Painful Truth About Childbirth and Modern Maternity Care,” Jennifer Block tells the story of a hospital in Florida that lost power after a major hurricane. A generator kept the essentials running, but there was not enough power for air conditioning. They wanted to save resources and keep laboring women cool, so for a full week they turned away any woman who was not in full-blown, active labor. Their emergency cesarean rates during that week dropped dramatically.

6) Avoid an epidural, at least in early labor. Research is a bit mixed, and not all studies have been high quality. But still, the best evidence available does seem to show that epidurals, especially when women get them early in labor, do increase the cesarean rate in first-time mothers. Childbirth Connection is a great resource for information on the benefits and risks of epidurals. There are rare times, of course, when getting an epidural can actually help a woman have a vaginal birth, if she simply doesn’t have the strength to go on. Every labor is different. But an epidural also makes it harder for a baby in a bad position to move into a better one, it limits your ability to move, and it requires a lot of other interventions (IV, continuous monitoring, bladder catheter, etc.). Your doula and your independent childbirth class may give you enough natural tools so that you won’t even need the drugs. Most women don’t.

7) Read only the best childbirth books. Get these books, and read them cover-to-cover. Seriously, throw away “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” and dive into these wonderful books instead.

And while you’re at it, buy the DVDs “The Business of Being Born” and “Orgasmic Birth” – they’re even on Netflix. That’s right, I’m recommending “Orgasmic Birth.” Stretch yourself a little!

8) Get your partner on board. It’s hard to do this alone, you need support! Even with the best doula, your partner is still an integral part of your birth journey. Penny Simkin’s book “The Birth Partner: A Complete Guide to Childbirth for Dads, Doulas and All Other Labor Companions” is a great place to start. Be sure your partner attends that independent childbirth class with you – sometimes partners benefit even more than moms from that information and support.

9) Consider an out-of-hospital birth. It’s possible, with the right support, to have a great first birth in the hospital – even a vaginal birth without pain medication. As a doula I see them fairly often, and you should definitely choose the hospital if that’s where you feel safest and most comfortable. But the best research is pretty clear that your odds of a vaginal birth are better outside of the hospital: at home or in a birth center. In 2005 the British Medical Journal published a large study that looked at home births in the United States attended by Certified Professional Midwives. The women who gave birth at home had similar outcomes to low-risk women who had hospital births in terms of safety for moms and babies. But just 3.7 percent of the women who had their babies at home transferred to the hospital for a cesarean, while 19 percent of the low-risk women who had their babies in the hospital ended up with c-sections. The current cesarean rate in the United States is 32.9 percent, according to the Centers for Disease Control. Many studies have shown similar results, which makes out-of-hospital birth at least worth considering.

10) Believe in your body! The cesarean rate for women who birth at The Farm in Tennessee is less than 2 percent. Many industrialized countries around the world have cesarean rates of 15 percent or less. Women have been doing this for millions of years! Your body works. Birth works, in all its complex and wonderful variations. Surround yourself with knowledgeable support, of course, in case you encounter any rare and unexpected complications. But truly… trust your body. Trust birth.

 

Jessica English, CD(DONA), LCCE, is the owner of Birth Kalamazoo, which offers birth and postpartum doula services, natural childbirth and breastfeeding classes, and in-home lactation consults. A DONA-certified birth doula and Lamaze-certified childbirth educator, she teaches an 8-week series of classes called “The Best of Natural Birth.” She is the editor of DONA International’s eDoula newsletter. A longtime writer and business woman, she also works as a consultant for organizations and birth professionals.

Great Expectations: Rebecca at 36 Weeks

T-minus 4 weeks — just about 672 hours, give or take — until my official due date.  People I encounter keep giving me the “are you going to have that baby here and now” look — at work, at the grocery store, in the parking lot as I attempt to lever my glowing pregnant self (read: enormous watermelon body) in and out of the car. They say things like: “looks like that baby’s coming any day now!” Or, “how long do you have there?”  Or my favorite, “WOW, that’s a big belly!”  Thanks.  No, really.  I didn’t know that when I grew out of my maternity jeans a week ago or was forced to go out and buy maternity underwear, something I swore I’d never do (it’s my own hang-up, there’s really nothing wrong with maternity underwear).

 

While I know that next week I will be at full term and in theory could go into labor any time, the fact that my first two children came almost exactly on their due dates gives me a sense of security that the rest of the world doesn’t understand when they see me walking a mile or carrying my own bags out of the grocery store. I’m still planning meetings, and setting family schedules.  Heck I just RSVP’d on an evite for 8 days prior to my due date. Just ask the baby to wait, and he’ll wait.  Makes perfect sense until I really start to think about it, and realize that maybe reality rests somewhere between my own small case of pregnancy-induced denial and everyone else’s hyper-sensitivity to my third trimester.

 

To help accept the fact that I could potentially go into labor soon, I delved into my own practice to give myself a few pieces of advice from the Been There, Done That school of pregnancy.  While every woman is different, here are six things I learned the first two times around about labor, delivery, and life right after that have improved my experience with each baby:

 

1) Try not to absorb or implement all the advice you are given. Mea culpa, I’m breaking my own rule by going all up on the internet to put these words down like I know something.  What a perfect opportunity to highlight that everyone who has ever had a body, mother, sister or friend who was pregnant believes they have great advice to give you. And they may, and it’s good to listen with an open mind. But it’s also okay to think, be, and act differently than your mom, sister, best friend, co-worker, neighbor, or stranger at the checkout counter. Develop some “smile and nod” skills for this.  Sometimes the advice is useful, and if not at least you have something to laugh about with your partner later while they massage the midnight cramps out of your calves.

 

2) It feels good to be prepared, but it does not feel so good to be rigid.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, with our first baby we attended a wonderful birthing class.  With babies two and three, we also went to abbreviated classes for experienced parents — like a birthing refresher course.  In all of the classes we spent time thinking and talking labor and delivery with other people like us — delving into the science behind labor and how to have the birth we wanted (especially in a hospital), gaining confidence the first time, and returning to that feeling the next two times.  Even writing this down helps to bring my mind to a readiness that my body is reaching. However like anything, once someone defines a “typical” process it’s easy to cling to it as the way.  But guess who’s not paying attention in birthing class?  The baby.  They may come into this world in an entirely different way than expected, and it just feels better to be flexible instead of exhausting myself because of any preconceived notions of how birth would be.  Trust me you won’t have that energy to waste while pushing.

 

3) You may find that your natural reaction is to be rigid anyway. When people say “you are in control” in birthing class they are helping to build your confidence and positive outlook, which are all good things.  But the truth is you are not in control and neither is the midwife, doctor, birth coach, partner, or perfect Prince song you have blasting from your ipod on repeat. The baby is driving the bus, and you’re the other most important person there. For a control freak like me, that is so uncool (I’ve told the babies this, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference). My initial reaction is to construct roadblocks, cut off bridges — tell that baby what to do! What a way to set myself up for disappointment. As those among us who meditate might say, let the thoughts of control come into your consciousness, acknowledge them and let them go.  And if that doesn’t work, don’t beat yourself up about it! The baby will come out anyway.

 

4) Nesting is real, baby blues are real, hormonal swings are real — it will be a rollercoaster, you or your partner may not recognize it or know what to do about it, and that’s okay.  Shortly before and after delivery, I do some pretty out of character things. For example I waddled around Ikea with the whole family this weekend, just to soak in all the bedrooms and kitchens and living rooms and daydream about owning and furnishing a house. And while I was in early labor the first time, I went to Target to return some things, roasted a chicken (it made sense at the time — we were going to be out of the house for three days and the chicken would go bad in the fridge), and smudged the house before we left for the hospital to clear the air — nesting anyone? As soon as she came out I was euphoric, then when she went briefly for examination and hubby followed after her, I spent about 20 minutes feeling abandoned and being really angry at my perfect little newborn for how much it had hurt. My sense of calm returned fairly quickly but my embarrassment about the whole thing kept me preoccupied for days, questioning whether there was something wrong with me.  There was not.

 

5) You are in control of what is done to your body and your mind during labor. Most birth stories I hear are essentially stories about communication. Having a good relationship with my doctor was great during pregnancy, and I believe she wrote some key things down in my chart, but what happens when you go into labor while another doc is on call, or just as your midwife arrives halfway across the country at her annual conference? I was able to go with it (see #2 above) when a totally new doctor showed up at the hospital – his office and my doctor’s office shared OB coverage – he listened well to me and communicated well with the hospital staff. Nurses are clearly key to an overall positive experience as they spent the most time with me, but for better or worse in a hospital, doctors call the shots – especially on issues such as interventions or wanting to get up and walk around. This is also where an advocate can be crucial – your birth coach, or a friend, or a doula – whatever you need to feel comfortable, make it happen! If people judge you for creating the best birthing space for you, well then shame on them (and stay focused on you).

 

6) Practice does not make perfect.  It just makes one more at peace with the imperfections. If you can start out that way, you’re totally ahead on the happy mama meter!  You figure out what works for you, no matter what others say.  Then when it stops working, you figure out something else.  Now, if only I could accept this about everyday life.
As I face labor all over again sometime soon I have to say that all in all, I really enjoyed it the first two times. It’s true. And no, it wasn’t easy. But the best things never are.

Great Expectations: Rebecca @ 34 Weeks

This week is my 4 year-old’s birthday, and watching her while this tumbling baby due in six more weeks keeps growing (seriously, he’s perfecting his back handspring in there) has me thinking, not unexpectedly, about my first pregnancy and birth, and the differences now and then.

Around four years, two months ago, I was living a bit of a different life.  I had been married two years, had no children, lived in a smaller, somewhat calmer and more affordable city, and I was having the maternity time of my life.  I was lucky enough to have a very charmed pregnancy without many issues, and did pretty much all of the things the magazines talk about: I took walks every day after work, still happily wore heels pretty much everywhere (I like heels, please don’t judge), daydreamed about baby as I perused our registry, and took a break sometimes for a chemical-free  pedicure. Hubby and I thoroughly enjoyed the birthing class series offered by our hospital where we appeared twice a week for a few weeks, learned about all the options available on our hospital’s perinatal tour, and I read books and websites exploring all the ways to have a great pregnancy and birth and forwarded it all to my mate, who enthusiastically responded to each and every email (he’s a keeper; I reciprocated by going to a few dozen movies he wanted to see while we were expecting).

The most difficult thing that happened during that time was a challenge at work over paid family leave – it was a small office, and our leader did not feel that having a baby “benefited the company.” But I had amazing, supportive coworkers, and we all worked together for an outcome that we felt benefited everyone and still stands today. And when it came time, I got to have the birth I wanted. I labored at home for eight hours, showed up at the hospital with the calm of someone who has no idea what’s coming (carrying my own purse and marching up to the desk like I was looking for the vending machine), and in four hours, we had a baby girl in our arms. Lucky, blessed, prepared, flexible – we were incredibly grateful but clearly could not fully appreciate the comparative ease with which she had arrived and we had become a family.

Fast forward a few years: now in my third pregnancy, we live in a busy city that seems to construct hurdles to daily life just for the fun of it, there isn’t much time to re-read maternity books, I carry my 23lb toddler around until I feel so much pressure in my belly that she must be put down, I see the inside of a real movie theater about twice per year, and I clearly (and I mean clearly) remember how my last (also non-medicated, also in a friendly hospital with great, supportive people around me) labor and birth felt. I wouldn’t have had it any other way, but yes – it hurt. And like many women, I don’t often (or ever) ask for help.

It all leaves me in a bit of a quandary.

Don’t get me wrong, I love living in a city – it fits my personality, my need for a diverse community, and my desire to give our children an experience similar to my own upbringing. And I love my family – just a few minutes with the kids together provides more entertainment that you can imagine, and I am able to participate as they develop and grow has been its own wonder of the world. However, it all has its challenges.

Being an only child myself who was several years older or younger than the other kids in my extended family, I really have no personal experience with what I’m doing right now: parenting two and almost three kids. But I do know how it translates in real time, or I’m figuring it out, minute-by-minute. For example, these days when I read pregnancy magazines in my doctor’s office, which like most magazines are a carefully pieced puzzle of product endorsements and advertising, I think more about the prices of those items than what they could do for my baby – in fact, I think about money all the time. Actually to be fair, I can’t be thinking about money all the time – I haven’t had a full, uninterrupted thought in about… wait for it… four years.

When I’m not thinking about money, I’m talking about dinosaurs and princesses, or how many diapers day care needs, or explaining to my oldest daughter why her little sister (now 15 months old) cannot play with play dough (yes she’ll eat it, even if it doesn’t look like food to you, honey). Then I go back to talking with Hubby about the family schedule, or politics (we dig politics in our house), or money. We had a conversation in the kitchen after the kids went to bed just last night about how we expect a substantive conversation to last all day – we begin while we’re getting dressed, pause to get everyone out the door, then continue to talk in the elevator (60 seconds maximum), load our lot into the car, pause for the day perhaps emailing continuations when we have time, keep going later while someone cooks dinner and the other makes sure no one is eating play dough, pause for bedtime, and then if we are both still awake, finish our talk by midnight. If I want to have a full thought, I “take a break,” which because I sign away my prenatal massage and pedicure funds to preschool now, means taking a trip by myself to go grocery shopping. To be fair, I really like grocery shopping — but it ain’t no mani-pedi.

What I really want to be thinking about right now, six weeks away from baby number three, is getting ready for baby number three. I want to make time for yoga; take a hike through the park, meditate on the aforementioned fear of birth hurting (news flash — I say to myself — it will. You just have to get ready.), or even just remember to stretch before I get into bed at night. The truth is peace is what you make it – yoga is still yoga, even if children are crawling over my warrior pose, and I can think plenty during my morning commute, and no one is stopping me from doing some breathing at night before I go to bed, or for taking a little bit of time to myself – after all, Hubby always makes room for me when I ask for it – it’s a pretty mom-tastic habit, however, to not ask for things for yourself.  These are choices I make, and habits I cultivate – after all, the kids aren’t stressed out when they’re being kids, in fact they have a blast at it.  And the good habits may be harder to stick to than the bad ones, but they will definitely be worth it – at least I think so.  I’ll let you know.