Oh, boy... Childbirth

Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time. It is one of the most natural things in the world. I just finished reading a fabulous book - Lady's Hands, Lion's Heart by Carol Leonard - that I was lucky enough to have lent to me by a student. It's written by and about a Midwife and her experiences.

WARNING: The chick writing this has very strong opinions about childbirth. For her OWN kid. The same chick also believes every Mother is entitled to her own opinion, and has the right to decide how her own kids are born.

Now, don't say I didn't warn you!

When I got pregnant with my son, I was a lot of things all at once. Ecstatic, tearful, terrified, excited, shocked... you name it, I probably felt it. All in a 2 minute time span. He was planned - my husband and I tried for 8 months before the pee stick said "pregnant". But, from that moment, I started researching the best way for me to give birth.

I know this lady that has 9 kids. Yes, I said 9. At this point, they range in age from 21 to 3. No twins, all single births. And, for the most part, they were all born at home... 6 at home, 2 in a birthing center, and only 1 in an actual hospital. I had always thought it was fascinating, but now it wildly interested me. So, I started asking questions.

She answered whatever questions I asked, and encouraged me to do my own research. She pointed me in the right directions for some things, and others I found by myself. The more I read about things, the more I thought that, as long as I was having a normal, uneventful pregnancy, I would like to have my baby at home.

This is where some of you will freak out, and think that I'm backwards and not rational, and think, as I recently read, that I am selfish for wanting that. That it's for my comfort, having nothing to do with my unborn baby. This is also where I tell those people that you've got it wrong. And most of you must not be mothers. Because if you were mothers, you would understand that as soon as you become pregnant... as soon as that silly little stick you peed on tells you you are pregnant... it all changes. You, as an individual, have ceased to exist. Your entire existence is given over to this little life that you can't even feel, yet. You are in love like you've never been before. So, I tell you that anything I do - what I eat, how much I sleep - is all for the baby. My comfort is comforting to the baby. My stress stresses out the baby. All that is scientific fact. So... if Mommy is stressed out in a hospital for a birth, so is the baby, and that's a problem. The calmer Mom is for her labor, the smoother it progresses. On the flip side, of course, if a Mom is more comfortable in the perceived safety of a hospital, then that's where she should be.

I, however, have never had an overwhelming urge to camp out in a sterile, non-homey hospital. I am totally a home body - my house is my sanctuary from the craziness of life, and here is where I am most comfortable. As I got more and more pregnant (good GOD, I was big...), I really wanted to avoid a hospital. But I did have a major obstacle. My husband.

Tim was not nearly as enthusiastic about a home birth as I was, no matter how much our friend raved about the "rightness" of it. He's a little conservative, and I think, like a lot if first time Dads, he was concerned about me and my health and my ability to do this major thing that I've never done before. He didn't get why I was so sure it would all be fine. "You can't know that," he would tell me. But, as I didn't want a basket case of a husband around while I was giving birth, we agreed on a birthing center, as opposed to a hospital. A nice compromise, I thought. I still get to have a midwife and a "free-wheeling" birth, he gets the comfort of a decked-out-with-modern-equipment-to-handle-an-emergency facility.

Of course, right when we started looking for midwives and birthing centers, the closest one (which was already 45 minutes away) was getting ready to shut its doors. So heartbreaking, because birthing centers give such a valuable service, and they are so under appreciated. And now, they are falling under fire from our sue-happy society. Everything these days is someones fault. And someone else's fault, at that. OB-GYN's and family practices are having almost as severe problems with insurance. My family doctor at the time had stopped delivering babies because she couldn't afford the malpractice insurance for it, and she was very sad, because she thought delivering babies was one of the most joyous things she got to do.

So, my only options were in Alexandria, VA (the midwife practice my friend used, actually) and Annapolis, MD. Both of which were well over an hour from us, on a good day, with no traffic. And in the Washington, DC Metropolitan area, no traffic is unheard of, I don't care what time it is. And, God forbid I go into labor during rush hour. I'd wind up having the baby in my car! Cute story later, maybe, but not the most desirable location.

So, turns out, there were no midwives and no birthing centers available to me. I was really pissed. I wanted to move. Well, maybe not. But, my ever-reliable husband talked me down off a cliff, and we wound up choosing a hospital with a brand new birthing wing that was about 1/2 an hour away.

We used The Bradley Method of child birth, which absolutely rocks. I can't say enough amazing things about it. People train for all sorts of things... marathons, tournaments, triathlons, competitions of all kinds. But I'm not sure that enough women really train to do the Labor Marathon. Lamaze, in my opinion, teaches you how to handle a hospital birth; i.e., how to hold out until you can get the epidural. NO WAY was I putting drugs of any sort in my system if I could avoid it. There is no way that you can tell me that although my kid will react to spicy or ethnic food that I eat right away, he won't be affected by drugs. Right. I don't think so. Studies have shown that babies born from births with epidurals are slower to nurse and aren't as alert in the first few hours. Of course they're not. They've been drugged, they're all peace and love, man! Hey, being born is hard enough, I think, without having to be stoned to boot.

So, The Bradley Method was 12 weeks of a 2.5 hour class once a week. We practiced. We breathed, meditated, and had our husbands try all sorts of relaxation techniques on us. You never know what will or wouldn't work. We practiced different positions to shift to in order to keep us as comfortable as possible, and the labor moving along. We role played. It was fabulous, and our instructor was an absolute gem. I felt incredibly prepared for my kiddo to arrive.

I was also incredibly glad to have a different perspective on birth form our Bradley instructor, Judy. All I kept hearing from my doctors was, "This is your first baby. Labor will take a while. 20 or so hours, probably." 20 hours?? Holy crap. Look, I know there are a lot of women who have labored for days. A friend of mine came in at 32 hours. But, not having done it before, and having the entire universe of mothers, it seemed like, telling me how much it hurt... well, 20 hours was definitely intimidating, even for not-very-easily-intimidated me. They also told me things like, "Oh, well the due date is give or take 2 weeks, but you're a first time Mom, so, most likely, yours will be give." Everyone was telling me my baby would be late, because I'm a first time Mom. I even found out that one of the doctors in the practice I wound up going to believed that first time Moms were incapable of delivering without an epidural. !!! Judy, however, said, "Don't listen to everyone. Your body and your baby will do what they're supposed to do. Could you have a 20 hour labor? Sure. But you'll be ready for it. Trained. Could the baby be late? Sure. Maybe he just needs a little more time to get ready. But maybe... he'll be right in time, or early, ready to take on the world. Maybe... your labor will be quick, just a few hours. Happens all time, really." Now, that sounded much more reasonable to me. So, I chilled out. I stopped listening to the endless amount of people who wanted to give me advice. And, trust me, Mom's come out of the woodwork to give you advice when you're pregnant!

I had a very uneventful - boring - pregnancy. No glitches at all. At 5am on September 3rd, 2004 - Labor Day weekend, of all times - my water broke. I woke up from my uncomfortable slumber thinking I had to pee. But, no. It was my son getting ready to come out.

Now, we figure I slept through the early part of Labor. The doctor said to call right away if my water broke, but there is really no danger in waiting a few hours to go to the hospital. So, I waited for contractions to start. I did, however, call my Mom in Miami - this was 2 weeks early. (Mental finger to the doctor.) And, of course, it was hurricane season, and yes, there was a hurricane headed to Miami. So, I thought that if my Mom still wanted to be with me, she'd better hop to. And off to the airport she went.

Next, I called my best friend (who's daughter is my gorgeous, highly intelligent, almost now 3-year-old Goddaughter) who was going to be in the birthing room with us. She asked me if I had called the doctor, yet. And yelled at me when I told her no. Buy this time, I was starting to feel some very mild contractions.... every 3-ish minutes. Oh, and the other criteria for calling the doctor? When the contractions are 5 minutes apart. Oops. Not my fault my kid skipped that part. At this point, it was about 5:15/5:20, so not much time had passed. Tim called the doc and told her the situation. She, of course, just like the movies, asked him how far apart the contractions were. And, just like the movies, he didn't know. :-) When I relayed "Ohhhh.... about 3 minutes or so" she scolded him for not calling earlier. He said that none of this was happening earlier, that my contractions started out this close. To which she told him to get my butt to the hospital.

I hated leaving home. I didn't want to get in the car - I was very uncomfortable by this time, and the contractions were really starting to hurt. In the half hour drive, I think I jumped right through the first 2 stages of Labor. I took my seat belt off half way there, much to my husband's chagrin, because I just couldn't have it touching my belly, anymore. When we got there, we had to go in through the ER entrance, because it was too early for the lobby to be open. The ditz at the counter didn't get that I was in labor. I don't know why. I was as big as a house, had to put my head on the counter three times while we were checking in to deal with a contraction, and I shot daggers at him with my eyes. But, he didn't seem to think I needed a wheelchair. I guess he thought I should walk the 400 miles to Labor & Delivery. Yeah, that was fun. I had to stop my waddling every 10 feet to have a contraction, because they were coming every 1.5-2 minutes, now.

When we finally made it to our room - which was as nice as a hospital can make it - the nurse came to check on me. The doctors, see, don't make an appearance until the baby is ready to pop out. They come in, they catch, they say "good job" and they go. As long as there are no complications, of course. So, if you want to see more of your doctor during labor, have complications. It's the nurses that help you through. Our first nurse, I would have had to kill if she had stayed. She came in, told me the doc wanted me to walk around to help move the labor along, and to "hang in there. This is your first baby. It's gonna be a while." Great. Another one. Well, pppfffllltttt!

She checked my dilation, and had the decency, at least, to look impressed when I was 3 centimeters. A couple of hours and my senses of humor and modesty later, I was at 5. By noon, I had only a tiny lip of my cervix left to open, and I was told to start pushing. At 1:04pm, a mere eight hours after my water broke, Connor Patrick was born. (Another mental finger to the doctor.)

I don't mean to gloss over my labor. It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, easy. It was seriously hard work. I was tired, in pain, and wanted it to stop. Not once did I ask for drugs (this would be the final finger, as the doctor that delivered my son was the one who thought first time Mom's couldn't labor drug-free. HA!). I did, however, ask the nurse a few times how much longer it was going to take. She always deflected my question. Insert "B" word here. But, honestly, even though it was hard, it just was not a big deal. My friend with the 9 kids? She was there. What better coach than someone who's done it personally nine times? She said, and I quote, "That was a perfect Bradley birth." I was flattered. Would I change anything about it? Yeah, I'd have my kid at home. I was SO out of that hospital as soon as I could get through the bureaucracy. They didn't understand why I wanted to keep my son with me for as long as possible before we were separated (there is a window of opportunity, apparently, to administer the ointment to their eyes). They didn't understand why I didn't want him to be taken to the On Demand nursery (where the babies stay until ready to nurse) at all. They didn't understand why I didn't want to stay for 3 days ("You know your insurance pays for a 3 day hospital stay, don't you?"), that I just wanted to go home. It took me until the next day, but we were outta there.

Please don't get me wrong... the hospital staff (except for the first nurse!) was amazing. I loved, loved, LOVED the nurse we wound up with, Jackie. All in all, it would be considered a very positive experience. I just didn't like the environment. It wasn't home.

Had I had a complicated pregnancy, or my labor proved to be difficult, I would not have hesitated for a single second to go to a hospital. If I had been home, one concerned look from a midwife is all it would have taken to get my butt in the car. I'm not stupid. But I was upset that because uninformed people in this world chose to make life difficult for midwives and home births, that my decision in the matter was made for me. My husband promised me that if the first birth went smoothly, we can go for a home birth for the 2nd one. IF, that is, there are still midwives that are allowed to attend home births. And that, unfortunately, is looking less and less likely.

Do tragedies happen? Yes. Do babies and mothers die in childbirth? Yes. Is it the norm? Not by any means. When was the last time you heard about a baby dieing in a hospital on the national or world news? I don't think I ever have, unless it was a celebrity's baby. And, yet, go Google "midwife" and "home birth", and one of the first links that pops is about a midwife in England who transferred a birth to a hospital, and the baby died. And, of course, the media and the comments are blaming the midwife. Could it be her fault? Absolutely. Could the baby have perished had the entire birthing process been done in the hospital? YES. We'll never know. That's sad, absolutely tragic and life-changing for the parents, and true.

The point of this blog? Butt out. Support people's right to make their own decisions, no matter how dumb you think they might be. Do your research, don't just believe everything that you are told. Everything you read is NOT necessarily true. And, for God's sake, if there is a practice in this world you don't believe in... don't practice it. But don't make it so that other people can't do it, too. Christian Scientist women that are giving birth, to my understanding, are not allowed to make any noise. At all. Not a peep. Now, I don't agree with that - I don't know how they do it - but they have a right to try! That's why we live in America, people... we're supposed to have freedom of choice. Oh, and I have some strong political opinions, too, but we won't get into those today. :-D

If there is anyone reading this that is preggo... I encourage you to do your research. I would obviously encourage you to go drug free - it really is best for the baby. Home birth? Well, that's not something I would push people to do, because Mom has to be comfortable and confident, and only you know where you'll get the best of both. But if you see or hear of a Midwife... tell her (or him) they are wonderful for allowing such a life altering experience to be so wondeful for the Mom's and babies that choose them.

And if there are any Midwives that stumble upon my blog... God bless you for what you do. And thank you so very much for not allowing the techie world to relegate you to history.

Photography

I love, love, love taking pictures. In another life, I would absolutely be a photographer. I got a Canon Digital Rebel XTi (a digital SLR - single reflex lens) just before Christmas last year, and have been using the heck out of it. I have taken some pretty good shots, if I do say so myself. But in the past few months, I've started to get into the art after the art - Photoshop! Now, I have an old version, but I'm really figuring out how to correctly contrast, sharpen, brighten, etc. What I can't do, yet (my version isn't really good enough... or I don't have the necessary patience, one or the other!) is what a friend did for me. Check it out, and take in the wonders of Photoshopping!

Cruising

For those of you that don't know, when I was a kid, I lived on a boat for a few years. It was absolutely amazing, and I highly recommend it to anyone who has evert thought about getting away from it all. My Mom has an awesome cruising website, and I even wrote something for it. Go check it out!

The Cruisers Life

Counting My Blessings

You know, there are so many people in this country that are having a hard time of it these days. Every time I venture out, I see a new sign somewhere... "For Lease", "For Sale", "Going out of Business"... It's pretty sad, actually. A lot of my students have been laid off in the past year or so. In times like this, it's so hard to remember the good, happy stuff. And there is plenty of good, happy stuff, or "candy canes and puppy dogs", as my wonderful husband likes to say. We have so many blessings in our lives, and yet, they can be so easily taken for granted or overlooked.

Remember the movie "Pretty Woman"? Great movie. There was a line Julia Roberts delivered to Richard Gere when he asked her why she didn't think she was all that. She said something like, "Didn't you ever notice? The bad stuff is easier to believe." It's so unfortunately true. Why is that? Meh... I don't know. But I thought I'd take a minute to count the blessings in my life, because I'm not sure I've done enough of it, lately.

Starting a list is always hard. When I used to ask my brother silly questions when I was a kid ("What did I do??") he would answer, "Would you like the list alphabetically or in order of importance?" I have the time nor the energy to categorize, so I'll go in no particular order. So there. :-)

My family. Wow... I don't know what I would do with out them. I have the most wonderful family on the planet, and when I say that, I am absolutely including the immediate, extended and in-law parts of it. I mean, we have our issues, of course, but who doesn't? But, for the most part, I could call any of my family members if I was in a jam, and they would do their best to help me out if they could. I have 3 Aunts on my Dad's side - I call them the 3 Musketeers - that would walk through Hell to help out their family. They rock! And the rest of my Aunts and Uncles are no different. One set of Aunt and Uncle (my Mom's brother and his wife) let me live with them for a while when I needed a roof over my head. And all my life I wanted a sister - not a stinky, cootie-filled brother. And I finally got one when I met my husband. And let's not even talk about how awesome my Mom is. Without her, I'd surely be way in the ditch. Love you, Mom! So, yeah... my family is an amazing blessing.

My husband. I put him separately from my family because I think he deserves his own category. In my opinion, I have the most wonderful man in the world. I know, I know - I'm supposed to think that! But, it's so true. He works his tail off everyday to make mine and Connor's life better. He treats me like a queen, even when I don't necessarily deserve it (yes, I get cranky, too). He would go to the ends of the earth and back for us, and for him, I thank God every day.

My son. Children are such a miracle. When I think about the actual scientific process of conceiving and carrying a healthy baby to term, the odds are nuts. Chances are, you won't. And, yet we, women, do - all the time. Even though I want to kill him sometimes, every night when I sneak into his room to give him one last kiss and tuck the covers around him... I am amazed and thankful for my own, personal little blessing.

My Martial Arts. It's been almost 20 years now, that I went out to swing some sticks around in a crazy-lookin' guys backyard. Turns out he wasn't so crazy. And he started the ball rolling. The fulfilment I've been able to gain from my training is indescribable. Martial Arts feeds your body, mind and spirit. Whenever I need to let it all out, I work out, and come out feeling better. It's... cathartic, really, in a lot of ways. And if I didn't have such a great outlet, life's frustrations would have had me years ago. Another amazing blessing.

My students. I have learned so much over the years from my students. I've taught thousands, at this point... The youngest official student (not counting Connor!) was 3. The oldest? 72. Most, though, range from 4 - 40something. Kids, families, adults... I've had 'em all. And every one of them has given me something. Joy, satisfaction, excitement... And I've loved every minute of it. There aren't many things as satisfying in my life as helping people turn into better people, into what they want to be... into Black Belts. Thank God, again, for all those blessings.

There's more, of course. My house, my car, food on my table every day, the things I have that some people don't. But I think I mentioned the biggies. And, man... I really am blessed. And, now, you think about it. Because so are you.

Things that make you go "Hhmmm..."

I have to say that I'd never really thought about this whole blog thing before today. And the inspiration came from this chick I met in High School - one I'm still privileged enough to call a friend. Suzy Newhouse. She has a rockin' blog, way better than mine will be, I'm sure. You should check it out.

http://thepersueofhappiness.blogspot.com/

So, the story that inspired me...

In the neverending quest to create a bigger and badder Martial Arts school, my husband does many, many, many public events. Inside, outside, in schools, in gyms - you name it, he'll do it. So today was a community picnic for a daycare that will be opening in our area soon. Now, I would ask you to keep in mind that it's a daycare... as in, a place that you send your kids, if you must, to keep them safe and you sane.

There were supposed to be all sorts of fun activities there - facepainting, moonbounce, games, Tea Kwon Do (our favorite!), so Tim thought it would be nice for me to bring Connor over. We were the very first ones in the moonbounce, which thrilled Connor to death. After a couple of minutes, 2 pre-teen girls came on in.

Aside: Call me anal, but I always read the rules on these things. Comes from being "in charge" for so many years. There were no adults there to keep an eye out for the little ones, so therefore my natural Instructor/Mommy dictator kicked in. The rules on the bounce house said "NO flipping".

After a couple of minutes, one of the girls did a front handspring. :::sigh:::

"Ladies, you're not allowed to flip in the moonbounce." Now, seriously.... DO I actually have two heads?? Because the looks I got - that only teen aged girls can deliver correctly - certainly suggested I did! But, they did stop. And chatted very quietly for a bit, glancing at me surreptitiously.

Another aside: Last year, at the playground by our house, I got the urge to be in charge, again, when I told an 8-ish year old girl that the tube slide wasn't for climbing on top of, it was for getting into, and to please get off. She proceeded to have a conversation with a friend of hers, where they decided that I thought I was "In charge of the world." Hmmm... I'll take it.

Clearly, these two also believed that I thought running the world was my rightful place. Again... I'm ok with that. =) So, out of the moonbounce they go, while other little kids flood in. A few minutes later, they show up with the flippers Mommy. I said hello to her, and she nodded, but had a look. So, I immediately knew I had been tattled on, and Mommy was here to set me straight. As if.

And, sure enough, with six other little kids in the rather small bounce house, now, the flipper does a front tuck. A front tuck. Now, I'm all for gymnastics, but not when it's inappropriate, not when it's against the clearly stated rules, and not when MY kid could get hurt because of it. So, here we go... :::sigh:::

"Ma'am, you're not allowed to flip in the moonbounce."

"Excuse me." Guess who? You got it... Mommy. "That's my daughter, and if I say she can flip, then she can flip."

"Ma'am... it's dangerous and it says right here that it's not allowed." You know... there is something immensely comforting in knowing that you can totally kick someones boo-tay, should the need arise. It lends to a great deal of inner peace in these situations.

"This is for people who are paying to be here, and I payed for this, I'm in charge, and if I say she can flip, she can flip." Please feel free to imagine the "Walk Like an Egyptian" side to side head move here, 'cause she was doin' it. Along with some hand flair. But not the finger. Although I'm sure she was mentally giving it to me.

"Connor! Out, let's go." :::sigh::: This is about where the urge to punch this woman comes in, because when my cute, happy, rule-following son realizes that he won't be going back into the moonbounce because his Mommy has deemed it unsafe... he starts to bawl.

"But WHY, Mommy?"

"Because you can't be in there while people are breaking the rules. You might get hurt, baby."

"Then why is she flipping? That's not fair! Is SHE", he points to the flippers Mom, "her Mommy?"

"Yes, honey."

"Then how come she won't tell her to stop? Why is she letting her break the rules?" Ahh... from the mouths of babes.

So, now, this chick has put kids in very real danger (I had a student once who had his femur broken by a kid doing a flip onto him - by accident, of course), made my kid cry, very effectively alienated a potential client, and has started to anger a 4th Degree Black Belt. Stoopid, stoopid, stoopid. And beyond that, she has now taught her daughter that rules are there to be followed... unless you don't feel like it. But, of course, I'm sure her daughter already knew that.

There were a few more words exchanged, but none of them important, really. My blood pressure went up, but at least I didn't lay her out. I did, however, seriously consider getting her riled up to the point that she would get in my face. Because I soooo could have. But, as a tribute to my training, I didn't even do that. Thought about it, yes... do it, no. Aren't you proud?

Back to the start of the story... this event was for a new daycare, trying to drum up business. And the Mom in question? An actual STAFF MEMBER of the new daycare. Horrifying. Absolutely horrifying. Not only could the not-even-open-yet center be sued if a kid got hurt (we are a legal happy society these days), but the owner of the new daycare is a Grandma, and she seems perfectly lovely. And she would be the one that would have to pay for the Mom's irresponsible behavior. And if that is how this center is going to be run... Lord help the kiddos that are enrolled in it.

I have had my son in daycare, and as a Mom, it is absolutely gut wrenching to drop off your precious little ones for someone else to look after. You hope and pray that they will be well taken care of and loved while they are there. No one that has to put there kids in any type of daycare needs to worry that there are idiots like this woman "in charge", too. I thank God everyday that I have been lucky enough to have wonderful people in our lives that have looked after my son as their own when I couldn't be with him. And, if your kids are in daycare, I pray that you get the same type of blessings we have had.

Well... I feel a lot better. I guess that'll do it for my first one. Thanks for the inspiration, Suz!!