Tea with Jodi Podcast S1 E1

You’re listening to tea with Jodi, with your host, Jodi graves. This is episode 1.

Welcome to Tea with Jodi, a podcast designed to have in depth conversations about birth and postpartum in the US. We cover topics from standard birth and postpartum practices to maternal and infant mortality and morbidity rates, lack of follow up care and post birth routines, what evidence- based care is supposed to look like, current legislative change around women’s health care or lack thereof, and so much more. So why am I hosting a show like this? I’m hosting a show like this because we need someone to say what isn’t being said about what birth and postpartum is like in the United States. As a doula for the last 22 years, I know what birthing people are going through. I know what’s being said and done to them, and what type of consequences people are suffering because of it. And I’m hosting the show because I’ve been there. I’ve given birth in this country, two times. I gave birth to my first baby with very little knowledge about what to expect. Ignorance is bliss, you could say. My doctor insisted that I be induced since he wanted to go on vacation. You don’t want to give birth with a stranger, he warned. The induction began at 8am on September 30, and by 3pm, I was barely dilated. The doctor insisted that I have Pitocin added because he had a tee time at 3:30pm. As soon as the Pitocin got into my system, the contractions hit like a freight train, one after the other. At 3:50pm I looked at the nurse and exclaimed, I have to push. Oh, no, you don’t honey, it’s just the contractions picking up. No, it wasn’t. She checked my cervix and my baby’s head was nearly ready to be born. Out the door she ran muttering an expletive under her breath. My doctor arrived at 4:10pm and slid into the room like Tom Cruise in Risky Business, and proceeded to do things to me without my consent, that I later needed years of pelvic floor therapy to fix. My baby was born at 4:21pm. I did not get to participate in my first birth, things were simply done to me. My second birth was six years later. This time, I was sick for the whole pregnancy, hyperemesis gravidarum. If you’ve ever had it, you know exactly how miserable it is. I spent much of my second pregnancy in bed. I lost more weight than I gained. I never had any chance to recover before I was a mother of two. Poof! Out the door with you. You’re no longer being cared for. Home Alone with my perfect babies while my partner worked (there was no paternity leave back then). I never had a chance to recover. I never even had a chance to rest or to eat well before the anxiety set in. Would my babies be okay? Would they get some illness and never recover? I would die if something had happened to them. It didn’t take long for despair and depression to follow the anxiety, for which there was no help. My midwives wanted to do something. But there really were no providers at that time. So I suffered in silence for the full year postpartum for sure without help. That led into year two, when my daughter got sick in October of that year with a double ear infection. And I just thought it would be okay. We’d treat her and she’d recover. But exactly one month later, she started vomiting and couldn’t seem to stop. ER visits, consults with doctors and specialists. Every test they could imagine. And we couldn’t get past it. No answers turned into whispers of something every parent views as their worst nightmare. All of my anxieties were about to come true. So I snapped. I hadn’t slept in a week, the only food I eaten was part of a protein bar and half a salad in at least a week. I begged my partner for sleep. I was absolutely exhausted and had nothing left in my tank. Please just let me stay in a hotel room to sleep for a couple of days. But because he didn’t believe me, he forced me to agree to see a psychiatrist in town that night under whose care I would eventually proceed. As soon as I sat down on that psychiatrists couch, I started crying. It was clear I wasn’t well. I was so tired and so broken at that point. Before we were very far in this session, she said she wanted to call my partner. She was very concerned. If I refused to call him she was calling me an ambulance. My understanding was at the conclusion of that call, it was decided that he should take me to the ER. That ER stay only made me feel like a criminal. The ER doc didn’t believe that postpartum anxiety and depression were even a thing, so he refused to come in the room to see me. Ultimately, I was committed to a psychiatric ward without my consent. I was medicated and woke up at a nearby psychiatric hospital and had no idea where I was or how I got there. My four day stay didn’t cure me to say the least. I spent my time talking with a Vietnam vet, a suicidal black man and a teenage girl with a substance abuse issue. My assigned therapist admitted he had no idea how to help me so he did nothing. Medication wasn’t the answer for me. Although I tried a variety of things. I needed sleep, I needed coping skills, and another pair of hands. Thank goodness for our nannies because they saved me. Postpartum doulas didn’t exist back then, but I sure could have used one. Someone to understand me even just a little it would have saved my life. I’ve said many times over the years that I wish I had me a postpartum doula when I had my babies. The sum total of my experiences, and my subsequent recovery made me realize that we’re doing more harm to newly postpartum women and their families than we can measure. Although time has marched on since my bad experience, we aren’t much farther along in the types and quality of care and services that we provide to birthing people suffering from any kind of mental crisis during this time. We still treat people like criminals: how dare you be anxious or depressed, or feel anything other than grateful when you had a healthy baby! How dare you take time away from your baby for you or for your recovery. You’re simply supposed to suck it up and push on. People are expected to give birth and then go home with no one to help them, or in many cases, even check on them for at least six weeks postpartum, and prior to their only allotted post birth checkup. People are being ignored and getting lost in “the black hole of healthcare”, that time between birth and the first visit with their doctor or midwife. In six weeks time, a person can have dropped so far into the depths of despair they may never return. Or, they can have had a mental crisis, or a medical crisis like a blood clot or an infection that never gets diagnosed or treated because their next appointment with a clinician is not for close to 10 weeks postpartum. “It’s the only time we can get you in to see your doctor. But it’s okay. We can look at your cesarean incision on your cell phone on day four. And we won’t need to see you again for 10 weeks. It’ll be great.” But it’s not great. We’re leaving people to flounder. And it’s hurting birthing people. It’s hurting families. It’s hurting communities. And frankly, it’s killing women and their infants. Something has to change. I knew something had to change even as privileged as I was, and as much as I was afforded, I knew what we’re doing isn’t right. I became a postpartum doula to help bridge the gaps that are created for people with a health care system that sits by and does nothing while women suffered needlessly, both mentally and physically. I became a doula because we’re doing things to women in birth and postpartum that are profoundly affecting them for the rest of their lives, even forcing them to never have another child for fear of repeating the same horrors. I created this podcast to do something, anything to expose these truths, and get people to listen to those who are suffering or who cannot speak for themselves. Because the suffering is universal. It’s happening to women of all races, of all shapes and all sizes, and socio economic standing. It’s time we stopped playing Coy and start talking about it to find some change. At exactly the same time, we’ve taken away women’s bodily autonomy, and are forcing women to have babies. The time is now. I hope you’ll continue to join me as we rattle some cages and talk about some hard shit and rally the troops for change. Please join me as we spill the tea on a variety of important topics, and discuss all of these modern birth and postpartum issues. I’ve learned over the breadth of my career, my experiences are far from the exception. In fact, quite the opposite. Because of this, I’ve created the group, “Tell me a story… about your birth.” If you have a birth or postpartum story that you would like to share, please join us in this movement by sharing on our Facebook page, “Tell me a story… about your birth“, where we’re gathering stories, both good and bad about your specific birth and postpartum experiences. Or, send me an email to post anonymously for you, Jodi@jodigraves.com. This is your host, Jodi Graves of Tea with Jodi, thank you so much for listening. That’s it for today’s episode. Thank you for taking time out of your day to listen to our podcast on these important modern birth and postpartum issues. If you like the show, we asked you take the time to subscribe, and consider leaving us a review. Also, please share this podcast with a friend.