By Kathryn

My first child was conceived on the heels of my second (very early) miscarriage – literally, I got the positive pregnancy test five weeks after I lost the previous pregnancy.  Because of my history, I spent my entire pregnancy in daily terror; I had no faith in my body’s ability to carry or birth a baby.  I asked my family practice doctor, who was also an OB, if she would provide my pregnancy care and deliver my baby, and she was thrilled to do so.  At the time, I thought I was getting a pretty standard OB experience – I only found out later how lucky I’d been, really.

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By Tessa

Appeared originally on May 7, 2010 at Aimed at the Heart

So last night I had a strange dream. And stranger still, it was one of those dreams that you remember with such clarity that you wonder if it was really a dream at all. In this dream I went to the RD Regional Hospital “Birth Office” (that’s how I knew it was a dream because I’m pretty sure that office doesn’t actually exist). I sat down with the lady for an “interview” of sorts about my birth experience with the hospital.

What I told her (in my dream) went something like this:

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Sixteen weeks ago I failed to give birth. I use that word quite deliberately, failed, because that is what I feel happened. I didn’t have a medical emergency that required intervention, my life, and the life of my baby weren’t in danger, I just wasn’t in labour. My caregivers were either unwilling or unable to support a wait and see approach so despite there being no medical need, I was given an induction which ultimately ended in a C-section.

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