I took a pregnancy test on top of a mountain. it said positive— now what?
Why aren’t we taught in school (or anywhere for that matter) about the magic and power of birth? Birth is the only way we get here, yet we know so little about it. And the magic that exists is misunderstood, feared, and quite frankly, shut down. Women’s bodies create human beings, and they even create an entire organ just for pregnancy. Let’s dive deeper into the mystery of birth and an option you may not know you have.
Now, I have plenty of friends who don’t want kids, and that’s just as okay as wanting them, but that’s not the point. Even if you don’t want children, you are here because a woman birthed you. We are all part of birth, even if we don’t want to give birth ourselves. There are roughly 8 billion people on the planet. With that figure, I think it’s safe to say- birth works. So, why don’t we trust the birth process when there are 8 billion people alive today?
So, there I stood — alone in all of my glory — on top of a mountain on my brother and sister’s 36-acre piece of property. I squatted down under the clear blue sky (not the pregnancy test brand I was using; although I did buy that brand at some point, considering I took about four tests in a row) and urinated on the stick. Positive.
I looked up at a moving cloud, and tears welled up in my eyes as I told my higher power, “Thank you.” My dream had come true. I was 33 years old, and I’d waited my whole life to have a baby. And there I was— thrilled. Pregnant. Forever changed, both physiologically and spiritually. I didn’t know the father well at the time, and though I was on cloud nine (almost literally) and the happiest I’d ever felt, it wasn’t long before I found myself nothing short of scared.
How many of us, when we first find out we’re pregnant, ask ourselves:
How is all of this about to go down?
Will I be a good mom?
Will I pass down my negative traits?
Jeez, I need to work on myself fast so I’m more evolved by the time this baby arrives
What am I not supposed to eat?
Really? No deli meat? Certain cheeses are bad? Oh no! I had that on my pizza yesterday. Is my baby okay? Well, my mom ate all of that, and I turned out pretty okay, right?
How do I want to give birth?
I want this baby, right? Of course, I do — it’s my rainbow baby!
But how much of my lifestyle do I actually have to change? Can I function without coffee?
Back up a few years
A miracle was unfolding. Life events led me to discover the art of midwifery. I joined the Peace Corps, where I was exposed to some “wild” birth practices in Togo, Africa— to put it lightly. Abuse is what I’d call it. Peace Corps teachers wisely told volunteers to remove our American lenses during our time in Togo. It was the most expansive and formative piece of advice I’ve been given to date.
But I couldn’t shake my lenses loose for one particular birth I witnessed at the village clinic. The Togolese midwife sent for me when a young woman went into labor. I excitedly scurried the 400 feet from my hut to the clinic. I’d only seen one birth before this, in the U.S., and I didn’t know it yet, but birth would turn out to be something too fascinating for me to admire from afar.
I walked into the clinic, and there she was, heavily pregnant and clearly in pain. The midwife hooked her up to an IV and told her to lie on her back on a flat padded examination table. I was already uncomfortable but tried to stay in witness mode. I couldn’t help but feel trapped and claustrophobic for the scared woman. The midwife scolded her to push, as if the adult mother-to-be was a child sneaking a candy bar out of the pantry. When the woman didn’t push to her liking, the midwife swatted her on the arm.
Then a man entered. He was a doctor. He made a quick assessment, exchanged a few words with the midwife, and gave a disappointed look; as if he’d forgotten something at the store. Without saying anything to the laboring woman, he climbed onto the examination table, straddled her backward, and began pushing down on her belly with his hands to force the baby out. The woman howled. The midwife swatted her again, and she quieted. I stared in disgust before I ran outside to throw up. I quit the Peace Corps shortly afterward.
Human Rights
I couldn’t remove my American lenses, and after reflection, I realized that wasn’t the issue. This wasn’t about culture. It wasn’t imperialistic of me to feel in my bones that this woman deserved more— deserved better. This was about human rights. Human rights for everyone, everywhere, no matter where they’re from.
That experience was the straw that broke the camel’s back— I was to become a midwife with the plan of one day returning to Africa. I wanted to show these women their birthright and immense power. I wanted to remind them what they already knew- they not only could give birth (because their bodies were born for this), but they deserved to have whatever kind of birth they wanted in the most loving, solid, safe environment possible. So, I left Africa. And a month after being back in the U.S., I started midwifery school in El Paso, Texas. I finished the program, moved to Colorado, and got pregnant.
Now, does what happened to that brave woman happen to American women? Maybe not exactly, but some (too many) women in the U.S. who put everything into their doctors’ hands are abused. I’ve had friends tell me about their hospital birth experiences:
- Did the doctor ask my friend if it was okay to cut an episiotomy? No.
- Did my friend think she should have been asked? No.
- Did another friend refuse Pitocin to get labor going? No. Did she know it wasn’t necessary? No.
- Did another dispute the use of a vacuum to pull her baby out? No.
And many of these ended in C-sections, which often happens when human intervention gets its wheels in motion. Was one of the most empowering experiences of a woman’s life stripped from her? Absolutely.
And what’s going on with the higher maternal mortality rate for Black women compared to White women? The CDC reports that “In 2021, the maternal mortality rate for non-Hispanic Black women was 69.9 deaths per 100,000 live births, 2.6 times the rate for non-Hispanic White women (26.6).” That is simply unacceptable. Is it racism? Yes. Do doctors take Black women less seriously than White women? Birth stories from Black women seem to say so.
But we’re here to talk about midwifery care. Most midwives (the good ones) give Black and White women alike the attention, nourishment, and care they need. Midwives provide a holistic approach to care, which is crucial to the evolution of our species. A traumatic birth vs. a peaceful, empowering one sets the stage for the rest of a baby’s life.
According to a 2020 report from the World Health Organization, the U.S. ranks 55th in the world for maternal mortality. 55th! How is that possible in one of the wealthiest and most educated nations?
And we are one of the wealthiest and most educated! That means 54 countries have a lower maternal mortality rate than we, as Americans, do. According to a PubMed article from the Canadian Medical Association:
“The rate of perinatal death per 1,000 births was 0.35 in the group of planned home births; the rate in the group of planned hospital births was 0.57 among women attended by a midwife and 0.64 among those attended by a physician. Women in the planned home-birth group were significantly less likely than those who planned a midwife-attended hospital birth to have obstetric interventions such as electronic fetal monitoring, relative risk-assisted vaginal delivery, or adverse maternal outcomes like postpartum hemorrhage. The findings were similar in the comparison with physician-assisted hospital births. Newborns in the home-birth group were less likely than those in the midwife-attended hospital-birth group to require resuscitation at birth or oxygen therapy beyond 24 hours. The findings were similar in comparison with newborns in physician-assisted hospital births; in addition, newborns in the home-birth group were less likely to have meconium aspiration and more likely to be admitted to the hospital or readmitted if born in a hospital.”
Wow. But what about the reality behind the numbers and statistics? Women are born to have babies (if they want to, of course). We aren’t told this by our moms or aunts, or even by Google, but our babies know how to come out! It’s their instinct. And our bodies know how to get them out. Our heads may not, but our bodies do! Our bodies are so intelligent, but our minds don’t give them the chance to show off. Why? Fear. And because of how many of us look at doctors as gods when, really, the “gods” are the pregnant body and the baby inside.
Restoration of Self-Empowerment
What if we believed that our baby and body are the wisest things in the room? And what if this belief held the same weight as our belief that red means stop and green means go? What if we trusted birth so much that we didn’t view it as medical? Hospitals are for sick people, after all.
Am I anti-hospital? No! Hospitals serve a grand purpose. But why would a healthy, low-risk pregnant person start labor in a fluorescent-lit room with their arm hooked up to tubes restricting movement, when the ability to move is not only natural but crucial in labor? Seems a little peculiar, right? But isn’t that the only safe way to have a baby? Actually, it’s not.
I had my two babies at home with a midwife. I know not all births are smooth, and certified midwives know when it’s time to call it and go to the hospital. Don’t get me wrong— I have friends who loved their hospital birth, and that’s great! But I’m talking about the many, many women out there who haven’t had a great experience. In fact, their experience has been pretty atrocious, and they are brave enough to share their horror stories. And you know, there are plenty of stories that don’t get shared. There should be no horror stories when it comes to birth. Most midwives love hospitals because when it’s out of their scope, they humbly think, “Doc, help! You’re awesome, work your magic!” But why start interventions if they aren’t needed just because a protocol says so? Once human intervention begins, it often becomes a cascade-effect, leading to a C-section.
According to the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health:
“Rising C-section rates are a problem all over the world, but it’s particularly notable in the United States. C-sections have skyrocketed in the U.S. since the mid-1970s. In just one generation, this country’s C-section rate has increased by 500%. One in three babies is now born via C-section — compare that to one in 20 in the mid-70s. And a mother who has a C-section for her first delivery is overwhelmingly more likely to have C-sections for future deliveries. And while it’s incredibly common, it’s still major surgery — with a range of potential complications, such as hemorrhage or infection.”
Neel Shah, the director of the Delivery Decisions Initiative at Ariadne Labs and an obstetrician-gynecologist, has shown that
“the hospital where a woman gives birth may be the single most important factor in whether or not she has a C-section.” In an interview with Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, Shah goes on to say about the spike in C-sections in the U.S.: “What that hospital environment looked like has changed dramatically. And we now deliver 99% of our babies in these environments that basically look like ICUs. That’s part of what is different. If you take a healthy mom, put her in an ICU, and surround her with surgeons, you’ll get a lot of surgery.”
So, I went into labor and labored on my own for a while. I knew this was the window for my baby and me to go on a deep journey— just the two of us. No doctor, no midwife (she wasn’t there yet), and I was okay with that. No harsh lights, no tube in my arm to restrict me. Sure, my partner was there, but when it comes down to it, birth is about mama and baby. It’s an initiation. Labor is what turns girls into women; something inexplicable and mystical happens during natural childbirth, and the woman is never the same again.
Cats and dogs give birth in alleys without a doctor every day. Are we too scared of pain? Do we not understand or have a good relationship with pain? Does our society give us a skewed view of the unknown? Are we afraid the baby will die without a doctor? Isn’t there a voice in you, even if faint, that yearns to return to your roots? Do you want to think for yourself? Do you want to make an informed decision? You can only make one if you know the options out there. And to most Americans, a home birth is considered foolish, scary, and taboo. But why? Because in the movies, you only see women in hospital beds screaming bloody murder and sweating profusely, and if something goes wrong, they want to be in the comfort of a hospital.
Needless to say- that one particular African birth inspired me to glean knowledge from school, so I could go back and show those women the birth experience they deserve. I want to remind them of their birthright. I graduated from midwifery school, moved to Salida, Colorado, and kiss, kiss, bam, bam I went in for a sonogram. It’s a girl! I went again at 20 weeks, and they told me via the portal (over a computer screen!) my baby had a hole in her heart and that it was a marker for Down syndrome. Have a good day!
Wow! I immediately called them. They didn’t get back to me for over 24 hours. It felt like an eternity. I was furious, fired my doctor, and told myself, “Get a midwife and stick to a midwife. You just graduated midwifery school, what are you doing?”
Birthing with a Midwife- sound scary?
I started care with a midwife, and immediately I felt safe — mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I trusted her right away, and she reignited my trust in birth. She reignited my trust in my baby and myself. You can’t be in trust and fear at the same time, right? Home birth midwives are wise grandmother witches (much unlike the type of “witch” that labeled them during the Salem Witch Trials) holding space for the mystery and respecting nature as it is. Midwives have gone to school, have a medical background in birth, and we are trained to know what is abnormal in pregnancy, during labor, and postpartum. We know when things are out of our scope of practice. We know the danger signs and when it is time to head to the hospital. Today, in some states in our country, the practice of midwifery is illegal. Midwives are simply the gatekeepers between worlds. We are not God, and we cannot predict the outcome of your birth. Any midwife who claims otherwise- beware! But in most cases, midwives humbly know their role. Working in tandem with an OBGYN is a common path taken when a pregnant mother wants to also have midwifery care.
I had two “butter births” at home. I’d like to say it was because I was in my own home, own bed, and own bathroom. I was comfortable and at ease in my environment. Some home births do end in hospitals, and that’s beautiful! Ending in the hospital is not a failure. It is a success in my book. Why? Because you trusted birth enough to give it a shot at home without intervention. You were flexible enough to take a detour to the hospital without hesitation to ensure the safety of you and your baby. You made an informed decision. Are non-informed choices really choices? Not to me.
Major benefits when you work with a midwife
So, I encourage you to learn more about home birth if you are interested. And if you don’t go that route, awesome! But what if…
you don’t know about midwifery and home-birth care
and you learn about it
and it completely resonates with you
and you see that it’s WAY less expensive than a hospital birth, and more and more midwives are taking insurance with a package that includes prenatal appointments in the comfort of your own home (because who wants to leave the house to go to a doctor’s office when the appointment can be done on your cozy couch?), the birth itself, and postpartum appointments
you can text or call your midwife directly- day or night
you can talk to your midwife about ANYTHING (in fact, it’s encouraged! I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had a doctor— again, nothing against doctors, but they just don’t have time— sit with me for hours and listen to me vent while other patients are impatiently waiting), and that’s what I mean by holistic care
you realize how important it is for your care NOT to just be about the physical aspects of pregnancy. Pregnant women need and deserve emotional, mental, and spiritual support, along with the medical part. Midwives will be there for anything and everything— aka a good midwife uses an all-encompassing, holistic approach, and doctors just don’t
Want to learn more? Check out this incredible midwife’s website: soramidwifery.com
Getting Back to Your Roots
So, you decide to have a midwife and a home birth, and during labor, you feel free and comfortable (setting-wise, that is. Because I’m here to tell you, they don’t call it an initiation because it feels delightful!), safe, and held. And your baby is born at home, where he or she recognizes all the scents and bacteria, which helps a newborn thrive because they feel so safe.
And what if you can’t believe you didn’t realize how much of a badass you are (women who give birth in hospitals are badasses too! But I want every mama to know all options so she can make the best choice for her and her baby)?
But it doesn’t matter, because now you do. And so does your baby.
We live in a fast-paced society where we are pressed for time- stuck in the past and the future. And our health can reflect that. Appointments, jobs, school, kids’ activities, doctor’s appointments, errands— the list goes on, ad infinitum. We are rushing, and everything needs to be done now. If it isn’t, we get stressed. Our bodies are stressed because our souls know all too well things could be better. We could feel more connected. Isn’t that what we all want? True connection. Any problem we have is due to a lapse in harmony. Our entitlement to control is astounding. Our subconscious drive to “do” is concerning.
What if you didn’t have to “do” anything? What if you could just be and let nature do all the work? If you had the chance to truly escape the rat race and spend a few hours in a space where time doesn’t exist and your mind can’t go into the past or future— would you take it? If you had the chance to experience life in a non-linear way for once, would you? If you had the chance to give your baby the most natural passage into the world, would you? If you had the chance to give yourself one of the most empowering initiation opportunities a woman can have, would you?
Natural home birth will take you there. And it will take you in deep.
Birth is a mystery no matter what setting you’re in. So, let it be a mystery. And why not become part of that mystery? You can dance in the other realms where the veil is thin, thanking them for having you, and then kiss, kiss, bam, bam— baby born!
Shawna Dewitt is an incredible licensed midwife in Salida, CO. Her practice is called Sora Midwifery. If you want to get the most out of the gift of birth, feel free to contact her to schedule a call. And if you don’t live near Salida and are interested in home birth, simply google local midwives in your area. And remember during your interview process- you’re looking for a knowledgable midwife who knows what she’s doing but not just that! You want a midwife you feel safe with- someone you would have no problem taking a bowel movement in front of or telling your fears/doubts to. Why? Because you deserve that! But also because our emotions can absolutely have an effect on labor. During labor when we don’t feel safe or in our power, stress hormones are released. Stress hormones can actually block the release of oxytocin and endorphins- the good birth hormones gifted to us to support a healthy, harmonious birth.
Ready to get out of your own way and let nature do its job?