birth is in bloom.

i have a new address.

2011-01-30T17:22:00.000-08:00

Sadly, the Birthtastic blog is not working for me anymore.

Happily, I believe we will have a lot more fun over at my new URL home.

I have moved to asmallbirdonfire.blogspot.com... please do come and visit!

mommy brain.

2011-01-23T15:57:00.000-08:00

I am fizzled out. We were doing pretty good at making things manageable around mi casa, but the past few weeks have been one epic fail following another. The fuzz has followed me to work, where I have exhibited short attention span, distractibility, and forgetfulness.
Here comes the part where I get to make excuses for myself.
Seth is becoming a terror. A sweet terror, but untamed nonetheless. Naptime has gone the way of the dodo bird, the high chair and the playpen make him scream bloody murder, and left to his own devices, he climbs ever higher. He is very resourceful, having learned how to pull kitchen drawers out and use them like ladders (one of them broke this week, which Dear Eric had to fix for me yesterday), how to push boxes up next to the bed and scale them in order to climb onto the bed (he likes to bounce on it), and how to pull up onto chairs next to the dining room table so he can reach whatever we have placed "out of reach". He has learned an amazingly good impersonation of the "temper tantrum".
I recently started setting the alarm clock for 3:30am. That is the only way that I can get a shower and get dressed, wash some clothes and/or dishes, do my daily Bible reading, take care of Seth, and get to work in time. That last one is up for debate, though.

I desperately wanted to say that my absence is due to "Mommy Brain" and the subsequent lack of intellectual fodder: until I learned that Mommy Brain was recently outed as a total myth. Apparently, my brain is more than OK. It is actually at optimum potential due to my current state of maternal bliss.
Unfortunately for those seeking a thoughtful blog with meaningful material, however, you may have to return to this one at a later date. We are now entering the so-called "Wonder Week" 55 (which apparently means that shortly before or after your child's first birthday, he or she has the potential to become a raving, foaming-at-the-mouth, picky, clingy, pester-some, touchy, needy lunatic- and this syndrome can last as long as a month).

new year's resolutions.

2010-12-31T07:55:00.001-08:00

The sun is setting on another year, and just like thousands of other bloggers in the world, I am going to impose on my reading audience a list of New Year's Resolutions...

...In 2011, I will...

...be more like a doula in my everyday life.

I will talk less and listen more.

I will demonstrate peacefulness.

I will be more patient.

I will observe more and act less.

I will know what I believe and be able to explain the reasons for my beliefs.

I will try to encounter more people face-to-face and approach them with empathy and concern.

I will practice the art of thoughtful and well-meaning touch.

I will try to grasp each moment and let tomorrow care for it's own, letting God and nature direct my days.

I will make time for laughter and play, because a smile is infectious and helps a mama open her bottom and others to open their hearts.

I will be prepared and ready for the call to action, organized and patiently expectant.

I will be determined and consistent to my goals

My goals for 2011 are...

...to stick to the budget and be closer to Financial Freedom in 2012, which is also more freedom to pursue my calling.

...to begin preparing for another child, both physically and spiritually.

...to be more involved: in church, family, community.

...to be a better steward of all my blessings: health, home, and relationships.

...to complete all the requirements for DONA certification and lay a smart foundation for my doula business.

---

What are yours?

experiencing motherhood.

2010-12-30T05:37:00.000-08:00

You may or may not have noticed that I haven't been covering birthy topics so much in recent months, at least not in depth or with much seriousness. I have to admit that this baby boy of mine has my hands completely full! He's not.so.much an infant anymore. Every day, he is more and more like a kid instead of a baby.
Ever since my so-called "Facebook Fast" this fall, I have been consciously devoting more and more time to watching my son grow and trying to adjust my mind to his level so I can really enjoy the time we have together. I told Eric one day, in sheer frustration: "I'm am just not very good at this mothering thing! I am way too serious!" I worry too much about whether the dishes are done or the clothes are folded or the toys are put away neatly. I have begun to realize that I need to alter my perspective on a very fundamental level so that I can enjoy mothering. Sometimes, I may need to just let the birth research gather dust and the toys stay strewn across the floor. I have decided that I will let it all go as much as possible. Just don't leave the dishes in the sink.
Here are some of the things we got to experience during the past few months:

1. dressing up like a skeleton for Halloween.

2. our first car. Well, really, we borrowed this one from a cousin.

3. first words: "kee-kuh." Translation: "kitty cat."

4. first shot at table food, all by ourselves.

5. first ride on a horse-y. Only, we called the horse a "kee-kuh."

6. snow on our first Christmas.
Which is a miracle because we live in Alabama and it has never snowed on Christmas Day in all of recollected memory in this particular area.

Also:
7. our first hospital stay. We were admitted due to poor respiration caused by a terrible case of bronchiolitis.
8. our total rejection of the pacifier. Altogether. Foul thing.

Ah, well. We only get these times once, so I am enjoying them. I plan a return to more academic blogging soon. I never stop learning, but I have to put my reading and fervor for knowledge in slow motion for now so that my son's babyhood won't escape me entirely.
Meanwhile, I offer much applause to Rachel at the Midwife Thinking blog for covering a topic that has been simmering in my mental pot over the past few weeks: being, the nature of the three stages of labor as defined within the medical model of care. I stand in total agreement that by limiting our perception of the progression of labor by a standard of definable stages, birth workers exclude the valid experiences of women that fall outside the defined norm. All women are as different as our fingerprints, and so also our births will follow.

christmas eve: pondering the birth of a savior.

2010-12-24T04:37:00.000-08:00

In the sixth month of Elizabeth's pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee, to a virgin named Mary. She was engaged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of King David. Gabriel appeared to her and said, "Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you! " Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean. "Don't be frightened, Mary," the angel told her, "for God has decided to bless you! You will become pregnant and have a son, and you are to name him Jesus. He will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. And he will reign over Israel forever; his Kingdom will never end!" Mary asked the angel, "But how can I have a baby? I am a virgin." The angel replied, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby born to you will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God. What's more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she's already in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God." Mary responded, "I am the Lord's servant, and I am willing to accept whatever he wants. May everything you have said come true." And then the angel left. A few days later Mary hurried to the hill country of Judea, to the town where Zechariah lived. She entered the house and greeted Elizabeth. At the sound of Mary's greeting, Elizabeth's child leaped within her, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. Elizabeth gave a glad cry and exclaimed to Mary, "You are blessed by God above all other women, and your child is blessed. What an honor this is, that the mother of my Lord should visit me! When you came in and greeted me, my baby jumped for joy the instant I heard your voice! You are blessed, because you believed that the Lord would do what he said." ... Mary stayed with Elizabeth about three months and then went back to her own home.
Luke 1:26-45, 56 NLT

I have spent some time this holiday season reflecting on how Mary must have felt when she was pregnant with Jesus. I've never wondered until now, having had a child of my own in the past year, how Mary's pregnancy progressed. Did she have much morning sickness? Did Jesus enjoy tickling her ribs with his toes? Just how swollen did her feet get, and did she develop varicose veins? When did she first feel him move? Did she have prodromal labor? Would a modern doctor have insisted on an induction due to lack of effacement or dilation on her "due date", or diagnosed her with cephalo-pelvic disproportion (CPD) or "failure to progress" in labor? How long was her labor? How long did she push? Did she tear?

I like this passage in Luke because it reflects the nature of Mary's spirit. She had a doula's heart. Mary went to visit her friend Elizabeth, who was of "advanced maternal age" and probably needed all the help and companionship she could get while she was in her third trimester. Mary stayed with Elizabeth for three months, until Elizabeth's pregnancy was full term, and probably also was present with her at the birth of John the Baptist as a doula to her friend. Elizabeth likely shared many conversations with Mary during their time together about their pregnancy symptoms, pre-labor preparations and so forth, and perhaps was able to allow Mary to learn from her own early breastfeeding blunders. How sweet it is to reflect on the mother of our Lord as a selfless companion to Elizabeth and the latter's role as a mentor to the vessel that bore a Savior to the world. In the absence of hospital-sponsored childbirth education classes and managed labor and delivery by healthcare providers, this is how women in the early Common Era learned about childbearing: by sharing their experiences with one another.

Bless all of you as you ponder your own favorite parts of the Christmas story with your families this holiday!

all i want for christmas.

2010-12-12T12:47:00.000-08:00

Cloth Pelvic Model Set
Fetal model that comes with an amniotic sac, placenta and umbilical cord, flexible pelvis and a perineum...

Cervical Stacker
These rings are my version of the colorful stacking rings that my ten-month-old likes to dump all over the floor and hide under the sofa, only mine illustrate the different stages of cervical dilation and are color-coded to represent the three stages of labor: early labor (1-3cm: blue), active labor (4-7cm: yellow), and the transition stage (8-10cm: pink).

Knitted Uterus
The ribbed "cervix" folds back to illustrate effacement and finally snaps off when "fully effaced". It will also keep the fetal model nice and cozy.

Baby Blockhead Model
...this model shows how the baby must rotate during his descent to be born through the pelvis.

Go ahead and say it. I already know that I am a little odd.
Additionally, I am hoping to begin teaching some form of childbirth education class during the upcoming year.
Therefore, if you feel so inclined, these are a few of the things I'd like to find under the tree this Christmas!

christmas card.

2010-12-08T07:19:00.001-08:00

Christmas card to our state legislator:
"As we celebrate this season of Birth, we ask you to please support increased access to safe birth options for all Alabamians by working to license Certified Professional Midwives in 2011."

For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
Luke 2:11 NKJV

keeping rhythm.

2010-12-06T16:00:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like a swiftly evolving "pre-toddler" (as I have dubbed him), and the wake of a 40-day retreat to evaluate you life through the lens of your faith, to redefine what you thought you knew about your life.

My spirit has been begging for order for some time now.

I have spent so long trying to conquer Mount Perfection, only to fizzle time and time again in total frustration.

To the point. I find it insanely humorous how God arranges encounters with serendipity for His kids. It started with a chance conversation that I had with a business acquaintance the day before Thanksgiving. He mentioned in passing that his son, who is six years old, is attending first grade at a Waldorf school in an elite neighborhood nearby. "It's his mother's idea," he says. "But I think it's a little over the top." However, he tells me, he does appreciate that this school encourages his son's creativity and playfulness and that he has heard that kids that go to these schools usually end up excelling academically by the time they reach high school age.

I didn't think much of the conversation. After all, there is not a chance in the world that we will ever be able to send our kids to a school like that- the tuition being more than our mortgage payment every month and such.

A few days later, I read a post at Birth Unplugged about creating order, even with a tiny dictator in the house. I can identify with Brittany so much, I think she may be my long-lost twin sister. Her youngest is about the same age as my son.

Her post led me to another, this one at Enjoy Birth, which is another blog I try to read frequently. How did I miss this post when it was originally published? I ask, because herein lies the life-changing-ness. Sheridan, you are singing my tune!

About this time, I realized that this Waldorf education they speak of is the same philosophy that my work associate spoke of when he was telling me about the school his son attends. I am intrigued.

I love links in other people's blogs because they draw me further into a subject and help expand on a topic that has me interested. That's why I also include them in my blog as much as I can.

From Enjoy Birth, I linked over to an article at the Magic Onions, and by this time, I am hearing angels singing. Now, this is what is really speaking to me.

Children thrive on familiarity and consistency. It is a sense of security for them, they feel safe and reassured to always know what comes next, to have a predictable day, a rhythm they can count on.

Herein is the main idea of my soul-searching, the concept that has been pestering my spirit for the past several months. Namely, how in the world am I going to help this boy of mine truly thrive while I am slaving my days away to a Corporation?

Nicole, the author of the article at the Magic Onions, has a blog of her own called Frontier Dreams.

So, I decided about a week ago to do what I can to make a Rhythm for our life. It is a work in progress. I began by starting the Beginner Babysteps at FlyLady, just like Brittany and Sheridan both suggested.

One week in, here is my report: I feel better about myself. My house has a little more gleam than it did before. I am definitely spending more time with my son, and enjoying the time I have with him more.

Is it a cure-all? No. But I do believe that it is the beginning of Something Good.
Definitely an answer to prayer.
More reports to come.

giving thanks.

2010-11-25T07:03:00.001-08:00

What I am thankful for this year:

1. I have a beautiful, healthy and keenly intelligent son.
2. My husband is a gorgeous, generous, gentle heart-ed soul, thoughtful partner and playfully attentive father.
3. I have a good family, dysfunctions not-withstanding.
4. I have a cozy home life.
5. Our day-to-day needs are met.
6. Warm pumpkin bread to share and home-made icing.
7. Eric and I both have gainful employment in a hard economy.
8. God has given me a passion and a purpose: to minister to childbearing women.
9. God used the birth of my son to open my heart to the call of aforementioned ministry.
10. I live in a country where I can freely share with others the contents of my heart.
11. White mocha cream in my hot coffee on a chilly morning.
12. The dog and the cat curl up together for a nap in the living room floor while the child naps curled up in my lap like an afghan and I can briefly contemplate what thankful means.
13. Breastfeeding and the way that I can be assured that my body is producing sweet liquid goodness that flows out into my son, both literally and figuratively, while slowing me down to connect myself to him and the other nursing women of the world.
14. We have the same amount of time in the day that Albert Einstein, Leonardo Da Vinci, and Mahatma Ghandi had in their days.
15. Bookstores and libraries.
16. Changing seasons offer an opportunity to see new but timeless beauty in the world every day.
17. Netflix.
18. The promise that today, I will get to eat all of my favorite foods!
19. The transformative power of total faith in salvation through Christ alone.
20. Seth is awake and it is officially play time!

40 days: the return

2010-11-24T15:05:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I completed a 40 day social media sabbatical. The decision to "fast" from Facebook, Twitter, and Blogger came as an impromptu response to some spiritual urging regarding the inordinate amount of time I tend to waste on piddly things instead of focusing on keeping my mind on the mission God has given me.

There it is. A confession. I waste time on the internet.

Now, I will abbreviate by saying Happy Thanksgiving, all! And please enjoy this totally awesome birth story, as told by the midwife that caught the baby. Tell a midwife you appreciate her this Thanksgiving!

the woman that gave birth and the dragon.

2010-10-12T17:00:00.000-07:00

"...Rejoice, O heavens! And you who live in the heavens, rejoice! But terror will come on the earth and the sea. For the Devil has come down to you in great anger, and he knows that he has little time." And when the dragon realized that he had been thrown down to the earth, he pursued the woman who had given birth to the child. But she was given two wings like those of a great eagle. This allowed her to fly to a place prepared for her in the wilderness, where she would be cared for and protected from the dragon for a time, times, and half a time. Then the dragon tried to drown the woman with a flood of water that flowed from its mouth. But the earth helped her by opening its mouth and swallowing the river that gushed out from the mouth of the dragon. Then the dragon became angry at the woman, and he declared war against the rest of her children -- all who keep God's commandments and confess that they belong to Jesus. Then he stood waiting on the shore of the sea.

Revelation 12: 13-18 NLT

I felt the devil attack my ministry today in a powerful way. He used the doubts harbored in my mind, and I felt hopeless and abandoned for a while. Then, this evening, I remembered what a friend said to me not too long ago, that "the devil attacks the most those that God can use most powerfully." She told me to feel honored when attacked by the devil, because it was a good sign of me going in the right direction. Sage advice, my friend.

I feel convicted to shut my mouth for a little while and just listen to the instructions the Lord is giving me. I'll return soon, but probably not this week or next. I've been tithing money, but it's time to start tithing more of my time.

birthday prez arrived.

2010-10-07T19:48:00.000-07:00

The custom Babyhawk that Eric ordered for my birthday finally arrived today. Now I just have to teach Seth to love it as much as I do!

The initial reaction from baby boy was unfavorable, but he calmed with the paci enough for me to wear him a bit and decide the shoulder straps are heavenly. I think he was just too tired, because he fell straight to sleep when I nursed him and is busy sleep-smiling at me now. Betting he's dreaming of the ride tomorrow since I have to take him for a trek to my doctor's office and then to visit the folks at my work. Perfect opportunity to test the new carrier!

ignorance, answered.

2010-10-02T16:43:00.000-07:00

Last week, the Huntsville Times covered last weekend's Walk for Midwives with a positive spin. Yesterday, the Mobile Press-Register published a responding commentary authored by a South Alabama pediatrician identified as "president of the Alabama chapter of the American Academy of Pediatrics." Dr. James C. Wiley, M.D., presented an unfortunately ill-considered view of the work the Alabama Birth Coalition is doing and failed to mention the mountains of evidence that the U.S. maternity care system at large is broken. Supporters of legislation to certify and regulate midwives in Alabama have begun to respond.

In his own words:
"The Sept. 26 article titled “March promotes legalization of midwives in Alabama,” from the Huntsville Times, presented misleading information and a dangerously misguided view of the midwifery.
First of all, midwifery is legal in Alabama. Certified nurse midwives care for pregnant women and deliver babies all over the state."

Upon visiting the online home for the American College of Nurse-Midwives to search for a Certified Nurse Midwife (CNM) in my area, I found that there are no CNMs within a sixty mile radius of my home in Birmingham, Alabama. There are four practices to choose from within a 100 mile radius of my home. There are nearly 100 obstetrical practices, both group and private, listed in the Yellow Pages for Birmingham.

"The issue that the women in this article are advocating for is lay midwifery and home birth. They support the notion that with little or no formal training apart from attending births with another lay midwife, these unlicensed practitioners should be available to deliver babies at home.
The person who cuts my hair has to be trained and licensed."

A "lay midwife" has not been required to justify her knowledge of birth through clinical apprenticeship and examination, such as the rigorous certification curriculum required by the North American Registry of Midwives (NARM). On the contrary, I want the midwife that attends the birth of my child to be licensed and registered by a state regulatory agency so that I can be assured of her credentials. A Certified Professional Midwife (CPM) is far from untrained.

"One needs only walk back through the old cemetery in any Alabama town from the years before modern obstetrics to see the graves of babies side by side with their mothers as the result of home delivery with no medical supervision.
Any Alabamian who cares about the rights of the unborn, infants and women should vigorously oppose legislation that would put babies at risk from these misguided decisions."

According to the Centers for Disease Control (CDC), the United States falls behind nearly all developed countries in rates of infant mortality. Fifty years ago the US ranked 12th in the world, but has since fallen to 30th in the ranks of international rates of neonatal mortality. That means that 29 developed countries are more successful keeping babies alive than we are in the US, according to the National Center for Health Statistics (NCHS).
Among US states, Alabama is one of the worst. Statistics released a little more than a month ago indicated the infant mortality rate had fallen in Alabama, but "I'm betting we're going to be in the bottom ten," state Health Officer Don Williamson told the Birmingham News.

"I have personally been present when emergency situations have arisen during labor in which babies’ lives were saved because of the quick actions of professional nurses, doctors and nurse midwives. In many of these instances, things were fine and then the crisis evolved in minutes.
Once delivered, babies sometimes don’t breathe or have other unexpected complications, including infection or immature lungs.
Who is going to be present to resuscitate the baby or care for him/her in the case of such of an emergency until EMS arrives? Is life-saving oxygen available at home?"

I cited one medical journal already during the past seven days, and I will add to that evidence this article in the British Medical Journal that found planned home birth to be as safe as hospital birth for mothers and babies.

CPMs are not unprepared. They bring fetoscopes and/or Doppler fetal heart rate monitoring devices and oxygen tanks to home births, and the knowledge of how to use them. CPMs are trained to observe mom and baby for warning signs before labor commences and during the birth. CPMs know how to avoid the cascade of intervention that notoriously leads to fetal distress in hospitals.

"Many obstetricians and hospitals allow individual birthing plans and listen carefully to the wishes of the parents during this most important time in the life of a family. Mothers are free to have natural childbirth and to breastfeed exclusively in the modern birthing centers, and they can outline this with their caregivers ahead of time in a care plan."

I researched my birth options before the birth of my son and discussed my thoughtfully constructed birthing plan with my obstetrician. He approved every point. On the day of my son's birth, labor occured precipitously and we didn't make it to our chosen birthing facility. An unnecessarily traumatic birth followed, and a hospital stay that undermined my ability to instinctively nurture my son. It took a long time to process his birth in my mind and accept that the early failures were not my fault.

I was lucky. I didn't bring home any literal scars.

I reiterate, therefore, my stance (stated earlier this week, albeit more simply): I will be yet another Alabama woman that will choose home birth in the future. I hope that I can find a care provider that is trustworthy and professional. I hope that, by then, she will be free to practice midwifery in my home without fear of prosecution. I hope that many more will follow my lead.

3-0.

2010-10-01T04:27:00.000-07:00

Light is sweet; how pleasant to see a new day dawning.

When people live to be very old, let them rejoice in every day of life. But let them also remember there will be many dark days. Everything still to come is meaningless.

Young people, it’s wonderful to be young! Enjoy every minute of it. Do everything you want to do; take it all in. But remember that you must give an account to God for everything you do. So refuse to worry, and keep your body healthy. But remember that youth, with a whole life before you, is meaningless.
Ecclesiastes 11:7-10

I feel the same this morning as I did yesterday, as it happens every year. In reflection over the end of another decade, however, I am humbled.

This decade, I lived in one mobile home, four apartments, and two different houses. I had two roommates, one deadbeat live-in boyfriend, and one wonderful husband. I lost respect for myself and then gained it back. I lived a little wild for a while and then I settled down. I had one big, sad, dark secret and one sweet answered prayer and symbol of redemption. I met the love of my life while working in a coffee shop and I married him. I finished a bachelor's degree, wondered what I was doing in life, and then I heard a blessed calling from the Lord to come back, to follow I Am again, and to minister to childbearing women. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. I went back to church.

My Twenties ended on a high note. My Thirties promise a lot to be thankful for.

Now to enjoy a beautiful autumnal day: Friday. The exclamation point of another week.

why homebirth?

2010-09-27T15:35:00.000-07:00

This story aired on one of our local news stations last week in response to the Walk for Midwives that took place this past weekend, and I felt it put local midwives in a favorable light. This is the kind of press I hope to see more of as we near the next Alabama legislative session. I love the peaceful, intimate moments that were shared in the birth photos, and I hope that these are the kind of postpartum images that will become the new norm in the United States.

They have become the new norm for me. I now feel jarred by the sight of a healthy woman sitting up in a hospital bed holding her healthy newborn in her arms.

Why would I choose a home birth?

I never want to have to transfer to a hospital in labor again. The transfer was possibly the worst part of my whole labor.

I am more comfortable in my own home. I cried the second night because my hospital bed was so uncomfortable, I could not sleep and it made my whole body ache. I wanted my own bed desperately.

In my home, I am in control. I am in control of who is and is not allowed to witness my baby's birth. I feel empowered by my familiar surroundings instead of intimidated by the bright lights and unfamiliar sounds. I don't have to ask permission to carry my baby up and down the hall afterward.

My next baby will be born here, legal or not:

I especially like the 35 reasons to choose home birth given by a blogger at Eco Child's Play.

"I learned that the majority of problems with childbirth weren't solved by hospitals, but introduced by them," commentator Annalisa Barbieri says at the Independent (United Kingdom). She adds, "...women are still told of all the risks of a home birth, and none of the benefits. The latter far outweigh the former."

What about safety?

Recently, a meta-analysis conducted by Wax, Lucas, Lamont, et al. created a firestorm in the media when it found that home births resulted in a neonatal death rate triple that of hospital births. However, the analysis has been much criticized for its use of flawed data and the inclusion of data pertaining to unplanned, accidental home births.

A different study, published last year by the Canadian Medical Association Journal, found that planned home births attended by professional midwives exhibited similar rates of neonatal death to hospital births, but lower rates of interventions and "other adverse perinatal outcomes."

"Though the U.S. spends more per birth than any other nation, maternal mortality is higher here than in 40 other industrialized countries, including Croatia, Hungary and Macedonia, and is double that of Canada and much of Western Europe," according to the L.A. Times. Few people are aware that the United States fails to keep more mothers and babies alive than other nations of the "civilized" world.

Lets talk about the politics of home birth.

On a humorous note, how about a Hathor the Cow Goddess thought?
You should also look here more wit and wisdom from Hathor, my hero.

The Big Push for Midwives has done a great job of condensing a few pertinent statistics in this slideshow:

And here is a short documentary created by University of Alabama at Birmingham students that explores facts specific to midwifery politics in the state of Alabama:

I smell change in the air! I've heard the pendulum is swinging, and I think the time has come for Alabama.

saturday doings.

2010-09-25T16:38:00.000-07:00

Today was an excellent day.

It has been exceedingly hard to write anything the past few weeks, as predicted. Seth is more of a handful every day, and it seems I have to hand him off to get free hands. I understand this will get worse before it gets better! He is crawling on hands and knees (fast!) and climbing up on things and trying to talk now. Eric is playing with him now, so I decided to take a moment and say a few things.

First of all, I haven't had many free moments during the last couple of weeks, but during the ones I have had, I have been working on the curriculum for my childbirth education classes. It's coming together, but I have to learn how to condense the information and make it easily digestible and not biased.

Furthermore, Eric and I have decided to undertake the chore of rearranging the house. We plan to move the entertainment center to the den area and make the living room a playroom and classroom. Currently, our home is in a state of upheaval and there is a large pile of items to discard or donate right by our back door. I wonder if we will get it all straightened out before we have Thanksgiving dinner over here?

Today, we attended the Birmingham Walk for Midwives. The breakfast was wonderful: a buffet of doughnuts, muffins, fruit, eggs scrambled with sausage, bacon, or breakfast enchiladas served with orange juice or local coffee from Primavera Coffee Roasters. We got to see some old friends and made a new one, and then we undertook a short-ish walk around the Highland Avenue neighborhood. Some people bore signs with slogans such as, "Alabama Women Deserve Midwives"... "Midwives Deliver!"... "I was born at home."... "Free the Midwives!"...and so on and so forth. I bought Seth a new onesie, which is still too big for him, but he'll grow in and out of in the way too near future:

I have a matching t-shirt, with the Alabama Birth Coalition logo on the back. I fully intend to sport it everywhere to raise awareness of the need for Certified Professional Midwives in our state! What an excellent conversation starter.

All proceeds from the walk registration, t-shirt sales, and the silent auction that followed will support lobbying efforts by the Alabama Birth Coalition to pass Senate Bill 414, drafted during the 2010 Alabama legislative session, which will license and register Certified Professional Midwives that can attend out-of-hospital births.

Alabama is one of only nine states in the U.S. that specifically prohibit midwifery.

After the walk, Eric and I went to the Birmingham Public Library with our little one and I traded in Dr. Jack Newman's Ultimate Breastfeeding Book of Answers for two books I have been dying to read:

I actually got to take a nap with Seth this afternoon, a rare occurrence. And Eric cooked chili with cornbread for dinner while we watched a rocky win by the Alabama Crimson Tide over the Arkansas Razorbacks (24-20). My fingernail-beds are bleeding, shall we say?

Seth is tired.

So Goodnight.

trying not to wake the monster.

2010-09-20T18:32:00.000-07:00

Seth is sleeping beside me, but I am trying not to disturb him. We just returned from a weekend out of town for the DONA birth doula training workshop. This past week was so wonderful. We escaped real life, where I have to be at work for nine hours, five days out of the week. I was able to spend the past six days (uninterrupted) with my son, and it was like watching a flower bloom in front of my eyes. He is developing his motor skills at lightning speed now, and I am in awe that he is the same little creature that emerged from my womb only seven months ago.
He was so wiped out by the excitement of our trip that he slept a good bit today, and I was able to get some household chores done. Tomorrow, it's back to the usual routine, which I fear means a return to the fast-paced grind that often keeps me from enjoying my newfound motherhood. God, I hope I can be a good mother.
See, even after birth, one will worry about her aptitude as a parent.
I suspect this continues a very long time.

I ordered business cards last night, and a custom Babyhawk. The Babyhawk is part of my birthday stuff from Eric. Already put in a request for this birth model stuff for a Christmas present. How very nerdy!

I am beginning to wrap my head around my new designation as a "DONA-trained birth doula". It's so exciting to be living in the will of God and to be filled with the passion of the Holy Spirit leading me.

Yes, you have been with me from birth; from my mother's womb you have cared for me. No wonder I am always praising you! My life is an example to many, because you have been my strength and protection. That is why I can never stop praising you; I declare your glory all day long!
Psalm 71:6-8 NLT

busy this week and next.

2010-09-13T06:17:00.000-07:00

I'll be at Birth Stories and More on Tuesday, and then Wednesday I travel north for my DONA certification workshop! I'll be back Sunday, but I'll also be working hard for The Man (you know, my real job) the week following the workshop. Then, on Saturday, September 25, I am attending the second annual Walk for Midwives for the Alabama Birth Coalition.

I'm rough drafting a few things that I have to say.

And watching my precious son grow up before my eyes.

Don't expect any big or life-altering posts from me this week or next.

buzz.

2010-09-10T09:42:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Spinning Babies for a little buzz!

ina may at uahuntsville 9.9.10

2010-09-10T04:48:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had the pleasure and privilege of hearing Ina May Gaskin, the renowned midwife, lecture at the University of Alabama in Huntsville. Her talk, entitled How We Got Here: Identifying and Reclaiming Natural Birth in a Medical World, was typical to Ina May's candid and laid-back manner. I found myself edified and encouraged in my new life path as a doula where God has placed me.
Ina May began with an abbreviated history of obstetrics, discussing real genital mutilation that took place at American doctors' hands during the nineteenth century, and the fact that the author of the medical school standby, William's Obstetrics, now in its 23rd edition, was written by an MD that had only personally witnessed two live births and had never participated in the deliveries.

If you have never heard Ina May discuss birth, you should see this video on You Tube to understand her frank and easy style. She discusses the unfortunate and rarely discussed topic of birth rape in the first few minutes of this clip, along with her theory of "Sphincter Law":

"Mothers have no idea they are making things more difficult for themselves," she said last night. "All critters" can give birth without interference, she says, and instinctively know how to take care of their young. Case in point being the elephant mother in this video:

Ina May posits the question why, in our culture that is so receptive to violent images, a user on YouTube has flagged that video as one containing questionable content. We can't bring ourselves to accept the beauty and natural-ness of a mother bringing new life to the world, and knowing without being taught how to resuscitate a seemingly lifeless infant. It reminds me very much of the woman that was in the news recently for bringing her baby back to life that had been pronounced dead hours before. "She found the wisdom within her," Ina May said of the elephant mother.
Ina May discussed at length the maternal death rate in the United States and how there are dozens of countries in the world where it is safer to give birth. She discussed some of the unfortunate stories behind squares on her safe motherhood quilt, shown in this video:

"What makes human mothers think they deserve to be treated badly, when animals almost always get treated better," when giving birth, she asked the audience. On forceps and other medical instruments, "Why would you think that if you assume that what's inside is too big to come out, that adding more stuff is the solution?" The question raised a cheer from the audience and some hearty chuckles. Thought-provoking stuff.

More on birth rape was published at Salon.com yesterday and also discussed at the Unnecesarean.

Perhaps best of all, to those of us that admire Ina May Gaskin, is that she announced that she finished a new manuscript on Wednesday and posted it in the mail to her publisher yesterday. It is entitled Birth Matters: Why What We Don't Know about Nature, Our Bodies, and Surgery Can Hurt Us. In it, she says, she is much more critical than she has been in the past of the medical establishment. "I am tired of being polite to doctors," she said.

I can't wait to read it! I have already read Ina May's Guide to Childbirth several times. I got my copy signed by her last night, and then noticed that it has been so loved it is about to fall apart. What a great night!

on optimal fetal positioning.

2010-09-05T06:07:00.000-07:00

A woman I work with asked me yesterday what I know about fetal positioning. She is 38 weeks pregnant. I palpated her belly, but had to admit that I am not experienced enough yet to totally know yet what I am feeling for, but I appreciated the practice. I'd love one day to be an expert belly-mapper. Nevertheless, based on her report of where her OB hears the heartbeat and where she feels his kicks, I guesstimated that he is head-down posterior (OP). So we talked about postures for turning a posterior baby, which could also alleviate her other concern: that he is not yet fully engaged in her pelvis. Hands-and-knees position can be the single most effective way to turn a posterior baby.

All my links come from the Spinning Babies website, which is a wonderful resource for women that are interesting in Optimal Fetal Positioning (OFP). OFP is the concept that a mother can influence her baby's position in the womb through postures and exercises in order for her baby to find the best placement for birth. A baby in the right occiput anterior (ROA, or head-down, facing the back and right) has an easier time entering the world vaginally than most other babies.

One of the most prevalent diagnoses given for Cesarean section is cephalo-pelvic disproportion (CPD) . In other words, many women are told their pelvises are too small to allow a normal-sized baby to pass through vaginally. Another common diagnosis given is fetal macrosomia (FM, for our purposes today). Macrosomia means the baby is suspected to be too large to pass through the pelvic opening. Both these diagnoses are used as ways to blame women or their babies for cesareans.
In truth, many women diagnosed with CPD during first pregnancies are able to have successful VBACs with subsequent pregnancies. "One study showed an 80% VBAC success rate for women who had undergone a cesarean for arrest during the second stage of labor (CPD)," according to the information about CPD provided by by the International Cesarean Awareness Network (ICAN).
Likewise, many babies with FM are able to mold through the pelvic opening for vaginal birth. There are tons of stories about big babies being born vaginally. Like this one.

It is amazing what OFP can do! I sent links to some information from Spinning Babies to my co-worker, and I hope it helps her. And for the rest of you, never doubt what your body can do!

teaching men about birth or how it all began.

2010-09-03T04:27:00.000-07:00

I just read this blog post about husbands' roles at a home birth and was immediately thankful for how wonderful and supportive my own husband has been through my journey to become a feministing birth worker. Or a birthtivist. Whatever you want to call me.
It started in January of 2009. Eric and I had just survived another holiday season with our families asking us when we were ever going to spawn an addition to the brood. We had tossed the idea around that maybe it was time, so I had started to do my research. I always do my research before I ever embark on any life-changing decision, and I do so to a fault.
Involving Eric in a decision is a little more difficult than necessary, if the decision is not pertaining to some new, marvelously technological fishing or hunting gear or about what to watch on television tonight. He's just a man, after all.
I ran across a film on Netflix called the Business of Being Born that month and felt compelled to order it. I didn't even really pay attention to the blurb about its topic, I just knew it was about having babies, so I was interested in the name of my "preparatory research".
The film arrived in our mailbox on a Saturday. Eric was out of the house for the morning, doing manly things out in the woods. Goodness knows, that's the best way I know how to describe his hobbies/interests. I'm alone, I think, so let me watch this film. Since it would be devastatingly boring to my poor husband, I will "get while the gettin's good." So I make a cup of hot chocolate and curl up on the couch for some me time.
Twenty minutes in, Eric stumbles into the house with a friend of his, clad in camo and smelling earthy. Ah, weekends, I think. "Whatcha watching?" Eric asks me.
"A documentary called 'The Business of Being Born'," I called back.
"Sounds terrible," he says. "Do you want me to watch it with you?"
"Whatever you want, babe." I said.
That is how Eric and his friend got suckered in to watching The Film that Would Change my Life.

Poor guy. We had only just begun to consider starting a family of our own and had not yet begun actively trying to conceive. But I have to tell you: we were both fundamentally changed by this film. Here is my honest assessment of this movie. My review, if you will. The bottom line.

Every woman in America that is going to have a baby. That might one day have a baby. That knows someone who is going to or might have a baby. Should watch this film.

Has anyone ever told you that an epidural can have a detrimental effect on labor, and hence, your baby?

No one ever told me this. There are so many things that I did not know about birth that I know now. Thankfully, I have a God-given desire to learn everything I possibly can about every topic that might ever have something to do with what I want to do for myself. Immediately after the film ended, the three of us- Eric, his friend, and I- looked at each other, astounded, and said, "Wow." That's how great it is.
I immediately picked up this computer and Googled "natural childbirth." That is how it all began.
I spent months absorbing every fact about birth I could get my hands on. I read book after book, article after article, study after study, and educated myself well on the topic. And I thought to myself the whole time, "What would have happened to me if I had never stumbled on that film?"
I tell you what would have happened. When I developed gestational hypertension at 37 weeks, I would have been scheduled for an induction. I would have subsequently received an epidural at the soonest possible time. I then would have had even more trouble pushing out my posterior baby than I really did. I may not have been able to at all, or he might have experienced distress due to not being ready to be born yet. I then would have had a cesarean and been so traumatized by the whole thing that I would have vowed to never have another child.
Let's get back to my dear husband. Eric has patiently endured my enthusiasm for a year and a half now. I have bored him silly with every new factoid and with my one-track mind. I see him rolling his eyes every time I preface a sentence with the phrase, "I just read this birth story, and..." After my first prenatal visit, during which the obstetrician told us we were crazy to consider natural birth and that we were going to kill our baby this way (I was eight or nine weeks pregnant at the time), Eric supported me when I said, "That's it. I'm going to have this baby at home, unassisted if we have to." He said we could do whatever it took for me to feel comfortable giving birth. We could hire a Tennessee midwife, go unassisted, whatever- as long as I was happy and healthy. This, of course, was before I met Dr. Head, a.k.a. our local "Midwife in Disguise."

I digress.

I am so thankful my partner is supportive. I am thankful he has faith in me. I am thankful he was there to be my defender and my cheerleader when my son was born. I am so thankful that he has been patient through my daily ranting and ravings about the dangers of traditional maternal medicine and held my hand when I had doubts. Now, as I enter the training phase of my aspiration to be a birth worker, I need him more than ever. And next time, when we have a home birth, I want him to be the one to catch our baby.

30.

2010-09-02T06:03:00.000-07:00

Today is Eric's birthday. 30. And I will follow after shortly, in just a few more weeks. Time sure goes so fast. It seems that yesterday, I was still fighting awkward teenagedom. My closest friends have been with me for more that half my life now. Eric won't even talk about how today makes him feel. It shouldn't worry him, though, because this decade should be our best. Supposedly, I will soon hit my sexual peak. And when I get pregnant again in five years (maybe our third child by that time?), I will be considered "advanced maternal age." Joy. Hopefully by then, the great and wonderful state of Alabama will have licensed Certified Professional Midwives and I won't have to sneak off to Tennessee to not be treated like a leper by my prenatal care provider. Oh, and this is the decade when we will learn everything we could ever hope to know about Little League, Boy Scouts, PTA, and Vacation Bible School. I will start driving a minivan, and we will sell our quaint two-bedroom cottage in favor of a ranch house with a fenced-in backyard.

For tonight, I can't offer much to my dear hubby for his birthday, since I am still working full-time and I am scheduled for a straddle shift (10am-7pm) today. We'll order Domino's Pizza and I'll get him some Hostess cupcakes at the service station before I come home to serve as birthday cake. Happy Birthday, love.

time for babylegs.

2010-08-31T14:33:00.000-07:00

Where, Oh Where? Where does the time go? Seth is crawling, and we have yacky-scratchy carpet. So, out come the BabyLegs! I so hope to get more pairs very soon. They are so adorable, don't you think?

how we fell into the formula trap.

2010-08-30T15:00:00.000-07:00

It starts in the hospital. Each room on the maternity floor is stocked with these cute little sample bottles of formula that are already equipped with nipples and premixed to the correct concentration. They are already perfectly dosed for a newborn (though not really, since a newborn's stomach is actually the size of a marble and cannot comfortably contain two ounces of formula). Actually, before that even, we were given samples of formula at our very first obstetrical appointment, when I was only nine weeks pregnant. We received a "gift bag" with an Enfamil logo and full of sample formula, a packet of literature and coupons, and these nifty freezer packs (also with logo).
When Seth was born, he was removed from me for about two hours. I estimate here, since that day was such a blur, but I know for sure it was more than an hour before I saw him. Initially, my wishes to have him placed on my chest were honored, and my son's writhing, crying body was placed on my belly. The cord was too short to bring him higher, but that was shortly severed and he was taken from me. I should have cried for him, but I was in a daze. For the brief introduction we had, I ran my hands over his slimy little body and said to myself, "This is my son. Is this my son? He doesn't even look human. Look at those fingernails. Oh, his poor squashed up head. I can't believe this is my son."
When Seth was finally brought to me, he was fast asleep. I tried to nurse him, but he just didn't seem interested. A nurse told me I could undress him and take his diaper off to wake him for a feeding. That didn't work. He slumbered so soundly, no change of position could wake him. No one can prepare you for how deeply a newborn can sleep.
When I finally got him awake to attempt nursing, I had an IV stuck in my arm that I had to awkwardly navigate. It was pointless, I knew, but the nurses insisted that after my son was born, I would need IV antibiotics in order to combat the high white cell count that was detected upon my admission to the hospital. I asked to have the IV removed when I realized that it was impairing my ability to hold my son to nurse him, but was told that I had to wait "x" number of hours. Finally, the night shift started, and my night nurse agreed to take it out.
When I finally thought I had him latched on, he nursed heartily. For a long time. I was scared to fall asleep with him in my arms. I put him in his little bassinet next to me and tried to sleep in that awful hospital bed. They kept me in the same bed that broke down for laboring... it was the most uncomfortable bed in the world. Seth woke up 30 minutes later. I nursed him again. For a long time. Again, I was afraid to fall asleep with him in my arms. The cycle continued.
The second day, I asked for a lactation consultant. After about three hours, she finally arrived. Seth was asleep in my arms when she came in. She asked me some questions; God help me, I don't remember what they were. She described to me how Seth should appear to me when he latched on to know he was nursing well. After a five minute discussion, she left the room. She never asked to see Seth actually nursing. When I next nursed my son, I tried to remember the things she told me, but they were not helpful.
The nurses came in every two hours to check our vitals. The second night, I began crying because the hospital bed was so terribly uncomfortable, no matter which way we adjusted it. The night nurse came back in and took Seth to the nursery to be weighed and have his bilirubin level checked. They were only gone for a little while. When she brought him back, she announced that he had lost almost 1% of his birth weight, which is the dividing line she said the hospital used to determine that a newborn was failing to thrive. If we couldn't begin to nurse more effectively, she was going to have to give him a bottle in order for us to be able to take him home. She gave me a one hour deadline to nurse him for at least fifteen minutes on each side.
When she returned, I lied and said that he had nursed well on both sides before going to sleep. I, myself, had about three hours of sleep during the 48-hour period we were in the hospital. I was desperate to get home to my own bed. The pediatrician, during his pre-discharge examination, was encouraging and said that Seth's weight loss was within the normal parameters. I felt better and we packed up to go home.
How, exactly, do you survive nearly a week with no more than one hour of sleep at a time? It is an ages-old mystery.
On the fifth night, I was at my wit's end. Additionally, each latch on by my son began to be accompanied by the most exquisitely excruciating pain I had even felt. The pain was worse than labor, and I began to scream out when he tried to latch on. He also screamed. My mother was spending the first few weeks after his birth in our home with us, and she began to plead with me, "Please, just let me give him a bottle. You need to rest, and you both need to calm down."
Let's return to those sample bottles of formula. I never intended to use them. I had planned to find a charity to donate them to. I never imagined that breastfeeding would not come naturally. I never imagined being tempted to put an artificial nipple into my days-old son's mouth. Here I am, having survived almost a full week on less than eight hours' sleep altogether. I was desperate, and I relented.
My mom gave Seth a bottle and I put together the manual pump I had bought just a few weeks earlier, rubbed lanolin on my painful nipples, and I used the breast pump for the first time. The milk I retrieved was tinged pink with blood. I did not nurse Seth for the rest of the day. I rubbed olive oil and lanolin on my breasts and pumped every two hours. That evening, we took Seth to my grandmother. He was born on her 89th birthday and I wanted her to meet her "birthday present". My dad fed him a bottle and I closed myself in the bathroom upstairs, diligently eking as much milk as I could from my breasts. Meanwhile, I found an online resource to encourage myself to continue trying to breastfeed my son.
Seth's birth weight was 7lb., 4oz. Discharge weight was 6lb., 11oz. At one week, he was 6 lb., 10oz., and at two weeks, he weighed 7 pounds even. After an additional two weeks of combined breast-and-formula feeding, at four weeks, Seth was 8lb. 5oz. I felt triumphant.
At first, it was very gradual. Seth only got one bottle a day or less. After 24 hours with no nursing, I brought him back to my now-healed breasts and used what I had learned by researching online to bring his (not too hungry) mouth around my nipple. I was fortunate not to have a son easily confused by the rubber nipples, and from then on, he really did nurse like a champ. I really hoped to be able to breastfeed him exclusively.
At around three and one-half weeks, I crossed over the hump in my time left before returning to work. I only had three more weeks to have Seth to myself. I began to consider seriously the nature of my full-time work as a manager in a very large and well-known corporate "big box" retailer. I counted the hours I would have to go without being able to use my breast pump. In retail work, you can't leave the task you are working on to take a break any time you want to. No matter what the law of the land, in a busy retail store the break times have to be very rigorously structured in order to maintain any semblance of productivity. The best I could hope to achieve was between four to five hours between pumping sessions. I began to try to mimic that schedule with Seth, but had to give him formula between to keep him from being hysterical. I was so tired, I just gave in to the half-formula, half-breastmilk idea.
When I went back to work, I pumped three ounces at a time. Within a week, the amount dropped to two ounces each time I pumped. I cried when the milk from one "expression session" no longer satisfied Seth's hunger on its own. We mixed formula with the breastmilk. We used up what we had frozen while I was on maternity leave very quickly. I was so miserable about it.
Considering the rocky start we had, it is a miracle that we continue to nurse at all as Seth ends his seventh month with us.

I put him in the crib on the other side of the house when my leave ended and turned on the baby monitor at night. I tried to give him formula before bed so he would sleep longer and express milk before I went to sleep. When he woke up after four or five hours, I put him in the spare bed and co-slept and sleep-nursed him for the rest of the night.
Around four and one-half months old, Seth began waking more frequently. He finally came to bed with both me and my husband, Eric, and that is the arrangement we have now: the family bed. I no longer try to get him to sleep as long as possible: we nurse all night if necessary, and I sleep right through it. I now strive to give him nothing but breastmilk when we are together. We are more successful than you might ever think we would be, given the circumstances. I plan to continue giving as much of my milk as I can until he is two years old, and then my husband and I can try to conceive again. Eric now agrees that he couldn't imagine it any other way than sharing our bed with our son for as long as possible.

It can be done. I have to be blunt. All you really need is a set of tits and the determination of a mule.

in retrospect.

2010-08-28T09:37:00.000-07:00

I wrote Seth's birth story the night after he was born so that I wouldn't forget it, but I had not yet fully processed his birth at the time. In retrospect, there are a few things that beg mentioning.
First of all, I believe babies know the way to be born, though I curse that Seth chose to turn posterior when he broke my water and dropped. That is just his nature, apparently: to go about it the hard way. The position of his head (without the chin tucked to the neck) and the fact he was "sunny side up" gave me terrible pains radiating around my pelvis and up my spine, and the pain did not let up between contractions. I initially regretted that I had chosen to "go natural" and briefly thought about asking for a drug, any kind of drug. At that moment, I felt God's hand on me and realized that, if Jesus could suffer for me so I could have Eternal Life, I could suffer for a while so my son could have a corporeal life. The thought encouraged me, and I realized that drugs would certainly interfere with my pushing this baby in a difficult position.
I had an anterior placenta, which means that the placenta was attached to the front side of my uterus. It is common for babies sharing the womb with an anterior placenta to turn posterior. However, laying flat on your back it the worst way to try to give birth to a posterior baby. Once I got on the stretcher for the ambulance, I was stuck in a lying-down position. It was very hard to push effectively that way! I wish desperately that someone had suggested I get on hands and knees to deliver him. This position would have been much more effective than trying to catheterize me or turning me side-to-side repeatedly, and may have prevented the need for an internal monitor. In the throes of labor, I couldn't think straight enough to consider this option. A knowledgeable doula could have considered this possibility! I lament that I did not have a doula.
On the other hand, I also believe that if I had stayed at home sitting on that toilet, Seth's birth could have been shortened considerably. The squat position you assume while sitting on a toilet shortens the birth canal and gives the baby a straight shot out. I remember asking one of the paramedics if we could please just stay right there, and he actually said, "Are you crazy, lady? Let's go. We have to get you to a hospital." Meanwhile, my husband had picked up my phone and started talking to the 911 operator. She told him that if he didn't lay me flat on my back, she could not help him help me. I was later told by my mother-in-law that the paramedics were scared to death they might have to "birth" my baby.
In reality, we definitely could have made it to the right hospital. I wound up having to get a refund from my OB's office and paying all of my insurance deductible to the hospital where Seth was delivered. I disliked the experience at the hospital where Seth was born and hated giving them the monetary credit for all of his prenatal care as well as his delivery. I wouldn't have had to do that if it would have been legal for me to have a home birth. Seth's birth is the perfect example of a birth scenario that would have been aided by the birth attendant meeting the mother in her home rather than the mother being rushed in the midst of "hard labor" to a hospital. I firmly believe that transport stalled the natural order of the pushing stage of labor and delayed my son's birth.
Regarding the attempted episiotomy: The American Congress of Obstetrician-Gynecologists began recommending several years ago that episiotomies no longer be routinely given. An episiotomy weakens the naturally stretchy perineum and guarantees a second-degree wound (extending into the muscle tissue) that will require many stitches and an often painful and difficult recovery. If this doctor had been taught ways to support the stretching perineum, I firmly believe that I would have had zero tearing during my son's birth. Additionally, the woman did not use local when she stitched me up (I believe because she was still mad about the altercation with my husband), causing me undue pain. I screamed out every time she stuck the needle in me. It was awful.
Concerning Seth's difficulty with breathing during the first minutes of his life: I believe that the fact his cord was cut too soon caused Seth undue respiratory distress. That is why I had requested delayed cord clamping and Eric told the nurses that he wanted to wait a minute before cutting his umbilical cord. Some studies "found that the partial pressure of oxygen in the umbilical artery of the newborn babies who had late clamping had risen, while there was a lesser need of oxygenotherapy after birth," per this academic article and numerous others I read during my pregnancy. It is time that hospitals begin to recognize the importance of allowing newborns the benefit of continued physical attachment to their mother immediately following birth.
Which draws me to my final conclusion regarding the ills of hospital birth as it applies to the birth of my own son. The separation my son and I endured following his birth was plainly unacceptable. I was too exhausted to care or complain about it at the time, but I seriously regret that he was not brought to my arms until a few hours after birth. I did not see him after they cleaned him up until he had already passed the newborn "quiet alert" period and had fallen asleep. My dad came in the room after I was cleaned up and took a photograph of him laying in the warming bed and brought it to me on the other side of the room so that I could see my son. In retrospect, this event is terribly sad because it should never have happened.
I was told that Seth had to be in the warmer because his body was not regulating his temperature well enough yet. This, despite the fact that the best warmer for a baby's body is his mother's naked chest. The practice of kangaroo care for newborns is both lifesaving and a boon to beginner breastfeeders. The best time for a baby to learn how to breastfeed is during the first hour of life. Once the baby falls into the deep sleep of a newborn, it may be difficult from that time forward for him to learn to latch on to the breast effectively.
This is what happened with Seth. Though I wrote that he was nursing well the first night, I was a beginner when I wrote his birth story and did not know that he was not getting the milk he needed. We subsequently battled nights of excruciatingly painful nursing and bloody, cracked nipples until I learned that my son was not latching correctly and was able to correct the problem. No woman should ever be sent home following the birth of her child not knowing that her child is not eating the way he should. Breastfeeding is not nearly as intuitive as one might believe. Furthermore, the nurses in the postpartum unit should never offer to feed a breastfed baby a bottle, as happened with us. I did not allow it, but I am now horrified that the conversation took place at all. Each nurse that we encountered, even the lactation specialist, gave us different and even conflicting advice. No one had the sensitivity to determine that there was a latching problem and correct it before we were discharged.

These are the reasons I chose to become a doula.

models of care.

2010-08-27T15:26:00.000-07:00

Today, I want to discuss the two different aproaches to pregnancy and birth. There are two models of maternity care practiced by health providers. One is commonly referred to as the Medical Model of Care and the other is the Midwifery Model of Care. The Medical Model of Care focuses on pathologies, or abnormalities, of pregnancy and childbirth and the methods of treating them. The Midwifery Model serves belief in the inherent normalcy of pregnancy and birth. The problem with many health professionals in modern American obstetrical practice is that they have never heard of the Midwifery Model of Care, or that they discount its effectiveness in reducing the number of interventions required during a physiological birth.

Women in North America live in a culture of fear regarding birth that is perpetuated by the Medical Model of Care. We discount the possibility of our body's ability to give birth to our children without the comfort of an epidural or narcotic drugs, and therefore submit ourselves to a string of interventions that we have begun to believe are a normal part of the birth process.

I used to be the kind of woman that had never met another woman who would even consider a natural birth. It is true, I believe, that natural birth may not be for every woman, even those that are physically healthy. Even a woman that is physically in the best health she has ever experienced has to have the correct mind frame to approach the birth process without fear. The absence of fear may be the single most important factor needed in order to achieve a normal birth with minimal intervention. Many things that the average American woman learns concerning the birth process (from peers, the media, and even health professionals) lend themselves to a general mood of paranoia and fright about childbirth.

What women need to know is that we do have a choice in how we are cared for during our childbearing cycle. We can give control of our birth to a medical professional or we can learn to trust ourselves and seek care from a professional that follows the Midwifery Model and will empower us to make our own decisions about birth.

Please note that not all midwives follow the Midwifery Model in their practice. Likewise, an obstetrician is not by definition a proponent of the Medical Model. I was fortunate enough to have my prenatal care with an OB that believes in womens' bodies, but (unfortunately) wound up delivering my child into the world on the watch of an on-call doctor that really believed my child might die in my vagina. The difference between the two approaches was striking.

What would you do if the only thing you knew of birth was this?:

What if you never knew birth could be like this?:

funny video.

2010-08-26T15:23:00.000-07:00

A friend sent me this on Facebook this morning and I thought it was great! I hope you all enjoy it!

paid in full.

2010-08-13T13:42:00.000-07:00

I paid off the balance on my doula certification workshop this week, so I am officially on my way to becoming a DONA certified doula. I have never been more excited. I cannot wait to become a bona fide birth professional! I am looking forward to being able to witness the miracle of birth first hand on a regular basis.

Soon, I will need to come up with a name for my business and start advertising my services. I will need to buy business cards and the supplies for my doula bag. I can't believe that it's real.

Most of all, I hope that I can find enough work to be able to stay home with my son (and not have to get a part time job). I have complete faith that the clients will come. Then I can start planning to homeschool Seth and start planning for the next baby of my own! Honestly, the best part of this is getting pregnant again. I have the baby itch real bad. I loved being pregnant and I am so anxious to do it again.

Soon, I will start posting my research for my childbirth education curriculum, including outlines and links to information about the precursors to the class. Stay tuned!

birth stories.

2010-08-05T18:29:00.000-07:00

I believe that it is very important for women who have given birth to share their stories with other women, especially when they had wonderful births. For so long in our history, birth has been a taboo topic. For a large swath of the last century, women were even put under general anesthesia for the birth of their children and do not even recall the event. I know one such woman that still speaks of how wonderful it was to be put to sleep and wake up in a strange room with her baby removed from her and people surrounding her.
By keeping silent about our birth experiences, we rob other women the benefit of the knowledge that women's bodies are equipped to do amazing things in order to bring new life into the world. Even the difficult births need to be discussed, especially to help the mother cope with her feelings about the birth.
I love this collection of birth stories , especially the natural birth stories and the home births.

went to the beach.

2010-08-02T19:17:00.000-07:00

We just got back from a terribly uneventful trip to the beach. It was hotter than the devil's backside and the ocean was soupy with seaweed, so we had a pretty boring time. Seth was not a fan of laying back in the sand- he cried every time I put him down in it. I finished reading Ina May's Guide to Childbirth again (the second time) and went book shopping at some of the used stores- scored a secondhand copy of the Diary of a Midwife (recommended by Ina May, of course) and a novel called The Birth House that looks excellent. It's back to work at the day job tomorrow and I've never hated the thought of it more!

shopping list.

2010-07-23T17:00:00.000-07:00

I am making a shopping list of things I will need for my "doula bag".

1. birth ball- also known as a 65cm yoga ball, I was sitting on one when my water broke and I went in labor with my son.

2. birth ball cover- how cute is this? And so handy.

3. rebozo- I wish someone had used one of these on me. Here is a video showing a rebozo being used on a woman in labor:

4. essential oils

5. unscented massage oil

6. comb for acupressure

7. tennis balls for lower back massage.

8. hairbrush and ponytail holders (I wish desperately that I would have had these with me when in labor with my son. Then I wouldn't have a picture of myself with afro-puff hair that my dad took after he was allowed in the room. Oh, and the steam coming off my neck...)

9. rice sock

10. lip balm

11. nutritious snacks (fruit leather, nuts, dried fruit, Clif bars, honey sticks, nut butter) for me and the family.

12. Emergen-C packets (so good for an energy boost- I used them all the time during final exams when I was in college!)

13. DumDum lollipops (to stimulate the pressure point in the roof of the mouth)

14.Washcloth (to wet with cool water for the mother's face and neck)

List of things to pack for me:

15. Change of clothes

16. Toothbrush and toothpaste

17. Roll of singles for the vending machine

18. Camera, pen and paper to record the birth.

19. Breath mints and gum.

20. The Labor Progress Handbook by Penny Simkin- apparently a lot of doulas recommend having this on hand at all times!

Thanks to all the other doulas who have posted lists of must-have items on their own blogs. I used others' suggestions to pick and choose the things I want in my own bag. Hopefully the list I compiled can help others in the future plan their doula bags!

new journey.

2010-07-22T19:21:00.000-07:00

I registered this week for a DONA (Doulas of North America) workshop to begin the certification process to become a birth doula and childbirth educator.

This is my life's work. It's been about a year and a half since I realized that my calling is to minister to women in the childbearing year.

One birth of my own under my belt now, I am setting out on this journey with total faith that I will be blessed, inspired, and God will be magnified on this path. It is such a thrilling feeling to do what is right!

birth day story.

2010-07-22T18:31:00.000-07:00

Born: February 9, 2010 11:30 am
Weight: 7 lbs. 4 oz.
Length: 20 1/2"

I woke at 5:30 am, while E was getting ready for work. We fixed breakfast together and chatted. I let him know that there was a meeting I intended to attend at the YWCA that morning, and that is all I had planned for the day. He left for work, and I sat down on my yoga/birth ball to watch CNN for a little while and eat my breakfast.
At 6:20 am, I felt a pop and then I felt S drop down in my pelvis. I immediately began feeling gas-like craps, but since I had not felt any contractions prior to the "pop and drop", I was not convinced at first that the dropping feeling was actually the baby. I finished my breakfast quickly and got up to go to the bathroom. I took my cell phone with me so I could monitor the cramps, and they were coming about 4 minutes apart.
After about 5 contractions, I got off the toilet (not having been able to either pee or poo) and went to take a shower. I decided that I would call E home from work if the shower did not help alleviate the discomfort. By the time I got out of the shower, it was all I could do to get down on the floor on hands-and-knees and let out a good bellow. I could tell the contractions were coming very quickly. It was about 6:45 am when I was able to get E on the phone and tell him I thought he needed to come home. I was still not convinced that I was actually in labor because it was coming on so fast and I couldn't identify the source of the cramping.
I made it back to the toilet and sat down again, and I was only there for about 3 contractions when my body started pushing involuntarily. It was all I could do to hold back. I looked into the toilet and saw blood, and then I knew for certain that what I felt was more than a wicked case of gas! Realizing I still had to wait for my husband to get home, and that he was traveling home through morning rush hour, and that we'd then have to travel almost an hour to my chosen hospital (closest natural childbirth-friendly OB)- again, through morning rush hour: I reluctantly opted to call 911 and get an ambulance ride. I knew we would not make it to our hospital, and I was not prepared for an unassisted birth. I tried, unsuccessfully, to get in my Hypnobabies (hypnosis for childbirth) "safe place", but I had already transitioned and it was scaring me, since I was by myself!
I called 911, and while I was talking to the operator, she coached me through pushing for a while. She asked me to reach down and feel for his head, which I couldn't feel, but I came up with a bunch of clear amniotic fluid on my hands. I don't remember a big gush of fluid at any point, though I'm sure it happened sometime during pushing, after we got to the hospital.
E arrived home right before the paramedics, and his mom arrived shortly thereafter (He had called her to come meet me, in case he didn't make it in time). I'm glad I called the paramedics, because we got a straight shot into labor and delivery, where I was able to get relatively relaxed. We opted to have them take me to a nearer hospital, and I was scared about going somewhere that the staff was not familiar with me. I comforted myself with the knowledge that my OB had told me at my appointment the day before that he'd be in surgery that morning- so I knew he wouldn't be catching the baby, anyway.
I hated the ride, however, because the EMT that rode in the back with me was rude about me refusing an IV and refused to unstrap me (I kicked the straps off my feet, at least- I didn't care what he thought). E brought my water bottle, and I was able to take a few sips between contractions. Despite what I planned for- laboring upright, etc... I was actually more comfortable laying down. I was very surprised that changing positions was actually the most unpleasant experience of all! That was the first item on our birth plan that went out the window, and I was OK with that, since I was more comfortable laying down.
I really, really did not want to have an IV, and the EMTs tried really hard to get one in. Fortunately, my veins kept blowing out, and neither they nor the L&D nurses were ever able to get one started (until after delivery, when I was given antibiotics because of an elevated white blood cell count and fluids to combat dehydration).
The nurses that were with me once I was settled in a room were absolutely wonderful. They actually asked to see my birth plan, applied warm compresses and performed continuous perineal massage. I felt so awful that I left the bag of chocolates that I had bought for my nurses (which is part of the Hypnobabies childbirth program philosophy- to bring treats for the L&D team). They tried to help me get in a more upright position, but we ultimately decided that was not going to work, and they laid me back on my back.
I pushed for more than three hours. We arrived at the hospital at 8:15 am. One of the nurses performed a cervical check right away, and I was already complete. I feel certain that I was probably "complete" before we even left the house in the ambulance! The EMTs were telling me not to push, but I ignored them roundly. E never left my side. He tried over and over to reach my parents, and finally got them around 9:30 am. My mother arrived an hour later, and she helped me remember some of my Hypnobabies cues to get relaxed between contractions. She was a very good doula.
The single most important thing that kept me from giving up (because I was so exhausted) was E's level of excitement as we made progress. I had no idea where S was in the birth canal, but he was taking two steps forward and then one step back every time I pushed. E kept telling me how good I was doing.
S got a little stuck for a while, and I really started to get discouraged. The nurses moved me onto my side to try to help rotate him. I actually hated pushing on my side, because I couldn't relax my legs in between contractions.
Here, another item on the birth plan went out the window. On my side, the fetal monitor lost S's heart rate, and the nursing team started preparing an internal monitor. I objected at first, but eventually and reluctantly gave in. My own OB had agreed to allow intermittent monitoring, but I had to recognize that this was a different hospital, and we had diverged from the path we had planned.
I kept taking sips of water throughout. S just wasn't rotating, so we moved to the other side. He still wasn't rotating. One nurse pointed out that my bladder was full, and suggested a catheter. I consented, knowing that it could help him move down if we could empty my bladder. Unfortunately, he was already so low that the catheter didn't work! Another nurse suggested that I visualize "pushing up, toward the light." For some reason, that visualization was just what it took and got him over the hump! From there on out, progress was steady, and E's excitement grew.
"I can see his head!" He exclaimed. I was so relieved to hear those words.
"What color is his hair?" I asked.
"It's blondish-red," E replied.
I got really excited then. All along, I hoped he'd have hair like his father's hair. Now I knew he did!
From there on, I kept visualizing his head coming all the way out and pushed with all the muster I could stir. I vocalized loudly and boldly. The nurses kept telling me to be quiet and save my energy for pushing. They were trying to count and encouraging me to "purple push", but I just ignored them and did my own thing. At this point, I knew what I was doing! Strangely, I chose natural childbirth from the beginning so I could have control over my baby's birth in every way, and it didn't pan out like I visualized. I found it hard to make decisions for myself or think about anything but getting my baby here, and I most certainly lost control... but I knew to follow my body above all, and I am pleased to know I did that.
Finally, after a monster effort, his head (appeared) to be crowning. I later learned that it was closer to "browing"- despite months of me mentally coaching S to drop with his chin tucked, he stubbornly tried to come into the world face first. That is why he wasn't turning well and I had such a hard time getting him out! He was also posterior. The nurses called the doctor to come for delivery.
This is where things almost got very bad. The doctor arrived, and I could feel bad attitude oozing off her. Very shortly, she reached for a huge syringe of anesthetic. E immediately paused her to ask, "What are you doing?"
She announced that "this is a very big baby and I'm going to have to cut an episiotomy."
I shot up off the bed and shouted, "NO!" Through gritted teeth, I growled, "I. Prefer. To tear. Naturally. If that is going to happen!"
Simultaneously, my mom and E both objected with me. E went into Papa Bear mode and started to step in front of her.
"Don't you dare try to stop me!" The doctor shouted. "Fine. You'll get a dead baby," she said. "What if his shoulder gets stuck and we can't get him out?"
Another contraction came on, and I pushed with everything I had. Then his head popped out! I never felt the "ring of fire", but I did feel myself tear. I did not wind up with an episiotomy, so this doctor escaped being charged with assault. Fortunately, the tearing was minor- a small second degree tear that required two stitches.
One more item on the birth plan went out the window then. A nurse asked E, "Do you want to cut the cord?"
E said that yes, he did, but we wanted to wait a minute before doing so. Before he could finish the statement, the doctor had already cut the cord.
They laid S on my tummy, and his poor head was so squished and purple. He wasn't terribly cheesy with vernix, but we learned that he actually had a nuchal cord and it was very short, as well.
Shortly, the placenta popped out- at which point, I realized that I had been distracted and that the witchy doctor had actually been tugging on the cord to get my placenta to detach. She better be glad that I did not hemorrhage or wind up with a prolapsed uterus! I was so angry to learn that.
Things got a little tense soon after, when the L&D team checked S's stats. He had a little bit of a hard time breathing right, but he wound up getting an 8 and an 8 on his Apgars.
The baby that was "so large he could have died during birth" actually weighed in at 7 lbs., 4 oz., a very average weight. I was surprised, as I had been expecting him to be much larger all along! Even though the nurses spent a good deal of time working with him to encourage good breathing, E never left his side.
S slept beautifully all day. All the family came to see him, and I quite enjoyed being able to eat and get my energy back while everyone loved all over him. I knew that I wouldn't be able to hand him off to take care of myself very shortly, so I decided to enjoy the reprieve while I could! Kiddo nursed lazily several times through the day, but finally got a great latch on and nursed healthily around 10:30 pm, and fell fast asleep afterward.
All in all, despite abruptly changed plans and a couple of compromises, and eventually having to fight to get the ending we wanted- E and I couldn't be happier with our perfect little man! He decided to come on his terms and not ours, but in the end we got the natural birth we wanted and a perfect baby boy.