Smoking Marijuana While Pregnant- Why The Jamacian Study Doesn't Matter

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Once upon a time I did a post on why women shouldn't smoke marijuana while pregnant.  You should read it.

I am staunchly opposed to the recreational use of drugs (and yes I consider marijuana a drug) while pregnant.  In fact, I tend to agree with Dr Bradley, that there is no drug proven to be safe for the unborn baby.  

If you don't need a drug and the benefit doesn't outweigh the risk, then I am of the mind that those things should be avoided....just in case.  Babies, and their health, is nothing to be trifled with.   

Oddly though, the same women who are staunchly opposed to drugs in labor, find the use of the "natural plant" to be just fine while pregnant.  

Discussion concerning marijuana smoking while pregnant is heated and emotional (especially I noticed, by people named anonymous).  But one thing that is brought up often to SUPPORT the use of marijuana while pregnant is something referred to as "The Jamaican Study."

The Jamaican study, which you can read here, is said to prove that not only do babies whose mothers smoke marijuana while pregnant do just fine, they are actually SUPERIOR to non-exposed infants. 

I want to take a few minutes to point out some of the reasons why the "Jamaican study" is not a sufficient reason to embrace recreational use of marijuana while pregnant. 

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One of the first problems with this study is the size of the sample used- only 24 babies were exposed to marijuana prenatally and only 20 were in the unexposed group.  A grand total of 44 babies.   

This is a TINY sample size.  Personally, even when I find studies that I WANT to agree with, I dismiss them when the sample size is that small.  

Is this really a big enough group to make broad statements about what is safe or not in pregnancy?  

Babies in the study were scored using something called the Brazelton Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale at one day of life and again at one month.  The researchers admit that findings have been conflicting from other researchers on this same subject.  This is NOT a study that has been replicated over and over again, quite the contrary.  The ability to reproduce results is something often used to "prove" the validity of a study.  In this case, it has not been done.

" Despite the prevalence of marijuana use among women of childbearing age, reports on the behavioral teratogenic effects of prenatal marijuana exposure have been conflicting and inconclusive. Fried and Makin, for example, found that moderate levels of marijuana use in their middle-class Ottawa sample (7.0 joints per week) were associated with poorer habituation to light, higher levels of irritability, and increased tremors and startles as assessed by the Brazelton Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale (NBAS) between the third and sixth days of life."

Another problem with the Jamaican study is that the results really cannot be applied to women in America. Why? Because:

"The sample was drawn from the vast category of "rural poor," which constitute the majority of the population of this region of Jamaica. "

They were looking at a group of women who matched each other closely in income level- but they and their lifestyle, do NOT translate well to the average American woman.  These are women who differ in many ways - income, access to nutrition, lifestyle culture, etc, from women in America.  The results of this study can't necessarily be considered important to a very different population here or in other wealthier nations. 

One thing that is often problematic in studies looking at marijuana use in pregnancy is separating out the use of this substance from the use of other substances.  What is really causing changes in test results?  Is it marijuana or is it another substance?  I had assumed that this study in particular was often cited by those supporting marijuana use in pregnancy because it did this. 

 "The use of alcohol and tobacco was minimal in both groups and did not exceed 3 beers or 15 tobacco cigarettes per week for any of the women in the study"

Alcohol and cigarette use in the study wasn't excessive- but it WAS NOT completely eliminated either.  Those are both known to impact fetal development.  

Another reason why the results of this study are flawed is that the heaviest users of marijuana actually had the highest education level.  Could it be that the education of the mother has an impact on the babies ability to test well? 

"First, as a group, the heavy users had the highest level of education. All the heavy users had had some schooling beyond the primary school level and three had had some post secondary training."

 Not only did the heaviest users have higher education levels, they also had more control over resources in their home.  This suggests that possibly they were able to have more control over what they ate- and some believe that maternal diet can impact the health of the baby.  

" The heavy-marijuana-users did not have more income and status than the other women, but they did have more control over how they acquired and spent their resources."

 Now- to the results.  

 "The heavily exposed neonates were more socially responsive and were more autonomically stable at 30 days than their matched counterparts. The quality of their alertness was higher; their motor and autonomic systems were more robust; they were less irritable; they were less likely to demonstrate any imbalance of tone; they needed less examiner facilitation to become organized; they had better self-regulation; and were judged to be more rewarding for caregivers than the neonates of nonusing mothers at 1 month of age."

 At one month the children of heavy using mothers did better on the given test.  This much is true.  Why doesn't it matter?  Why isn't this enough evidence to say "Go smoke a joint for a smarter baby!!!!"  The quote below illustrates this well:

  

" Furthermore, unlike the United States, in which heavy marijuana use often is associated with maternal incompetence and a suboptimal caregiving environment, the data from this study indicate that in Jamaica, the heavy-marijuana-using mother's education, independence, and greater access to resources converge in a constellation of maternal competence and a supportive context for neonatal development."

 Aaaaahhhhhhh..............

This is big.  If you read the study in full, you will find that the heavy marijuana users had the most social support.  They had fewer little children at home, they had more adults to help them and so - yes - their babies did seem to respond better in the tests.  But even the researchers thought that this improved testing could have a lot to do with the different situations the heavy using mothers were in, as opposed to the nonusers and NOT necessary the use of marijuana.  

So- a quick recap on all the things that make the "Jamaican study" a joke.  

1.  The sample size was laughably small.

2.  The study has not been replicated.

3.  The study did not eliminate other substances known to impact fetal development such as alcohol or tobacco.

4.  The mothers who used the most marijuana while pregnant had the highest education level.

5.  The mothers with the most usage also had a more supportive home environment than the non-using mothers.

6.  The researchers themselves noted that this could have had an impact on their study results.  

But- if that is not enough to convince you that marijuana is not a good thing for your baby- how about this-  this study ONLY looked at the babies at one month of age.  What happens to them LATER in life?  Does marijuana use in the mother impact later development?  

It is known that many drugs can impact the baby but not SHOW until much later in life.  

These studies both showed that marijuana smoking was correlated with a negative impact on children when they were the age of ten. 

Marijuana smoking while pregnant impacts negatively the behavior of older children-

Mothers who smoked marijuana while pregnant had children with more depression at age ten

And here is another showing that cannabis impacts the baby negatively.

 Cannabis and tobacco has impact on baby-

End results- the Jamaican study doesn't prove that smoking marijuana while pregnant is good for you baby.  If anything it shows that the environment surrounding a baby being supportive can be helpful in that infants development.  It doesn't show these babies are better off when they are adults or older children.  It doesn't really show much of anything about marijuana being good for the newborn.  

I wish that women would carefully consider the impact of what they smoke on their children.  We can't assume that something is "good" for our babies because our friends babies seem fine or because one study shows that it is a good thing.  

It is time we stopped making excuses for ourselves just because we don't want to give up part of our old lifestyle when we are pregnant.  Choose your baby first. 

Murphy's Law- As It Applies To Motherhood

I once thought that people who talked about Murphy's law were negative.  "Who thinks that everything that can go wrong, will go wrong?"  I said in my little 'cup is half' full kind of way.

Then I had kids.

I don't think of it as negative anymore- just true.  It is true that life challenges us just when we start to get comfortable.

How does Murphy's law apply to motherhood?  See for yourself:

These sweet pictures are from our readers!

~When you crawl into bed after finishing cleaning and...dare I admit, Facebooking--- somebody wakes up!

~As soon as you sit down to nurse a baby, somebody decides that they are magically potty trained AND they need their bottom wiped and their hands washed.

~When you finally figure out breastfeeding and the sweet babe is starting to sleep more at night....they start to get teeth. 

This goes on for years.  

~When you finish cleaning up after the LAST meal, they are all hungry again.  

~Once the floor is shiny, mopped and beautiful, something gets spilled on it.  

~You caught up on the laundry?!  What an organized mom!  Entering from stage left, vomit, urine, or worse.  Caught up on laundry happens when you live alone.

~When you lose the baby weight---you suddenly get PREGNANT!

~The sweet and wonderful toddler begins to finally be able to communicate with the world through the spoken word.  Surly they will say "I love you,"  "Mama," or "You look great."  As it turns out their favorite thing to communicate is this:

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Maybe spoken language is overrated.  Or maybe my current two year old is an anomaly.  They were not all like this. 

~The kids are really getting along, playing beautifully, hugging, having fun- and it is of course- bedtime.  Why does it take them a few hours after school gets out to get in a happy groove together?!

~The toddler who has never liked cuddling or co-sleeping, decides they are a big fan of both- as soon as you have a new baby.  

~When you figure it all out, are full of wisdom, and finally know which way is up, you are struck by the realization that you will actually NEVER figure it all out, have all the wisdom, or always know which way is up.  Plus, you are in your thirties and starting to get wrinkles. 

Maybe Murphy was right on.  Maybe things DO seem to go wrong whenever they can.  But maybe that isn't always such a bad thing after all. 

Obstetric Lie # 85- I Know What Natural Birth Is

I talked to a woman once who believed in natural birth.  In fact she had had her first few babies unmedicated in the hospital.

She delivered on her back (without pain relief), her doctor cut a nice episiotomy and she had horrid recoveries.  They were difficult experiences for both her and her husband.  She got epidurals for her next few babies and had a much more positive experience.

To many people involved in medicine, this is what "natural birth" is- it is a woman suffering through the typical hospital assembly line, supine, Pitocin in your vein, let's pull this baby out, hospital birth- only she does it without the relief of an epidural.

This may be unmedicated but it certainly isn't NATURAL.  In fact, it is nowhere near natural and can be quite traumatic indeed, even suffering of the first order. 


There is a very good chance that your doctor has NEVER seen a natural birth.  Oh, he may have seen a handful of unmedicated births, sure.  Those happen every now and again with a dedicated mother or somebody who just arrived at the hospital too late for any pain relief.  But an actual NATURAL birth- that is another story altogether.

Let's talk about an example of an unmedicated birth.  So as not pick apart the birth experience of another, I will use my own.

When I arrived at the hospital I got a vaginal exam (not natural) that found I was at 8 centimeters dilatation.  I got an hep lock IV (not natural) because there was worry about me needing fluids at some point.  I labored in a tub which was wonderful.  I started feeling pushy and got another vaginal exam (not natural).  They pulled me out of the tub (unnatural) because water births were against hospital policy.  I moved to the bed and pushed for four hours in every position known to man.

At some point I was hooked up to a bag of saline solution (not natural) because my contractions had slowed and my midwife thought I could use some fluids to pick things back up.  After four hours I was offered two choices- vacuum extraction or an episiotomy (neither natural).  I choose an episiotomy.

My son was born just after that.  He was healthy and strong.  I started to bleed out and received a shot of methagrin and some Pitocin in my IV.  Again- those are unnatural interventions.

I had a totally medication free birth, but it was not natural.  There were interventions that were not part of the natural process.

Now before anybody gets the wrong idea I want to be very clear- NATURAL BIRTH ISN'T ALWAYS BETTER.  

That sounds weird from somebody like me, but it is true.  I am deeply GRATEFUL for most of those interventions.  Some of them saved me from a c-section and others probably saved me from a lot of blood loss and maybe even death.  Natural isn't superior just because or all of the time.  (I happen to think that the more natural the birth the less need for some interventions, but that is another post altogether.)  I think I needed that IV and I think I needed those anti-hemorrhage drugs.  I don't really think it is fair or nice to pick apart another persons birth experience and tell them what they needed or didn't. 

I also don't want to give the impression that any of those interventions left a bad taste in my mouth- it was a fabulous birth.  It changed my life, it gave me confidence, and it changed me.  I never felt the need to be angry or sad over a birth experience just because there were a few interventions, necessary or not.  We don't always get what we want- and that is just part of birth- and part of life.  

Just so that's clear.  Now let's move on.  


I talked to a medical doctor who was in my class once.  She had caught hundreds of babies.  We watched a birth video with women squatting and pushing their babies out with zero interference.  Nobody even touched the baby, it simply feel onto a towel just under the mother.


This medical doctor, skilled in delivering babies, didn't know that was possible.  She was trained to pull, traction and "assist" the baby out.  That is what she had been taught was needed.


I submit that when we talk about real natural birth with people in the medical community they often don't even know what it is we are getting at.  The truth is, to go through the normal induced, assembly line birth without pain medication could very possibly be a traumatic and incredibly painful experience without some pharmaceutical relief.  "Why would you want to do that?" is an obvious question when you know that a little needle can make it all go away.


And it is a good question.


We don't just want an unmedicated birth.  We want NATURAL, physiologically normal, women led, instinctive birth that is respected.  We don't want to be mocked, laughed at, forced on our backs, forced to have our babies at somebody else's convenience with an IV, Pitocin, lots of vaginal exams, pressure to dialate according to a textbook, and an episiotomy when we finally make it through all that labor stuff.


At the risk of being offensive, very few births in this country are actually natural.  Even those that are unmedicated almost always have unnatural interventions.  Some of those interventions are prudent, needed, and even LIFESAVING.  But oftentimes, they are none of the above- they are just part of training, part of the routine, part of the policy and the politics of male dominated, epidural heavy, date oriented modern birth.


Sometimes when women try to go unnmedicated within this machine they find it very difficult indeed.


I don't know what the solution to this problem is, though I do think it is a problem.  I would love for all medical doctors and nurses and midwives to see an normal, healthy, natural and woman led birth.  It can happen safely all the time.  I think that could change the way birth is seen and practiced, even if it is practiced by trained surgeons well versed in pathology.


Maybe more doctors should birth at home.....

Well, a girl can dream.  

A Prayer, A Car, & An Unassisted Birth on the Highway

I just love birth stories like this!  Plus, it just cracks me up sometimes how hubby is the one who knows when it is time to go to the birth place when mom has lost all desire to leave home.  

Enjoy this blissful, spiritual, and instinctive birth-

Six days before my due date my husband Curt and I had our "date evening". We don't usually do anything fancy, it's just nice to leave our house and toddler and spend one-on-one time together. I asked him to take belly pictures of me since I might lose my bump soon. He asked me, "Is it okay with you that I've been praying all day that the baby would come?" Sure, I thought, why not? My hips have been killing me and I'm tired of hobbling everywhere. We went to the railroad tracks down the street and he took this.

A little later I started having contractions, but they were so mild I couldn't be sure if they were really contractions or just uncomfortable baby calisthenics. It wasn't until about 11pm after we'd gone home and everyone else was asleep that I noticed the contractions were getting stronger and were evenly spaced. I had mentally prepared myself to go 42 weeks if I had to, so I didn't think it was real labor. I hung out in the bathroom for a while and waited to see what would happen. My midwife (Damaris) told me to call her if I ever thought the time had come, but I still had almost a week until my due date and I didn't want to make a big fuss over nothing. 

I puttered around, changed my clothes, considered painting my nails, did a fake ballet move or two, and finally called Damaris around midnight -- I had to cover my bases just in case. My contractions were 3 minutes apart, 30 seconds long and I could talk through them, so she suggested I try and get some sleep because I probably still had a long ways to go. (I told her I'd only been having contractions for about 45 minutes, since that's what it seemed like.) So far it was a walk in the park with a little belly ache. I figured I might end up having a 24-hour labor and I psyched myself up to be in it for the long haul.

I stayed in the bathroom for a while longer but then it got a little lonely and boring so I figured I'd go wake Curt up and let him in on the action. My method of waking him up was to sit beside him and hum like a loud monk through a contraction. He woke up, assessed the situation and got ready to be a thoughtful labor coach. He did just great until.. say, 2:15. I realized, gosh, these things are really picking up. In that short span of time my method of expressing myself had gone from a hum to a holler. The contractions weren't thirty seconds long anymore. During a small break I told Curt, "You'd better call Damaris and tell her we're coming if you want to have this baby at the birth center. I don't want to travel if I'm feeling any worse than I am now." I had no idea how far I'd progressed but for some reason it already felt so intense that I couldn't even fathom the thought of traveling.

After that things get a little blurry. Curt woke my mom up and they put our nineteen-month-old son Reagan in her room to sleep a little more. He'd been sleeping valiantly through my noise but it was getting pretty impossible by that point and I'd heard him fuss a little. When Curt got my mom she wondered what I was yelling about. Then she realized I was in labor, and she thought she might come talk with me a little in the spaces between contractions like you're supposed to be able to do in early labor. But I was beyond small talk. 

She and Curt both wondered if my labor was really so bad or if I was just handling it horribly. I got to the point where I couldn't keep my voice low pitched anymore, the pain was tearing me up from the inside out. To make it worse, I knew everything was gearing up for me to hop into the car and ride to the birth center. There was no way that could happen. Curt came over to tell me something and I proceeded to let him know I couldn't leave. I was beyond the ability to travel. 

Standing and walking would make everything more intense; I couldn't handle the thought of leaving the bed, much less sitting/laying in a minivan for 50 minutes while we traveled to the birth center. But he insisted. I don't make a habit of staunchly refusing to do something my husband wants me to do, but I didn't see how I would be able to physically handle what he was asking of me. It's not that I wanted a home birth SO badly or that everything had to go exactly one way or the other, I just knew I had to stay in bed. The pain was intolerable otherwise.

"I can't, I can't, I can't do it!!!" If I hadn't been able to manage the pain with low-pitched sounds (like I was instructed to) before, I really couldn't now with my husband standing beside the bed telling me I had no option but to stand, walk to the car and sit in it for an hour. Shrieking ensued.

Me - "Mom, tell him I can't move! My pain isn't relenting. There's no break during contractions, the pain just stays!"

Mom - "Honey, you don't want that baby to be born here. We have to go."

Me - "No, you don't understand. I DO want this baby to be born here. I want him born right here! I can't move!"

Mom - "Ok, just relax. It's ok."

If we'd known what was really happening we might have figured out this was that fun little stage of labor called "transition" when you're going from active hard labor into the pushing stage. My contractions were incredibly intense, one after the other. I was hurting so bad I was scratching and gnawing on my arm. 

 It felt like the agony of every contraction was too much for my body to handle. I had to push out the pain. In the back of my head I remembered my childbirth instructor saying that during the pushing stage your contractions start to feel expulsive, but surely I wasn't far along enough to start pushing. I had only been in labor for 3 hours! There was no nurse or midwife around to check me and tell me I was open enough for a baby to come through. It didn't matter, though. I had to push, open or not.

I kept myself sane by praying out loud the whole time.

"Lord please help me, Lord please help me." Repeat about 15 times. "Lord, please don't let them make me go. I can't go." And just in case there was a chance I would have to do the impossible, I prayed that I'd have the strength to go if I must. I told myself I could do this, no matter how hard it seemed. How would I do it? How would I deal with unknown hours of agony? I didn't know, but I would. God could help me.

They were working around me trying to get things ready for the trip, but I couldn't imagine the thought of having to leave. The really hard thing was not knowing how long the pain would last. For all I knew I was still in early labor, and it just. really. hurt.

Curt was trying to put the carseat in for the new baby (wasn't going too well, I heard him let out a frustrated yell) and Mom was staring at my closet in bewilderment wondering what in the world to pack for me. If they approached me to say something I still insisted I had to stay. But they finally pulled everything together, put Reagan in the carseat, lined the passenger seat with plastic for me, and came to fetch me. Curt said we had to go to Damaris or the hospital. Life was looking pretty bleak. Either of those choices involved leaving the bed, and no immediate end in sight to the awful pain.

You can chalk it up to my prayer for strength, my super awesome wifely obedience, my lack of desire to be manhandled, or the fact that I had passed through transition into the pushing stage where contractions space out a little... but when everything was ready and they came and stood by the bed and said, "We have to go." I had a moment of inward peace long enough to get up and walk out to the van. 

When I realized I had to sit in the passenger seat I panicked again, probably yelled or shrieked some more, and said I couldn't do it. They reclined it and I laid down on my side to contract some more. There was a bottle of water between the front seats and I grabbed it and drank some; my throat was really dry and thirsty from yelling. I looked back and saw Reagan sitting in his carseat and realized we still had to drop him off at our friend's house before we could go to the birth center. Oh great. This was unbelievable. I shut my eyes and tried to close out the world. Someone handed me a pillow and it helped to clutch it to my face when I had to scream.

We dropped Reagan off and had been in the car for over half an hour, speeding along the empty highway. I don't know when it happened, but I started feeling as if my baby was actually descending into the birth canal. I reached up and felt - could it be? I felt something hard, but it wasn't perfectly round like I expected. It had a ridge. Was that the baby's head? Well, it sure wasn't a pterodactyl. I didn't tell Curt or my mom what I had felt, I just kept pushing. 

The baby was definitely coming, I could feel my insides stretching around him. I got off my side and prepared for the struggle. He was coming fast and furious, and I was scared that if I pushed as often and as hard as I had to I might not stay in tact. I had to follow my instincts about what my body could and couldn't handle. I had been praying constantly. "God please take the pain away." and "Please make me stretch." Mom told me to relax my jaw, and I did. She and Curt both reminded me to breathe and suggested I take deep breaths. I thought to myself, "I'm breathing just fine, thank you." but I did what they said anyway.

Then the miraculous happened... my body did stretch, just like it was made to. It wasn't too much or too hard, just enough to make way for a wonderful little head to come out and make me the happiest, most RELIEVED person ever. We were still on the highway somewhere in downtown Dallas. How did this happen? Was it over already?!?! could finally breathe again. The words, "His head is out." are well etched into Curt's memory. He looked over to see in the semi-darkness that his second son was indeed making his entrance into the world. So, I wasn't being melodramatic after all! I was just, you know, having a baby!  

Oh, miracle of miracles. One more push and the rest of his beautiful body slithered into my hands. It was about 3:37am. My mom was sitting behind me and she was on the phone with my nurse sister who told her to check and see if the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. It was, loosely, and she moved it. I put him to my chest and he made a little sound. "Feed him!" came the directive from my mother. (She's taken it upon herself to keep everyone warm and fed since she came to stay with us, and the new baby was no exception - hah.) There was talk of pulling over, but there was nowhere to do it and we had to get to the birth center still. 

I didn't care about pulling over, all I cared about was the small, wet body safely on my chest. I had done it, I had accomplished the impossible. I survived and he survived and everything was wonderful. No one had to cut me to get my baby out, and I felt like Eve when she said, "With God's help I have borne a son."

He wasn't crying so I rubbed him down a little bit until he made noise and showed us that he was fine. Curt called Damaris and let her know what had happened, and a short while later we were at the birth center where we got to deliver the placenta. I didn't miss my midwife at all during the labor and birth, but I was glad to have her afterwards.  

She examined me, gave me juice and fruit, made me an herbal bath, and helped keep me from passing out. She also provided the scissors for cutting the cord, which prevented me from having to chew it off - haha. I was sore, faint, and tired... but so happy. I couldn't have been more satisfied. I had gotten through the worst and longest physical pain I had ever felt and now I had my baby to hold and admire. Everything was perfect. We stayed at the birth center for a few hours until I felt less faint and then drove home with our tiny new family member.

Since we didn't have the camera with us we had to wait until we got home to take these...

I'm sooo thankful that God answered all our prayers and gave me the best natural birth ever! Some people thought I might be sad it happened the way it did, but I really don't have any regrets. Childbirth is, let's just face it, a little awkward no matter where you decide to undertake it. I will gladly take a dimly lit car in the wee hours of the morning with my husband and mother in attendance over a hospital bed under fluorescent lights with nurses and doctors I barely know running a show that can be run just as well without them. My husband's foresight in lining the passenger's seat with plastic was just the cherry on the perfect birth cake. :)

Reflections On Losing My Mommy Mind

I toyed around with a bunch of titles for this post:

"Go Sell Crazy Somewhere Else, This Mom Is All Stocked Up" (but that was stolen from a movie.)

 "Pardon Me While I Revel In Self Pity"

"When The Third Threshold of Hell Comes Knocking" 

Or maybe just simply this: 

"I Live With My Mother-in- Law" 

Let's set the stage...

I am starting to panic about Christmas.

The family get together with my husbands family is looming. I hate these. Every year I screw them up. The thing is I am not a gifter.

They are.

In addition to that I am always broke, or have been for the last few years, and so I never CAN buy stuff. So I just sit there and feel like a cheap idiot while everybody passes around gifts. I should know the drill by now but still- I never figure out anything clever or cute and creative.

Instead I usually cry and suppress anger towards my husband which sometimes boils over into fights about his mother. I know. Don't I sound fun in real life?!

But this year I am not screwing up the hubby's family Christmas bash! Oh No! Not me! I am trying to prepare early.

Have I ever mentioned that the hardest thing for me about being a housewife is that I have to ask my husband for money? This is really difficult. I might as well just urinate on my pride. What is left of it that is.

That is the background for my bad mood today.

I sleep in this morning. My son was late to school. This sucks especially because I had to talk to his principle a few weeks ago about him being late.

I am that irresponsible mom. People actually call me, "That woman with all the kids who parks her Suburban wherever she likes."

Yeah, that's me. I have been known to sneak into teacher parking.  Anyway.... He is late for school.  In addition to the fact that my four year olds favorite game is called, "pack everything up in my room, take to the living room and unpack," I also forgot to get a baby sitter for my three little girls. I was supposed to help with knitting class at my son's school.

What the heck? I can take them. My children are beacons of discipline and grace. Plus they are always quiet. People wonder if they are mute, ya know?

This was a really dumb idea of course, but I go through with it. I really hate when I am trying to help but instead I am just a distraction with all my screaming kids. That is pretty much how it played out.

Upon leaving I decide that the best thing to do now would be to go to Walmart.  (If you are reading this and you know me in real life, now you have proof enough to have me committed to a mental institution whenever you would like.  WHO does that?)

As you know, Walmart has special music that tells your children subliminally to "Scream so your parents will buy you something plastic or made of corn syrup to shut you up." 

The highlight of the trip was either when I:

A)  Called my husband and cried or 

B)  A total stranger instructed my screeching two year old to "Stop being a naughty girl and be nice for your mom!"  I didn't know if I should be grateful or offended.  I just kept walking.  

Finally I get home.  There is mail!  Mail is fun, right?

Upon picking up the mail I discover that despite the fact that I moved out of the great state of Texas three years ago they have not forgotten me. No, I have over $200 in fees for driving on toll roads. WHAT THE HECK!? I inform my sympathetic husband. They were HIS charges after all. HE was the one commuting. He shrugs.

"What are they gonna do? Arrest me?"

I reply:

"No honey. MY NAME is on the invoice, the car was registered in my name. NOT yours!  They will arrest ME!"

(Did I say honey? I was thinking of another expletive to call him by but I was told by a professional that name calling was actually not productive. FINE HONEY!)

My husband may want me in jail.  Can I blame him after they way I have been acting today?  I began the morning by getting angry at a pack rat four year old. 

I attempt to call the Texas transit people to sort things out. Of course the automated number is one of those that is voice activated. This was definitely invented by somebody who had no children and who lived in a soundproof room. Seriously one of the dumbest inventions of all time. It is in my top three.

Trying to get through the menu is endless because the baby keeps screaming. After hearing the directions no less than four times in Spanish (did the babies screams sound like she was requesting Spanish? I guess so.)

They finally just patch me over to a real person. I inform her of the situation. I didn't know it was a toll road, we moved three years ago, we don't even have that car, I swear there were NO signs, etc.

She is not sympathetic. I get transferred to a supervisor when she realizes I am not getting it. Let's just say that my tears of sorrow were not enough to soften his heart either. I was feeling pretty bad about my life at this point.

I actually blew my nose into a pair of children's striped panties right about then.  Don't worry.  They were clean.  I couldn't find a tissue.  

Blah blah blah, lots of grumping and complaining about everything.   My husband starts force feeding me B Vitamins after I try to take it out on him.  But we made it through dinner.  My hubby, whom I am ignoring by now, suggests that we go visit a sick friend for family night. 

He mentions that it might help "put things in perspective" as he gives me a holier than thou glance.  But when we arrive at our friend's house with dinner we find that he is gone.  As it turns out, he is in the hospital, so we visit him there. 

He was happy to see us.  He is sick.  He may never get better.  It certainly doesn't look good. 

And so even though I spent the day hoping that nobody would call me out on my selfish pity party, it turns out that I did need some perspective.  I often do. 

I am grateful for my family.  Especially grateful as I see a sick friend who never married or had children and might not have that opportunity in this life. 

Yes, I wish Christmas was more about Christ and less about gifts.  Yes, I will forever hate voice activated automated phone directories, and yes, my husband can be irritating when I am in a bad mood.  Still, I have a good life.  Even if people have to discipline my kids in Walmart.  And hey- the underware I blew my nose on WAS clean!  It doesn't get much better than that.

I hope you ladies have a wonderful holiday season and handle it with more grace and dignity that I will. 

Peace~

If You Are Asking My Opinion- Yes, You Need A Birth Class

In full disclosure, before I get started I should probably own the fact that I do teach natural childbirth classes for money.  (I don't make much money at it, but you deserve to know that.)  So you can take what I am about to say as just shameless self promotion and fear mongering.

~

I often hear this sentiment :

"Women have been giving birth for 1000's of years.  You don't need a class to give birth."

What is interesting about this quote is that I hear it both from medical doctors who are very intervention happy or dislike natural birth and from people planning to home birth.

At the risk of offending everybody who reads this, I have got to address this idea.  Because frankly, this just usually is not the case.  Let me tell you why.

Women HAVE been giving birth for 1000's of years-

Yes, women have been giving birth for a long long time.  The mechanisms of birth worked the same with the first birth as they do today in the modern woman- contractions, dilation, pushing, baby, placenta.  But the CULTURE of birth is constantly changing.
How many of you have attended a live birth?  How many of you have attended multiple births in person?  How many of your husbands have?

A woman a thousand years ago most likely was around birth.  She was at the births of her siblings or cousins or nieces and nephews.  She learned to help the mother after the labor.  She saw women breastfeeding.  A 1000 years ago women were actually AROUND birth.  Birth was something that really only women understood.

They didn't hide it in hospitals and close it behind a door and a cloak of mystery and fear.  It was a normal part of life.

Not only did they see it, they talked about it, supported each other in it, and had traditions surrounding it.  We have traditions surrounding birth too, but they don't do much to teach women about the actual mechanics and how to cope with birth and labor naturally.  Today when women talk about birth they talk about epidurals and pain and what they were allowed to do.  This can be wonderfully helpful in preparing you for the typical hospital induction birth.  It does not however do much to prepare you if you are planning on birthing naturally.

Women being surrounded by other women who had birthed naturally also creates a very different birth culture.  Being in a weekly class with others in your same situation and with the same goals can re-create that "birth culture" for you today.  Having a teacher who has done what you are planning a few times herself also gives you somebody to ask questions and proof that natural birth is possible, even if you don't know many people who have done it. 

A 1000 years ago women didn't birth in the hospital-

A large part of the classes I teach focuses on preparing women to navigate the hospital system.  The truth is, if you are planning on birth in the hospital and going natural, you need to really know what you are doing.  You need to know how to relax well without medications in a place where they are readily available.   You also need to be aware of the purpose and ways to avoid common interventions, drugs, and procedures in the hospital.
Women didn't have to do this 1000 years ago.  There are huge advantages to hospital birthing- but combining it with a natural approach is often tricky.  Thus the class.

And your partner?  What was he doing a 1000 years ago?

The modern woman almost always wants her husband at the birth with her.  Not only that she wants him to be involved, helpful, loving, and basically fantastic.

I don't know how to say this nice, but....good luck with that if he doesn't know a thing about birth and is scared crapless of the entire idea of something huge coming out of your vagina.

Many women are self motivated enough to learn about birth and study and practice relaxation on their own.  After all, they realize that THEY are the ones who have to give birth.  Women are often very invested in baby and the experience long before it happens.

Men a 1000 years ago were probably not part of the birth process.  But today, women expect them to be there.  If you want him to be helpful, to understand what is normal, to know what a crowning baby looks like, and to know how to do a double hip squeeze, he needs a class.

My classes focus on the partner a LOT.  If I can get dad comfortable, excited, and confident in your ability as a couple to have a natural birth, then I feel much better about the couples ability to do this.  If mom is looking forward to this and knows her stuff, but dad is scared, doesn't know why you sound like a ghost, and just wants you to get an epidural because he wants you to be helped but he doesn't know how to help you, then we have another beast altogether. 

But I am birthing at home-

I know- I still think that a natural birth class can be helpful in preparing a mom to birth at home.  There are two reasons for this.

1)  A good class won't just cover birth- it will cover preparing for a healthy pregnancy and staying low risk.  I have seen more than one home birth mama end up having a baby in the hospital because baby came early because of poor nutrition.  Some things just go wrong and can't be prevented.  But some things CAN be helped with an awesome diet.  You can learn about this on your own, but I notice that people focus more on how they are taking care of themselves when they are asked about it weekly by their friendly birth teacher.

When I ask people to keep track of everything they eat, they really pay more attention than they do just because they read something about the Brewer Diet online.  A class helps keep you accountable while surrounding you with a supportive group of women and men.

2)  Even if you birth at home, you still need to actually LABOR.  Birthing at home might prevent some common interventions, but it doesn't get you out of the work involved in birthing a baby.  I have talked to many a midwife who has home birth mamas who have no coping mechanisms in place for their birth.
Losing control is a natural part of birth- but knowing how to relax and do it well can help keep that to the normal, baby is almost here, minimum.  A mother who is very stressed out, fearful, and unfamiliar with the birth process, can have difficulty with laboring from the very beginning and throughout the entire process.  If you throw in a partner who also is freaking out, you can really change the process in a negative way.

A good birth class doesn't just talk about what happens in a chart- it teaches you how to handle it.

 ~  

 The truth is that not everyone really needs a class.  I am not going to tell you that I KNOW that you do.  But I do often see people who don't think they needed a class and it turns out they really could have benefited from the knowledge, the confidence, the time to prepare with their partner, the skill it gave their partner, and the nurturing friendships with like minded people.

One of my favorite things to see is how a couple's relationship grows in class.  They learn to rely on one another.  They learn to trust each other more.  They grow together as we discuss relationship issues that arise during the time of pregnancy.

In the end a great childbirth class really just teaches you how to tune in to what you already know how to do innately.  Then, you CAN birth more like women did 1000 years ago- naturally and with faith in your body.  

An Open Letter To The Two Year Olds Of The World

Dear Two Year Old-

I love you lots.  There are a few things I need to let you know so that our relationship can function more smoothly.  Read CAREFULLY.

~When I am telling you something important, and you look away and pretend I am no longer there, I can still see you.  And, I know you can still hear me.

~When I tell you NO I don't mean "I don't really like you," I mean, "No."  And I usually am saying it so you won't go into oncoming traffic or something like that.  No need to act like I just kicked you in the teeth.  People will think I DID kick you in the teeth.

~You may one day live in a clothing optional world.  In fact, at home, you still do.  But when we leave the house, they (meaning, pants and underwear) are required.  This is not your fault.  I think adults just hate to see somebody with a bottom so much cuter than theirs. 

~Asking you if you just went poop is not an invitation to stick your hand up your bottom and check for leftovers.  (Note to self, just stop asking this.  Dumb idea mom.)

~I know other people smile and laugh and think you are cute when you take of into the bushes or down the hall bare foot at church.  That is just because they think it is funny that I have a two year old and theirs are grown.  They don't really WANT you to do that every week.  At least I don't think so.

~I think you should know that somebody very important must really love you.  I know this because you have achieved maximum cuteness at the perfect time: maximum trouble making age.  You have no idea how well this is working.  Mama simply can't stay mad, even when you scream and act somewhat crazy.


~My offer of help is not an affront to your independence.  I love that you like to do things on your own.  Really, I do.  But I have GOT to get your seat belts on properly, and you are not quite ready to do it yourself.

~Thank you for being the only person in the house who is not only willing but offers to put the dirty cloth diapers in the diaper bin.  Oh, I wish that excitement to help with dirty nappies lasted forever!

~You are still my baby even though I have another baby.  Thank you for still loving me no matter what.  I hope that lasts forever too.

Love,

Mama