This is a blog

This is a blog.

It is not me.  It is a tiny piece of me that I filter and invite the world to see.  I do share some transparent stories.  But I don’t generally post photos of my dirty laundry or peanut-butter smeared windows.  You don’t know me just from reading this constructed mask of me. 

So may I be honest for a moment?

I have judged other mamas.  I have judged them, found them wanting, and dismissed them.  I have not always assigned positive intent.  I have made assumptions about parents based on their kid’s behavior.  Or what their kids were eating.  Or how their kids dressed.

For these actions, I am ashamed.

And I never want to make another mama feel shamed or dismissed. 

And there is a very precise hurt that comes when someone judges you by the behavior of your children.  Ask me how I know.

I remember being in a group that started attacking formula feeding.  As I looked around the room, I saw the non-lactating mamas look uncomfortable.  And I was so uncomfortable that I went to the car to feed Cedar her bottle of donated breastmilk.  I wonder if any of those mamas ever went back. 

Mamas, can we be gentle with each other?  Can we give grace?  When I see a mom melt down and yell at her kids, can I assign positive intent?  I have no idea what her day has been like.  Am I any better for waiting to yell at my kids when no one can hear me?  Am I any better for blogging mostly about my successes?

The parenting we do in public is only a tiny picture of the huge work done behind the scene.

I’ve worked in difficult careers.  Non-profit, ministry, corporate, education, and now birthwork.  None of it.  None of it compares to the difficult job of parenting.  Can we cut each other some slack?  

Please note peanut-butter smeared windows and screaming child.  And the blurred glimpse of a terribly flawed mama in the glass.

Laughing the baby out

For my sweet student who would like to laugh this time during her birth:

A Hypnobabies mama laughing while she pushes

Has anyone seen the almonds?

I have no idea what is going on in Norah’s head. 

She will be 5 in a few months. 

She has humongous break-downs when things change.  And I’m not talking about big things.  I’m talking about when her poop is flushed down the toilet.  Or when a bite is taken out of the cookie.  Or when Cedar’s hair is combed. 

She melts down.  Wailing.  Gnashing of teeth. 

Tonight.  After carefully counting that there were 17 cubes of cantaloupe on the table, she ate one.  Then immediately began crying and saying, “No!  No!  I didn’t want to do that!!  Waaaaah!  Make it come back!!” 

And a few weeks ago, I magnanimously bought her a 2.50 cookie.  It was a fancy moose.  She took one bite and then started screaming because she wanted the antler to come back.  The cookie sits untouched.

What is this?  What is this??  Anybody?

I have a bazillion pictures on my phone of bizarre things she insists on cataloguing.  Yes, I even have a picture of her poop.  Here is one she asked me to take of her spaghetti twirled on a fork which she refused to eat because it was so pretty.  She wanted me to keep it forever.  I agreed to keep it until the end of the day. 

And she hides food rather than eating it so she can “keep it forever.”  We’ve found cereal in her bed, almonds in her play kitchen fridge, a pancake in the car, a slice of pizza hidden in the fridge. 

Noelle, who works as a counselor to children, came up with the best tool.  She taught Norah to use a mental camera so she can remember things forever.  Sometimes, it prevents a meltdown. 

Ah, this 4 yr old stage has been full of challenges.  I don’t know whether to weather this one because “this too shall pass” or more actively engage in it before it becomes some bizarre eating disorder.  I’m leaning toward the weathering. 

It is coinciding with many statements like “I’m the boss of my swingset/room/toy/fill-in-the-blank and I can do whatever I want with it” and “one day I’ll be a mommy and I won’t have to listen to you.”  So I imagine it is about control.  Seems logical.

Anyone else experienced something like this?  And aren’t you relieved I didn’t post the poop pic?

What does a doula do? #3 Epidurals

What does a doula do when her client gets an epidural?

a) She picks up her aromatherapy and her rice sock and walks out the door saying, “good luck with that, sister.”

b) She orders a pizza and curls up on the couch with a fashion magazine.

c) She gets down to the business of minimizing the cascade of interventions to follow.

I hope you guessed “c.”

Most of my clients have unmedicated births.  It isn’t a bragging point.  Women who expect a natural birth, make careful decisions about birthplace/care provider, and surround themselves with a good support team easily have such a birth.  Afterall, and you may have heard me say this a time or two, birth is a normal bodily function designed to work. 

Still, epidurals happen.  They happen for various reasons.  Sometimes they accompany the not-so-natural contractions created by pitocin.  Sometimes they offer the mom a last-chance before cesarean in a long labor.  And occasionally, I have a client who plans to get an epidural but wants to wait until later in her labor.  Whatever the reason, epidurals happen.

What do I do when a client gets an epidural?

First, I watch her emotions.  Is she disappointed?  Angry?  Does she need to talk?  Maybe she doesn’t feel like talking but would welcome some pampering.  I might bring her a toothbrush or braid her hair.  Freshen the room.  Whatever the vibe, a doula’s first job is to satisfy the emotional needs of her client.

Then I usually send dad out for a break or a meal. 

And I work out a plan.  In my head; not on a whiteboard or anything!  Mobility is most crucial.  Mom needs to move into different positions regularly.  This movement will help her baby continue his rotations.  Some nurses are uncomfortable with moving mom onto her knees (forward leaning) so I carry a picture to demonstrate.  You can see in the picture here that the mom is able to drape over the bed which is almost in a complete slant.  Dad was supporting by pushing against her lower back.  When mom is in this position, I am even able to sift by standing on the bed.  I remember a nursing student walking in while I was standing on the bed sifting a client with an epidural.  She was shocked.  Curiously so.  And stayed to learn more about sifting.  In addition to moving her onto her knees, I’m also shifting her from side to side every 30 minutes or so.     

I’m also watching for her contractions to space out which sometimes happens with an epidural.  If they do, I hit acupressure points or encourage her to do nipple stimulation to get them going again.  While I’m not usually comfortable with intervening much in labor progress, all bets are off when we move into medical intervention territory.  If the epidural causes labor to stall, then pitocin will surely be introduced.  Pitocin can cause fetal distress which, of course, can lead to a cesarean.  My main goal once a client gets an epidural is cesarean prevention. 

Finally, while her birth plan may have hit a bump, I work to keep the environment woman-focused.  In my experience, it seems that the medical team acts differently with a medicated patient.  There is more chit-chat, the lights come on, the traffic increases, the door gets left open.  Nurses and doctors think they can do vaginal exams anytime they please.  She is now continuously monitored by a machine.  She has a bladder catheter, IV, and blood pressure cuff.  Even the dad can get caught up in watching the contractions on the monitor and reporting them like a sportscaster.  “Wow, did you see that one?  It was a whopper!”  I might hit the silence button on the monitor or cover it with a towel.  I’ll encourage my family to stay focused on their baby instead of turning on the TV.  Maybe I’ll do guided imagery or suggest dad could read a story out loud to his baby.  

So while it might seem my job would be easier when the epidural enters the scene, it isn’t.  Nope. 

Meanwhile, I am happy to report that none of my clients this year have had an epidural.  Call me a lazy doula but I like it that way!

Doula Work Related Injury #52

Broken blood vessels on thumbs.

Learn the Old Songs

Singing Down Baby B

I’m coming. Down out of the clouds
into the rain. I hope I’m coming straight
and clear. I hope I’m falling on holy ground,

That the people catching me are sure and loving.
I hope the people bringing me to earth
have said their evening prayers and their morning

prayers, because where I’m coming from
is made of prayers and leaves. Silk spun from mulberry is fine
but where I’m coming from is finer still.

You know those gospel singers with notes so bright
they drop, note by note, into your body?

That’s how I’m singing down into a woman
dressed in gauzy skirts next to a man whistling
to hold up. I’m the one calling down the lullabies.

I’m yours. I am your DNA gone wild with love,
I am the split second the angels take
to connect us to God, my spine the ladder
up and back.

My feet haven’t yet touched down
so learn the old songs for me
because I’ll come out dazed and start forgetting.

My eyes will gaze at you and I’ll lose
my angel sense. Sing me to ease
With an anthem from my dazzling alma mater.

Joan Logghe
 
 

Jenni’s Surprise Homebirth

I have a new birth story up.  Go read, go read!

Teasers:

“We didn’t even consider that those really were pressure waves”

“I thought that I felt something coming out… but Brandon told me it was “nothing, don’t worry about it” when I asked him what it was”

“I then kept shouting at him what time is it, what time is it.”

“I still had a hard time believing that this was not just a pregnancy dream.”

“yes you really do boil a pot of water like in all the old movies.”

What are you waiting on? Go read!

The Year after Childbirth

I’m reading The Year After Childbirth by Sheila Kitzinger.  I love this book. 

Here are a few gems from the first chapter about the first weeks postpartum:

“The ordinary divisions of time–into morning, afternoon, evening, and night, and before and after meals–have lost meaning.  In their place there seems to be a long, uncoiling, endless ribbon–feeding, changing, cleaning up, soothing and rocking and patting, starting the laundry, tidying up a bit, feeding again, bouncing the baby up and down, managing to wash yourself and pull on some clothes if you’re lucky, feeding again, carrying the baby around, drying the baby things, grabbing something to eat, picking the baby up, feeding, dashing to the shops, and then feeding again because the baby is still fretful.  There is never any point at which you can say that you have finished.”

“Some new mothers say that they did not know what tiredness was until they experienced the exhaustion that comes from straining every nerve, concentrating with set purpose on doing everything right with a new baby, while at the same time feeling powerful emotions…For the tiredness is not just a question of needing more sleep, or of trying to fit everything into a twenty-four hour day that seems suddenly to have shrunk.  The emotional intensity of becoming a mother and caring for a new baby is in itself demanding.” 

“Maternal emotions are urgent, raw.”

“For several months after birth it is normal to be in a heightened emotional state.”

“Yes, there are times when you lose all self-confidence and feel that you are a terrible mother and a failure as a woman.  But there are other times when you feel a luxurious contentment, like a cat who has been at the cream.”

Sheila Kitzinger is a social anthropologist and writes many wonderful words about women, babies, and birth.

While I love the words, Norah loves the pictures.  After flipping through the pages on our drive to the coast, she drew some detailed pictures of perineal tears and episiotomies.  Oh well.  Maybe she has a future in medical illustrations?

Why wasn’t I told?

Why wasn’t I told that convincing a small human to eat requires enormous creativity?

I am a consummate constructor of food monsters.  For some reason, known only to a toddler or preschooler, anything shaped into a monster may be eaten.  Boiled egg?  Boring!  Egg monsters?  Delicious. 

(she ate most of the egg monsters before I could take a picture)

Foods named eggs and toast?  Yesterday’s news.  Foods named “eggs in a nest?”  Something new!

Food presented on a plate?  Blah…push it around with a fork.  Food presented in an egg carton, altoid box, cupcake liner, cookie cutter, or any odd container?  Gobble it up.

The egg carton is Norah’s favorite lunchbox. 

Need some ideas for a picky little one?  I take lots of ideas from bento box themes.  Check out laptop lunch’s ideas.  I also like their photo gallery

Of course, for those truly artistic souls, aspire to true bento genius.

Happenings

I’m at the coast for much-needed leisurely pursuits before the next wave of busy time hits us.  While we shake sand from our towels and taste salt on our tongues, I cannot help but think of what waits when we return.

Here are the happenings on the horizon:

Saturday (August 28) I’ll be speaking about baby-led weaning at the monthly Blessingway.  If you’re soon-to-be-adding-solids to the baby’s menu, join us!  If you’re struggling with making baby food or spoon-feeding your little one, join us!  If you are an expert at baby-led weaning, join us!  You could maybe speak and I could maybe just listen? 

I begin a new Hypnobabies series Sept 5.  I have two spots open.  This class is a 6-week group series.

I am teaching two private classes.  One is a Hypnobabies class and then other is a Mindful Birth class.  Both go for 6 weeks. 

I have two births for September.  Both will be lovely, I am certain. 

Norah begins soccer this Thursday.  Her first team sport.  Her first sport.  I have no idea how this episode in her life will look! 

And Norah begins school.  Just one morning a week.  Still, a new responsibility and discipline.

I’m hosting a playdate at a river on Monday. 

Then the usual babywearing groups, playdates, consultations, postpartum visits, prenatals. 

I’ve heard rumors that my husband might take me to High Cotton for a hot date. 

Speaking of husband, he is doing his ritual “man-weekend” sometime in September.  I’ll be alone.  With the girls.  All.  Weekend. 

Also, have I mentioned I have a new nephew?  I really want to spend loads of time snuggling with him!

Wonder how I’ll do about keeping up with the blog?  We shall see.