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CPS Investigated Me Because I Had Postpartum Depression
We are failing new moms
My first child arrived after what was arguably one of the longest labors ever recorded — 60 hours. I had hoped he would be born at home with my licensed nurse practitioner midwife. We lived within walking distance of the hospital, had a solid backup plan, and had a hospital bag packed just in case. When I began having contractions one Wednesday morning, it seemed like he would be making an appearance later that night, or maybe Thursday at the latest. But the labor was extremely slow to progress. Things didn’t get intense until late Thursday, and when my midwife checked me, I was still only 3cm dilated. Despite the incredible pain, I decided to keep going at home. But by Friday afternoon, I was exhausted. I had made it to 8cm, but was just sort of stuck, making no progress for hours. My midwife’s regulations allowed only 48 hours of attempting to deliver at home before we had to go in. She had not officially started the clock until Wednesday evening when she completed her first cervical examination on me, so this meant we had a couple more hours before I would have to go into the hospital. My husband was upset when I told him emphatically that no, it is time. He knew what was coming. There was no way I was getting out of this without a C-section. I had wanted so badly to go ‘all natural,’ and he knew this was going to devastate me. Looking back on it now, I still appreciate and honor my choice to try a homebirth, like I honor all women’s choices about the way they decide to labor and deliver. All the same, I wish I had not been so hung up on it because it nearly killed me, quite literally.
My son was born later that evening, after it was determined at the hospital that my blood pressure was far too high to try to deliver vaginally. As tears streamed down my husband’s face, we signed the paperwork authorizing the anesthesia and surgery, and almost immediately afterward, I was holding my very large baby boy.
The exhaustion that plagues all new parents struck me in the following days, but it was compounded by the fact that I had spent three days laboring, and thus, not sleeping. It was exacerbated further by the guilt I felt. Why couldn’t I do what so many women are capable of doing, I wondered. I cried as we left the hospital two days after the birth.
