The third trimester is for birth prep and for a nerd like me that means studying! I’m re-familiarizing myself with a few favourites that I haven’t read since I was a first time prego four years ago (I did zero birth prep for my second labour two years ago, felt like wingin’ it!).

This third time will be the farthest I’ve lived from a hospital, the only birth I’ve been able to consider a homebirth for, and of course my first birth during a global pandemic. So many (weird) milestones but I’m so ready for the challenge and as a third timer I feel knowledgeable enough about birth that I’m excited rather than fearful.

During my first pregnancy I found the “What to Expect” book series pretty fear-mongering and very much not-my-style. The two books I swear by now are The Birth Partner by Penny Simkin and Ina May Gaskin’s Guide to Childbirth.

The Birth Partner presents a clinical account of birth and is written for (you guessed it) whoever is going to be acting as the mother’s birth partner during labour. I like to read it as well because knowing what’s happening in my body makes it easier for me to understand what is needed of me mentally. Emotional accounts of birth are easy to find because it is inherently a deeply emotional and transformative act, but the Birth Partner reads more like a well-informed textbook, clearly explaining the physiology of labour and offering tactics for each different stage (ie. helpful positions to try, where a birth partner should apply pressure to relieve lower back pain, and what the mother might be feeling or thinking during the different stages). I like to put tabs on the pages I want Tom to read and highlight the things I think will be helpful for me.

Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, on the other hand, is very obviously written for the birthing mother and for a specific purpose; that purpose is to challenge some common myths and misconceptions we’ve grown to accept as normal in our modern day birth culture. The first half of the book is full of positive birth stories that are sorely missing from birth discourse today, where we’ve learned to deeply fear the birthing process and readily share our horror stories with others. These birth stories portray birth as a natural, intense, ecstatic experience that can be positive, feminist, and community-driven, with women cheering each other on and offering comfort and support to each other. Most importantly, the birthing woman and her needs and wishes are always placed at the center of the labour experience with minimal intervention from modern medicine. At the time Ina May was practicing this was a radical difference from the norm, which saw birthing mothers heavily medicated, often strapped on their backs on a sterile table.

The second half of the book explains how Ina May achieved such drastically different birth outcomes than the rest of the US over the decades that she and her team delivered babies at The Farm Midwifery Center, in Tennessee (stats like a 1.4% c-section rate compared to 24.4% in hospitals at the time, and a 0.05% vacuum- and forceps-extraction rate compared to 10% in hospitals at the time, and don’t get her started on the episiotomy rates!). Ina May’s Farm was one of the first out-of-hospital birthing centers in the US. She talks about lots of physiological stuff like Sphincter Law (issa thing!) but a lot of the mental stuff as well, highlighting how the mind-body connection works during birth, how fears and anxieties can stall labour, visualization techniques and mantras for opening the body, and so much other good stuff. It has truly given me peace to read this book in the third trimester as we approach out third and last Labour Day (and hopefully first homebirth!).

*disclaimer: because Ina May did much of her work in the 70s and we’re in the middle of a racial reckoning I was struck by some problematic issues with the book, most notably a natural birth tactic to combat shoulder dysplasia being named The Gaskin Manoeuvre even though Ina May learned it in rural Guatemala from indigenous midwives. All of Ina May’s research and experiences are still deeply valuable, it’s just something to be aware of when reading.

Anyway, I highly recommend both of these books for any pregnant person and their partner! A few other titles I’ve read and would recommend include Like A Mother: A Feminist Journey through the Science and Culture of Pregnancy by Angela Garbes, Childbirth Without Fear by Grantly Dick-Read and Spiritual Midwifery by Ina May Gaskin.

I’m finding it really hard to find the line between being realistic about life lately and sounding like I’m complaining during a time when, inarguably, everyone is struggling. On one hand, I don’t want anyone to ever think that I don’t love my babies or that I’m not grateful that I could get pregnant the first time I tried, three times in a row. I am privileged to not know loss, I am privileged that my family has a safe space in which to make messes and cry and whine incessantly, I am privileged that the genetic syndrome that our oldest child was born with has so far been mild enough that we get to raise her like a typical child. Despite what a lot of people have been assuming, we did choose to have all three of our kids this close together. None of them were a mistake and we don’t regret our choice to get these tough years over with all at once.

But on the other hand, shit’s hard right now, and I started this space to talk about hard shit. Back when Hennie was a purple-crying Colic Baby I searched the internet in the midnight hours for someone who would admit that there are some real rock bottom moments (or days, or weeks) in the long journey of parenthood. Instead all I found were thousands of accounts of peacefully sleeping babies and postpartum moms with fresh blowouts and a face full of makeup. To say I couldn’t relate would be an understatement and I vowed to never post just a highlight reel. I want parents to know that alongside the inevitable joys are times when we all struggle, and most importantly, that our struggles are NOT the exception, they are the norm. Parenting is tough! You WILL struggle. And you’ll probably be tempted to compare your situation to all of the perfect-looking parents on the internet but I hope you know you can come here when you need some encouragement or just a healthy dose of real talk.

So here’s my truth right now. I’m tired. Like, so tired. I haven’t woken up with that “well rested” feeling in weeks and the moment I get out of bed I’m already thinking about when I can get back in. At my last blood test I had a Ferritin level of…1. My midwife assures me this does not mean that I win 1st place, but it should be noted that it IS the lowest she’s ever seen… #winning.

Unfortunately the result of having no iron stores and no energy from being in late pregnancy is that right now I’m just not the mother I want to be. I seem to be oscillating between the rage that comes from having subzero patience and the indifference that comes from not having the energy to give a shit about anything. I’m wishing the days away, wishing the terrible two’s away, and wishing this pregnancy away even though I’m not sure I believe the future is going to be any easier. I’ve always worked hard to try not to wish my life away because it steals so much joy from the present but my present doesn’t feel very joyful right now and that’s just where we’re at. I’m sure that pregnancy hormones are somewhat at play here but I am fully convinced that I am not going to be able to handle the care of three kids AND my own self, and that scares me because I already feel that I’m neglecting myself deeply during a time when I know I should be taking better care. 

But we’re all just doing our best, right? It’s all we can do and we will do it and get through it. This has been a really, really tough year for so many of us and there are likely still hard times ahead in our new post-civid world. All we can do is survive the best we can, hopefully learn a little bit, and all become kinder and more empathetic people when this phase inevitably ends and a new, easier one begins. If there is one thing I’ve learned through my four years with three pregnancies and two kids, it’s that every phase ends. The good times give way to tougher ones but the tough ones are never permanent either. Life is always good and bad in different ways but we can always do it. It takes a village and right now during this ongoing pandemic all we’ve got is our emotional (and on-line) villages. If you need support or encouragement, I’m here for you!