Welcome to the Solidarity podcast,

where we share stories to connect with one another, find comfort in life’s challenges & to celebrate the solidarity that is..

being a woman.

Today I want to share with you my birth story. I will warn you this will definitely be more than 10 minutes but this is an important story with important messages. This is both for those who are curious about my birth experience and it’s a letter to the medical community about the importance of how you treat your patients.  So I really encourage you to give this a listen.

I had an unmedicated hospital birth. 10/10 wouldn’t do that again. I loved being unmedicated- okay maybe not loved, but it was exactly what I wanted. No judgment towards anyone who uses meds but that’s just not for me.

It was the hospital part I actually wouldn’t do again.

Here’s why.

I had 2 miscarriages in 2019 and so when I found out I was pregnant on St. Patrick’s day in 2020, I knew I wanted to get in immediately for progesterone as that was the suspected cause of my losses. Covid shutdowns decided to take Tennessee by storm that week so the doc was a no go but I was able to get in at a lab for blood work.

Lo and behold I was 5 weeks pregnant and I immediately got on progesterone. When I called the office to schedule under a midwife, as I knew I wanted low intervention, natural care, I was met with “you don’t get to decide who you see (aka an OBGYN vs a midwife), we make that call”. That was a huge red flag so I moved on to a local birthing center.

After having to get my care on the lawn so my husband could be present for emotional support when I was sure I was losing my baby (it was a hematoma) and then weeks of telehealth calls where i was supposed to take my blood pressure & try to find my baby’s heart beat at home, and getting my blood drawn in a dirty parking garage. And I was told repeatedly because my BMI was a few points higher than it “should” be that I was guaranteed gestational diabetes.  I said buh bye to that birth center and transferred yet again at 32 weeks to my 3rd doctor.

This doctor was not in any way shape or form in support of my unmedicated birth plan and basically told me to not hold my breath. At that point I hired a doula because I knew I had nobody on my side and I would need a lot of support in the unsupportive environment i was about to give birth in. I wanted out but I was running out of options and I was running out of time. I was also told by them I would have gestational diabetes and that I would not be able to use the midwives or the birth center for that reason. The next week I passed my FIRST test with flying colors, the first, so I didn’t even have to take the second one- and then when my strep b test was cleared a few weeks later I brought it up to my doula how discouraged I was about my OB. She then informed me that I could use the birth center if I got the class done. I called the next day and the deadline was the NEXT day for the cut off for me to transfer. By God’s grace I got the paperwork, class done and at 36 weeks I was in! I saw the midwives at the same hospital and I felt much more taken care of. I really honestly felt at peace.

Lesson #1

Never settle for crappy care. Anyone who isn’t encouraging you in your choices, advocating for informed consent & empowering you in what you want to do, doesn’t get a place at your table.

The three weeks leading up to birth I had prodromal labor every single night. That final week as my due date came and went was the longest week of my life. I swear it was horrible.

At 40+5 I went into labor at 10 pm, labored by myself in the bed, on my ball and tub until midnight when I woke Dustin up. At 3 am, we went into the hospital even though everyone thought I was nowhere close because I was a first time mom. Regardless I knew I was and I listened to my body and my instincts.

Lesson #2

always listen to your body, you know it better than anyone else. You don’t have to have a degree to know yourself. K? K.

I got there and I was somewhere between 60 & 80% effaced and I was at 6cm. Perfect for being admitted.

I labored most of the morning in the tub with worship music, affirmations, prayer and my doula and Dustin rubbing my back and giving counter pressure.

As I started to enter into transition I was struggling because I had been going for a really long time and because He was OP (which means he was facing the other direction) he was taking his sweet time turning and my back labor was insane. Contractions were intense, lasted 2-4 minutes and were basically on top of each other. Lots of squatting, sitting on the toilet, slow dancing, peanut balls and a lot of “I can’t do this” “yes you cans” later, my midwife broke my water which instantly pushed me from 8-9 cm which I consented to (even though it wasn’t in my original birth plan because as Bundle Birth says, “flex and flow”).  I consented to that because I was so done at 12 hours. Within that last hour I got past that lip and I was finally ready to push after gritting my teeth through the urge for awhile before that.

Alright, now here’s where it gets a little, actually not a little, very traumatic and so if you have sensitivity to traumatic birth stories I would possibly maybe skip over this next part or not listen.

I pushed on hands and knees for almost an hour. At the last second they flipped me on my back, my midwife yelled out that she was cutting and as I was flipped, his body came out with one push and before I knew what was happening he was over on the table.

Turns out he had the cord wrapped around his neck once, he was a bit blue and she panicked. She did admit to panicking and that it was a premature reaction, a few weeks later at my postpartum appointment. In the moment it scared the crap out of me and Dustin and honestly, I’m pretty upset it happened because my son deserved to have the rest of his blood from the cord and he should’ve been on my chest immediately.

That set off a chain reaction of him being taken to transition for hours for oxygen monitoring- it was always above 95. And he later ended up in the NICU. More on that in a minute.

In the mean time I was hemorrhaging. She manipulated my placenta and I was later given crap from a midwife for not allowing them to give me Pitocin immediately. I had requested no manipulation of my placenta or meds. I have my theories on why this happened but I don’t feel the need to share them. It happened and I know if we decide to have another baby what I’m going to do next time.

I was given a large dose of Cytotec and Pitocin and I lay there naked, nobody covered me up, shaking from the adrenaline and Cytotec. Dustin went with Hayden to transition because we were declining things that I didn’t trust them not to give him if left alone. My doula unfortunately had to run to be with another client in labor down the hall. I was left alone with the midwife who was stitching me up for a minor tear that wasn’t even a first degree. She mentioned it didn’t need stitches but she did it anyways. I really regret that. I wish I had said something but I was so scared and traumatized from my child being ripped from me with ZERO explanation at the time that I couldn’t speak. I knew if I opened my mouth I would simply cry. The nurses were in there having small talk with one another, which is not a great look, not tending to my emotional needs whatsoever.  Looking back it was kind of an out of body experience, I can look back on myself and I’m just laying there naked, alone and afraid, like that tv show. I felt like there was a bunch of people in the room but no-one saw me or where I was at.

On a cart in the corner was this pocket thing hanging 11 golf ball sized clots. That was traumatizing to see as well. They pulled my placenta out of me because it wasn’t coming out fast enough for them (it can take hours but 10 minutes was apparently too long). They also shoved their hand up there just to make sure that when they tugged they didn’t miss any. That was pure hell to be completely honest.

As quickly as all of those people were in the room, they were gone.

I was completely alone. Shaking. Shivering. I was in so much pain and I had no idea what was happening with my baby. I just cried.

A few minutes later a nurse came in who wasn’t mine who had heard me crying and asked me what was the matter. She then realized I was naked and asked if I wanted a blanket which I had asked for but I guess nobody heard me the first time. I also had to ask for water and a freaking update on what was wrong with my child and why he wasn’t with me for the golden hour that I had busted my butt for - for 10 months & 14 hours of hard labor. I was given zero answers.

Finally Dustin came back in with him - 4 hours later. He said he was doing fine and then the pediatrician came in. That set off a whole series of events as well.

I couldn’t hold Hayden because I was shaking so bad from the Cytotec. So far I had seen him for a total of 30 seconds. I was trying to keep a good attitude but I was literally breaking inside.

Once we were up in postpartum I was exited to finally get my skin to skin and time with my baby- just almost 6 hours after he was born. It was far too long.

As I was about to take him a NICU nurse came in and wheeled him out the door with zero explanation other than “tests”. I was heartbroken and I couldn’t help but sob.

No mother should have her baby taken over and over and over again with zero explanation.

He was finally back a few hours later with a “he is completely fine!” and I was informed that lactation wouldn’t be there that night so I was on my own to figure out how to latch him. Thankfully I had done a ton of research and knew the basics of what I was doing. 

The next morning the lactation consultant came in, didn’t introduce herself and shoved my boob in his mouth. Zero consent. Zero courtesy. Zero respect. She was incredibly rude and made me feel incompetent. The next time she was in the room she snapped at my exhausted Dustin who had been helping me pump every hour on the hour to help bring my milk in because Hayden at that point was in the NICU. Hold on, I’ll get there in a second. She was mad that he hasn’t washed my pump parts that very second. She was so disrespectful we had the nurses ask her not to come back. Thankfully the night before we left I had an ANGEL consultant who told me I was doing incredible and was impressed at how well I had him latching for being away from me for 75% of our stay. So that honestly really helped me reaffirm that what I was doing was correct because the first consultant acted like I was totally an idiot. 

Lesson #3

You can ask that staff who are disrespectful not return. In my personal opinion that is breaking your oath to do no harm. How you treat a patient matters.

Back track to earlier that 2nd day of his life, the pediatrician came in and was upset that we had declined a certain unnecessary intervention- I can let you guess which one, I’m not going to state it. After I stated my solid reasoning as well as quoting the NICU nurse who had informed us that the hematoma on his head was external and that he was a-ok from his testing he replied, or rather snapped back,  “I don’t know why they told you that, he’s not fine, he’s bleeding from his brain!” Ya, can you imagine the shock on our faces and the concern?  Newsflash *he was not bleeding from his brain.* ! But because of that single, false, statement that may i add he later recanted and NOT because there was new information- we were coerced under false pretenses to give him that intervention because of that pediatrician’s personal beliefs.

Let’s just say an hour later he was in the NICU with signs of a seizure. Once again my baby had been ripped away from me and that time we really had no explanation and when I spoke up about the connection between the intervention and the clear reaction 15 minutes later- I was told I didn’t know what I was talking about.  It’s not like I’m his mother or anything. But I had no idea what I was talking about.

Lesson #4

Do not let anyone make you feel stupid or inferior. You are the mother. Period. Instincts were given to us for a reason.

After run around after run around we were informed that he’d stay in the NICU overnight. I had a full blown panic attack at this point which nobody dealt with except for my husband. It was clear to me that my mental state didn’t matter. We took turns going down to the NICU that night and I pumped had pumped and pumped and PUMPED to get that colostrum to him. Against my wishes they ended up giving him formula because of the NICU protocol- another unnecessary intervention- which he always threw up. And it was frustrating because I was getting him enough colostrum but there were miscommunications and they were giving him formula instead of my milk.

The next morning- day 3 of this hospital stay, I went down to the NICU and as we were approaching the 24 hour mark I was informed that he was staying in the NICU another 24 hours despite being PERFECT on the monitors, passing all of his tests, not having another seizure like episode and his vitals hadn’t wavered. At this point I was distraught because I knew I was getting discharged that day. That meant I could stay in the NICU but Dustin would either have to drive an hour home or sleep in the truck in the parking lot. I was an emotional wreck and I needed him and the only reason, we were both allowed down there as individual parents, bit we weren’t allowed down there together. And the nurse informed us that if it had been Saturday we both would’ve been allowed down there but because it wasn’t Saturday, we weren’t allowed. But it was because of Covid, so, ya know.  I was distraught because my baby needed to be with me to start latching, bonding and ya know, get to know his actual parents. I had fed him a few times in the NICU but the night before the nurse told me to go back upstairs because she wanted to feed him because she loved feeding babies. I was pretty pissed about that. He wasn’t a doll to play with and it was inhibiting my ability to bond with him; bring my milk in and I was suffering mentally and physically from the separation and I honestly felt like no one seemed to care. When I started asking questions, in a very kind but concerned & truly heartbroken manner, I mean I was crying, I was met with defensiveness and the NICU NP snapped at me and said “what do you think were holding your baby hostage?”. And she walked away leaving me sobbing uncontrollably with zero comfort and again, zero answers. The nurse even apologized to me, a different nurse, but it was clear once again that I wasn’t the priority and ya know, I should’ve been. I had gone through hell too in those 72 hours and I was long past my breaking point and the disrespect I had received from the staff was truly flabbergasting.

Lesson #5

They do not get to talk to you like that, report them.

They, on more than one occasion at this point, had left me crying, without ever once acknowledging that what I was going through was hard and that I was his mother and I had rights to know what was going on.

Zero answers. Zero compassion.

I had been coerced, belittled, ignored.

It honestly sounds like a tv plot, but it was real.

And you know what the hospital had to say after they called me for an interview, for their investigation into the matter after my postpartum nurse (who was an angel) reported the mistreatment?

“We did a thorough investigation and we don’t see how we would’ve done anything wrong and we wouldn’t have done anything differently.

We apologize if you felt bullied, maybe we could’ve used a different tone, but…”.

And honestly I stopped listening after the but.

No buts.

A real apology never puts the blame back on the recipient. It never includes “if you felt” and it’s instantly nullified the second you include a “but”.

It was always he said she said and he was always going to win.

Because he was educated.

He wasn’t overly emotional.

He was the “professional”.

No one was ever going to be held accountable and they knew that. I was just too naive and I got my hopes up and believed that somewhere deep down there was some part of this establishment that cared about their patients more than they did about saving face. Rather than owning up to their mistakes, I was left to pick up the pieces with the zero strength I had left.

Now please, hear me when I say:

I don’t say any of this to try and get attention or pity or to act like all medical workers are horrible. Because they’re not. In fact I know they’re capable of treating you with extreme kindness, respect and compassion because I had several nurses, a lactation consultant and a midwife who were angels and who fought for me when their co-workers were making it obvious that they could care less about what I needed and had their own agendas.

Postpartum, you already question everything and wonder if you’re crazy because your emotions are running so high. So when a midwife, postpartum nurse & a social worker get together to “trick” the NICU into releasing him back upstairs under false pretenses because they all know he’s fine and need to be upstairs with me, you know you’re not actually crazy.

My first few days postpartum, what we’re supposed to be the happiest days of my life were instead extremely traumatic and looking back, they absolutely did not need to be.

I advocated hard for myself, I really did, and it still wasn’t enough and I prepared a lot for that possibility.

So I can only imagine how people get pushed around when they don’t prepare to advocate for themselves and their baby.

Lesson #6

No matter how prepared you are to decline interventions with fact based information. You will most likely encounter some kind of bullying if you are at a hospital. If you don’t want to deal with interventions and people disrespecting your right to choose and have informed consent, skip the hospital altogether.

Now obviously because of my situation, I had switched so many times and in that case scenario the hospital ended up being my best option. But ya better believe if we have another child I will be finding somewhere else to give birth because that is not happening again.

So here is my message to my friends in the medical field who decided to take the time to listen and hear me out. Thank you so much. I know you’re amazing and empathetic & willing to learn because if you weren’t you wouldn’t still be here. I truly hope you hear my heart with what I’m about to say.

My postpartum nurse, who I will never forget because she actually made me feel like i mattered and reminded me that I was a human said to me, “your bedside manner absolutely matters.” And assured me that how I had been treated was completely unacceptable. And that no policy should be put above humanity.

So here’s the deal.

Even if you’re not their doctor personally, aka the NICU NP, how you treat people matters and how you treat fragile, heartbroken mothers who have been robbed of critical time with their babies, matters.

Your job isn’t just to treat patients, it’s to care for them wholly. Physically & emotionally.

You take an oath to do no harm- talking down to patients because their care is in your hands, going on power trips because a baby is in basically in your custody, and manipulating someone into doing something that you want them to do because you don’t agree with their decision by twisting medical information in favor of your preference is doing harm. It’s wrong.

If you can’t give unbiased, informed consent and kindly respect a decision, you shouldn’t be in the medical field.

If you can’t be bothered to take a minute to explain yourself and comfort a mother who is sobbing in front of you because she’s been told something different by 5 different people and desperately wants answers because her heart feels like it’s being ripped in two, you shouldn’t be in the medical field.

Your words and attitude towards patients and their family members matters and you can absolutely do a whole lot of harm when you abandon compassion, kindness and respect.

And like I said, if you’re in the medical field, I hope you take my words to heart and that you advocate for your patients and stand up for them when you see them being mistreated.

I can never thank the few that stood up for me and even went on to report their coworkers for their behavior, enough.

Not that it did anything, unfortunately. That’s a whole other system that needs correcting.

But I felt incredibly seen and loved and cared for in those moments with my postpartum nurses and that matters.

Being treated like a human with a brain and rights matters.

And yes; you’re human too, you make mistakes, but when your job is to care for people’s well being, their entire well being matters and arrogance has no place.

If you’ve been hurt in a situation like this and you didn’t get advocated for, I’m so sorry and I hope that me speaking out makes you feel seen because your story matters too.

Holding people accountable to their actions when it could hurt people so detrimentally matters.

Thank you to those who work in the medical field who care for their patients wholly and who advocate for them when someone isn’t working up to their end of the the oath.

I see you and I appreciate you.

So I guess this is my warning to new mothers. Go in ready to advocate for yourself because in seconds you can go from feeling safe to researching how the hell to get out of that hospital before something else happens.  Record everything. Trust your gut. Stand by your no, no matter how much you’re bullied. Advocate for yourself. Ask for different staff. Don’t be afraid to take your business elsewhere because at the very end of the day.. that’s what you are, the customer.

You may be emotional, but you’re in touch with your energy and emotions and you know what’s best for your child.

You may not have a college degree but that doesn’t mean you’re uneducated or unqualified to make decisions.

They may be the professional, but you’re the mother and that always trumps that card.

Don’t you ever forget it.

And please, if you’ve endured medical trauma, please take the time to process it and work through it and if you can, report it. Nothing will ever change if we continue to stay quiet.

If you enjoyed today’s episode please share with a friend, help me get the word out on social media and if you’re feeling it, subscribe and leave a review to help get it out to others on the algorithm who need to be shown some solidarity! Thanks again for listening and be sure to check back next Wednesday for a new episode!

As always, I’m so glad you’re here.

You’re wanted, needed and loved.

I see you, I hear you and you my love, by the grace of God, you’re enough.

xoxo - Ry