Meekness in the Powerful Mother-

"A Church leader once toured a facility that housed a huge hydraulic crushing machine that could reduce old cars into small cubes. For a demonstration, the guide asked the man to remove his watch. The operator then placed it in the machine and adjusted the controls, and the top blade came crashing down, stopping just a millimeter above the watch. Next the sides slammed together, but once again they stopped just shy of the crystal. Then the operator removed the watch and returned it unscratched.

Much pleased with the demonstration, this good man turned to those with him and said, “We have just witnessed the greatest demonstration of meekness I have ever seen. Meekness is great power under complete control.”

(The Beatitudes—Pathway to the Savior, By S. Michael Wilcox)

So often the role of the mother is disregarded or passed on to another. It is the same with many of the traits that make a good mother.

Women are rarely valued for being kind, meek, humble, nurturing, modest and loving. Women, especially in the world, are valued when they embrace more stereotypical male traits, like anger, aggression and leadership.

Look around you. What are women doing who get attention on television? They are making music videos in which they show their bodies as objects, not powerful objects that birth and feed children, no, their bodies are powerful because of their ability to make men look at them.

Women are on the news because they lack control of themselves. Instead they "party hard" and get sent to rehab. Women are not on the news because they spend every day making sure that their home is running smoothly, loving their children, and sacrificing their own immediate needs to nurture others.

Women are famous because they run companies and states. They compete with men in male professions and they win. I don't think there is anything wrong with this, but I don't think it is the only way to be valued as a woman.

Sometimes I forget to live these virtues in my own home. I find myself seeking to control those around me. Instead of leading with example, I yell, control, and humiliate. I am forgetting the great power inherent in humility, love, nurturing, and meekness.

We see it often in online forums. Motherhood can be an isolating profession in America, and so things like Facebook have an amazing ability to give stay at home mothers social contact and support that they might not otherwise get. Despite this it is not uncommon to see women attacking each other because they do things differently. We are already less respected and less valued in our society, and yet we perpetuate this among ourselves by attacking one another.

The phrase and poem, "The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world" is not just a silly idea. It is true. The problem lies when we as WOMEN do not even acknowledge or demand RESPECT for our great power. We can make a difference in the lives of not just our children, but in the lives of all those around us and in the world. To do this we must stand strong together, and value the traits and virtues that come naturally to us-

Meekness, kindness, love, nurturing, modesty- these are all things that can make a mother and a woman a blessing, and a pillar of strength in her world. We must value ourselves before we will be valued by others.

Nikolaos' Birth Story- An Orgasmic Freebirth

Welcome to birth story Wednesday! This birth is a little different than some of the others I have published. My jaw actually dropped when I read it! It is a beautiful birth that really details the sensual side of birth that you don't hear about very often. Thanks mama for sharing!

Enjoy!

It was Monday and I was 41 weeks and 1 day. The night before had been a pretty miserable one for me. I'd been up every hour, crampy and uncomfortable. I woke up in a bad mood, but got over it shortly after breakfast.

Colin was home now from work. His boss was sick of waiting for me to have the baby, so his time off was this whole week until his surgery the following week. Our initial cutoff for the baby to be born was the 8th. If baby came after the 8th, he would reschedule his surgery for later so that I'd have enough time to recover before he was in need of his own healing down time. We weren't really thinking about that anymore, though, and were just waiting for the baby to come whenever it was ready.

We hadn't had sex in a few days (odd for us, since we'd been having it rather regularly to try and make labor start, or to make annoying contractions end, and because we never knew exactly when it would be our last time). Our plan for the day was to go at each other while the kids napped.

After breakfast I started to have contractions, nothing stronger or more intense than I'd had before, but a few hours later as I was getting a snack together for the kids, I had another little feeling of "could this be it?" but I'd said that to myself so many times already that I didn't believe it. I figured I'd let some time go by, and do the usual to determine if it was labor. Drink water, eat something, take a shower, have sex ... that combo always managed to end the contractions thus far.

I snacked the kids and then it was naptime for them. We got all the kiddos down and I hopped in the shower. The contractions didn't stop. They hadn't really gotten stronger, and they weren't close together (in my mind), maybe 15 minutes apart. We laid down to cuddle and made an attempt at sex. We'd always just worked right through the contractions in the past and I was able to relax and have an orgasm anyway, and they'd stop somewhere along the way. This time they were so strong I really didn't think I'd be able to make it, but Lord knows that wouldn't stop us from trying.

Colin had his fingers on my g-spot through one contraction, and it was the most amazing feeling ... the strength of the peak of the contraction, the pulling and stretching sensation on my cervix, and the pleasure that he was giving me, all combined to give me a dulled orgasm that caught me off guard.

We would have gone further but Leo decided that was his time to begin stirring and wake up from his nap. At this point I think we both knew this really could be it, I could be in the beginning of labor, and we promised to try and have sex later if possible ... and if we couldn't, it wasn't the end of the world. We'd had great sex a few days prior and if that had to hold us off for the next few months, so be it.

We already knew I was at six centimeters and had been for a week. I was under the impression that things would move rather quickly, that my water would all of a sudden break, and within a few hours I'd have a baby. To have contractions for an entire day wasn't really what I was expecting.

Up from naps, we made the kids lunch and after that the contractions began to get strong enough that I was slowing down through them and focusing a bit. I could still talk and walk (it actually felt good to walk during them). By 5:30 Colin was making dinner (lasagna) and I was milling about, keeping an eye on the kids.

I wanted to hang out with him in the kitchen, so I got on my exercise ball and rocked while I grated cheese and fed nibbles of it to Vik and Leo. We played the timing game from 6:00 to 7:00, and the contractions were about 8 minutes apart. At 7:00 the lasagna was done, and we all ate. Colin was great through dinner with the kids, shushing them every time he saw me starting to contract, so I could have quiet when I needed it.

I didn't have a huge appetite, and I was almost certain I was in labor, so I didn't want to gorge on food. After dinner Colin put 3 huge pots of water on to boil for filling the tub / reheating the bath water since I knew I would want a warm bath for a while to relax me. He put a fourth pot on to boil for the kitchen scissors, to sterilize them for cutting the cord. I was texting back and forth with Drew about the contractions and how I was feeling as I was discussing with Colin what our plan was for the kids.

We decided that we would have Drew take Leo overnight, and put the other three to bed soon after Leo left, and that we wouldn't need to call my mom to come watch anyone since they'd all be fine. At the pace I was going with the contractions, the baby would come overnight and the kids would all wake up to a new sibling in the morning. It couldn't have worked out better if we'd planned it. Drew came around 8:00 for Leo, who happily went with Dada for the night.

By then I felt best leaning over and breathing deeply through the contractions. With Leo gone, Colin got Cy, Charlie, and Vik up to bed while I went to the bathroom to pee. I noticed a little blob of bloody mucous on the tissue when I wiped, and when I stood up I looked in the toilet - there was a bit more in there, too. My dad called and I talked to him for a few minutes. I had to stop at one point to breathe through a contraction. I told him I was in labor and he said good luck and to call him since he was at work that night once the baby came. I got off the phone and realized then that I was ready for a bath.

Colin came down from putting the kids to bed and we decided that I should turn on the water to start filling the tub, and he would add hot water from the stove as needed. I emptied the hot water tank and then climbed in the tub. It felt delightful. I was so calm and relaxed from the heat and the feeling of the water around me. The contractions were about 6-7 minutes apart but they were much more pleasurable because of how relaxed I was. I was able to just lean back, and moan through the peaks, and feel the stretching of my cervix as it opened up for the baby's head. I could feel the baby coming down slowly and it felt great to be widened up like that inside.

It was 8:45 when I got into the bathtub. Once the tub was full Colin got in, to see if that would be helpful for me, but we just didn't fit right. He brought in a towel for me to lean against and he alternated between sitting next to the tub so I could hold his hand, and pouring water on my chest, back, and belly. I was still pretty chatty at this point, talking about stupid little stuff.

Around 9:30 I felt the sensation of my water breaking and told Colin. At one point Drew texted to see how I was, and Colin replied how far apart the contractions were, and "no baby yet". I got out of the tub to pee and realized I was going to have a bowel movement ... so I asked Colin to leave me be for a few minutes. I was so ready to get back in the tub after moaning through those contractions out of the water!

We brought the old alarm clock into the bathroom to start timing (so we didn't have to look at the microwave clock) at 10:00 and they soon got to be 3 minutes apart. For a short period of time I was asking Colin for reassurance, saying "Can I do this?" and he shot back perfect answers, telling me I was strong, and beautiful, and handling everything so well. I suddenly didn't feel the need to moan anymore during the peaks, and got completely quiet, and just focused on the sensations inside of me. How open I felt, and how wide I could feel my cervix stretching with each contraction. I was feeling very capable, and excited, and ready to hold my baby in my arms.

At 10:50 I was out of the tub and the contractions were 2 minutes apart the last time we checked while we were in the bathroom. I sat on the toilet to see if I had to pee or poop, but I didn't have to do either. I looked to the left at the clock and it said 10:52. I had been in the tub for 2 hours. I peed and made my way to the bed, thinking I would lay on my side and relax for a while, but I never made it down.

It was almost pitch dark in the bedroom, with the only light being the nightlight on the baby monitor. I stayed on my hands and knees and rocked through the contractions. They were so strong, and it felt so good to ride on top of them and just experience my uterus doing what it had to do. I was vocalizing loudly.

Colin got me the heating pad for my back and held it in place as I rocked. He suggested that I use the pillows if I wanted to lean on, and I did pile up 3 of them to lean over. I was moaning through each contraction, and I didn't feel pushy at all. My moans slowly morphed into growls, and I realized then that I although I didn't really feel pushy, I sounded pushy, but I was still just going with my body and doing what felt best.

My growls all of a sudden became soft roaring noises, and the roars only got louder. Now, as I rocked back and forth, roaring wildly through my contractions, I asked Colin to get the heating pad off and just apply pressure with his hands to my lower back. I felt myself pushing and it felt great. These contractions were very strong, and I was amazed at how loud I was, and how I was acting. But it all felt perfect.

I was talking in between the contractions, to myself and God and the baby. "Come baby, come down, down and out ... come to Momma and Colin ... it feels so good ... Mommy is going to birth you tonight ... I'm going to bring you in the world, little baby ... I can do this, I know I can ... oh, yeah, yeah." As the contractions peaked I was roaring deeply and loudly, gripping the top of the bed or bracing my hands on the wall, pushing and feeling so strong, and so powerful, and on top of the world.

I was birthing my baby, with the man I love, we were doing it. Very soon I knew I would bring this baby into the world and give it a name. I reached my hand down to feel myself in between the contractions, and I could feel stringy mucous hanging out of me. I touched my clit to see what kind of sensations I had, and it felt awesome. I was off roaring into the next contraction then. I felt the fullness inside as the baby came down inside of me, and then I knew it was almost there, almost at the bottom of my vagina, the head so close and ready to come out. A few times I asked Colin if he could see anything, but it was too dark for him to discern anything at all.

I was ready to do this for hours if I had do. It was tiring but it was not impossible, and it was hard work and it was taking over my whole body but it felt so perfectly instinctual to let go and just be, just feel, and let my body and mind and soul focus on birthing. There were no distractions. There was no pain, just good, strong, intense stretching.

I felt the burning as the head began to come out of me, and I told Colin to get ready to catch the baby. He put his hand to my vagina to hold it to the head. I paused once I had pushed out the head, to feel how full I was with my baby in my vagina, and how stretched out I was with the baby's head out of me. I knew I was just one good roaring push away from meeting this little one.

I went into the next contraction with all of my energy, and pushed with everything inside of me. I felt everything. I felt shoulders and hips and feet all slide down inside of me and pop out in one long push, with a rush of fluid behind it. Colin's hands were right there to catch the baby as it slid out of me. I heard my baby cry, and Colin announced "It's a boy!". I felt the cord inside of me, all the way up inside, and still attached to my sweet baby on the outside, as I flipped over to sit at the top of the bed while Colin moved up with the baby and laid him on my chest. I laughed with pure joy as I held my baby boy, my son, in my arms and heard him cry and felt him wriggle and breathe and be alive.

He was a bit gurgly, so I asked Colin to suck the mucous out of him, which he did with his mouth. He put it right over the baby's nose and mouth and sucked and spit twice without hesitation. The baby was warm and wet and slippery and had a thick head of hair that I could see even in the dark. I felt his tiny little body and was so happy, so exuberant, that I had done it.

I had birthed my baby, we had birthed this baby, by ourselves, at home, and it was the most perfect experience. I couldn't have prayed for anything better. I had prayed for strength, and for peace, and I got it. God let me let go, and get out of my own head, so my body could take over and do what He designed it to do.

Within an hour the placenta was out and shortly thereafter Colin whipped a third of it up into a smoothie which I drank quickly. It was delicious. We took a few pictures, made a few phone calls, and after cleaning up the bed and taking a shower laid down for a few hours of sleep with our new little boy, Nikolaos. His exact time of birth was 11:43 pm. Born unassisted, into Colin's hands, and into our loving family.

A C-Section is a Terrible Thing to Waste

ACOG's recent change of heart about C-section and VBAC has prompted excitement and debate. You can read about it here.

We should be excited about this change- but we should also be aware of some of the big obstacles to lowering the c-section rate. Here are just a few of them.
-C-sections are necessary (some of the time)-
This seems obvious, but because, like many other interventions surrounding birth, they are sometimes needed, it is hard to get rid of them. It can be hard to tell if somebody REALLY needed a c-section or if the doc just jumped the gun. We can not nor should we get rid of the c-section all together. But we also need to be wary of the doctor who talks all the time about how often they are necessary.

-C-sections are so incredibly convenient (for the doctor and the hospital)-
Can you imagine a job where you get called at any time of day or night (probably most likely at night) and on any holiday so you can show up and watch somebody for HOURS labor just in case they need you? Then, when the baby finally does come there is a huge mess.

I love that so many people are willing to do this for a living. I don't think it is an easy lifestyle. I wish people would just stay the heck out of obstetrics if they were not willing to live this way. But the truth is, most OB's no longer practice this way.

And the very sad truth (and one that is driving c-sections and induced managed labors) is that scheduling birth makes more money. Lots more money.

This article is worth the read and has some great info. Here is a quote from it:
"Childbirth has the potential for being made more predictable by manipulating labor (induction, active management of labor) or by scheduling cesarean sections. From 1989-1997 births have become more frequent on weekdays compared to weekends, and "Births delivered by repeat cesarean and vaginal births that were induced are especially likely to occur on weekdays."" (From H. Goer and S Hodges)
-C-sections are very expensive- and insurance companies pay for them-

C-sections cost much much more than a vaginal birth, and considerably more than a home birth.
Consider this table from the same article posted above:

Fees:

Home Birth	$2,300 - $5,000
Birth Center	$3,500 - $8,300
Hospital	$4,300 - $16,000
Cesarean Section *	$9,300 - $26,000

I think that pretty much says it all folks.
-C-sections equal sicker babies with longer hospital stays-

This might sound like a bad thing for the mom and baby, but it is most definitely a GREAT thing for the hospital. Not only do they make gobs more money, they also get your undying gratitude for saving their baby.

Again, from the above quoted article by Henci Goer and Susan Hodges:

"Admitting babies to Neonatal Intensive Care Units (NICUs) is a money-maker, especially if the babies are not very sick. A Ross planning associate said: "We can do a better job of budgeting our staff with these longer stays and increased numbers of patients. ... And we're doing procedures – highly technical procedures that cost a lot and can generate higher revenue based on the same occupancy." (Shearer MH. The economics of intensive care for the full-term newborn. Birth 1980;7(4): 1980. p 235"

-Follow the money and you will find your enemy-

I have been accused of encouraging fear or being bitter and angry about the subject of birth in this country. Honestly, I could not make this stuff up!!! It disgusts me that women and babies are being literally SLICED OPEN and poked and prodded and taken from their mothers for MONEY. But that is exactly what is happening.

I am glad that somebody (the National Institute of Health) finally called on ACOG to do something about the outrageous C-section rate in this country. I am glad that ACOG actually changed their policy. But I do not believe that they have any real motivation to change their ACTIONS despite the fact that they are damaging women and children FOR PROFIT. Yes, they are hurting and endangering women and babies to make more money. This is obvious.

I wish I could tell women to trust their care providers when they say they are for natural birth. I wish I could tell them that their hospital really will support them in doing this. But the sad truth is that I would be giving them false hope. You need to fight for this. You need to be educated and you need to be strong. It will only happen because of you.

ACOG Still Sucks

The road to hell is lined with the heads of card carrying members of ACOG. Step softly, they often carry knifes.

They think they know what is best for you, and because they are doctors, they are used to being listened too.

I am happy today to hear the news that ACOG has made a new statement about VBAC. You can read the statement here. I know I sound negative about something that is actually WONDERFUL news for the VBACing natural childbirth community. It is just fantastic that ACOG is coming out in support of the relative safety of VBAC.

Despite how great this news is I simply can not bring myself to praise ACOG. I am glad that they are finally admitting what many women have known for years now, that having a vaginal birth after a Cesarean birth is possible, doable and SAFE. From their statement:

" Attempting a vaginal birth after cesarean (VBAC) is a safe and appropriate choice for most women who have had a prior cesarean delivery, including for some women who have had two previous cesareans, according to guidelines released today by The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologist."

Why can't I praise them? Because all the credit for this change of heart I believe has little to do with ACOG and their good intentions or feelings of love for women everywhere. I think it has much more to do with the recent realization they have come to that women simply will not put up with their restrictive VBAC crapola any more. (Yes, I just used crapola in a sentence.)

They realize that women are simply foregoing hospital births all together because women know that they can more easily have a VBAC OUTSIDE of the hospital with a midwife than within one. They are starting to realize that women will no longer be scared into a birth that they do not want, that it not satisfying, and that requires increased recovery simply because they said that that was what we should do.

They (ACOG) are starting to realize that women do not always like to take orders and be taken care of. We like to research, we like to make our own decisions, and we like to be active participants in the births of OUR children. Some women may believe their line of fear mongering bull, but not all of us.

So I am glad that ACOG has had a change of heart, that they recognize that the c-section rate is too high and that VBAC rates are too low. I am glad they are finally loosening their restrictions so that hopefully VBAC is more doable. But I don't really think they deserve any credit.

Who deserves the credit for this change? VBACing women do.

Instead of praising ACOG for realizing that despite all the gobs of money they can make off of c-sections, their anti-evidence approach to VBAC is hurting them in the long run, I would like to praise all of the women out there who have fought for VBAC.

Thousands of women have fought, bled and died for this change to come about. They have gone through the stigma of birthing at home in order to have a birth that they chose. They have been attended by supportive midwives. Some of them have birthed unassisted. Some of them have had hospital births in hostile environments where they were disrespected but in the process have shown hospital staff that VBAC is possible.

These are the women who deserve the praise for this recent statement.

Not ACOG. To ACOG I want to say this:

What can you do for all of those women who were denied VBAC because of you? Can you remove their scars? Can you remove their fears? Can you give them their births back? Can you change what you have already done?

You can do none of these things. Thousands if not hundreds of thousands of women have already suffered at your hands. Many more will because of the refusal of many OB's within your community to even acknowledge these new recommendations. You can not fix the pain that you have caused.

Thank you ACOG for changing your policy.

Shame on you for all of the bad births, scars, pain, depression and death that have come at your hands because of your unwillingness to do this sooner.

--- Ultrasound---Research and Links

There is lots of talk and questions about ultrasound and the safety of using it during pregnancy. I wanted to compile some good links with research or respected authors so here it is!

As somebody who innately distrusts any kind of intervention during pregnancy and birth I am always cautious about anything that is "safe" just because it is used.

Another thing to keep in mind that is often overlooked- the Doppler used to check the heartbeat is a higher frequency of ultrasound than the picture ultrasound and results in lots of exposure. Keep in mind that the biggest chunk of exposure that most women get is when they are continuously monitored while in labor. That is another good reason to avoid the epidural and the continuous fetal monitoring. It is also good reason to open your mouth and talk to women about ultrasounds- most of them have yet to get their biggest exposure.

Hope this is helpful!
Dangerous and Unethical?- Here

Safe?- Here

By Marsden Wagner- More Harm Than Good?- Here
This link has many many articles by noted birth professionals regarding ultrasound- Here

From Midwifery Today, covers ultrasound, heat and the link to Autism- Here

From Banned From Baby Showers- a few posts- Here

Homemade Laundry Detergent

Here is the recipe I use to make my laundry soap. It doesn't have much to do with natural birth but it does save tons of money, it is more natural than store bought soaps, and I did get it from my Bradley teacher!

Enjoy!

3 oz Bar of soap or Zote
1 C Borax
1/2 C Super Washing Soda (different than baking soda)
Essential oil for scent (I use lavender but it is optional)
Water

Tools-
4 or 5 gallon container
Knife
Pot
Long Spoon

Pour 5 Cups of water into pot on stove and heat till almost boiling. Cut up or grate the bar of soap and add to heated water, stir until the soap is totally dissolved.

When soap is melted, pour 3 gallons HOT tap water into the 5 gallon bucket. Add your melted soap mixture to the bucket of water. Mix, then add the 1/2 cup super washing soda and stir until dissolved.

Once the soda is dissolved, add the borax and stir until dissolved. You can add your fragrance now too if desired.

Cover the container and place it somewhere it won't be disturbed. All it to cool over night. In the morning it will be a gel (though not totally uniformly)

You can put it in smaller containers. I leave some in the bucket and pull out a half gallon or so at a time to keep in a jar by my washer.

About 1/2 cup is fine for a regular load, more for a large load.

Works fine in high efficiency washing machines but break up the clumps first.

This takes me maybe 20 minutes to make and I makes some every few months. I love this!!!

Pain, Humility, and Joy in the Journey

Every time something negative happens I always find myself wondering why. Is there a lesson I need to learn? Do I deserve this because of the choices I make? I had an experience recently that really made me think about a lot of things.

Even a few days removed it does not seem like such a big deal, so please, forgive my drama. I have had some issues with rashes on my hands for a few months. They itch and burn and swell and eventually the skin cracks and bleeds from the swelling. Last week it got the the worst it has ever been and I found myself in agony.

My hands just felt like they were on fire. It was probably the most painful thing I have experienced. Needless to say, after something like this I am always disappointed in my inability to handle such events with any degree of grace. Instead there was self pity, tears, impatience and a general woe is me attitude.

So that was the pain part-

Pain has an amazing way of teaching humility though. I am a big proponent of a more natural lifestyle. I often find myself wondering why people take so many drugs or eat badly or just generally doing things I "would never" do.

Oh my- if there was a pill I could have taken to make this go away, I would have sold my left arm for it. The experience gave me something that I can lack, a little more empathy for the experiences of those around me.

I have had people dealing with similar things around me and I was prone to advice. "Why don't you try this....." or, "Maybe you should change your diet..."

Needless to say, none too helpful in a loved one's time of suffering and need. I hope that I will be able to "get it" a little better now when somebody I care for is suffering.

Now for the joy-

If you are a housewife like me maybe you occasionally experience an overwhelming feeling of distaste for all things falling under the catergory of domestic chores. My laundry is never done, the dishes are endless, some parts of the house never seem to get clean and a hint of urine is often in the air. This somewhat oppressive environment where you are never actually finished and never really get a break, often sends me into frustration, and then time wasting on Facebook, as I try to escape the reality of my life.

But when I was feeling so awful last week I found that one of the hardest things was that I could not do those things for my family.

My hands hurt so badly that showering, bathing the kids, dishes and cooking dinner were painful events. Midst it all, do you know what I wanted? I just wanted to be able to serve my family and care for them. More excruciating than my physical pain was the feeling that I was unable to do my job as a wife and mother.

The everyday things that we as mothers do for our families are not just mindless chores. They are often mocked, seldom enjoyed, and easily co-opted out to others. Without being ridiculously romantic about it all, these everyday acts of kindness and service are a blessing to have.

I would not have much laundry, dishes, or messes if I had no children. If we had another income, I could more easily pay somebody else to do these menial tasks. But dishes, diapers and the like are not just chores. The everyday is part of the joy of motherhood. They are the little things that build a happy stable home. Those moments of work together are all moments of teaching and small gestures of love.

I realized that rather than complain about and seek refuge from the household chores, I need to take a minute here and there just to find joy in my journey. The journey that I have been given is motherhood. It does involve noise and smell and mess and very little rest, but it also involves love and sacrifice and yes, joy.

Now, you might be wondering what on earth this has to do with birth. Maybe focusing on the bad instead of enjoying the ride is just part of the human condition- but I think we do not just do this with everyday tasks. We do it with birth.

Birth is a seldom experienced life changing event. More that that though, it is sacred. It is a moment to be close to the divine, the Creator, it is the closest we will get in our brief lifetime to actually creating life. It is a moment close to both life and death, a passageway for a little soul to enter.

How often to we focus on this though? How often do we see the beauty and joy of the entire event? Instead the focus is so often on the PAIN the struggle and the difficulty. When we do this we don't just miss out on the joy of the journey of labor and birth. We treat a transformative event as a chore that just needs to be finished as soon as possible. We make something that is given to us as sacred into something that is feared.

One of the first things we can do as men and women to change childbirth in this country is to simply change our perception of it. We must look at it as a joyous part of our life's journey rather than a painful necessity.

Natural Birth: The Ultimate Feminist Manifesto

Let me get this strait, there is considerable political turmoil and fighting over a woman's reproductive right to abortion, but a woman tries to have a VBAC and the crap really hits the fan?

I admit, I don't get it. I am not interested in politics necessarily, and I definitely don't want to have a conversation about abortion, but I simply do not understand how we can put up with this.

Isn't it a woman's right to birth how and where she would like?

Why must we fight an uphill battle to avoid an epidural in a hospital? Why is midwife attended home birth still illegal in some states? Why do we have to fight so that our babies are not fed man made formula from a man made plastic bottle? Why are so few of us having home births with women by our side? Why don't we believe in our ability to create and birth and feed our babies?

Here is another question-
Why do we seem to want it this way? How can we demand equal pay for equal work, but as soon as a contraction starts, scream in pain like a child and beg for a knight on a white horse (or an OB in a white coat) to save us from our bodies? Why do we buy into this culture of misogyny that tells us that we must distrust and even hate our bodies and that a surgical incision into our abdomen (of all places!!) is easier and even better for our babies?

This makes me angry. It makes me angry that doctors play the bait and switch game with new mothers, that epidurals are pushed, that when I talk to students and they tell me that they can easily have a natural birth at their hospital I fear for them. I fear for them because I know what it is really like out there. I know that most hospitals have AT LEAST an epidural rate of 80%. Even the good ones have c-section rates around 30%. I know that most woman who say in passing that they want a natural birth, WILL NOT GET IT. They won't get it because the system is working against them and they must work really hard and be pretty lucky to get it.

Do you want to know what I think? I think that this is a sick and twisted joke. I think it is a tragedy that you can get an abortion but not a VBAC.

I think that I am a 30 year old broke housewife, who put her education on hold so that her husband could go to school. And I think that because I have had natural births, I am a bigger feminist than most women out there. I know that feminism is not about equal pay for doing a mans job, it is about being respected for doing something that only a woman can do.

Choices, Choices, Everywhere...

Let me tell you a story about a mom just trying to do her best.

Mom has a baby! She prepares for the birth, has him naturally and loves the experience. After a little bit of a rough start, breastfeeding starts heading in the right direction and a little healthy boy grows and grows.

Having a natural birth alone seems to make a mom a little counter-culture. She questions some of those commonly held beliefs out there. She realizes at some point that there is even an issue with vaccinations. WHAT?! Doesn't everybody do that?

But, she turns to Dr Sears who is a trusted source and he seems to recommend it, though not necessarily on the normally recommended schedule, so she proceeds forward. Because baby is little, she can't really see any ill effect.

Baby boy is around 15 months old and he gets a vaccine for Hepatitis A. Mom didn't really research this one and is very upset to find that after the shot, dear son is not himself for about a week. He is feverish and lethargic. This is a normally very active happy boy who is busy even when he is sick.

Mom starts to worry and so takes him into his pediatric Chiropractor. Immediately after his adjustment he is up and running which he had not done since his shot. The Chiropractor asks, "Why did you give him that vaccination?"

Mom starts to wonder...

A few more babies come. These ones do not get their shots.

When one of the babies is around three they live in a community with very low vaccination rates and (not necessarily because of this) the child gets pertussis or whooping cough.

Mom is scared again. She did vaccinate to care for and love her child. Then she doesn't vaccinate in order to do the best thing for the next child.

Either way, there are consequences.

And so...

Somebody told me once that the hardest thing about being a mother for her was all the decisions. There are so many of them to make. Every decision seems to have an expert on each side passionate about their view. You meet mothers on either side. All are so sure they are right. All seem to point out the dangers, not to you, but to YOUR CHILD should you make the wrong choice.

What is a mother to do?

I am starting to think there are few easy choices. And there are no choices without consequences. Every time something like the above happens to me I am reminded to temper my passions. There are sides to every issue. When I start to take a side I often find myself humbled.

All we can do is make educated choices based on knowledge and yes, instinct. Then we must accept that no matter what our choice, there will be consequences, some of them possibly unpleasant.

Being a mother is hard and humbling work because we are not just caring for ourselves, we are caring for another life. Good luck in your journey mamas.

Bits and Pieces- Birth Story

I think the thing I love most about this birth story is how calm and relaxed the mother is and how that allows her to have a calm and rather painless birth. You can teach this all day long but it is beautiful to see it in action.

Love it! Enjoy!


My due date throughout my pregnancy was sketchy. I was still nursing Owen when I got pregnant so my cycles were on the long side. My due date ranged anywhere from October 18 to October 23, but my midwife settled on October 18 as the “official” date. Since Owen had come 2½ weeks early, this was a reasonable choice. She also assured me that she would not be quick to induce if I did happen to go overdue. That was a relief to me because even though no very pregnant woman wants to stay pregnant a day longer than she has to (!), I didn’t want my labor to be forced just because I was outside of the medical timeline. This left the whole month of October open as a possibility to have this baby!

I started having Braxton Hicks contractions at 4 months—not altogether unusual for a fourth baby. However, as my ninth month approached, they became quite frequent. I’m sure I was overly anxious, but there were many nights that I sat on the couch feeling my tightening belly and wondering if this could be “the night.” Every morning I would wake up still pregnant and a little grumpy about it, too!

I visited my midwife on a Wednesday morning 10 days before my due date and mentioned that though my baby was still wiggling around, he seemed to be quieter that particular morning. She told me not to get excited but that babies often settle down right before labor begins. The next morning, I felt the first “real one.” When “real” contractions hit, it’s an “ah-ha!” moment—the experience of labor comes rushing back and you feel silly for mistaking those Braxton Hicks for the real things. The problem was those “real” contractions continued through the morning and afternoon but stayed about 30 minutes apart. I was uncomfortable but not in regular, active labor. I puttered around all day—reading, taking the kids out to play (while I sat in a chair!), making pizza. My friend, Raya, called to see if the baby had been born yet, but I was too uncertain to tell her I thought I might be in labor.

I was really glad to see Brian come home from work! He was emotional support and another set of hands. The night was full of ambivalence. We kept saying things like, “If the baby is born tonight…,” and, “If I go to work tomorrow…,” and, “If we go out this weekend…”

After we put the kids to bed for the night, Brian and I decided to relax and play word games on the computer together. My sister-in-law, Sarah, and my friend, Lu, both instant messaged me to see if I had started having any signs of labor. I told them I was having painful contractions, but they were still far apart. They both told me they would be praying. Still not sure what to expect the rest of the night, I headed off to bed at 11:30.

I had a difficult time sleeping. Part of it was excitement. Part of it was fear that if I allowed myself to drift off I may wake up in the morning still pregnant! Part of it was Brian’s noisy snoring. (He was having no trouble sleeping!) Part of it was the fact that the contractions I had been having all day were quickly getting closer together. Around 1 am, I became wide awake and started timing them. They were 5-10 minutes apart! After visiting the bathroom for the 100th time that night, I decided to go downstairs to read. I figured if it was labor, I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. And if it wasn’t labor, I could catch up with a nap the next day.

I decided not to wake Brian. I figured I could labor on my own for awhile before getting him excited. I wanted him to be well rested before we made the hour trek to the hospital’s birthing center. I set a goal for myself to wait until 3 o’clock to wake him and to call my mom to come sleep-sit for the kids. Three o’clock came and went and the contractions were still 5-10 minutes apart! Then it was four o’clock and four thirty… Sometime in the night, I let Brian know there was no question I was in labor now, but that he should sleep until I needed him. At five o’clock, the contractions had slowed (ugh!) so I put down my book and decided to try to doze. As soon as I lay down, I had a whopper contraction grip me. I knew if they continued with such intensity, I would be back up within minutes, but the next thing I knew, I was waking up at 6 o’clock, having slept without one contraction! Talk about discouraging.

The alarm in our bedroom was set to go off soon so I trudged up the stairs to discuss options with Brian. We decided that he should go to work with the idea that I could call him home as soon as I felt I needed him. I also called my mom to put her on alert that I would probably need her sometime that day. At this point, I was a little down again. I knew these were labor contractions, but with them coming and going and varying their timing, I was afraid it would drag on for days. I got up to fix the kids some toast for breakfast—the easiest thing I could come up with that everyone would eat—and boom!, I had three contractions in a row!

At 9:30 am, I had a contraction strong enough that I had to concentrate to get through it. I was afraid to be alone with just the little ones so I called Brian and asked him to start preparing to come home. He had a 15-minute drive to return the work truck and then a 25-minute drive home. When he got home, we ate an early lunch and he entertained the kids while I laid down to rest. As I was drifting off, I kept hearing, “Where’s Mama?” Occasionally, I would feel a pat or a bit of breath on my cheek. Again, I woke up from sleep, having had NO contractions. I was fed up!

We decided to gather the crew together and take a walk around the neighborhood. It was a beautiful day for October—sunny and mild. I was barely out the door when the contractions started coming fast. I was able to relax and concentrate through each one, but it was difficult to maintain composure on a public street! Brian asked if I would rather go home, but I decided to keep walking since I seemed to finally be progressing. The kids had no idea what was going on. They kept stopping and asking me to look at leaves, feel the bark on the trees, watch the ants on the sidewalk, things we usually do on our nature walks. By the time we had circled the block a couple of times, I knew labor was steady enough to head to the hospital. As we continued to walk, Brian used his cell phone to call my mom to come over and we told the kids that this was the day their baby brother would arrive.

During the hour drive to the hospital, I was upbeat and talkative. During contractions, I had to hug my body pillow and close my eyes. I found that shutting my eyes helped me concentrate on relaxing all the muscles in my body. Relaxing my muscles reduced my tension which reduced my pain. As soon as the tightening ending, I was fine. All through the pregnancy, I had back pain—much more so than with the other pregnancies. My contractions followed the same trend. Even though they could be felt all over my abdomen, the majority of the pain was in my back.

We arrived at the hospital at 2:45 pm. As we walked into Admissions, we passed another very pregnant woman in a wheelchair, holding her back and breathing heavily. We commented that someone else would be having a baby that day, too. After getting my admissions papers, we headed up to the fifth floor birthing center. I was offered a wheelchair, but declined, knowing I was perfectly okay to walk. One nurse sat in the birth center’s nurses’ station so we walked up to her. She stared back at me with a blank look and said, “May I help you?”

I gave her a puzzled look, handed her my admissions papers, and said, “I have admissions papers.”

“For what?”

I stood there almost 9 months pregnant with my mouth hanging open! Brian jumped to my rescue. “She’s in labor,” he said.

“Oh,” says the nurse. “You’re here to be checked for labor!”

She ushered me into a bathroom to give a urine sample and sent Brian into a triage room—the same area where we ran into trouble with my previous labor! He could hear her discussing me with a second nurse. “She says she’s being admitted.”

“When is she due?”

“In 10 days.”

“Is she even having contractions?”

I emerged from the restroom oblivious to the conversation and the second nurse hooked me up to a fetal monitor. I was still talkative and smiling. My regular midwife was not on call that weekend and I found out the other midwife in the practice, Carol, would be with me during my labor. I was a little nervous since I didn’t know her or her philosophy nearly as well. She arrived on the scene within a few minutes, asked a few questions, and decided to check my cervix. “You’re 5-6 centimeters with a bulging bag of water!” The nurse seemed surprised. (Apparently the nurses had convinced themselves I was too calm to be in labor.) In the meantime, I found out that the other very pregnant woman we had seen downstairs in admissions was being sent home because she was 0 centimeters dilated! I guess demeanor isn’t everything!

Carol reviewed my birth plan, said it seemed reasonable, and went to get a LDRP (Labor/Delivery/Recovery/Postpartum) room ready. I gathered my things, took my chart from the nurse, and ambled after her. She laughed, “Here she comes! You seem like you’re out for a hike instead of in active labor!” My new nurse, Heather said, “And she’s even carrying her own chart!”

After getting me settled in my room, Carol talked to me about my options. Knowing I desired a natural labor, she suggested walking around the unit or relaxing in my room’s Jacuzzi tub. She pointed out that my contractions were still not coming as often as expected at this stage, “but obviously it is working.” She also said that since my water bag was bulging, she could break it and kick labor into higher gear. She left it up to me, though, saying she was prepared to stick around as long as it took to have a baby. Brian and I talked about it and decided that we would let my body continue to labor at its own pace since that fit with our plan to have things as natural as possible.

Midwife means “with woman” and Carol was good at her job! She would come in the room and chat quietly with me or even sit silently when I needed to be quiet. Instead of relying on monitors, she would feel my belly during a contraction to measure its strength. She asked me why I thought many women feel the need to carry on and make people feel sorry for them while they are in labor. I wasn’t sure how to answer because I couldn’t imagine being loud or laboring in any other way. She said, “I had four children and labored just like you are laboring. I try to empathize with those women, but sometimes…”

Around 4:30, Heather suggested I try the Jacuzzi tub. She said she had used it during her labor and enjoyed it. I’ve heard that immersing in water can reduce labor pain, but I didn’t realize the extent of that truth until I tried it. I’m not sure if it was caused by the weightlessness that came from floating or an improved ability to relax in the warmth, but immediately the contractions were less uncomfortable. With my belly entirely covered by the water, I could still feel all the pressure, but the pain decreased. Time went by quickly while I was in the tub. The contractions started coming closer together and I sensed that I was in transition though I was still able to talk and relax in-between. Carol came in again and suggested she check my cervix. I was at an 8. Carol put a cool rag on my neck. That helped me relax so Brian continued cooling it and reapplying it.

I was beginning to feel a lot of pressure and the need to leave the tub. The contractions were coming so close together at this point, though, that it took awhile to time my departure! I took my time getting out and walking to the bed. The room was dim. Carol and Heather were talking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere in the room.

I labored for a short time sitting upright on the bed. Concentrating on my labor was taking up all my brain space at this point so I don’t recall as much detail from here on out. (Brian filled in for me what I don’t remember!) Though I still felt fine between contractions, they came so close to together, I stayed quiet to keep on top of it. If I lost concentration, I started to tense up which made it hurt more. I remember reading while I was pregnant that if you start to feel as though you can’t do it anymore, you are getting close to delivering. Once or twice, I felt this, but I reminded myself that it was almost over. Really the only part I had trouble with was the intensity at the peak of each contraction.

Carol asked me if I was ready to have my water broken and “have this baby.” Knowing how close I was, I agreed. Heather monitored the baby’s heartbeat with a hand-held Doppler while Carol broke my water. The fluid was clear with no meconium and Baby tolerated the procedure like a champ. Brian continued to apply a cool wet cloth to my neck and face.

I was unable to talk by now. I communicated only by nodding or shaking my head. I’m sure I was physically able to talk, but it would have thrown off my concentration. I was in a semi-sitting position. I know that it is best to be upright while laboring, but this was actually more comfortable and I was progressing well so I decided not to change. Heather asked Carol if she needed to break the bed down for delivery, but since I would have to be disturbed, Carol whispered that she would try to deliver the way it was.

Carol checked me again and said I had a bit of a cervical lip, but that it would probably melt away as I began to push. I started to feel increasing pressure and then the amazing urge to push. After the first push, Brian said, “You’re almost done.” I was surprised since I had just started, but it was encouraging because the pushing urge was so intense! With the second push, his head was out. I was clinging to Brian’s hand (and trying not to squeeze too hard) when Carol said, “Okay, Dad, are you ready?” With the third push, Brian was able to grab the baby’s shoulders and upper back and help deliver him! Less than ten minutes after I started pushing, Benjamin was born. I reached down and pulled Ben onto my belly myself. It was 7:33 pm on October 10.

There was no tearing so I felt very little pain as soon as labor ended. I wasn’t even sore. I kept Benjamin on my stomach while Brian cut the cord and while they wiped him off and evaluated him. I nursed him while Carol delivered the placenta. The room was still dim and peaceful, and I was euphoric (and hungry!).

When Ben was about an hour old, they weighed him and he came in at 7 pounds, 6 ounces. We were surprised since the other kids were so much bigger (even Owen who came early). He was 21 inches long. He had a perfectly round head, dark hair, and very long eyelashes!

I am so pleased with my labor and delivery. This was my most satisfying birth of the four. I may have started off nervous about not knowing Carol, but Brian and I agreed that we are glad she delivered Benjamin because she was in tune to what I needed and eager to help me achieve the birth I desired. We appreciated her lack of hurry and her laid-back manner.

While I’m not up for it again anytime soon, Benjamin’s birth proved to me labor doesn’t have to be frantic but can follow its own timetable and be calm and enjoyable.

Will I Ever Be Good Enough?

If my last few posts mean anything, I am obviously having some issues lately.

Sometimes I hear women say things like, "I know I am a good mother," or something along those lines. I seriously wonder what the heck they are talking about. No, I am not judging them because I think they are not a good mom, I just don't understand where their confidence comes from.

When I look at myself and my life, all I see are my flaws. I see my beautiful children. They are amazing. But any behavior problems or issues they have, I can pretty much attribute to something I did or said. When they are rude, they are usually just repeating something I said. When they are acting up, it is usually because I have not been giving them the attention they need.

My marriage. My gosh, where do I even begin. I try so hard to be a great wife, but it just does not ever seem to be enough. I do not expect perfection, but I guess I expect better than this...

I struggle to clean and cook and care for those around me. And yet, there is still something else that needs to be done. There is still a mess, a load of laundry, a dish, an ant, an unidentifiable odor.

I by no means mean to say that I think it is within my power to do and be all these things perfectly. But I do think I could be better.

Maybe part of the problem is that I am afraid of being comfortable. I am afraid that if I stop pushing myself I will stop trying. I fear that if I look at myself and my life and think, "Good job mama" that I will be prideful, boastful, and arrogant.

But I get so tired of feeling not good enough. I like to say that guilt is a good motivator for me. It forces me to get out of bed and try harder the next day. Lately though I have just been feeling overwhelmed.

Talking to other moms I am starting to think that I am not the only one who feels like this. So many of us just notice our faults. We notice the mistakes and the flaws. We work ourselves until we are lame and then do it again the next day and still feel like we have not done it all.

I wish I knew what the answer was to this depressing little conundrum. I wish I knew a way to be happy, joyful and smiling without being complacent. I want to be humble and teachable but also be strong, powerful, and confident.

Maybe I do just want perfection when I should be looking for balance and joy.

Am I A Misogynist Too?

One of my favorite movies is an Adam Sandler flick called Spanglish. It is about a Hispanic mother and daughter moving in with an Anglo family and all that goes on. The gringo mother works out like a madwoman and the narrator talks about how American women get so obsessed with working out their bodies that they start to erase not just their womanly curves but also their feminine traits, like softness, kindness, and nurturing.

I love that sentiment. And yet...

I started running after I had my third baby. I LOVE it. I am 30 and I have three kids and I am probably in the best shape of my life. I run about 16 miles a week total - four days, four miles each day. I have loved that I feel better and more confident. I have loved that I have lost 20 pounds.

Despite all this, I come home, get undressed, look in the mirror, and all I see is my sagging breasts and my belly pouch.

I don't want you to think that I am an incredibly vain self obsessed shallow brat. I sincerely hope that I am not. In fact, I think I am like a lot of women.

I love my kids and I love being a mom. I am amazed by the power of the female body and its ability to grow, nurture and then feed new life. But despite all my wonder and all the joy I find in the powers of the female body, I look at myself and feel distaste for what motherhood has done to it.

I am constantly working to make my body look "better". I want to get into "shape". I could tell you that I only work out for health reasons, companionship with my running partners, endorphins, and all that (and those are all reasons I do it) but I would be lying if I did not admit that one of the MAIN reasons I exercise is to beat my sagging mama body back into submission.

I am on a constant quest to turn it back into what it was before.

When I am honest with myself I realize that I, a teacher of natural childbirth, a proponent of the inherent girl power in the female physique, a self proclaimed feminist housewife, am underneath it all, a misogynist.

I look at my motherly body and I am repulsed by it. I see stretch marks. I see loose skin. I see myself starting to age. I have even thought, "Maybe someday if I have enough money I will get _______ fixed."

What disgusts me even more than the scars that I have earned from growing life inside me, is that I actually have had a desire to get rid of those traits.

When I think about it, wanting to change the things about my body that have happened because of motherhood, is, well, almost a sacrilege. I should be amazed by my power and beauty. I should love it. I should not look with fondness on a body I had when I was younger and frankly stupider and more selfish. A body I had when I wanted men to look at me. (I mean really, who cares?)

I am not going to stop exercising. I really do love the way it makes me feel and the energy it gives me to be a mother for the rest of the day. I will try to remember that just because our culture only values women who are young and "perfect" that I should know better.

I should be a little wiser, a little more grateful, and I should practice what I preach. I should see the beauty in the mothers body, even my own.

Partners in Crime, An Interview with Mr. C-Section and Mr. Ultrasound

Mr C-Section-
"Well today I wanted to introduce you all to a very good friend of mine, Mr Ultrasound. You will find him everywhere today in Obstetrics. Lets talk to him a little about how he works and what he does. Mr Ultrasound, welcome to the show."

Mr. Ultrasound-

"Well, Mr C, thanks so much for having me. I don't think many people realize what good friends we are so it is nice to have this opportunity."

Mr C-

"So true Mr U, explain a little to start about your role in obstetrics, and how you keep women scared and the money rolling in."

Mr U-

"I would be happy too. Well, years ago, I was just used if a Doctor was worried about something or a woman was high risk. But today, almost every woman gets exposed to me throughout her pregnancy. It is something that I am really quite proud of."

Mr C-

"As you should be. Tell me your role in Obstetrics today."

Mr U-

"Of course! Well, almost as soon as a woman gets pregnant she can go see her doctor or midwife. Now, they can do early internal ultrasounds to determine a heartbeat. It is now pretty much standard care for that mom to have ultrasound exposure at every visit in the form of the Doppler to hear the babies heartbeat. By 20 weeks, most women get another ultrasound, this one from a trained tech that can look at the baby to determine sex and check on the size of the baby. Then, in labor, I am an integral part of the entire process, since I am often strapped to the laboring woman for the entire time she is in the hospital."

Mr C-

"I know! Isn't it amazing how you and I, while once thought only necessary in extreme situations are now just standard of care! I mean, even me, THE C-SECTION! Have you heard? 32%!!! I just can't believe my luck! But enough about me, could you explain how we have become such good friends?"

Mr U-

"Of course! We work so well together don't you think? You see the early ultrasound when the mom thinks she is just going to find out the sex of the baby, is a chance to start instilling fear. Maybe the baby is too small. Maybe it is too big. Either way it works well. Too small and we can get her worrying about her bodies ability to create life. Too big and we can plant the idea in her head that she will need YOU in order to give birth."

"But that is just the beginning!! We can schedule more and more ultrasounds to determine exactly what is "wrong" with the baby! This helps pay for my boat, know what I mean!?

"Then, if the baby dares stay in that tummy for a day over 40 weeks, she can get another ultrasound, this time to see how low those fluid levels are and how old that placenta is. Also- this is a chance to prove to her through "science" that her baby is ENORMOUS!!!! Sometimes we can just schedule the c-section right then, but even if not, it plants an important seed of fear and self doubt."

Mr C-

"But Mr U! Don't stop there, we continue to work together so well throughout the labor, do we not? Please continue!"

Mr U-

"With pleasure! This next bit is really my pride and joy. Continuous fetal monitoring!!! Really ingenious don't you think?!"

"Once a woman is in labor, she can be constantly strapped to me! As you know, I am not terribly accurate in determining if a baby is actually in distress when used this way. However, what woman wants to complain and demand that I be used only occasionally! That could possibly put her baby at risk, which would make her a bad mother before she even starts!!!!"

Mr C-

"You know bud, that is one of my favorite things too. Nobody really knows how often I get used because of you, but I have a feeling that we will be good friends for a long long time."

Mr U-

"Here is the best part. They can NEVER get rid of us. The reason- we are both necessary some of the time. And because we are an important part of actually keeping some women and babies safe and healthy, we can continue to be overused for everybody!"

Mr C-

"Well, Mr U, it has been a pleasure, as always. See you again soon!"

Mr U-

" You know it brother!"