After moving to the Ottawa Valley with our first child, I became the patient of a very feminist Doctor who was childless, although she did have tropical fish and a parrot.
I was an enigma to her as she was to me. The waiting room was filled with well off, professional women needing gynecological care and women in their late thirties or early forties pregnant with their first child. Then, I would walk through the door, at first pregnant with a toddler on my hip and by my last visit with three or four other children clustered around me. Even though I switched doctors to combine a family doctor/obstetrician, this woman went beyond the call of duty for all four births.
Enshrined on this doctor’s desk and encased in glass waere birth control devices that glared at me every time I sat across from her.
After one visit, my obstetrician said, in a teasing tone, “Would you quit bringing your beautiful children to my office. Someone always wants a reversal (from tubal ligation) after you leave.”
A similar comment about our kids came from a priest who said, “You and Michael are nice looking but you make absolutely beautiful babies!”
Pregnant with my fourth child, I came for a scheduled appointment even though labour had begun. I preferred to see her right away rather than wait for her at the hospital because I wanted to go home after visiting her office and put everything in order and arrange childcare.
Apparently babies are born faster, after a few pregnacies. I was not expecting my doctor’s reaction, “This baby is coming soon. You don’t have time to travel all the way home. Use the phone in the office, get a hold of your husband and get someone to meet him with the kids in the hospital parking lot and you go straight to admitting ahead of him.”
I walked into the waiting room, called my brother-in-law and explained the situation, laughing at my self as I apologised to him. A contraction hit, I breathed through the pain and then gathered all the kids together and left her office for the hospital.
An hour later she bustled into the delivery room and announced, “Well you sure impressed my entire waiting room! Everyone thinks you are super woman.”
Two hours later, standing with assistance and enduring long contractions that were turning my baby completely around, I was anything but super woman. I wailed , “I thought you said this delivery was going to be fast!”
It didn’t help that seven or eight student nurses, obstetrical residents and medical students stood in a half circle around me, watching a woman give birth without drugs or an epidural, to her fourth child. (I was not trying to be super mom, natural birth was better for delivery because I could work with my body and therefore prevented tearing and stitches. I could sit cross-legged on the bed right after and feel wonderful and much lighter
My fifth birth was even faster. On Christmas Eve we gave the kids baths in the afternoon, a tortiere was baking in the oven almost ready for an early dinner and I had just laid out dresses, white tights, ribbons for the girls and outfits for the boys to wear to church when the contractions started coming hard and fast. In fact I barely could get my boots on. Michael drove very quickly to the hospital. When I stepped into admitting, the lights were dim, Christmas lights were shining on the tree and strung along the walls and two relaxed nurses were leaning against the counter.
“So “, one of the nurses calmly asked, “Is this your first?”
“ No”, I gasped, “My fifth.”
“Your Fifth?”, her head jerked up and her eyes popped open. “Sandra, get the elevator right now and then grab a wheelchair. I’ll phone obstetrics so they can get ready for her!!!”
Michael followed the parade carrying David who refused to stay with our baffled neighbour; Dad assumed he had time to take him back home.
The obstetrical nurse told him, You aren’t going anywhere if you want to see this baby’s birth. Give him to the desk clerk and tell her to give him crackers.” By the way, David thoroughly enjoyed his adoring fans out at the nurses’ station. My dress was literally yanked over my head, my tights whipped off, the doctor ran in to the delivery room and Emily was born 45 minutes later.
And my slightly baffled doctor STILL showed up within 20 minutes on Christmas Eve!!
Melanie Jean Juneau is a petite wife, writer and mother of nine children. When the words "The Joy of Mothering on a Hobby Farm" popped into her head as a subtitle for her short stories it was like an epiphany for her because those few words verbalized her experience living with little people. The very existence of a joyful mother of nine children seems to confound people. Her writing is humorous and heart warming; thoughtful and thought provoking with a strong currant of spirituality running through it. Part of her call and her witness is to write the truth about children, family, marriage and the sacredness of life, especially a life lived in God. My writing is humourous and heart warming/ thoughtful and thought provoking with a strong currant of spirituality running through it. Part of my call and my witness is to write the truth about children, family, marriage and the sacredness of life, especially a life lived in God
Such a lovely account of your birth experiences. It still amazes me that you did this 9 times! There is a special grace over you. May God continue to sustain and bless you.
More grace than I realized at the time
You are a super woman! All nine of your kids were natural births?! I would love to interrogate you about that whole experience.. my husband and I are planning to start trying March 2013 (right now I use fertility tracking and lots of prayer as my birthcontrol of choice!), but I have so many questions and decisions I’d like to make before then! I’m interested in what you said about natural birth being more comfortable and preventing tearing.. so many of my epidural friends swore by their hospital meds, I just don’t think they’re right for me.. but I’m afraid!
I was petrfied 32 years ago- women only shared AFTER you joined the mother’s inner circle but natural childbirth and Lamaze classes were very much in vogue. Basically , you can move with the urge to push when you feel pain, with an epdural, a woman is not sure when to push and often tears as a result. Also pain deminishes when we breathe with contractions and vocus on our husband’ face or some other distraction because the brain can only take in so many messages at a time
I work at a residency program, so LOVED the paragraph about the med students..ha!
me too
Lovely Melanie.
And thank-you for all your support and virtual hugs
LOL! Melanie, I laughed throughout your whole post. It all sounded to familiar, including birthing without medication. I love the part about the student nurses/residents since it brought back of my days as a nursing student….after watching a woman give birth, I was horrified and swore to myself that I would never, ever , ever have kids. LOL!!
ha!–and look at you now!
Love it! I’ve recently given birth to an adorable baby girl – my fourth. It was such fun to assure my obstetrician that I hoped to see him again soon!
good for you!!!
Beautiful post, Melanie! Actions always speak louder than words!
YES, yes they do
Your doctor sounds brilliant, but you certainly deserve the medal. Terrific story. I had to keep reading to find out what happens next.
that is the best comment for a new writer
Ha—-I bet most men would rather be in the waitingroom pacing, including my husband. He hates the fact that he cannot really DO anything but love me.