Nitanis’ Family Story
A NEO-TRADITIONAL
BIRTHING RITUAL
by Nitanis Desjarlais
PuPumiqsu—Mother
My name is Nitanis Desjarlais. I am a Cree woman who was raised in Tsimshian Traditional Territory (in northwestern BC) and I am now living in Nuu-chah-nulth Territory on the west coast of Vancouver Island with my husband and eight beautiful children. The following are my birth stories.
PuPumiqsu
In 1990 my firstborn child, Tanner, was born in the Prince Rupert Hospital. I was eighteen years old and it was an unexpected pregnancy. I was young and scared. The thought of motherhood seemed unreal. I was staying with my mother-in-law at the time and she handed me a book by Dr. Spock. I followed this book, never questioning what was on the pages, thinking, What do I know? I never thought to question the doctor and I didn’t know what questions to even ask. I thought if I asked too many questions “they” would realize that I did not know the first thing about being a mother.
I spent the pregnancy in fear: afraid of everything and most of all of labor! Everyone had a horror story to tell me so I had to just prepare for the worst pain in my life and that was pretty much all the prenatal care I got. I went to a group for teen moms but I felt they talked down to me and I stopped going. The one thing I did get out of the workshops was to insist on a birthing bed that had just come out on the market. It was a bed that you could labor and deliver in because the bottom pulled out. The nurse had told me that no matter what my doctor may say to not give up on this detail. So at my next doctor’s appointment I said assertively that I would have the new birthing bed. He seemed surprised and told me he wasn’t sure about it and hadn’t used one before. I was happy that day after leaving the office, feeling this was the only thing that I did toward planning my birth.
Later on, a week overdue, I woke up at 5:30 in the morning with stomach cramps and was unable to go back to bed so I took a bath. My mother-in-law Arlene knocked on the door—“Are you all right?” I thought I just wasn’t feeling well. This being my first experience with labor, I wasn’t sure if it was the real thing. I got up for breakfast and we started to time the contractions. They were close, every five minutes, but weren’t very long or hard so we phoned her son, the baby’s father, who was out in a camp that was a helicopter ride plus a three-hour drive away.
I labored fairly well and I breathed through the contractions and had a nice breakfast. It was after 2 p.m. when Mark arrived from camp. We quickly went to the hospital. They checked me and I was dilated five centimeters. I told them again I wanted the birthing bed. I was hooked up to a fetal monitor. After every contraction we could hear the heartbeat and see the contractions on a paper that measured the length and intensity. I found everyone was more focused on the paper than in assisting and comforting me!
I handled the pain as best I could and when it got unbearable, I was wheeled into the delivery room. After four hours of hard labor in the hospital everything looked good to go. The doctor finally showed up.
Once I was there, it was quickly apparent that this bed wasn’t something they were used to. The nurses and the doctor were busy trying to put the handlebars and footholds into the bed and I found this to be very distracting during my hard contractions. During one of my contractions I actually grabbed the bar and pushed the bar out of the sockets and had it flailing over my head as the nurses struggled to hold on to it. It was hard to keep it together during this time as I was scared out of my mind and all the commotion wasn’t helping. I pushed for over an hour and a half. When the head started crowning my doctor quickly cut me, performing an episiotomy at the same time as he informed me he was doing it.
At 7:20 p.m. I gave birth for the first time to a beautiful baby boy weighing 7lbs 2oz. He had huge eyes and long fingers and feet. The nurses were busy for a while doing strange things to him and when they were done they wrapped him up and handed him to me. I was stunned that I was now a mother and scared that they would find out that I had no idea what I was doing. I could not believe they were letting me out of the hospital with this baby who was solely mine. I left the hospital after a weeklong stay and, armed with my book by Dr. Spock, I ventured out as a new mother.
As a young mother I was not fully prepared for the full experience of pregnancy and childbirth. As a result, I learned much the hard way and was reliant upon the hospital staff to assist me through the very sacred act of bringing life into this world.
Ten years later, this time in Vancouver, and after seven years of raising my son as a young single mother, I found a man that I knew I wanted to be with forever. We were only together for a short time before I found out I was pregnant. This time it was immediately different from my previous pregnancy because I really wanted another child and was ready to settle down. We moved in together when I was three months pregnant, so there was a lot going on in those early months. We moved onto a reserve and neither of us was working at the time. I was an aspiring documentary filmmaker and was filming everything. I wanted a more traditional birth and could not find a midwife in the Chilliwack area. I had a healthy pregnancy, did a lot of walking, and ate a lot of wild salmon and Indigenous meat shared with us by the people of Cheam from the Sto:lo Nation. My sense of smell was very sensitive and I craved the smells of cleaners and laundry detergents. I was constantly doing laundry, along with finding any excuse to clean the floors and walls with my hands.
Toward the end of my pregnancy, I found that my partner John and I were not prepared for the birth at all. This was his first baby and he started to become withdrawn from me the closer we got to the due date. Also, at this time there was a dispute over land and title between the government and the local Indigenous peoples, and the community of Cheam was involved in an assertion of those rights by having a roadblock. This was where John spent his days and nights—protecting the land but also staying away from having to think about being a new father.
It was a week before my due date and John and I were not on the best of terms, so I took a trip to see my mom in Vancouver. I was to return at the end of my weekend stay but on that Sunday my friend Bev visited and asked if she could be at the birth. She convinced me to stay one more night. She had a plan to induce labor with some cod liver oil. I was not a believer, but the thought of going to a hospital where I would be alone was not something I was looking forward to. She made me a drink with cod liver oil, orange juice, and an egg. I drank it down and got dressed for the day.
Nitanis and John.
I went to Lynn Canyon Park with my mom and ten-year-old son Tanner. We walked up and down the long stairs and I worked up a sweat. After our long walk, we went out for some Vietnamese food. The food was spicy and the cod liver oil was out as soon as it went in. When we returned, I had lots of energy and started cleaning my mom’s apartment that she shared with my younger sister Honey and her two-year-old boy. I scrubbed the walls until two in the morning. My belly was so hard, and I was feeling cramps, but thought it was the spicy food not agreeing with me.
At 4 a.m. I felt a hard almost popping feeling. It woke me abruptly. So I got up to go the washroom. On my way out of bed, I felt a hard contraction. Then another. They were close together. I went to go pee and I looked down to see my mucus plug come out. My mom woke up to see if I was all right and I had yet another hard contraction. It was quickly evident that I was in labor and we got ready to go. So I called Bev and let her know it worked and she got her wish—she was going to be able to be at the birth.
On my way out, we made a call to the Chief of Cheam so she could get John who was on the roadblock. Then we picked up my other younger sister, Skeena, on our way. The contractions were hard and long. I clenched my whole body tight in the back seat of my mom’s van. We arrived at the Vancouver Women’s Hospital and I was checked in to find I was five centimeters dilated. I was brought right into an emergency room to be prepped for delivery. We tried to find out if John was on his way. I never intended for him to miss the birth of his baby.
It was stressful. I was tired and in so much pain, without much breathing room in between. I was given gas, but it did not do much except make me dizzy. I felt like pushing and this time it took two good pushes and she crowned. Her head was quite large and I was told to take it slow, but she wanted out now and she came out fast. It was 7 a.m.
John showed up at 8 a.m. after we were cleaned up and resting. He got to see his baby girl who looked like a pretty peach with her round head and little fuzz for hair.
My body felt like I had been beat up for three hours straight. My body was sore even weeks later from having clenched so hard.
I don’t remember too much of the birth. I was in my own world and I felt like I was just trying to breathe, never mind feel like I had any self-control to calm myself. I had some tearing that the doctor stitched up. I stayed in the hospital for one night. Having the baby in the hospital, I found myself again reliant upon emergency medical assistance. I had given birth to my first daughter Kalilah (Coast Salish, meaning “Butterfly”).
A year or so later, I was visiting my sister in Vancouver. My sister thought she was pregnant and started to explain her symptoms to me. It occurred to me that I too had those same symptoms. I got her a home pregnancy test and it came with two sticks. I took one and she took one. It turned out I was pregnant and she wasn’t! This was a surprise because I was breastfeeding and had no period at the time.
We were so happy about this news. At that point we had gone through a lot and we were a strong family. The second time around, John had more involvement than he had had with his firstborn. He prepared himself to be at the birth and to help me labor.
We still did not have a midwife in our area or any traditional teachings that I felt would enable me to labor at home by myself. I was very busy with an internship after directing my first documentary and had to finish up before my son was born. I finished my final edit on June 22, a month before my due date, and I started having contractions. They were steady and strong and came every five minutes. I thought, this was it! He was coming early! I drove myself all the way to Chilliwack Hospital but when we got there the contractions stopped. After that time, I had false labor off and on every day.
During that time we felt that we wanted to be close to John’s family in Port Alberni. So, we packed up for a long visit and we planned to have our baby in Port Alberni at the hospital. I never really went to the doctor for regular checkups, and I did not feel a connection with the doctor. And though I had no problem with having my baby elsewhere, my son Qwyatseek (Nuu-chah-nulth, meaning “Wolf”) arrived again with the assistance of a family doctor and the nurses at the West Coast General Hospital in Port Alberni.
Upon the arrival of my third child, I became increasingly interested in traditional Indigenous teachings and practices pertaining to childbirth. Like many other expectant mothers, I found myself completely reliant upon health professionals. The hospital experience was quite evidently a very systematic and impersonal option that did not comfortably accommodate my family’s desire to be more involved and present. I was fortunate to discover that I became pregnant a fourth time, and I decided to seek out a more personal and fitting approach to childbirth.
Admittedly, by the fourth pregnancy, I had gained a lot more insight into the accompanying ups and downs. Now, after bringing eight children into this world, I have grown to appreciate that each pregnancy and each child is quite unique. Nonetheless, by that point, I felt much more encouraged and empowered to prepare for a homebirth.
I finally found a midwife. She had delivered my cousin’s baby. I immediately contacted her. She lived in our area and I quickly started researching and preparing for this new experience. Throughout the pregnancy, I started with the easier transformations of preparing my home, as well as the more challenging aspects of mental preparation.
For my first homebirth, I was drawn to the benefits of a waterbirth. Not only did this option provide the potential for a cleaner birth, but it also helped reduce labor pain. As the due date quickly approached, I began the process of readying my home for the coming event. We purchased a pool that could be quickly assembled inside our house, and cleared a comfortable space. On delivery day, I conveniently went into labor in the morning. Family, friends, and our midwife arrived very quickly. We spent the day talking and enjoying one another’s company while I labored off and on in the pool. The water definitely had a relaxing quality and proved to ease the labor pains. However, the labor lasted much longer than previous experiences, and so we induced hard labor by breaking my water. After that, I was ready to deliver immediately. My fourth child, a son named Nikosis (Cree, meaning “My Son”), was born moments later on the bed where I lay.
Although the waterbirth did not happen quite as I had originally planned (I had initially envisioned my child born directly in the water . . . swimming his way into this world), the water was very helpful and the act of having my child at home was not only completely possible but also deeply comforting. My family and friends, and most importantly my husband, were directly involved throughout the entire experience. Throughout the lengthy labor, my husband assisted with massaging and embracing me in a variety of labor-pain-reducing positions and my sister Skeena sewed a beautiful receiving blanket throughout the day. Overall, the experience was beautiful and set a new standard for my future births.
Soon after my fourth birth, I found myself journeying through my fifth pregnancy. This time we prepared for the arrival of my fourth son Tseeqwatin (Nuu-chah-nulth, meaning “Eagle”). As with my last child, I intended to prepare for a homebirth. All too quickly, however, I found myself toward the end of my pregnancy and I was not prepared. Labor came on very abruptly in the early hours of the morning and hard labor also came on quickly. Uncertain of how fast things were going to happen, I opted to go to the hospital and again had an assisted birth with my midwife, although in the all-too-sterile environment of the hospital. I was slightly disappointed in not being fully prepared for a homebirth and did not have the greatest experience with the hospital staff, but the smiling face of my newest little man was more than enough to ease away those thoughts.
Supporting and supported pool labor.
By the time of my sixth pregnancy, I was very committed in ensuring that all preparations were made well in advance to have another homebirth. I again opted for a waterbirth and was prepared to make every attempt to make sure that this child was in fact born in the water. With this pregnancy, I discovered that I had gestational diabetes and quickly made corrections to my diet. Any cravings that I had were easily taken care of with healthier alternatives and I was fortunate that my husband is a wonderful chef. Well before the due date, all of my birthing materials were prepared. The labor again came on early in the morning but this time I did not panic. My husband was taught how to check my cervix and we were prepared for anything that this birth had to offer. I enjoyed a quiet candlelit birthing space while laboring in my birthing pool, and listened to peaceful traditional music.
Tseeqwatin.
Again, family and friends arrived and provided me company and my children were also close by. As the sun rose, my daughter Chyyah entered into our life through an amazing waterbirth. I will always remember the joy as my husband delivered her and the excitement of discovering that it was a baby girl! Shortly after, my sons woke up and we all surrounded her with our love and happiness. It was a perfect homebirth.
Things went so smoothly with this homebirth that it was not difficult later on to accept the news of my seventh pregnancy. This time I wanted to go even further with taking control over my own birthing experience. I researched many different types of birthing rituals and immersed myself in all the teachings I could find about unassisted birth. My husband and I had become very confident in all aspects of childbirth and knew immediately that we wanted to take this one on independently. I contacted my midwife again to inform her of my pregnancy and discussed with her my desire to see this birth through with little to no assistance. She was very supportive and offered coaching and advice. This time around, I opted not to go with a waterbirth (especially since the due date was in February and it would be cold), but focused more upon the birthing space. Over the last two months of pregnancy, I prepared a birthing room that was filled with very positive spirit and comfort. My husband and I gathered all the materials that we would require for a homebirthing kit and waited patiently for our little girl’s arrival.
Ha’lidzox (Tsimpshian, meaning “Earth”) rushed into this world on her own terms. She waited until one day after her expected due date (which differed from my other children as they were all born at least one week before their due dates). I labored in a variety of positions with the support of my husband. We were surrounded by family and friends. Ha’lidzox seemed to fly into her father’s arms and we were again blessed with another beautiful baby girl. My two other daughters (ten and two years old at the time) were also great and helped me through the entire experience.
As I mentioned earlier, each pregnancy and birth was unique but the experiences with homebirth were very comforting and provided peace of mind. With each of the homebirths I had an opportunity to incorporate traditional teachings and practices. I used traditional songs and lullabies as well as traditional foods and medicines for ease and comfort. Increasingly, my husband also started to take on a more significant role and incorporated traditional teachings relating to the roles of a father.
John and Ha’lidzox.