Had to add another story to the blooper page today. Keeping it real.
Monthly Archives: June 2011
Next Hypnobabies Class
Registration is open for my next class. Tuesday nights beginning August 30. 6pm-9pm. 250.00 for six week class. Space is limited to five couples.
I also have a class scheduled to begin in November.
Email me for details. j_byers (at) bellsouth (dot) net.
Students becoming educators
Lately my childbirth students have been teaching medical professionals all about birthing positions.
1) A first time mama was her OB’s first natural birth. Seriously, first natural birth EVER witnessed. And my student gave birth standing up! Providing her own counter-pressure while her husband sat on the bed and held her from behind. She gave birth to an 8lb+ baby without any tearing. She said she felt her OB and nurse believed her to be a giant liability disaster waiting to happen!
The next day, her OB had lots of questions about the birth. The OB was surprised the woman did not “blow out her vagina.” OB: I’ve always supported the use of epidurals so I can control pushing and you don’t blow out your vagina. But you didn’t seem to have a problem. Mom: I had instant feedback from my body about how fast/slow to push.
2) This mom was a VBAC who never got to active labor during her induction with her first baby. And she wasn’t “allowed” to get out of bed. This time, she stayed at home and birthed 17 minutes after arriving at the hospital. She chose a hands/knees position. There was no doctor on the floor so three nurses assisted. The one catching had never done a hands/knees births. I could pick up on some anxiety about the position but mom did all the work. She made it easy for the nurses. And thankfully, they were supportive of her choice–not that I think she would have willingly changed positions at that point! The nurse passed the baby straight to mama where she snuggled skin-to-skin for over an hour.
3) A resident had only done back births. Her words: “I see that you’re pushing well on your knees. But what I like to do for natural births is break down the bottom of the bed, scootch you down and have you pull your legs back.” I wanted to ask, “Um, how is that different from medicated births?” Mom was tricked onto her back “so we can check you.” But she rolled to her side. And instinctively gave herself her own counter-pressure. This clearly made the resident uncomfortable but the mom ignored the nurse’s attempts to move her hand. I heard the attending whisper to the resident “the manuevers are the same for a side birth as a back birth.” When the resident gave me some instruction I can’t remember now, I replied, “Oh, ok. I haven’t done a back birth in a long time. The last birth I attended the mom was standing up.” Wide-eyed resident shook her head in disapproval. Sigh. I hope that one moves on to a hospital far far away.
I’m so proud of my students and other families who are changing the way birth is “managed” in the hospital. It can be a tricky place to navigate and the balance of power can be overwhelming. I think of my client who had a breech baby. While she knew cesarean was her only option in the hospital, she also insisted on delayed cord clamping and skin-to-skin contact. She made a path that other women can more easily trek.
These amazing families inform and change one birth at a time.
Never brag on the firstborn. It will bite you with the second.
Me: Girls, what would you like for breakfast?
Norah: Plain green peas, steamed broccoli, and do we have any cauliflower? Oh, mama, can I please, please, please, have an orange??
Me: Of course! Cedar, what would you like?
Cedar: Nandy.
Me: We don’t eat candy for breakfast. I’ll make you a cheesy egg.
Cedar (screaming, snorting, stomping, and maybe spitting): Nandy! Nandy! Nandy!
Why are children so different?
Play
Do you remember imaginative play? I do. I remember it with such envy. I remember getting lost for hours playing with my button collection. I still remember how I played and the names of certain families buttons. And I sometimes bring my buttons down from the attic and hold them in my hands.
I suppose that is why I can’t take enough pictures of imaginative play. I might have more pictures of abandoned toy set-ups than pics of my children!
“The adult has various means at his disposal of coming to terms with the whole range of his environment…but the path of children is and remains that of play. Simply by a staircase of games, children have reached the world of adults from time immemorial. Each step is made up of the games of a particular age-group.” –Children at Play (Heidi Britz-Crecelius)
I struggle some days with Norah’s “schooling.” She’s a December baby so she would not begin kindergarten until this fall. We homeschool. Which, at this point, mostly means she has unrestricted free play. That is the bulk of her school. I remember the year I went to kindergarten. It was half-day then. And I remember playing. It seemed like that is all we did. Sometimes we made peanut butter on saltine crackers. I don’t think kindergarten is like that anymore.
Re-centering involves reassuring yourself that you have made a good choice, that you have recognized that the true center of childhood is play, not work. After all, play is the primary way children were designed to learn…research shows that a child’s intellectual awakening takes place during the normal adult-child interactions that occur in everyday, purposeful activities…playful environments and spontaneous learning opportunities hold the keys for a happy, emotionally healthy, and intelligent child–and for a fulfilled parent. –Einstein Never Used Flashcards (Hirsh-Pasek and Golinkoff)
I hope I can stay relaxed and trust she is climbing the staircase. I need to find ways to play more, too.
Couple of things
1) The Upstate BirthNetwork website is (mostly) finished! Go on over and check it out! More importantly, spread that news to local families.
2) You may have noticed I have not updated my upcoming events in awhile. So, upcoming this week: Greenville Babywearing group meets Thursday at 6pm. At Natural Baby.
3) I have a spot open in my upcoming Hypnobabies class. The class filled so quickly and then this one little spot has stayed open. Just waiting for the right couple to fill it! Class begins June 14 so don’t wait too long…
4) I’m am completely, 100% fully booked for doula clients this year. But I am super-duper happy to doula-match you with your perfect mate. Call me the doula pimp. Ok, not really. That was just some sort of weird tough talk. I never pull that off well.
5) Finally, and this is exciting, the three upstate babywearing groups are adopting The Parenting Place teen mom program. We’re collecting used wraps or 6-yrd fabric lengths to be distributed to the moms-to-be. I get to train their in-home staff so they can teach the moms how to wear their babes. Bring your donation to a group meeting or drop off at Natural Baby. For fabric lengths, we suggest jersey knit, crinkle gauze, or muslin. We have group member who are willing to sew or serge the edges if needed. We only need 25 wraps to start. We are also collecting used slings, pouches, and mei-tais to donate to the young moms served by BirthMatters in Spartanburg. You may also drop these at Natural Baby.
Sometimes it feels so nice to simply make a list. I almost want to put check-boxes beside each item.
I need to make a form
I need to make a form. It is a simple form.
Once upon a time, before I had children, I worked a grown-up job. With other grown-ups. Not only did I create forms, I often created manuals, or training seminars, powerpoint presentations, budgets, grants. I supervised others. I attended business meetings. I wore heels.
And oh, I could think. I had such free time to think. What a luxury. And if I had a problem, I called a team together for an assessment.
Now. Now. I just need to make a form. A simple “check-out” form for a lending library. Good grief. It needs lines. And a header that says “Lending Library.” Yet the effort and brain power required to make said form seems overwhelming.
Am I losing my edge? What if I need to re-enter the workforce someday? Will my brain return when I live again with the grown-ups?
Because I’m not so sure. These children, these children can bring me to the edge of insanity. Consider yesterday.
Cedar wakes at 4am. I bring her to my bed. She takes her diaper off at some point and then pees in the bed. We’re late for babywearing group, so I feed them a cereal bar and an apple in the car. But first, Cedar poops right after I strap her in the carseat and start to back-out. Go inside house. Change diaper. Return. Begin to back-out and Norah shouts, “WAIT!!!!” After jumping out of my skin, she begs for me to go inside the house and get her magna-doodle. I grumble words about responsibility but secretly remember I’ve forgotten my ipod. There is a podcast sermon about love I want to listen to.
We back out of the drive-way. It is 9:30am.
At babywearing, Cedar picks a fight with Gretchen and with Ivey. Norah gets mad because she didn’t get to talk to her “grown-up” friend who I have FINALLY figured out is Coral. “You never let me see who I want to see and now I want to go see Nanoo (Laura).” Inside the library, the girls read some books until finally we have to go and Cedar collapses in the floor screaming in resistance. I hurriedly leave carrying the writhing child. Once outside, Norah announces she needs to potty. We go to the bathroom where Cedar tells me she has pooped. Again. I have to change her standing up in a stall.
It is noon.
I get home and leave the car running because Cedar is asleep. I run inside and make Norah and myself some lunch. I sit on the front steps so I can see Cedar. Norah decides she wants my food. I sigh. I make myself more food. Sit. And Norah needs me to start her DVD. I flip my lid a little. Speak irrational words about why can’t you just try to do it yourself and then ask for help? Mommy needs a break. Just a little tiny break. Norah tells me I need to eat some protein.
I’m trying, dear girl. I’m trying. It is 1:30.
Cedar wakes. I feed her. We go to the grocery store. Minor antics. No major meltdowns. Hoorah!
A postpartum mama calls while I’m unloading groceries. I put the frozen things away and then let the girls play in the yard while I talk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cedar–naked–chasing a cat into the neighbor’s yard. Where are her clothes? I say good-bye to postpartum mama. Collect my children. Find Cedar’s clothes which are scattered under the apple tree.
At some point, there are baths. Not one for me, of course. I also remember a rather large fight between the girls. Involving yogurt throwing. And it was after the bath.
For dinner, I decided on egg carton meals.
Scott gets home in time to put Norah to bed. Cedar goes down easy. This time. So thankful for that mercy.
I treat myself to a gorgeous plate of cheese/crackers/cherries/cottage cheese/peaches/blueberries and a glass of riesling. I deserve it. Scott has a bowl of cereal.
Now. Why can I not access the part of my brain required to make a simple form???!!!
I’m whining, I know. These days are beautiful and fleeting. But I certainly do not feel I’m getting smarter or even wiser.
Inexplicable Ways 