Vegan Birth Stories

Please read our collection of birth stories. If you'd like to submit your own, please submit your story here. Vegan or vegetarian birth stories are welcome.

Kiran's Birth Story

From the beginning of my pregnancy, there had been some confusion over my exact expected date of delivery (EDD) as I have longer than average cycles and knew that I conceived our son later than the statistical average allows for. During my ultrasound checkups in the U.K., our son measured nine days “younger” than was expected from my dates (based on last monthly period).

It was only when I decided to travel to Germany for the birth and told my midwife of these plans (in the end of July, three weeks prior to my official EDD of August 23, 2002) that I was informed of this fact. Of course, I had my own calculations which pointed toward a later EDD (my own estimation was September 2, 2002), but I was not asked about this, and it was so tempting to have an earlier EDD. In hindsight, following a miscalculated EDD for the greater part of my pregnancy was the worst thing to do from a psychological point of view, as it made the wait that inevitably resulted much more trying.

I had originally planned on a home water birth and had found a very experienced midwife who was recommended to me by several friends, who had wonderful home water birth experiences under her guidance. By July, my husband, Charlie, had already ordered the pool, and we had everything planned out when our plans were suddenly questioned. But life had other plans.

By the end of July, my trusted midwife had been on sick leave for three months, but had assured me before she left that she would be back in time to deliver my baby. I was then told by the midwife who was temporarily replacing her that the sick leave was now indefinite and would certainly extend over the month of August and beyond. I was very down after receiving this news, as the "new" midwife was very disorganized and not very enthusiastic about water births, let alone at home. At that point, our plans just did not feel right any more.

After much discussion we then decided on a big change of plans: We would have the baby in Germany! As I am German (my husband is British), my entire family lives in Germany, and they were thrilled at the prospect of being able to witness the pre-birth and postnatal period. I have private insurance in Germany which would cover delivery in an excellent hospital.

The hospital I had chosen seemed more like a birth center, and their policies regarding childbirth sounded very progressive. Rooms could be equipped with double beds (for Mom, Dad and Baby), and they offered water birthing facilities, as well as a variety of other natural birthing methods/aids (including homeopathy and acupuncture). Care of the baby was fully placed in the hands of the new parents, and the overall goal is to support the natural laboring process without any unnecessary medical intervention. So it seemed as though my dream of a peaceful water birth was coming true, let alone with the added bonus of some well-deserved pampering from the hospital staff!

Still following my August due date, we had planned that Charlie would be with me for one week prior to the birth and three weeks afterward. I could not imagine doing the birth without him! He was the most supportive, excited and happy daddy-to-be.

I had also written up a "birth plan," which I discussed with the leading consultant of the hospital as soon as I had arrived in Germany. During this discussion, I also mentioned the fact that the ultrasounds pointed toward September 1 as the expected date of delivery. He was of the opinion that early ultrasounds are an exact method of dating, whereas statistics aren’t! My due date was then officially changed to September 1, but my mind was still focused on late August.

In my birth plan, I expressed my wish to let nature take her course. With three years of medical school experience, I had come to a point where I trusted my body and the wisdom of nature over medical intervention and procedures (although I fully acknowledge their lifesaving potential in certain situations – I just realize that too much of a good thing is not a good thing any more!).

I had been preparing for the birth in various ways: physically, by practicing yoga and drinking raspberry tea (a uterus toner, which has been found to shorten the second stage of labor and reduce the rates of forceps delivery), as well as eating a very balanced and healthy organic vegan diet (avoiding all processed sugar, white flour/rice, artificial sweeteners, additives and preservatives) and mentally, by training myself in visualization and relaxation techniques, as well as by practicing positive affirmations. My husband is a yoga teacher, and as he was very much involved in this pregnancy, he had been showing me a variety of methods to calm and prepare the mind.

I arrived at my parents’ house in Germany at the end of July and prepared for a long wait. When Charlie finally arrived on August 15, I was very relieved, as I had been terrified of the possibility that the baby might come early, and he would miss the birth. We now prepared ourselves for the birth by taking long, relaxing walks in the forest and carrying out long, inspiring discussions.

August 23 came and went, and there were no signs of an imminent birth. By then, I had to go to the hospital for twice-weekly checkups, which became more and more frustrating, as there were no signs of progress. My baby was always very healthy (as shown on the CTG – electronic fetal heart and contraction monitoring). To me, it felt as if those checkups were not really necessary, as I intuitively felt that everything was fine. I did not like being strapped to the bed with a tight band around my belly and hooked up to monitors. This was not how I had envisioned my pregnancy to end and certainly a far cry from the more relaxed attitude of the midwives in England.

Eventually, September 1 came and went. As I had now passed my revised due date as well, I was ordered to the hospital every second day. The normal policy was that the doctors would let the pregnancy progress to 40 weeks plus 10 days before considering an induction and to 42 weeks before strongly recommending an induction. Since my due date was relatively unclear in the eyes of the professionals, the consultant eventually gave me September 9 as the date on which he wanted to induce. By then, I was so worn out from the constant checkups (I even had my mucous plug removed manually – a painful procedure – at 41 weeks by a midwife who was hoping to naturally start my labor using this method) that I agreed to this date.

I was dreading an artificial induction and tried many natural methods to start labor, beginning in the last week of August, to no avail. When September 8 passed without the slightest contraction, I gave up hope of going into labor naturally. By then, I had been patiently waiting for 17 days, and I was so ready to hold my baby. I would have done anything to finally give birth. I mentally prepared for an artificial induction, and although I was disappointed to let go of my plans for a completely natural birth, I was exhilarated at the prospect of holding my baby in my arms soon.

September 9 was a Monday. Charlie and I got up at 6:15 a.m., as we had planned to arrive at the hospital by 9 a.m., and it was quite a drive from our house to Frankfurt, especially in the busy morning traffic. When we arrived at the hospital, I had to lie down for another CTG. I was beginning to seriously hate this procedure!

After the obligatory 30 minutes had passed, the midwife went to get the consultant, Professor Stein. He came into my room, looked at the CTG, and asked me “What do you want to do?” I answered, “I really want my baby!” He replied, “So do I.” That meant that the induction was final. He suggested inducing me with Syntocin (artificial oxytocin) because he thought that would be the best way for me, seeing that I was only 1 centimeter dilated and 0 percent effaced.

At 11 a.m., I received the first 500-milliliter infusion. I hated lying on a hospital bed with an IV in my arm! Slowly all the scenarios I had so strongly wished to avoid were manifesting themselves. At 3 p.m., the IV had finished, and the CTG had not changed one bit! I had become very hungry just lying there and ate some sandwiches which I had packed. Nobody offered me any food.

Charlie was by my side the entire time. Needless to say, it was very boring and stressful for him to see me hooked up to all these machines, although I was perfectly healthy! Every time I wanted to go to the loo, Charlie had to unhook me from the monitors and carry the IV for me.

At 2 p.m., after the first infusion had finished, a doctor came into my room and told me that they had tested my blood before and after the Syntocin and that my platelets were very low after the infusion. He said that I was not allowed to eat because they might have to do a Cesarean section! By then, I was freaking out. The doctor took some more blood and said that if my platelets were any lower at this check, they would have to “get the baby out,” as a vaginal delivery would be too dangerous (in my opinion, an operation also carries a high risk for bleeding, as it is a big wound, but the professor did not want to “take any risks”).

While waiting for the blood test results, which took over an hour, I was close to having an emotional breakdown. Not only was I being artificially induced without a medical indication – something I had always wanted to avoid – but I was minutes away from an emergency C-section, depending on the test results! I could not believe what was happening.

Finally, the results came back, and the platelets had doubled within the hour! I was incredibly relieved. The professor then decided to give me another 500-milliliter Syntocin IV, as the first infusion had not had any effect. With this second infusion, I started to get regular and strong contractions, which felt good, as I thought that something was finally happening! They lasted for about two hours while the IV was running, but ceased immediately when it had finished. A vaginal check showed that I had dilated to 2 centimeters. I was close to tears by now. A whole day of infusions, strapped to monitors and lying in bed is so tiring and emotionally draining, and the effect was nothing short of disappointing. I was nowhere near to having my baby!

I was promised more treatment for Tuesday. When I walked into the delivery suite the next morning, I was told that they were very busy and that I would have to wait. Charlie and I went back to our family room on the ward and waited. Eventually, we got very bored and decided to go for a walk. We ended up walking through the streets of Frankfurt, me still with my IV in my arm! (They had not taken it out because they wanted to continue the treatment. Needless to say, it was painful!)

At 3 p.m., I decided to return to the delivery suite to see what was going on. It seemed as if they had forgotten all about me! Finally I was given a room and another Syntocin drip was started. By then, I was crying desperately with the pain and the hopelessness of the situation. I had ended up in a nightmare scenario. Everything that I had wanted to avoid was happening! I was so desperate. Needless to say, the Syntocin drip (the third one) showed no effect after four long hours.

By the evening, I was so depressed and crying, and I was ready to go home. The professor eventually came into our room at 10 p.m. for a talk. My parents and my sister were visiting, and my mom was so upset to see me in such a state that she was ready to take me home. Professor Stein eventually convinced me to try one more day. He would change the method of induction and try prostaglandin tablets. He was leaving for a conference in the morning and would not be there to do the treatment. By that time I was willing to try anything. I desperately wanted my baby. Whenever I saw a mother with a newborn in the hall, I would break into tears.

On Wednesday morning, I had an appointment at 8 a.m. with the doctor who was replacing the professor. He was wonderful! He did a high-tech ultrasound on me that measured the amniotic fluid and the baby’s circulation in various areas. His conclusion was that the baby was very healthy and well nourished and not even close to being overdue. He then did a vaginal ultrasound that showed that the cervix was still 4 centimeters long (0 percent effaced). He told me that oxytocin does not have any effect in this case. After two days of treatment, he was the first to really take a look at me and evaluate my situation. The fact that I was 2 centimeters dilated made him think that an induction with prostaglandins might well be successful where all else had failed.

I received the first tablet on Wednesday at 11 a.m. Nothing happened for seven hours. At 5:45 p.m., they gave me a second one. That did it! But I did not know it at that point. At 6:45 p.m., they did another CTG (boy, did I HATE those things by then), which looked pretty unspectacular but showed some more contractions. The midwife told me to walk up and down the stairs in the hospital with Charlie to “get things going." I had a feeling that this was it but did not want to get my hopes up yet. By then I had been disappointed too many times. The midwife had said to come back at 8 p.m. if I felt the contractions getting stronger and to wait until 9 p.m. otherwise.

By 7:30 p.m., I was having pretty strong cramps. It felt like bad period pains or a nasty stomach upset. I decided to have a hot shower in the room, as my cervix felt as if it were on fire by then (effect of the prostaglandins). I got into the shower and let the water run hotter and hotter. The cramps kept getting worse, and 10 minutes later, I barely made it out of the shower in time to throw up. I was feeling very dizzy and generally horrible by then. Since at that point I had almost come to the conviction that my body was incapable of giving birth, I was reluctant to go back to the delivery suite.

But by 7:45 p.m., Charlie and I were back, and they did another – you guessed it – CTG. This is where I lost all hope. The contractions that were being recorded were really weak (at least that is what they looked like on the monitor). We were in a room with a large double bed, a birthing ball and some cloth ropes, which were hanging from the ceiling. At that point I could not quite imagine what they were there for. Little did I know that Kiran would be born in that room nine hours later!

The midwife came back after 30 minutes to check the CTG and found me in tears. I said, “I think I am just having stomach cramps." She had a look at the CTG and said: “Well, you strike me as a pretty tough lady. I believe you when you say it hurts!” She also explained that prostaglandins cause these cramp-like incessant contractions.

At 9 p.m., my parents were scheduled for a visit. I asked Charlie to go to our room to tell them where I was. He went to get them, and they found me sitting on the birth ball breathing through the contractions. At that point, I was still coping pretty well. I could breathe through the contractions when they came (about three minutes apart). I was sitting on the birthing ball, holding onto one of those ropes (I had figured out their purpose by then), and when a contraction was really strong, I would pull myself up to stretch my belly. It helped. My parents left soon after, and from then on, it was just Charlie and me.

At 10 p.m., the midwives changed shifts. The new midwife (she would deliver Kiran later that night) told me to get into the big double bed with Charlie to get some sleep. She checked me, and I was still only 2 centimeters dilated but the cervix had shortened to 0.5 centimeters. That did not seem like a lot of progress to me considering that I had been having these strong cramps for over two hours. I spent the next hours either in bed sleeping (until about 1 a.m.) or bouncing up and down on the birthing ball.

By 1 a.m., the pain was getting much worse. There was no possibility of sleep any more. Charlie, on the other hand, was so tired that he kept sleeping through my birthing ball exercises. At that point, I was still wearing my dress. They had not given me a hospital gown because none of the staff believed I would deliver that night (of course, I only found out afterward). Given my history and the fact that this was my first baby, they expected a long labor.

From 1 a.m. I was either crouching on the bed on all fours or pulling myself up on the ropes. The pain was getting very intense. The worst thing was that the contractions were so close together (Charlie timed them as one and a half minutes apart – he was not sleeping any more by then!) that I did not have a chance to catch my breath and relax in between. This is when I started to SCREAM. I had never thought that I would actually be verbal in labor, as I had thought it to be out of character for me, but at this point, screaming was the only thing that kept me on top of the contractions (somewhat).

The worst thing was that there were only two midwives on duty that night and three women in labor. As I was the one that nobody thought to be urgent, I was left alone the whole time. I felt really abandoned. Charlie was the only one to keep me going. He was WONDERFUL! At 1:30 a.m., the midwife came in to check me and found me to be 3 centimeters dilated. I could have cried! All this pain for 1 centimeter of progress.

Then she said, ” I will now get you a painkiller!” I couldn’t believe it! I had strictly stated that I wanted a drug-free labor. Nobody really knew my birth plan, it seemed, as there was a constant change of staff. It was all so frustrating. I told her that I did not want any medication. She looked surprised. Then she offered to get me a pillow filled with hot cherry seeds to put on my back. When she brought it, I found that it was no help at all! I begged her to run me a bath because I desperately needed some relaxation and pain relief but was determined not to get any drugs. She just said, “No, that is not possible. There are too many women in labor tonight, and we would not be able to watch you.” With that, she disappeared.

As soon as she had left, I had several more strong contractions and suddenly felt a warm gush down my legs. I tore off my dress and told Charlie, “I think my water just broke! Please get the midwife.” He had a hard time finding her, and when she finally appeared, she was pretty unimpressed and just said, “I’ll check you again.” At that point, I had gone through so many vaginal exams that they had become extremely painful, to the point that I was begging the midwife to stop.

Meanwhile, I was completely naked, as I had stripped off my dress when my water broke. I asked the midwife to give me a hospital gown which she did. Unfortunately, the fact that my water had broken did not make my care any more urgent in the eyes of the caregivers, and the midwife disappeared again after announcing that I was still 3 centimeters.

After my water broke, the contractions were more intense than ever, but even worse was the fact that once a long contraction had stopped, my stomach would cramp up, and I would have to throw up. As the midwife was nowhere near, the first time I threw up on the bed, as I did not have anything else. Charlie was desperate by now and kept running into the hallway to find help. The midwife appeared shortly, gave me a bowl and left again. I could have needed a bit more compassion by then!

For the next hour, I was screaming through contractions, throwing up violently and running to the loo (by then I also had strong diarrhea). My inside literally felt as if it were being torn apart by an incredible force. The contractions were coming incessantly now. On my way to the loo, my amniotic fluid had filled the entire hallway, as I did not even have a pad to catch it with. At that point I was beyond caring anyway. The room we were in was lit only by very dim lights, a fact that I found very comforting amidst all the chaos. I had always dreamed of giving birth at night since to me it just felt more intimate. That part of my birth vision at least came true!

By 3 a.m., I was in such agony that I said to Charlie, “I feel as if I am dying.” I really did. By then, I had completely forgotten that I was having a baby, and I just thought that I would not survive this incessant pain. I pleaded with Charlie to get the midwife again. Just as I was about to break down completely, she finally came back into our room and said, “You can now have a bath if you like.” I jumped up and started running into the hall; I was so desperate. But she stood in my way and said that she would have to check me first and do a CTG to check if my baby was still “cooperating."

Putting on the belt for the CTG was pure agony. It felt so tight around my stomach that I was screaming. I told her that I just couldn’t do it. She just reprimanded me for not wearing the belt for the entire time and making her wait until I had it on again! I could not believe how little compassion she was showing! Eventually I just tore off the CTG and told her it was too much pain; it was impossible. She then said that she would have to check me before I went into the water. Of course I had to agree, as I was so desperate for a bath I would have done anything. That is when she found me to be 8 centimeters! For the first time she actually showed some emotion and got quite agitated herself. I think she realized that she had taken my labor far too lightly until now.

She told me that I would have a water birth if I went into the water now because the birth was imminent. I replied that that was exactly what we wanted. She said that she would have to check the position of the baby first to see if there was a contraindication to a water birth. As it turned out, my hind waters had not broken yet, and she said that it was too risky to have a water birth under these circumstances. By then, I was on my knees begging her to let me into the water. She said, “No. If I let you in now, you won’t get out again, and I cannot take that responsibility.” I was completely beside myself with the pain by then and pleaded, “No. No. I promise. PLEASE let me have a bath. I will get out soon.” She then said OK.

The hallway seemed really bright after our dimly lit room, and I ran as fast as I could to the room with the birthing pool. It was much too bright in there for my liking but I just tore off my gown and jumped into the water. I was sweating profusely by then, and the water seemed much too hot. It actually felt totally uncomfortable and did not bring any relief at all! When a contraction came, I stood up so as to get my belly out of the water! The midwife explained that the warmth of the water would intensify the contractions and speed up the birth. I did not want my contractions to intensify!

She then offered to let me have a water birth under the condition that I allowed myself to be strapped to the CTG the entire time because she had to monitor the baby’s heartbeat. I could not believe that they did not have handheld devices for this. A woman in labor does not want to be strapped up and hooked onto monitors! I started to cry because I knew that I could not cope with the CTG belt and that I could therefore not have a water birth. In fact, the water felt so hot that it was very uncomfortable, and I did not mind getting out although it was hard letting go of my water birth wish.

As soon as I got out of the water, I felt the really strong urge to poo. I told the midwife who had given me some towels and just started running toward the loo, tossing the towels away because I was so hot! I was completely naked then but I really did not care. In fact, it felt great! The midwife came running after me, shouting, “That is the baby coming!” I did not believe her, as I had had diarrhea all night. She followed me into the loo, and I had to admit that it might be the baby.

Once the contraction subsided, I actually agreed to follow her back into our room. By then she was panicking, as the fact that I was having pushing contractions meant that the birth was imminent. She kept shouting at me, “You are about to have your baby!” I really could not relate to that fact at all anymore. If having the baby meant that the pain would stop, fine. Otherwise I found it pretty unexciting. Once on the bed, she checked me again and shouted, “You’re 10 centimeters! The baby is coming NOW!”

Somebody went to get the doctor who was on duty that night. I was very lucky, as it turned out to be the same doctor who had treated me so well in the morning. He must have been on a 24-hour shift. Charlie was by my side on the bed holding my hand telling me incessantly, “You can do this. You can do this.” I could not speak but I just thought, "No, I can’t. It is impossible." I then felt a strong pressure on my perineal area. I felt as though I needed to poo very badly, just as I had read in countless birth stories. The midwife was very excited and kept telling me that my baby was coming NOW.

With the next contraction, she told me to let it come, take a deep breath and then tuck my chin under, hold my breath, shut my eyes and push. This is where my yoga practice came in useful. I can hold my breath for quite some time without feeling uncomfortable, and the chin lock is a yogic practice. The thought gave me some strength as I could draw on my own knowledge to do this well. With the first push, the baby crowned! This part felt GOOD to me. I loved being able to actively DO something to get this pain to stop.

The midwife grabbed my hand and pressed it down on my baby’s head. It felt slippery and strange between my labia. I pulled my hand away. Although at that moment the sensation was strange, I now treasure that moment and would not want to miss it, as it made the fact that a baby, MY baby, was emerging from within my body so REAL.

The doctor told me that I could avoid an episiotomy if I cooperated well and did not lift my hips while pushing. That was a good motivation to follow their instructions! When the baby crowned, Charlie shouted, “WOW. The baby is coming!” It seemed as though everybody in the room was more excited about this fact than me. I was completely focused on getting the baby OUT. After crowning, the baby’s head slid back again. With the next contraction, I pushed again and felt the burning, stinging, stretching sensation of the baby’s head stretching my vagina. I did not push long enough because the midwife's orders were distracting me, although at this point she was being more helpful than during the whole seven hours before. The baby slid back once more.

With the third contraction, I really let it come (it felt like a wave washing over me), and when it peaked, I took one DEEP breath and PUSHED. I went into a really deep space and called to all the holy beings in the universe for help and inspiration. This was my spiritual moment during birth. It was an intense feeling. I vowed not to stop pushing until I had the baby out. I felt my vagina stretch more than I had ever thought possible (this was not painful to me though, not after experiencing another dimension of pain altogether in the hours before).

At 5:13 a.m., my son shot out of my body with such great speed that the doctor and the midwife did not manage to catch him immediately. Luckily, we were on a big bed! Charlie was beside himself with awe. He just said, "The baby is here. The baby is here," over and over again. I could not believe that I had just given birth. Charlie cut the cord. I felt another contraction, and the midwife pulled out the placenta in what seemed like not even a minute after the birth.

Once the cord was cut, my baby was placed on my chest. All I could say was “Oh my God, oh my God!” (In English – I always thought that my first words after the birth would be in German, but you never know!). I kissed his little head again and again. I just could not believe that it was over, and I was holding my baby in my arms. I have never felt so ecstatic.

After five minutes or so, the midwife asked me to hand the baby to Charlie, so that he could be cleaned up, and the doctor could see if I needed stitching. I did not want to let go of my baby. As soon as I did not have him in my arms any more, I felt empty inside, but the thought that he was in his father’s arms and not some stranger’s gave me some consolation. He weighed 8 pounds and measured 21 inches, with an Apgar of 9, 10 and 10 (at one, five and 10 minutes).

The doctor told me that I had a first-degree tear in my vagina and two small tears on my labia. He gave me a local anesthetic and started placing the stitches. At this point, I was shaking so violently that he had to ask me about 10 times to relax because the stitches would be uneven if I kept shaking. The stitching was a very uncomfortable feeling. The midwife was behind me washing my son and weighing him. She asked me if I wanted him to have vitamin K orally and advised me not to refuse it. I OKed the vitamin K and refused the antibiotic eye cream. I wanted him to be able to see the world in his first minutes in it.

While he was stitching, the doctor asked me what we were planning to do about vaccinations. It was so surreal. I had just given birth, and my mind was in a completely different world. I could hardly answer. I had the shakes very badly for about an hour after the birth. They were completely uncontrollable.

Finally, my baby was handed back to me, and Charlie got in the big double bed with us. For the next few hours we were in pure bliss. The midwife and the doctor left after congratulating us, and we were finally a family, all cuddled up together in one big bed. My son nursed for the first time around 7 a.m. It was all so peaceful, and I really appreciated the fact that we were given this special time together undisturbed.

At 7:30 a.m., a nurse came in and said that she would like to take us back into our room on the ward. I was seated in a wheelchair (there was no way that I was able to walk – I have never felt so weak in my entire life!) and wheeled back to our room while Charlie held the baby. I was too weak to even do that. Back in our room we settled ourselves in the bed and spent some more blissful time, just the three of us. The days leading up to the birth had been very gray and rainy, and that morning a beautiful sun was shining through the window. Our little ray of light had brought the light with him into this world for sure!

Epilogue

There is no way to know what giving birth will be like. EVERYTHING was different from what I expected. But STILL I now KNOW that we women have an enormous strength inside us that keeps us going through the seemingly impossible.

I am very grateful for the experience I had, even though it was so different from my original vision. It is my firm conviction that we are on this earth to learn and grow, and what we wish for is not always what we need. I believe that we always encounter the lessons and experiences that help us grow, not always those that we think will do so.

My birth experience has changed me and has added a new dimension to the compassion I am able to feel. I am grateful that I found the strength to go through the experience without drugs because until the end of my life, I will never forget the feeling of my son passing through me, emerging into the world. Still, when I look at him, I go through the sensation at times. It is an incredible realization.

Giving birth has also made me feel connected to all mothers of all times. I don’t believe that there is a more profound experience than giving birth and being a mother. Giving birth is an INCREDIBLE experience, and even though it is the hardest thing I have ever done, I am so grateful for the experience, because I feel that it is truly life changing.

Love,

Katharina

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