real stories

Amy. second time mom.

How My Midwives Helped Me

One mom from our birth center here in Wheat Ridge tells her story of a birth that didn’t necessarily go as planned and how her midwife helped her through it.

This birth story involves a newborn resuscitation and may be scary for some readers. The baby recovered completely and went home after a short hospital stay.

birth story amy bedMy son’s birth was fast and pretty scary. After only about 2 1/2 hours of contractions, we barely had time to get to Baby+Company. My baby was was born as soon as we got into the center. After he was born, my birth team realized he had meconium in his lungs and wasn’t breathing. The paramedics needed to be called.

As I have told my birth story to others, many have asked, “why didn’t you just go to the hospital?”. There may have been things I would have appreciated about our son coming into the world in a hospital, but we didn’t “just go to the hospital” because it never crossed our minds. Midwives were supposed to deliver my baby. However, or wherever (Amy was geared up for my hallway birth) it happened, I wanted midwives to help me become a mom for the second time.

How did my midwives help me? The second I saw Amy (she met us at the car after all) I felt a sense of, not calm really (I mean, I was minutes from delivering) but once I saw her, I felt safe. Whatever happened now, Amy was there to be our guide.

How did my midwives help me? Amy’s voice told me what I needed to do, and I did it. Amy’s hands pushed air into my son’s lungs, and he breathed.

How did my midwives help me? Because of the dangerous situation, we went from one midwife to three. Tracy, whom I had never met before, was suddenly the only person I could reach. As color entered his little body, she supported me, literally and figuratively. I didn’t know her, but I knew she was there to help in all the ways she knew how.

How did my midwives help me? Once Amy, my husband, and my baby were on their way to the hospital, Laura helped me take a breath and ensured I was well cared for in those empty moments when I felt alone. She made sure I was stitched up and tenderly helped me to the restroom. She filled the tub that washed away the blood as what had just happened began to sink in.

As I reread this, over and over, trying to figure out what is missing, I’m struck that words do not do justice to the ways my midwives helped me.

Words like sisterhood, power, and courage are needed.

Words like presence, connection, and real should be mentioned.

Words like saved.

So, why didn’t I just go to the hospital people ask?

Because midwives were supposed to deliver my baby.

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