I gave birth at a birth centre

We are doing something a little different today and handing over to a mum. Débohra is 35, a photographer and blogger, and the mother of 3 children. Her youngest, Loni, was born in April 2018 at a birth centre. Today, she is going to tell us about that birth, and also about her fight to secure the future of birth centres in France.

Hello Débohra, why did you choose to give birth at a birth centre for Loni?

I had always wanted simplicity when bringing my children into the world, and felt naturally drawn to physiological birth. In my previous pregnancies, I had not received the listening, the support, or the trust I needed. Those are precisely the three things I found in the holistic care offered at a birth centre, and they are what enabled me to see my personal plan through to the end.

I also think that after two experiences in more traditional settings, I had become aware of certain limitations within the system. In the clinic, I had the feeling that I had to fight, to justify my choices, and therefore inevitably find myself in a power struggle with the healthcare staff. I know that is not the case everywhere, and thankfully so, but it was what I had experienced — and my choices had not been respected.

This was my last pregnancy, my last baby. I had just been through a miscarriage that had broken me, and yet through which I had discovered an unexpected strength within myself. I wanted to live this pregnancy and this birth on my own terms. I was sure of myself and I did not want to have to argue my case. The birth centre was an obvious choice. When we came out of the first appointment, I was completely won over — and even my partner, who had been sceptical at first, could no longer imagine anything else.

How did your labour go?

My labour unfolded exactly as I had hoped — in a profoundly simple way. There were no unnecessary or invasive procedures. There was only gentleness, soft lighting, and my own playlist. There were only familiar, caring faces; there was only warmth and trust.

It was a first in many respects — the first time contractions had started naturally within me (I was induced both previous times). It was the first time I felt at home, the first time I could move around freely, eat, drink, shower, and have a massage. And it was also the first time I went without an epidural.

It is funny, because before giving birth, the whole question of the epidural had loomed very large in my mind — I kept wondering whether I would manage, whether I would cope. And yet afterwards, I realised that on the day itself the epidural had not featured in my journey towards my baby at all. That thought simply never crossed my mind.

And I finally understood that this is not what is at stake during a birth that truly respects a woman's physiology. What truly matters is the combination of physical and emotional security, along with the tools available to manage pain. Most importantly, I discovered something remarkable: that pain is not the same as suffering, that pain is not the same as fear, that you can look at pain with a neutral gaze — without judging it — and that by accepting it, you can discover something about yourself.

You have since created a blog dedicated to birth centres — why?

The blog was created purely with the aim of sharing information. After Loni's birth, I realised that the experience I had lived was profoundly simple and universal — yet it is virtually undocumented in mainstream media. Our culture is steeped in a single image of childbirth: a woman in a clinical white room, feet in stirrups, being told to "push, push." We see this image from our school textbooks to films and television programmes, so it has become very hard to imagine any alternative. That is what I wanted to document — clear, reliable information about a different way of giving birth.

And then on a more personal level, I wanted to give confidence to women like me — women who found it difficult to stand by their choices, who wanted to free themselves from limiting beliefs that dismissed birth centres as too fringe. I wanted to shine a light on testimonials and relevant information.

That said, I am very careful to maintain absolute tolerance and compassion in all the stories I receive. There is no question of promoting a new one-size-fits-all model or making women who want an epidural feel guilty. In my view, birth centres should constitute an additional care option and in no way be set in opposition to maternity hospitals.

What are your hopes for the future?

Right now I have just one hope: a government decision on what happens at the end of the birth centre trial in France. Because yes — we are still waiting to find out what the future holds for birth centres. The reports are excellent and safety standards are very satisfactory, as proven by the first study into the quality of care at birth centres in France. Parent satisfaction is close to 100%. But the economic question will also weigh heavily in the political balance. So I wait.

If birth centres are given a permanent footing, I will feel that I have actively contributed to this social step forward, and I will be proud to have fought for greater freedom for women.

A huge thank you to Débohra for taking the time to answer our questions. If you would like to find out more about birth centres, do visit her two blogs: Debobrico and Accoucher en maison de naissance.

Photo credits: Débohra Saba