Old people rock!

Today, an elderly couple stopped to chat with me. The woman mentioned that she has two great grandbabies. She saw my brood and asked if they were all mine (NOT in the usual condescending tone). When I confirmed they were, she smiled and said, "Four is a great number. It's a perfect size for a family." I smiled and said, "We think so."

I can't tell you how nice it was to hear something like that. So often, my gaggle of kids is met with wide eyes and a horrified, "Are they ALL yours?" I must point out that my kids are very well behaved. People make these comments while the kids are standing right beside me in the super market or are sitting on a bench with me at the park. It's not as though two are attempting to do a trapeze act from the light fixtures while one rolls around on the floor and the baby's busy pickpocketing someone's wallet.

So I was very grateful for the kind and accepting words of that woman.

She reminded me of Cleo, who lived across the street when we moved in. She moved to a nursing home years ago, but she was a lovely elderly woman in my neighborhood. Cleo was 93 and had eight children and more grandchildren and great grandchildren than she could remember.

When I was at my wit's end with colicky premature twins and a husband who worked the night shift when he wasn't deployed, I would pack up the twins and go for my daily constitutional. I'd pack them in the stroller and walk around the neighborhood. I'd stop to visit Cleo on her porch and we'd chat, mainly about babies (hers were born at home).

One time, I tried to make a hasty exit when the twins were particularly fussy. Cleo didn't even bat an eye. Whereas we always hurriedly left restaurants when the twins made so much as a peep which caused people's heads to snap around violently so that they could glare at us; it didn't bother Cleo in the slightest.

I told her they were hungry and started to rush away. After she asked if I was nursing and I assured her I was, she said, "Then just feed 'em. In my day, they got hungry and we fed 'em. No need to get up and go. You've got what you need. "

That was when I was still new to nursing and nursing in public was often a tricky fumbling disaster. So I was so relieved to hear her say such a thing. Not long after that, I became quite the pro at nursing in public and I think Cleo's reassurance played a big role in that.

Letters From the PastTucked Inside the Closet

Yesterday, while getting ready for bed, Girl2 came to me and said, "There's an envelope taped to the wall inside our closet. Should I take it down?" She did and I opened it.

In the envelope was a letter from the girl who last lived in this house. I knew there was a young teenage girl here, but we never met her. Based on the handwriting and the letter itself, she was about 12 or 13 at the time.

She wrote about how this house had a lot of happy memories for her and a lot of bad as well. She wrote about how she hoped the new owners would enjoy it and how she hoped we would take care of her house.

This absolutely made my daughters' weekend. I thought it was pretty neat too. We've lived in this house for 8 years. How have we managed to miss that all this time? I'm glad we did, though. I'm glad it was my daughters who found it when they were old enough to appreciate it. How neat is that! This is the stuff of those sappy pre-teen novels.

Although, I must say, that note from a little girl written nearly a decade ago has me wandering our halls looking at our home with new eyes.

We planned to move years ago, but weren't able to for various reasons. Then, we were supposed to be gone this past summer, but the economy made that impossible. We find ourselves complaining about how we can't wait to move out. We have a long list of things we want (more than one bathroom would be phenomenal). We have wander-lust. We want out. We're anxious to move on. This house has become a relic from our past to which we're shackled long after it has outgrown its usefulness.

Since reading that letter, though, I find myself walking the halls and wondering if that little girl, now a woman, would recognize anything in this house. We've put so much work, so much time, so much love into this place. This was our first home.

All of our children took their first steps in this house. My children's heights are marked on the inside of the foyer closet door. My youngest was born in this house. A big "Welcome Home," banner was stuck in this front yard when Dh returned from his deployments. Hell, it was in the back office of this house where I started this blog 4 years ago.

Being a military family, we never felt at home. We moved from rental to rental, but those places were never, "Home." Some of them weren't even comfortable. This place, though, this has always felt like home. That's a huge deal, particularly to someone who lived for 20 years in the same house where four generations of her family had lived. There was never any doubt that that house was home and ever since I left, I found myself searching in vain for somewhere else that would have that same comfortable quality. This place was exactly that.

I want to thank that little girl for her note, not only because it excited my children, but also because it made me look at this house with new eyes. We're still ready to move on, but I can better appreciate that this house has a soul all its own. It was here before us. It was here for us and hopefully, it will prove to be not just a house, but a home for someone in the future.

The not so wordless Wordless Wednesday: The evil dryer from hell

6/17 UPDATE: No new washer/dryer for me. Home Depot made it absolutely impossible to change the order, so I had to cancel the whole thing. No new washer/dryer. Oh hell. Now what?

If you follow me on twitter, you've read my endless string of complaints about my evil dryer from hell (yes, that is it's technical name and it must be referred to as such at all times).

The last straw was when it ate an entire load of clothes. Each t-shirt had about 20 scorch marks/holes. I have a postpartum body and not many clothes into which I currently fit. I have very little spending money. I have no patience for this. I can't deal with this.

The evidence of the evilness of the aforementioned evil dryer from hell is presented below.

Oh dryer, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways (and holes and scorch marks).

2 holes and 1 and 1/2 scorch marks.

3 holes and a scorch mark

3 holes (there's a small one on the far left plus the big one and smaller one on the right) and 2 scorch marks (the one on the left is difficult to see).

3 holes

1 hole

1 scorch mark and 1 hole

That last one is my daughters' dearly beloved Lands End bathing suit. I was very upset over that. It's by far our favorite bathing suit, but we can't afford to replace it right now. Well, the WONDERFUL people at Lands End read my tweet wherein I mourned the bathing suit (and two companions). They contacted me and offered to replace it. AHHHHHHHHHHHH. I could kiss every single person at that company.

My mother offered to buy us a new dryer AND a new washer as an anniversary gift (while it's true the dryer recently started sounding like an epileptic robot was trapped inside, the washing machine has done a wonderful imitation of a helicopter for months. When my midwife washed our towels and sheets after TheBaby's birth, the noises emanating from the washing machine scared the hell out of her. "Are you sure that's okay? Are you REALLY sure? That sounds bad.") . Yes, this is the same mother who has been out of work for 6 months. The new NOT evil washer/dryer from mom will be delivered on Monday.

Yeah, my Wordless Wednesday wasn't so wordless. Whoops.

Again, 6/17 UPDATE: We are NOT getting a new washer/dryer.

Home is...

This post is written in response to Twitter Moms' Away We Go Contest: Tell Us What Home Means To You and Get Prizes!

We were, until fairly recently, a military family. We have been moved around. Some of our things still have moving ID stickers from 2 moves ago. We have been dropped in areas where we have no family. We have had to split up our family for deployments and training. We have had to create our own definition of home.

Before dh and I married, home was the same house where I and 3 other generations of my family lived. If you look in my father's high school year book (the same high school I attended), you see the same address listed under his name as you find in the back of mine 37 years later. Home was the same town and house in which I had always lived and I had deep roots there (literally).

I had a difficult time feeling at home anywhere once I left that house. We moved into an apartment when we were first married and I liked it, but it wasn't home. It was exciting when we rented our first house, but I was never comfortable there. When the military moved us, that was the most awkward of all.

Before we had children, when my husband was away & we didn't know where the military would send us next, my husband told his friends, "Home is where the wife is."

We had children, the "War" started, and my husband left. He eventually came home to much older children who could do so much more than when he left. He came home to a house completely redecorated. He came home. He would leave again for training and not too long after, he left for yet another deployment. Each time, he was welcomed home.

Right now, "Home," for us is our house with our family. Home is the bedroom where our youngest daughter was born. Home is where our children took their first steps. Home is where we cuddle under the blankets and listen to the rain fall.

But take away this house and we know we'll still be able to find home. As a child, "Home," was that house. As an adult, a mother, and a military wife, I've come to realize that home is not always one specific place. Home is a feeling of comfort, familiarity and safety.

"Where we love is home--home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."-Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

3 It's the Magic Number. Then Again, Maybe Not

I've taken some time to process some information and I still don't know what to do with it. For the most part, we have decided not to share this with people we know IRL. I don't know why. I'm just not comfortable talking about this with most people I know in the real world (as opposed to my imaginary friends in the computer). I'm going to post about it, though, because I need to talk myself through this.

You remember my youngest daughter? She's the oh so adorable infant who came into this world in the most amazing fashion at home and completely changed our world. Remember her? Well, we found out that she was not a singleton.

She was a triplet. The other two, however, didn't make it past the first trimester.

Early on, I wondered. In the early days, this last pregnancy felt very similar to my twin pregnancy, only moreso. I was far more exhausted and nauseated than I was even with twins. Since I was so tired and sick, we put off getting an ultrasound until later than usual. We saw one baby on the ultrasound and breathed a sigh of relief. Now, though, we realize they were already gone by then.

When TheBaby was born, there was evidence of the other two. G-d bless the midwife, though, she didn't explain the signifigance of it. I had my suspicions (as dh later admitted as well), but I'm glad to have avoided the weight of that when I was busy cuddling a tiny newborn. Our amazing homebirth wasn't tainted by the knowledge of what we lost.

A few weeks ago, I asked the midwife about it. I expected her to tell me we were reading too much into it and that these things weren't an indication of other babies at all. Instead, she said, "Yeah, that's the only reason that would happen."

I had triplets. Well, I "had" them in the sense that, for a brief period, I carried them. I didn't actually give birth to them. I need to be able to own that. I need to be able to acknowledge that they were there. I can't do that much in real life.

I still don't know how to think or feel.

I know we never would have had the birth we did if I had given birth to triplets. TheBaby's birth was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced. For the first time, I was able to give birth to a child in a way that did NOT put the baby or me at risk. The birth completely changed my world.

Could my body have carried triplets to term? All signs point to, "No." My daughters' prematurity was a result of my body's inability to provide for them. I never went into labor. They were cut out because I developed pre-eclampsia and my body put them at risk. Yes, midwifery care prevented the problem in later pregnancies, but my midwives couldn't have taken me on. A triplet pregnancy after 2 c-sections would have ruled out a homebirth and would have limitted the pre-natal care my midwives could have provided.

For oh so many reasons, having three babies would have been devestating.

I know full-well that this was for the best.

Still, we had triplets. For a little while, I carried two babies that we'll never know.

I'm torn between the logical and the emotional. I don't regret how things worked out. My daughter is a blessing. Her birth was a blessing. Still, I wonder.

The wee one took pity on me and decided enough was enough. No more torture for the mama. Instead, WE HAVE A BABY.

She (yes SHE) was born last week. It's a girl--a gorgeous chubby little girl with wisps of hair and bright blue eyes.

She was born at home. No cutting me open this time. My body did it on its own. I pushed her out myself (with the midwife's help) and then reached down and grabbed her to pull her up to my chest. That was something I desperately wanted--to have my baby on my chest. Every other time, my babies were whisked away from me either in a rush to the NICU or just to another room so I could be put back together. I have never even held my children in their first hours. In that time, I was always lying flat on a table while doctors sewed or stapled me back together. This time, I wanted to know what it was like to have the baby immediately come from inside me and rest on my chest from the outside. I got just that and it was amazing.

Dh cut the cord. That's something he has never done before and something I always hoped he would. This time, he did.

There were many recitations of the Shehecheyanu. I said it over and over again. I can't tell you how many times I said, "Oh thank G-d." As has been the case with all my children, the first words I spoke to my daughter were the first few verses of the Sh'ma.

When it was over, dh and I went to bed--OUR bed together, the same bed where our youngest was born. I was on my side, he on his, the baby sleeping between us and we held hands and stared at her completely fixated and in love (with her, with each other, with life).

Our baby is here. She is healthy. She had the best possible entrance into the world. She helped fullfill so many dreams and hopes.

In all my life, I have never felt so powerful. I have never felt so in awe. I have never felt so thankful. I have never felt so close to G-d.

Baby update: Torture me baby one more time

With my son, I lost my mucous plug, my water broke and my labor began all within a few hours. While I had some Braxton Hicks contractions, it was very obvious when real labor began and once it did, it didn't stop until my son was born. There were no questions, no false starts, no doubts.

Two weeks ago, the baby dropped. I recognized the pains and sensations in my hips as the same ones I experienced last time around 2 weeks before my son was born. Last week, the contractions/surges started--real contractions, unmistakable sensations. That was around 6pm. They were 10 minutes apart. We went to bed and they continued. They ranged from 5-20 minutes apart all day and night, from 6pm one evening to about 11 pm the following evening. Dh took time off work. We worked to get the house ready for the midwives. Then the contractions stopped.

Then we did a lot of cursing. As we've been doing ever since. The contractions/surges will pick up only to stop.

I've never experienced anything like this before. I'm doing pretty well working with the surges now (wasn't initially), but it's breaking my heart and frustrating me to no end to have these starts and stops.

It's one thing to work with your body when you know a baby is on the way. It's quite another thing to feel like your body is playing some sort of sadistic trick on you. My life is NOT one of the Saw movies. Please cut that out. I am 9 months pregnant. Now is NOT the time to torture me just to watch the reaction. I can assure you the reaction will involve expletives, whimpering and probably fair amounts of projectiles.

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all...

I am now two months away from my due date. Gasp. Cheer. Hooray! I'm feeling more and more hopeful about a homebirth. When the new year came, it brought with it a sense of electricity and optimism.

On a whim, I checked out my year over-view horoscope and found this:
Year 2009 Overview

In 2009, Pisces will enjoy swimming in new dimensions, as the highly charged Aquarius energy allows you to dream big and manifest your ideas. Your imagination soars, awakening a deep desire to seek spiritual truth and meaning in your life -- and in the world.

Your awareness and new perception helps to serve others. You are able to live freely in the world of transformation, and this encourages others to do the same. They feel supported by your wisdom and understanding. Your inspirational qualities are a large part of your purpose in the world -- your ability to heal and inspire.

Ohhhh, I like that. Let's hope my healing and inspiration extends to myself as well as others.

Tomorrow, I have an appointment with the chiropractor. I've never seen one before, but my midwives are hopeful that adjustments will help repair the damage to my back (a skiing injury 20 years ago may have contributed to my pelvis issues and my back has never been in correct alignment since then). I'm hopeful as well. I'm really looking forward to this appointment.

Tuesday, I have a midwife appointment. I always look forward to those. I adore my midwives.

I'm not as apprehensive as I was. I'm still trying to hold firm to realism (which is difficult for me. I'm a Pisces. As my horoscope continued to say, "At times, it may be difficult for you to live in this world of concrete realities, and conversely, sometimes it's hard for others to understand that all you want to do is live in a world of endless possibilities."), but I believe in hope. We wouldn't have even tried to get pregnant again if hope had abandoned us. Hell, we would have never even tried for a second pregnancy without hope. My first pregnancy was so dangerous, yet none of those problems appeared in my second pregnancy nor have they manifested now.

Hope is real. Hope is strong. Hope, I haz it. :-)

Pregnancy update

I have lost more than 10 lbs on my midwives' nutritional guidelines. Before I got pregnant, I busted my butt to lose any weight with no luck. I went to the doctor, worked out 2 hours a day, watched what I ate all to no avail. I should have just checked with the wonder midwives back then and saved myself the time and trouble.

My uterus has popped. I've been showing, but now, I'm showing even more. Someone even said to me, "Hey, now you look pregnant." Yay!

Upon sending my mother the first belly shot (you know this is our 4th baby 'cause I didn't even take any belly shots until now), I was thrilled when her reply was, "I was surprised. You don't look bad." She didn't mean it that way, but my mom sometimes misses out on that whole tact thing. That was actually the best I could have hoped for from her. Last time around, when I was about 29 weeks pregnant and sent a photo, she replied, "So, you got fat."

I think I may have felt some movement in services yesterday (Shanah Tova to my fellow Jews), but I'm not sure. I didn't feel a kick (it's a little early for that), but more like the kid launched him/herself off one side and smacked into the other. TheBoy did that a lot during my last pregnancy, but not until much later. I'm still not certain if that really was movement, but I'll wait and see what I feel next.

I can now go quite a few hours between meals (yippee) and I'm not feeling nearly as sick. Although, that constant gagging has been replaced by actual vomiting. I've only thrown up 3 times this entire pregnancy, though and all of them between 10 and 13 weeks. I can deal with that. I'm still extremely tired, but it's getting better.

I ordered a birthing pool. It's a little earlier than I would have liked, but it's the best time for deals on pools. I found an inflatable kiddie pool that is often used as a birth pool on clearance at the Toys R Us website. It cost me less than $15. I used left over gift cards, so it didn't cost me any of our money. The same pool runs from $45-$100 on sites that specifically sell birthing pools. After the baby is here, it'll be a pool for the kids (once it's cleaned, of course).

Had some blood work run at my midwife appointment and it came back perfect.

I would love a little more patience. That would be lovely right about now. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be making an appearance. I'll keep working on it, though.

So far, so good.

The Other Side Of The Glass

Midwife: Sage Femme... first brought this to my attention.

It highlights some of the events surrounding birth that can be traumatic for babies. In the clip, I heard them say at least twice that whether you birth at the hospital or home, these are things about which you need to be aware. Really? Because I've never known a homebirth midwife to literally tear a baby from it's screaming mother's arms (you'll see that in the clip). They may very well exist, but I've never known a homebirth midwife to behave in that way. I suppose you should be aware of it no matter where you birth, but it really seems as though you only need to be concerned outside the home.

Regardless, the video is quite compelling. Stay with it. It doesn't get to the heart of the matter until a few minutes in.

Thursday Thirteen: Random Early Edition

I'm only a little early.

I'm at a complete loss right now, so this week, my Thursday Thirteen will feature a random list of thoughts fresh from my stream of consciousness.




Thirteen Thoughts Rampaging Through My Mind Right Now



1…. I really really REALLY hope the military doesn't reactivate my husband.

2.....The speed of light is 186,000 miles/sec

3.....I memorized #2 when I was in the 7th grade on a field trip. It has actually proven to be very useful.

4.... Bamboo can grow 15 feet in 7 days.

5.....I learned that bit of information when the big kids and I were studying Tu B'Shevat for school.

6....Starbucks actually offers the Peppermint Mocha Frappacino year round, but they only put it up on the menu in December. Although, after December, you can't get those nifty little pink peppermint sprinkles on it.

7....The same is true of the Java Chip Frappacino. It may not always be on the menu, but you can get it anyway.

8....That last bit of information came in very handy after my sister had her baby (a homebirth, btw). I headed out to see her and asked what I could bring. Her only request was Starbucks, but she lamented the fact that the Java Chip Frappacino was not on their current menu. I was able to provide her with her chocolaty coffee goodness despite what the menu proclaimed.

9....I've never understood why Kermit sang, "Why are there so many songs about rainbows?" There aren't. There's ONE.

10....Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring banana phone. Although, in my head, it was the dead-pan talking version of the song, but I can't find that right now.

11....Long after our kids stopped watching Caillou, my sister and I will still randomly bust into the theme-song.

12....The Muppet Show is the kids' show that I think had the best theme.

13....I wish surfaces were all self-dusting.




Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

My OB saved my life.

My OB saved my life. My OB almost killed me (and my children). This was all during the same pregnancy.

Katie's comment on my OB/Midwifery post got me thinking. I, too, can say an OB saved my life. Problem is, it was the OB who put me in danger in the first place.

First and foremost, I must say that OBs do have their place. They do save lives. Often, though, they create emergencies or make situations appear as though they are emergencies when they are not. Midwives are trained to calmly assess. OBs are trained to provide medical interventions to correct the problem or the perceived problem. Often times, there are circumstances that doctors consider high risk whereas a midwife does not. This isn't because midwives are blind, but rather because midwives are trained to recognize and treat challenges very early. They want to keep you in their care and the only way to do that is to keep you low risk. OBs typically don't have that focus on prevention because there's the idea that they can treat whatever comes along. Granted, there are situations where OBs can provide care that a midwife cannot. I'm not denying that. If a situation like that occurs, a midwife is trained to recognize it quickly so that the mother can either transfer to an OB's care or can be taken to the hospital. Midwifery is not opposed to obstetrics. They can actually work hand-in-hand if need be.

The Midwifery model of care includes preventing challenges (aka "complications"). They have diet guidelines to keep you healthy. They provide tests to check for problems (although these are typically far less invasive and far less often than the tests required with an OB). That way, they can help you come up with a treatment or, if necessary, refer you to an OB if one can better complete your care. That, however, seems to be fairly rare and in those cases, you may be able to continue seeing the midwives for some or all of your prenatal care. Midwives typically have access to standard medical treatments (medications, labs, etc), but many are also extensively informed on more natural alternatives which have been used and proven for centuries. You won't be denied a necessary prescription drug, but she may recommend either an alternative or a natural treatment that compliments the prescription. Although, typically, with midwifery, the final decision is yours.

The Obstetric model of care is that anything can be treated. You will be tested repeatedly during your pregnancy. Although, there is very little preventative medicine. If the problem continues, you may be given a prescription. If it persists, you may be given a number of different prescriptions and most likely more tests. If those don't help, there's bedrest. If that doesn't help, there's always induction. If that fails, there's always a c-section for mom. If it's too soon, well, there's the NICU for the baby.

For those women who truly have a higher risk (and the OB model of care considers many patients to be "High risk" even when a midwife might not consider them so), OBs are fabulous. Please don't think I'm taking issue with women who are truly high risk and who seek an OB's care.

I will leave you once again with this fabulous quotation:

"Midwives see birth as a miracle, and only intervene if there's trouble. Obstetricians see birth as trouble, and if they don't intervene, it's a miracle." Gentle Birth Choices.

Aug 30th edit: I have edited portions of this post as a result of recent on-going discussions/information.

Cut me baby, one more time.

Pardon me while I rant.

Pregnancy is generally NOT a medical event. It is a normal natural state. Giselle featured a fabulous quotation a while back.

"Midwives see birth as a miracle, and only intervene if there's trouble. Obstetricians see birth as trouble, and if they don't intervene, it's a miracle." Gentle Birth Choices.

That's it exactly.

I just don't understand why more people don't consider midwives as their first route when pregnant. Why do we automatically turn to OBs? Obstetrics is a science. It is very useful if a problem develops. Midwifery, however, can PREVENT many of those problems. Studies have shown that planned hombirths with a midwife are safer than hospital births.

"Midwife" literally means "With woman."

I found this definition of "Obstetrics" to be very interesting (italics are mine):

obstetrics
1819, from obstetric (adj.), 1742, from Mod.L. obstetricus "pertaining to a midwife," from obstetrix (gen. obstetricis) "midwife," lit. "one who stands opposite (the woman giving birth)," from obstare "stand opposite to" (see obstacle).

I've been particularly disheartened with all things baby-related lately. I want to change the world. I want to help make this a gentler, safer, easier place to live. That's quite literally my job. I don't do this because I think I'm right. I do it because I've read the research. I have the education. I see the evidence every day. Yet there are those who, for whatever reason, won't ask for help or accept it. I mourn for them, not because they're not doing what I think is right, but because I know they could have a different experience.

I surround myself with like-minded people, so I've been privileged by the fact that many of my friends have used midwives and planned homebirths. Still, I see so many people having OB-attended hospital births that range from sub-par to horribly traumatic and I just have to wonder why. Every single woman that I have known who had planned a hospital birth in the past 6 months has had a c-section. All have been instigated by hospital interventions. Why? Why do we let this continue? Why do we as mothers make the choice to put ourselves and our babies in danger by birthing with an OB in a hospital?

We don't realize the consequences of surgical birth. When a doctor induces a mom at 38 weeks, he doesn't tell her that there's a 50% chance she'll wind up with a c-section. He rarely (if ever) tells her that full-term is 37-42 weeks. I've heard horror stories of doctors threatening mothers if they go to their due date (40 weeks) much less beyond it. I've known mothers whose OBs threatened to abandon them if they didn't agree to an induction no later than their due date.

Mothers often see c-sections as just another choice. Why? Because doctors often portray it as such.

How many OBs truly review the risks of surgical birth beforehand? How many women know that a c-section increases their risk of future stillbirths? How many are told that a primary c-section is more likely to kill that child? How many are told that a c-section makes fertility problems more likely? How many are told of the possibility of future physical ailments for the mom as a result? How many are told that mothers who delver via c-section are more likely to suffer cardiac arrest and hysterectomies (among other complications)? How many women are told that babies born via c-section are less likely to be able to breastfeed and are more likely to have hearing and breathing problems? How many are told that women who have c-sections are more than THREE TIMES more likely to DIE as a direct result? "Unnecessary cesarean delivery constitutes a threat to the future health of mothers and babies who undergo major surgery..." You can read a brief overview of the major risks here. Another list of risks can be found at this Mayo Clinic page.

Why don't we choose midwives from the start? Even aside from c-sections, there are greater risks and greater restrictions when we birth in a hospital setting. Why must so many people have a negative hospital experience before they seek out something different? It doesn't have to be that way. We don't have to force ourselves to suffer. Why won't more women take that stand? In this culture, we're willing to assert our right to flavorful junk food, but we're not willing to insist on a safer setting for ourselves and our babies. Why?

Therapy, updates, babies and prayers

September 17, 2007 edit:
Since people have been finding their way here by googling, "Can Jews have c-sections," I figured I'd clear that up. Yes, we can. No, it is not the ideal. Please note that I am not a rabbi. Please consult your rabbi for specific information regarding halachah.

Childcare showed up late. They got here right around the time we should have been arriving at the doctor's office. Then we found Map Quest's directions were stupid--as usual. So it took longer than it should plus we passed the office and had to turn around. We got there late.

Luckily, the therapist was running late, so she never even noticed our tardiness. Whew.

The appointment went well. She wants to see us individually before she sees us together again. With the kids and dh's work schedule, that's going to prove to be difficult, but we're gonna try to work it out.

In other news, a friend is in labor. All was not going as planned in her homebirth. Last I heard, there was some hope, but it looked like she was going to wind up with a repeat c-section. I cried when I heard that. I wanted so much better for her. She has done everything right. She deserves better.

When I talked to her, I tried to get across that her body may have reasons that we don't understand. I want her to know that a healthy baby is NOT all that matters. Pregnancy and birth matter. She did everything she needed to do during this pregnancy. She cared. She was an active participant. That is important. This time, she went into labor on her own. She got the chance to labor in the birth pool with her older son. That is important. How this child comes into the world is important. She has done everything she could to provide a calm safe entrance for this child. I'm glad hospitals are available for medically indicated c-sections. I just wish hers wasn't one of them. I know that's very much not what she wanted.

I'm wracking my brain to try to find a way to make this easier on her. I can't take away the emotions she's going to feel, but hopefully, I can use my experiences to help her.

I'm still holding on to the last shred of hope that maybe, somehow, she can still have this baby safely at home. Yet at the same time, I'm hoping and praying for the strength and healing she'll need if that doesn't happen.

She's not Jewish, but I am, so I said this prayer for her:

Mi sheberakh avoteinu mekor habrakha l’imoteinu
May the Source of strength
Who blessed the ones before us
Help us find the courage
To make our lives a blessing,
And let us say: Amen.
Mi sheberakh imoteinu mekor habrakha l’avoteinu
Bless those in need of healing With refuah shleima:
The renewal of body,
The renewal of spirit,
And let us say: Amen

Pregnant in America

This is amazing. I cannot wait to see this in its entirety. It really seems to say exactly what I’ve found through my research and experience.

the strangest thing (finding peace)

I had the strangest realizations today.

So, you'll remember that I've been bitching for months about some baby-related things.

Today, a whole host of things happened that should have ticked me off. Not only did they not in the least, but I actually realized I'm grateful for where I am at this point in time.

I went to a homebirth meeting. We discussed what typical homebirths are like and how even with most hospital transfers, the baby's are born vaginally with no drugs. That was very much not my experience.

I keep thinking that should have bothered me, but it didn't. Even when my very favorite midwife mentioned how physical abnormalities that make it impossible for babies to fit through the pelvis are very rare, I didn't get all "Woe is me," about it.

I know things could have gone very differently with my first pregnancy when I saw an OB (long story short, but the OB didn't do her job and I got very sick and had an emergency c-section 2 months too soon as a direct result), but I'm beginning to let that go. I learned from that experience and it has made all the difference. Maya Angelou had it right, "When you know better, you do better." I made a mistake in seeking Obstetric care. I have since learned the difference between the midwifery model of care and Obstetric care. I am blessed to have been fortunate enough to experience midwifery care with my second pregnancy rather than just clinging to what was familiar.

I was shocked to find that I think I have forgiven everything surrounding The Boy's birth. I know now that there is no way my son would have been born vaginally. It wasn't anyone's fault--not mine, not the doctor, not G-d's. No one could have done anything any differently.

At the meeting, a friend asked, "What if you transfer to the hospital and you refuse a c-section." It occured to me, "Wait, I did just that." Granted, I eventually signed the damn consent and had him sliced out of me because I'm one of the rare few cases that really needed one, but I went down fighting. I refused until I had a chance to exhaust my options. I didn't give up. I didn't buckle under pressure. It wasn't a waste because I proved my own strength. I find a lot of strength in that fact.

I find I'm not villifying my second c-section any longer. I still think the rates are WAY too high in the States and all this bull with not allowing VBACs in some states has got to stop, but I'm actually grateful that the procedure exists. We need to cut this shit out when we reach for the scalpel just because the doctor wants to make more money ($2,000 for a vaginal birth vs. $5-10,000 for a c-section), their "Chicken Little mentality" has them insisting there "could" be a danger when it's actually not likely, the hospital staff is tired of waiting for mom to labor on her own, or just because it happens to be a day ending in Y (a nod to Giselle for using one of her catch phrases); but when used effectively (and only when there's a true physical need), c-sections save lives. Twins are typically smaller than singletons, so with better care, there's a chance that I could have birthed my twins vaginally, but there's no chance that The Boy would have been born that way. Without a c-section, I would have died as would my son. I am the rare case (2% vs. the 30-some-odd % currect c-section rate in the U.S.) that truly needed that surgery. Words cannot express how thrilled I am that I had the option.

At the end of the meeting, it occured to me that I was the only woman present who wasn't pregnant. And you know what? That didn't bother me at all.

I'm actually grateful to NOT be pregnant right now. Dh is about to end his military career (well, the active duty part at least). He has only just begun to interview for new jobs. The Boy is still young (I like at least a 3 year age difference between my kids, not counting those that come as a matched set). My body will have a much better chance for a successful VBAC if we wait at least 2 full years after The Boy was born to start trying. There are things I'll need to do/avoid next time around and I'm just not ready to go there yet. I like that I'm giving myself time to adjust first.

This has been my biggest issue for a long time. It has torn my heart out and made me absolutely miserable. So it's very strange to, all of a sudden, find such peace with it. I am imensely thankful for that. I am just in awe of it all.

Um...ah...

Testing. Testing. 1-2-3