Two Women, A Birth, and the Personal Side of Research
This is a story about two women whose paths crossed in an unusual way. One moment we were sociology graduate students and friendly acquaintances, the next we were sharing in one of life's most intimate experiences. We were brought together in this way because of one author's research and one author's life experience. What follows is a layered account of our story. Our experience taught us about the personal side of research and the way our life experiences influence our research. Our story illustrates the overlap and interconnection among academic research, community involvement, and the everyday lives of research participants (including both researcher and the subjects of research). The two accounts were written separately and then pieced together. It is interesting to note where our stories sound very similar and where we attend to different details.
I met Shannon in the fall of 1998. I was a third year Ph.D. student and she had just entered the Master's program in sociology at the University of Florida. We talked on occasion about classes and teaching. Little did we know that about one and a half years later we would share a significant personal as well as professional experience.
I met Lara when I began graduate study in racial and ethnic inequality at the University of Florida in 1998. My relationship with Lara consisted mainly of work-related discussions about graduate courses, teaching, and the sociology department. I had no idea that she would later attend my birth.
In the spring of 1999 I began my dissertation research in the midwifery community in Gainesville, Florida. Having not experienced childbirth or motherhood, I found myself entrenched in a world where the blood and sweat of childbirth was a normal part of everyday life. I had much to learn in order to be a legitimate member of this community. I began reading and taking courses, learning about the mechanics and emotional components of pregnancy and birth. I thought it would be a good idea to attend a birth, but could not imagine asking a stranger if I could observe what many consider to be one of the most intensely personal and intimate moments of their lives.
During the summers of 1999 and 2000, as part of my research preparation, I took part in training seminars, to learn how to be a doula. Doulas are trained to provide emotional support, comfort measures, and advocacy for the laboring woman and her partner. They work as volunteers or paid support people in hospitals, birth centers, and home birth settings. This caregiving role has emerged as an occupation within maternity care over the past decade (Morton 2000). The 2000 workshop was specifically geared toward providing labor support for women who are survivors of sexual abuse. Following the initial workshop, several women who attended attempted to initiate a doula cooperative. We had many meetings in which we learned from experienced doulas, watched videotapes of doulas at work, and discussed advertising and trying to gain entry into the hospital.
I became unexpectedly pregnant during my second year of graduate school and was concerned about the impact a child would have on my graduate degrees. My partner Chad and I had been together for ten months when we discovered the pregnancy. After about three weeks of contemplating if we were ready to have a child together, we decided that we were.
I decided that I wanted to give birth at a birth center with a midwife. I wanted to fully experience the birth without drugs and possibly give birth in the water. My family was a bit apprehensive about my decision, but they supported my choices. When I went to The Birth Center of Gainesville, I knew that I had chosen the right place. The space was very comfortable, and I felt at ease with the two midwives and their assistants. They always told me that my growing belly looked beautiful and applauded my weight gain. I had read about doulas and knew that I wanted to have one assist my birth, but was unsure of how to find one. When a friend told me that Lara had been training to become a doula, I immediately wanted her to be the one.
I remember when I found out that Shannon was pregnant. Excited about my newly acquired knowledge of pregnancy and birth, I would talk to her each time I saw her about her pregnancy experience and what kind of birth she was planning. One of my students who was a friend of Shannon told me that Shannon didn't know which student midwives would be attending her birth and hoped that it would be ones she had already met. I called Shannon to assure her that I knew all of the student midwives who worked at the birth center and that I believed any of them would be supportive and competent. I also suggested that she might want to consider having a doula with her during labor and birth. I told her about the training course that I had taken, that I knew several doulas, and that I would be happy to introduce her.
She asked me to be her doula. I was both thrilled and scared. The opportunity to attend a birth would give new meaning to my research experience. I was writing about midwives' work narratives, so had heard lots of talk about the work of midwives but hadn't actually seen them in action. I had taken the doula training course as a researcher, not as an aspiring doula. Could I give Shannon and her husband the kind of support they wanted and needed? I agreed to do it.
So I met Shannon's husband Chad and Shannon and I met a couple of times specifically to talk about her expectations and fears about birth. After attending childbirth classes, Shannon and Chad had put together a birth plan, outlining, among other things, which they wanted to attend the birth, their music preferences, the types of interventions they would accept, and what they wanted to happen in case of an emergency. Although I had taken a couple of childbirth education classes, I took a full series of classes at the birth center in preparation for attending this birth.
There was some uncertainty about Shannon's due date, and so it seemed as though we were waiting all summer. I bought a vibrating battery for my cell phone so that I could leave it turned on all the time. All of my plans that summer was tentative: "I'll be there, unless Shannon goes into labor." I'm sure my experience of waiting was very different from Shannon's and Chad's, but nevertheless waiting was as a major theme of my summer of 2000.
Eighteen months have passed since I gave birth to Joshua. My memories are just as vivid and foggy as they were the day after; the physical and emotional sensations are clear, while my actions and those of others around me are a blur. My labor started at home. I had not planned for my mom to attend my birth, but she happened to be in town when I went into labor. I was glad that she was there. My mom and I began timing contractions around 8:00 p.m. They were five minutes apart and strong. During each contraction, my mom would rub my legs and feet. This helped calm me and allowed me to relax between contractions. I was at peace knowing that my baby would soon be born.
Chad came home from work about an hour later and started frantically cleaning our already spotless house. Soon everything changed. The contractions were coming about every minute and they were very intense. The pain I felt in my back persisted between contractions. We called the birth center and I insisted that it was time to go in. Cat Stevens' song "But I Might Die Tonight" played in the car as we drove through the rain to the birth center.
When we arrived the midwife checked my dilation. I was only three centimeters. She said I was having back labor and that it was causing my Braxton-Hicks contractions to feel the same as my real contractions. She told me to go home and take a hot bath and then try to get some rest. The hot bath helped me relax and slowed the Braxton-Hicks contractions.
I can't remember when or why I decided to get out of the tub. At some point the pain became so intense that I didn't know what to do. Chad and my mom had been taking turns massaging my back and supporting my body during contractions. The pain was far more intense than I had expected. We all felt that we should do something, but didn't know exactly what. We decided to call Lara. I think we all expected that she would magically relieve the pain because she was trained to assist birthing women. She had a few tools that were helpful, including a frozen rolling pin and a long tube-sock filled with rice and heated in the microwave. Doulas use these to massage and provide comfort during labor. Nonetheless, Lara couldn't stop the pain. Finally, I couldn't bear it anymore. I told my mom that I wanted to go to the hospital and get an epidural. She talked me into going to the birth center instead.
Shannon and Chad called at about 8:50 p.m. on Monday night. She said her contractions were about eight minutes apart. She sounded good, happy to finally be in labor. I did not hear from them again until 2:00 a.m. Tuesday. In the meantime they had gone to the birth center at about 10:00 p.m. and found out that she was dilated about two centimeters, so they went back home. During this time, I was excited and made sure my bag was ready to go. I reviewed some of my notes about early labor and at 11:00 p.m. decided to take a little nap. I was scared that I would sleep through the phone call, so I put the phone right next to me in the bed. I must have dreamed that they had called because I woke up at one point and thought I had missed the whole thing. Finally, at 2:00 a.m., Chad called and told me what had been happening and asked me to come to the house because Shannon was having severe back labor.
When I arrived, I met Shannon's mother, who had actually not planned to be present for the birth; she was supposed to have returned home that day. They told me they had tried walking and lying down, but neither was helping Shannon. She couldn't sleep between contractions, although she was very tired. I suggested kneeling and lying on the chair -which didn't really work. I suggested a cold Tupperware rolling pin to massage her back -which didn't really work either, although we did use it a couple of times for her to lean against in between contractions. The one thing that was working was for Shannon to sit in a highback kitchen chair covered with pillows and to have the three of us (me, Chad, and Shannon's mom) take turns with one behind her rubbing her back and the other sitting on a chair in front of her so she could lean over on us. Before I had gotten there, her mom had started saying things like "relax, let it go, release your shoulders, your toes, breathe through it, etc." This was working and Shannon was responding really well to her mom. Each time her mom said those words; I could feel Shannon's body relax. I thought Shannon was dealing with the contractions beautifully, peacefully, although I doubt that she was feeling that way.
At about 4:00 a.m. Shannon started saying that she wanted to go to the hospital for drugs. Her mom told her she didn't think they would give them to her at this point. They decided to call Mary Ann, the midwife, who said she would be at the birth center in 20 minutes. We kept trying to time contractions, but we weren't doing a very precise job of it. I think Shannon just knew it was time to go. At one point, Shannon's mom said something like "if I'm not with you, just remember to keep breathing," and Shannon told her mom that she wanted her to come. Prior to going to the birth center I was a little worried about Chad. He was a bit anxious and also really tired. A couple times he started dancing or doing something that distracted Shannon during her contractions and she had to ask him to stop.
While at home, her mother's support was wonderful and I thought it was so beautiful to watch them together. In between contractions, Shannon would sit back in the chair and try to doze off while her mother held her head. It was really touching. So around 4:00 a.m. we took three cars to the birth center, Shannon and Chad in one, her mom in another, and I took my own.
My cervix had dilated to eight centimeters and my water had broken by the time we arrived at the birth center. Chad turned on some music and we got in the tub together. At first it was relaxing. The hot water helped relieve my pain between contractions. After about 30 minutes, I decided I couldn't sit in the tub because no one could reach my back to massage it during contractions. The pain was unbearable. I finally told my midwife that I wanted to get an epidural. She calmly reminded me that it would numb the lower half of my body and that I may not be able to push. I asked if it would make the pain stop and she said yes. She convinced me to let her check my dilation before I left.
When we arrived at the birth center, Mary Ann did an exam and Shannon was at eight centimeters. This was a big relief to her mom, who I think was having a hard time (although holding up very well) seeing her daughter in pain. We were all happy that the work at home had been effective and that Shannon was making progress. Shannon and Chad came into the waiting room, and Chad said to Shannon's mom and me that Shannon needed some encouragement, which of course we offered profusely. She had a contraction or two, standing, leaning against Chad.
Next, Shannon got into the tub and sat for several contractions. She alternately liked and then didn't like having the jets turned on, so Chad turned them either on or off as she requested. For a while her mother was wiping her head and face with a cold cloth. Her back was still hurting badly and Chad was in the water with her rubbing her back. He needed to change positions, so I knelt on a stool and leaned over the tub to rub one side of her back while he rubbed the other. Shannon's mom was there with encouraging words. Chad was very encouraging, but Shannon was responding so obviously to her mother. While she was in the tub, she said that she wanted to go to the hospital that she couldn't go through with it. I think her mom might have asked her to try one more contraction or something, but then Shannon repeated her request, and her obviously worried mom asked me to go get Mary Ann. If I had been more experienced, I would have trusted my sense that this was a good sign, that Shannon was probably almost ready to push, but I went to get Mary Ann. Mary Ann talked to Shannon and said why don't you get out of the tub and we'll do another exam to see where you are. By then I think the first student midwife Donna had shown up. Shannon's mom and I left the room while they did the exam. While we were in the next room, I heard them all moaning, and again I thought this is a good sign.
I was ten centimeters and it was almost time to push. All of a sudden I felt really cold. I remember sitting on the bed with a blanket around me and my teeth chattering. Within minutes I felt warm again.
The moaning was a good sign. She was at ten centimeters and almost ready to start pushing. Either Chad or Mary Ann came out and said to Shannon's mom that Shannon wanted to tell her that she could do it. Shannon moaned through several contractions, half sitting up in bed. She looked beautiful and peaceful between contractions. Her mom, Chad, and the midwives kept telling her she was doing great.
The next few hours are a blur. I remember sitting on the bed, feeling the contractions. I was pushing, but my main focus was getting through each contraction. Every now and then the midwife would ask me to get up and walk at least to the bathroom. I can barely remember anyone else being there. I recall Chad and Lara feeding me water through a straw after each contraction. Chad was holding my hand most of the time or massaging my back. I remember my mom coming in and out of the room. Mostly, it's all a blur. The pain was so intense, and I was just focusing on getting through.
The midwives suggested that Shannon try getting on her knees and leaning against the birth ball on the bed. She tried that for a contraction or two and didn't really like it. She went into the bathroom and went through a few contractions on her own. She didn't want anyone in the bathroom with her. At this point and throughout the rest of the birth, Sarah, another student midwife, was monitoring the baby's heart rate after each contraction. When Shannon started pushing, she was most comfortable sort of half sitting up in the bed. The midwives, especially Sarah, were giving her a lot of direction in terms of pushing: "tuck your chin, take all that tension you are keeping in your face and send it downward," etc. Mary Ann explained how the baby would go down and then back up, down and then back up, getting itself ready to move past the pubic bone. Chad kept asking if the baby was past the pubic bone yet. Mary Ann kept saying no, not yet, it's still rocking back and forth. Once the head was visible, Mary Ann held up a mirror and shone a flashlight so that Shannon and Chad could see the head. Shannon pushed for a long time. Mary Ann kept encouraging her to do a couple of contractions standing up. Shannon would do one standing up and then want to get back into bed. Then at one point she did several standing up. She would start out standing up and then, holding on to Chad, would go to a full squat position. I was supporting Chad from behind. There was a midwife on either side of Shannon. Finally, she was in bed again for the final efforts.
Then the sun rose. I knew this pushing stage had been going on for a long time, but I had no concept of minutes or hours. Finally my midwife told me that the baby's heart rate was dropping and that she might have to have an episiotomy. I knew I had to push him out. During the next contraction everyone groaned with me and I pushed really hard. My midwife told me she could see the baby's head. She placed a mirror between my legs so I could see him. During the next contraction I gave one really hard push. All of the sudden there was a beautiful bluish-gray bundle lying on my stomach. "Oh, Shannon," my mom gasped. Chad started crying. After a moment of shock and amazement, we all started rubbing on the baby to stimulate him. Feelings of peace and love overwhelmed me. My beautiful baby was finally born.
At one point Mary Ann told Shannon that the baby's heart rate was dropping with the pushing. She said that that was okay; it just meant the baby was tired too. She said that if we need to get this baby out fast, we will cut an episiotomy, but we're not there yet. Very soon after that, Shannon gave several really strong pushes. I was amazed when the head started coming out. He came out fast.
I cried; Shannon's mom cried; Chad cried. I don't think I saw Shannon cry. She just placed the baby on her belly, and it was as if she hadn't just been in a lot of pain and been working really hard only seconds ago. She started talking to the baby in her normal tone. Chad cut the cord and handed me the scissors.
My baby and I were never separated at the birth center. The midwives did a few tests on him, but he never left the room. We also took a bath together. It was amazing to see how calm he looked when his body was immersed in the water. He seemed peaceful and comfortable, as though he were still in the womb. The midwives helped me begin breastfeeding him and later assisted me when breastfeeding became difficult. I was pleased with the support I received from everyone involved. It was truly the most amazing experience of my life.
Although at the house I was a little nervous about Chad, as soon as we got to the birth center, he really stepped up to the plate. He was wonderful. I think Shannon's mom was having a hard time seeing and hearing her daughter in pain. She did a really good job of staying in the waiting room away from Shannon when she was nervous or anxious. When she was in the room with Shannon, her support was great.
I think that I was lucky to have the first birth I attended be so "textbook." Everything from the physical things that were happening to the emotions that Shannon expressed at different stages was just exactly as they had been described in childbirth classes. I was surprised by how I experienced time. The six hours that I spent with them flew by. Maybe if they had asked me to come over at 10:00 p.m. instead of 2:00 a.m., I might have been more exhausted, but I was exhilarated when I left the birth center.
I felt as though I didn't do very much. Shannon had great support from two people who really know her and love her. I kind of just filled in (or as Chad would say "tagged out") when they needed a break. I think that when I first got there, Shannon's mom was doing great and Chad was doing okay, but maybe a little scared or not sure what to do. If her mom had not been there, I think I would have taken charge a little more. By the time we got to the birth center, Chad was doing great and just needed a little relief for bathroom breaks.
So, overall, I'm grateful that Shannon and Chad (and Joshua) allowed me to be part of such an intimate and personal experience for them. I was in awe of Shannon's strength and beauty during birth. People say that birth is a miracle, and I thought that too when Joshua was born, but in a different way than I thought I would. I'm not sure I have the words for it, but the miracle to me was that it all worked: that there was a baby inside of Shannon and that her body and this tiny baby worked together to get the baby out. I guess I always thought of the "miracle" as more of a spiritual thing, but now I think of it as a physical thing.
In addition to providing me with my wonderful son, my pregnancy and childbirth experience changed my research interests. I was enrolled in a contemporary theory course throughout the latter half of my pregnancy. For that course I wrote several papers analyzing pregnancy self-help books. The mainstream literature focuses too much on the physical aspects of pregnancy and childbirth and fails to give enough attention to the social and emotional aspects of the experience. While my body was experiencing tremendous changes, I felt as though I were changing on a deeper level. My thoughts, values and free-time activities centered more around nutrition and health and less on going out and drinking beer. I became a morning person instead of a night person. Even my taste in music changed, as some of my old favorites just sounded too loud and harsh. Pregnancy and childbirth marked a transition in my whole state of being. I now focus my research on the social and emotional transformation associated with pregnancy and childbirth. My research explores the meanings first-time mothers attribute to their childbirth experiences. Preliminary interviews indicate that many women focus more of their discussion on the lifestyle and interpersonal relationship changes that accompany pregnancy and childbirth than on the physical aspects.
Soon after Shannon's birth experience, I attempted to "exit" the research field. I felt that I had collected plenty of data and was ready to focus all my attention on writing my dissertation. Exiting wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. I had become an integral part of the alternative birth community in Gainesville. The midwifery school where I had been working as a volunteer invited me to serve as their academic director. I accepted. Shannon became a close friend, and when I accepted an academic position in the spring of 2001, I recommend Shannon as my replacement. The midwives love Shannon and Joshua, and she is doing great work for the school and the community.
Attending Shannon's birth was an amazing life experience that breathed new energy into my research and teaching. I have a much more realistic understanding of my research "subject." I teach classes in medical sociology and in reproduction and birth. Students benefit from my "real life" stories of childbirth, stories that I would not be able to tell if Shannon hadn't invited me to attend her birth.
I also became active in the midwifery community. I took over Lara's job as Academic Director of the Florida School of Traditional Midwifery. This work enables me to maintain ties with local midwives and help aspiring midwives work toward licensure. I feel lucky that during my birth experience I had support from Lara, Chad, my mom, and my midwife, all of whom throughout the process continued to lovingly remind me of how I wanted to give birth. My hope is that every woman can have the emotional support necessary to give birth the way that is best for her.
- Morton, Christine. 2000. "Problematizing Caregiving on Childbirth: The Case of Doula (Labor Support) Practice." Paper presented at the annual meetings of the American Sociological Association, Washington, D.C.
