Today marked a nationwide nurse-in at national retailer Target.. an effort driven by a nursing mother being asked to use the dressing room at a Houston, TX Target and then being made to feel humiliated by the store employees after declining. This nurse-in has ellicted an enormous amount of debate from both sides of the discussion.
Myself, living in Washington state, the right to nurse in public is sanctioned by state law. The law deems that any place that a woman is allowed, she has the legal right to nurse there as well. Having nursed four children I can personally attest to having nursed in malls, restaurants, parks, coffee shops, churches, airports, to name a few. My nursing experience has spanned over thirteen years and I have been incredibly fortunate to never have been on the receiving end of a negative comment.
Shouldn't nursing mothers cover up? Opponents claim that nursing is "ok" only when done in private or when a mother is covered. One point is "why should they have to?". State law does not include this provision and many nursing babies will not tolerate having their heads covered. If we apply this same logic, that a show of breasts is indecent, why then can my children see billboards for Victoria Secret's models with more of their breasts showing in small lingerie than most nursing moms show? Why is it then Ok and acceptable for ads such as these to be marketed in general public areas, but not socially acceptable for a fraction of skin to be seen on a nursing mother?
You can breastfeed in the bathroom/car. Would you like to eat your lunch in a public restroom? I know I wouldn't. I try to avoid them whenever possible as they tend to be fairly gross. Should my child have to eat that way? No, of course not. I prefer not to have my meal next to someone who is voiding their bowels or changing their tampon. Dressing rooms can be a great option... for myself, if I happened to be out with any other children, this option was not reasonable. Could you picture me in small dressing room, baby on the breast with three other children crowded into there as well? Pretty laughable.
How about the car? Not everyone owns a car or sometimes weather conditions make car nursing unfavorable (too hot/too cold). It's not feasible to leave a car running for 30 minutes with the A/C or heater running when one could be inside instead.
Feed your baby before you leave home. Good try on that one. Many Moms *do* feed their babies before leaving the house. Does that mean that said baby isn't going through a growth spurt and needing to nurse more often? Does that mean he or she may not get hungry before the trip is over? Babies, when hungry, need to eat. They do not understand waiting and their needs deserve to be met. It's fairly simple. I get hungry sometimes while out running errands... and you know what? I grab a snack.
Don't leave home. In who's reality is this in?? This isn't the 1950's and I have no desire to be cooped up. Sometimes I have errands to run that cannot wait.. prescriptions to be picked up, groceries, doctors appointments, so on and so forth. Sometimes, like anyone else, I like to get out of the house "just because". It's healthy and can be refreshing. Life happens and continues, babies are part of life.. eating is part of life.. one can then assess that babies eating are part of life. You get the picture.
Bring a bottle/pump milk to bring with you. I know some mothers who weren't comfortable with public nursing and this was a great option for them. Other Moms, like myself, are another story. My children would not take a bottle. Ever. At all. Not to mention, had they been willing, if we had to be out for an extended period of time and I provided a bottle in lieu of nursing, I would have experienced pain and engorgement from the missed nursing session. Especially in the beginning, when supply is being established, this could be detrimental to some mother's milk supply. With my first baby, this would have resulted in a blouse soaked in breastmilk (yes, even with wearing nursing pads). Which is more embarassing?? Nursing or me participating in a "wet t-shirt contest"?? Or how about my nursing in a public area versus not and subsequently developing mastitis, becoming incredibly ill and not being able to adequately care for my children while I recover from the world's worst "flu"? I personally will elect for the former and risk offending someone as a result of concern for my health, as well as my child's.
Women who nurse in public are selfish/only want attention/are disrespectful of others. In short, get over yourselves. When Moms nurse their babies, in public or elsewhere, they are doing it for the benefit of their bub. In an ideal society, nursing would be so normal that no one would even bat an eye at seeing a nursing mom and baby. The last thing most women want is to draw attention to themselves... regardless of this, they also recognize the needs of their child to eat supercede this and that attention may be drawn in some way. I was always Ok with this. My child comes first...his/her needs and physiological needs are more important than the potential of unwanted attention or the fact another may be uncomfortable about my child's method of eating. I may be uncomfortable with seeing 300 lb men with their shirts off at the lake, but hey- I just don't chose to look. Whatever.
There are many, many more arguments that have been put out there, but that's the sum of it.. put simply, however, is that regardless of one's opinion on whether or not women *should* nurse in public or *how* they should do it or an opinion on what an acceptable arbitrary age may or may not be, the fact of the matter is that the LEGAL right to is protected by state law in many states, such as Washington and Texas. That simple point is not up for debate and opinions on the should's and should not's are moot in these cases.
How about this? In a nation where diabetes and obesity are astronomically on the rise, especially in our young children, why wouldn't we want to support Moms out there who work to give their children what's both nutrionally normal and best? Kudos to every Mom out there who does this... and to those who continue to fight for the rights of other mothers and children.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
Seven years ago, we were expecting our third baby. His estimated "guess" date was December 26th, however having had babes #1 and #2 at 38 weeks, I was sure he'd come well before that. Staying true to the old tale that third babies are the wild card, he decided to stay put.. content to stay nestled in mama's body.
December 23rd brought many contractions... up to four minutes apart, without intensifying. I grew tired and frustrated. Christmas evening, following a wonderful family dinner, I stayed up trying to encourage some contractions by doing some pressure points. I would get some feeble ones that would peter out as soon as I stopped. I went to bed frustrated and moody.
Forty-five minutes later or so, a contraction woke me up slightly.. just enough I needed to breathe through it. My husband was still awake and commented that it must have been good to have woken me up. They continued to come sporadically and would change depending on the position I was in. Lying on my side, they were too intense and uncomfortable. Sitting didn't feel good and standing was better... if I sat on the toilet, they would never stop coming. I called my midwife at 5am who encouraged me to go back to sleep, sounding skeptical that it was "it" based upon the irregular pattern. My daughter, 6 at the time, woke up and helped me to take a bath and change clothes. At 6am I woke the household..if we weren't going NOW, we weren't going at ALL.
Walking out just to the car was a challenge and everytime a wave would come I would have to hold onto someone.. in the car, a mere ten minute drive from the freestanding birth center, I had a contraction that peaked three times. I recall yelling at my husband to slow down to which he replied that he couldn't as he was already going 25 mph in a 35 zone.
My midwife was there when we arrived, the birth center warm and cozy and the tub was being filled. The room was dimly lit was small candles, bathing the room in a soft, inviting light. I remember sinking into the bliss of the warm water, melting into it... it felt amazing. A large pressure was growing in my back, however, and it was hard to get comfortable. Before I knew it, my body was pushing down on it's own.. "Wait! I'm not ready" and began tensing my bottom... knowing that was counter-productive, I began to blow through loose lips like a camel, making it difficult to fight the urge. I began to listen to my body and push down.. "Is he posterior?" I asked, wondering if the back of his head was against my back, thus causing all the back pressure. I was told, no- they didn't think so as I continued to work.. within minutes the top of his head was visible along with the announcement that yes, he was definitely posterior (mamas know, I tell you!). Born up to his ears, I reached down and could feel his left ear.. it was so surreal- this was my baby!
Resting between contractions, he started to "bounce" as if trying to speed things up and work to get himself out. A big strong push, hands reaching down, and my little baby boy was in my awaiting hands, brought up onto my chest. My sweet, new boy didn't cry... his lower lip pouted out, as if in protest, and started to quiver. It was a peaceful, amazing birth.
Two hours later we were home, nestled into bed..content and undisturbed, just as it should be.
Happy Birthday, sweet Jaiden.
December 23rd brought many contractions... up to four minutes apart, without intensifying. I grew tired and frustrated. Christmas evening, following a wonderful family dinner, I stayed up trying to encourage some contractions by doing some pressure points. I would get some feeble ones that would peter out as soon as I stopped. I went to bed frustrated and moody.
Forty-five minutes later or so, a contraction woke me up slightly.. just enough I needed to breathe through it. My husband was still awake and commented that it must have been good to have woken me up. They continued to come sporadically and would change depending on the position I was in. Lying on my side, they were too intense and uncomfortable. Sitting didn't feel good and standing was better... if I sat on the toilet, they would never stop coming. I called my midwife at 5am who encouraged me to go back to sleep, sounding skeptical that it was "it" based upon the irregular pattern. My daughter, 6 at the time, woke up and helped me to take a bath and change clothes. At 6am I woke the household..if we weren't going NOW, we weren't going at ALL.
Walking out just to the car was a challenge and everytime a wave would come I would have to hold onto someone.. in the car, a mere ten minute drive from the freestanding birth center, I had a contraction that peaked three times. I recall yelling at my husband to slow down to which he replied that he couldn't as he was already going 25 mph in a 35 zone.
My midwife was there when we arrived, the birth center warm and cozy and the tub was being filled. The room was dimly lit was small candles, bathing the room in a soft, inviting light. I remember sinking into the bliss of the warm water, melting into it... it felt amazing. A large pressure was growing in my back, however, and it was hard to get comfortable. Before I knew it, my body was pushing down on it's own.. "Wait! I'm not ready" and began tensing my bottom... knowing that was counter-productive, I began to blow through loose lips like a camel, making it difficult to fight the urge. I began to listen to my body and push down.. "Is he posterior?" I asked, wondering if the back of his head was against my back, thus causing all the back pressure. I was told, no- they didn't think so as I continued to work.. within minutes the top of his head was visible along with the announcement that yes, he was definitely posterior (mamas know, I tell you!). Born up to his ears, I reached down and could feel his left ear.. it was so surreal- this was my baby!
Resting between contractions, he started to "bounce" as if trying to speed things up and work to get himself out. A big strong push, hands reaching down, and my little baby boy was in my awaiting hands, brought up onto my chest. My sweet, new boy didn't cry... his lower lip pouted out, as if in protest, and started to quiver. It was a peaceful, amazing birth.
Two hours later we were home, nestled into bed..content and undisturbed, just as it should be.
Happy Birthday, sweet Jaiden.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Busy bee!
This past month has felt a little on the hectic side. At the end of October I began the last class needed as a pre-req for midwifery school- a course I had happened to take years and years ago that had been disrupted by an illness. My resulting C in the class wasn't adequate so I had to take it once again. Thinking it would merely be review was an understatement and the need to "review" an entire textbook on Anatomy and Physiology, learn it all, take two midterms and a final, all via a distance course in the span of a short time, was a little overwhelming. Wait, I lie- it was utterly stressful.
A little more than a week into November saw a beautiful birth followed by a trip to Portland that next week- an important trip! My interview for midwifery school. I would like to say that it went well, but it's so hard to tell. What makes it even harder was that the following day, at a meet and greet, I met other women who were applying and I must say that the competition is harsh!
I have had my regular school classes going on, as well, in addition to kids and work. Needless to say, I am happy November is over and we are well into December! This past week I finished A&P and have ordered my transcripts (they have to be received by 12/31), finishing the class with a B+. Not too shabby considering I did it in about five weeks! Now it's a waiting game until sometime next month, to find out how much they like me...
In the meantime, I have an article coming out in March in the spring Midwifery Today issue. It's about my thirteen year breastfeeding journey... I am incredibly excited. I also am available for births from now through March... I can see nothing better than starting the new year with welcoming some new lives into this world and hopefully receiving news that I will be able to begin my path into midwifery later that year!
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Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Welcome, baby W!
Ahhhh... there aren't many things better than seeing a new, beaming family and getting to hold a sweet, newborn baby, fresh out of the package!
Friday, November 11, 2011
Birthin' Babies
Driving home tonight the moon was big and full breaking through the one clear part of the sky.. so golden that it looked like an egg yolk sitting in sea of whispers of clouds.. quite a beautiful display considering our cloudy Pac Northwest skies that one gets accustomed to. Sometimes it's hard to remember that there are clear moons and skies full of stars out there.
More women are said to go into labor on full moons... today also is 11/11/11 which is estimated to be a big day for babies being born due to planned inductions (don't get me started on that one..). I, however, had the honor just a few nights ago to attend a beautiful, spontaneous, out-of-hospital birth... it's births like that that manage to take my breath away. Mama working to birth her baby out of her own power and strength... surrounded by those who love, respect and care for her. No one demanding anything, or yelling at her..no one threatening her with procedures or arbitary time frames....baby never leaving mama or a set of arms that love him/her. Just respect and reverance for her body and it's ability to know how best to birth her baby. That's how it is truly meant to be.
I was just thinking, on my drive home looking at the pregnant moon, about the first birth I ever attended. I was four years post-doula training (never imagining that I'd actually doula when I took the class). I had a good knowledge base about pregnancy and birth, but felt useless at the birth. In retrospect, I worked hard.. I was sore for a few days afterwards, having been contorted between a tub and a dresser to support Mom. Never the less, it reminded me of how critical one can be of themselves... I always wonder "did I do a good enough job?", "is there something I could have done better/different?", "did I add value as the doula or did I just feel like an extraneous person?". It seems like these questions are always easy to answer when I provide a very active, physical role in the birth (doing massage, counterpressure, rebozo work, holding Mom, etc) as opposed to when Mom just needs someone to hold the space, assure her all is normal, give encouragement and supportive words and offer gentle suggestions.
Sometimes, however, that's all that birthing women need... and they will forever remember that kind, encouraging words were spoken to them in their most vulnerable moment. One thing I will always remember is while pushing my youngest son out, my midwife saying "You know how to do this" almost in a whisper. She was right.. I did and those words echoed through my brain, giving me the encouragement I needed. It was nothing to her... just a small phrase, but something I will always remember~ someone believed in me, believed in my body and trusted in my ability to trust myself. Things like that are invaluable... and hoping in some small way I can do the same for other women as they birth their babies.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
End of and era..
I have blogged multiple times about breastfeeding... I always knew that it was something I wanted to do, though I can't recall any specific reasons as to why. I don't remember having a lot of real life examples, other than the four months my Mom nursed my sister and seeing one aunt nurse my cousin for a bit. It just seemed to be what was supposed to be done and I did not go into it with any preconceived notions as to what it would be like, other than I wanted to go a year per the AAP's recommendations at the time.
When I gave birth to my first child, I was not prepared for the obstacles that I would face in wanting to nurse her. At the hospital, I remember seeing notes that our nursing sessions were merely "fair", though no one offered to help me. She was born on a Monday evening, we were home on Wednesday and my milk came in on Thursday~coincidentally the same day her jaundiced decided to worsen. My baby would not wake up to nurse and I was engorged with no form of relief in sight. The following day a visit from a nurse confirmed the increased jaundice and the fact that it makes babies lethargic. She patiently worked with me to encourage my little one to latch on, with no success and left me with a quality breastpump, a control flow bottle and instructions to pump often and continue to offer the breast. I was devastated, thinking my daughter would never nurse. A week later, after a grueling time of offering her the breast, pumping, "forcing" her to drink an ounce here and there from the bottle, she finally latched and our nursing journey began.
My first baby nursed until she was 2 1/2 years old...way longer than I ever expected or even fathomed would be "normal". When she weaned, it was her decision to stop and it was gentle and perfect.
Fast forward almost ten years later to the birth of my fourth and final baby. She had been preceeded by her two brothers, who both latch on like hungry barracudas following their births up until they weaned at two and two and a half, respectively. Despite being a drug-free homebirth, she was a struggle to latch on and we battled for several weeks to establish an effective breastfeeding relationship. This past year, now three years later, she has not grown any less fonder of her "nah-nah's" and would have been content to nurse all day should I let her.
I am sad to say, she and I effectively weaned a few weeks ago. She still wants skin to skin time with me, placing her soft cheek on my breast and going to sleep. It feels strange, knowing that this part of my life is over, though I knew it would be one day. This, just short of my oldest's thirteenth birthday, thus entering me into a new era (of having a teenager...eek!). Despite the challenges, the sore nipples and blisters, the nights where I would have a toddler who would want to stay latched all through the night, the loss of having my body to myself, smelling like sour milk, soaking shirts and sheets and having to pay more attention to what I put into my body, I can honestly say that every moment of it was worth every single bit.
Worth it to gaze down and see a sleepy baby's milky smile looking back at me... worth it every time I could ease a boo-boo or bad dream or even the trauma of a shot or a blood draw with mama's milk... worth it knowing that I gave my all to give my children the best that *I* could do for them in this way... worth it knowing that all my other children, as well as my stepchildren, had the chance to see nursing as a normal part of life and hopefully impacting them to do the same for their own children.
I close this chapter with a sense of both sadness, joy and a feeling of accomplishment.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Labor Support
I love being a doula.
Back in 2001, I took the Labor Support Course for Birth Doulas at Seattle Midwifery with none other than the amazing Penny Simkin (author of the Birth Partner, among other things). At the time, I was 9 weeks pregnant with my second child; the tools I learned were invaluable as I birthed my son unmedicated with a midwife at a birth center. Two years later, I attended my first birth as a doula for a dear friend and have been hooked ever since.
Don't get me wrong... the work is hard and labor intensive. I have walked away from births and found myself sore for days later. On top of lack of sleep, time away from family, the challenges of being on call.. there are definite challenges present. What makes up for it is when you have a Mom look into your eyes for reassurance that everything is going Ok.. when you can do something to ease the intense sensations that result from labor and birth... when you watch that tiny, new baby slip into this world and see the look of pure exaltation and joy on a mother's face as her newborn is layed on her chest. It is almost as if you can see the veils lift between heaven and earth to let that new little life through. It is amazing.
Up until now, I have done just a few births here and there each year. This year so far will be my busiest yet, with four births. I have made the decision to start regularly offering both birth and postpartum doula services. Helping moms, babies and new families has been my passion (as anyone could likely see from reading this blog) and it's about time I started doing something I love more often.
My business, Babymoon Birth Services, has been created to support families in the Whatcom County area. Offering birth doula services... as well as offering postpartum services such as care for other children, running errands, housework, helping with new baby... I am excited for this new venture!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Who does birth belong to?
I have been pondering this question as of late, for several reasons. All too often in the birthing community I have heard birth workers, whether it be midwives, doulas, physicians, whomever, refer to the birthing women with a sense of ownership. When birth workers begin to use phrases when speaking of the birthing women they serve and the word "my" enters into the conversation (MY client, MY first/tenth/one hundredth birth, etc), a shift occurs. Birth is no longer quite belonging to that woman and her baby, rather that practitioner is assuming a piece of ownership.
Why should this be a problem? The birthing community wants women to take back their pregnancies, births and babies into their own hands. In order for this to happen, full ownership and responsibility needs to be given to these women. Without this, we will continue to hear the same dis-empowered phrases: "My doctor won't let me....", "My midwife made me...", "I can't...". Choices will continued to be made out of fear, rather than from a place of knowledge and empowerment. I believe this slippery slope, of birth being owned not by the mother, is what has led our society down the road of an over thirty percent cesarean section rate, the induction epidemic and rising maternity costs.
The United States continues to see abysmal maternal and infant mortality rates, despite our high health care costs and sophisticated technology. Fear of litigation rules many ways that practitioners chose to care for birthing women, rather than using evidence-based care. Women are scared into inductions with horror stories about how they are putting their babies at risk by continuing their uneventful, low-risk pregnancy. Failed inductions, a result of one's body and/or baby not being ready to birth, force healthy women into major surgery to birth their babies, resulting in a feeling of failure or as if their body is somehow "broken". Who owns these scare tactics? Certainly not birthing women.
What would our world look like if, in return, women were provided autonomy of choice? If homebirth was not something out of reach for many women due to state laws or lack of insurance coverage? What would it look like if birth workers said "what do YOU think?" or "How do YOU feel about x,y, z?" rather than forcing their own views? What kind of society could we build if women were treated with love, respect and reverence through the process of building their families? Might we see, in return, that same reverence relayed back onto the child that they birth, contributing to a kinder, gentler world?
It starts right here. Any woman I serve (birth work is an act of servitude) does not belong to me; her birth is not mine to claim or own. I am hers to support in any decision, regardless of the choice she makes and whether or not what she decides would have been my own choice or not. In doing so, her birth remains her own; something she does in her own power and is responsible for. An act she will never forget and can feel a sense of pride and honor over.
Change begins with all us. Who does birth belong to? It belongs to women.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Oh my... not the BOOBIES!
When I began nursing my firstborn just a little over 12 years ago (Happy birthday, baby girl!) I never would have imagined that in 2010 we would still be hearing drama over something so simple as nursing and nourishing our children. Over the past several years, stories have circulated about women's pictures of them nursing their children have been deleted on facebook accounts (this was an occurrence on My Space a few years back, as well). The images are being cited as inappropriate, violating the terms of service and *wait for it!* pornographic.
Hold up! At what point did our backwards society get so far up their own rear ends to think that a normal, basic act such as feeding an infant is inappropriate, let alone pornographic? When God, the Universe, or whomever, created women it was seen fit, as mammals, that we should have breasts. On these breasts are these amazing things called nipples. Nipples are surrounded by a darkened area called the areola. An amazing invention this was! The areola provides a darker contrast against lighter skin to help guide small babies as to where the goods are. Baby takes in the nipple plus areola and the miracle of milk flows, filling baby's tummy. Here I am, at a loss again... inappropriate? Offensive? X rated?!
Moms on social networking sites, such as facebook, have been continually fighting back. Personally, I have at least 3 photos on my facebook account that show my daughter nursing. I take pictures of daily life such as the kids playing at the park, why wouldn't I also document another normal, daily experience? This past week, an event on facebook was created (Facebook "Nurse-In") with the idea to relay back to facebook that there is nothing obscene about nursing children. This event has been up less than a week, was deleted on day two (and subsequently magically reappeared a day later) and the numbers are up to about 7,500 users banded together to support one another, smile and compliment one another's beautiful photos, provide encouraging words and advice.
Taking part of this "nurse-in" this past week has not only put a new fire in my belly to continue to work for the rights of breastfeeding Moms and babies, but it has also made me think. Imagine extrapolating a group like that into every day life? Where a mother would feel comfortable nursing in a restaurant and instead of getting dirty looks, she would get smiles. Where women who are pregnant or newly postpartum have an expanded network of support to encourage and help them during those tough newborn days and weeks when many women are apt to give up. I know by posting my own pictures (and my albums are private for friends only) that I am telling my network of friends that this is something that is part of my daily life. As a result, I know any one of them know if they had a question or needed help with breastfeeding that I am there as a support tool.
If our daughters regularly witnessed breastfeeding as a normal life event, think how much more likely they would be to nurse their own babies and so on and so forth. Imagine how many babies lives could be saved by breastmilk across the world.. imagine the decrease in health care costs... babies with larger immune defenses who get sick less often.. imagine low-income Moms providing their babies with food their bodies make for free and not having to solely rely on WIC to feed their babies... imagine those same Moms not being forced to water down that formula to stretch it out long enough to be able to get more..
This is so much more than just a desire to show our breasts in a non-sexual manner. It's a battle to show society that breastfeeding is a normal, every day act. To show that breasts were made to feed babies, not Nestle (if you ever have a chance, google Nestle boycott). It is a battle to normalize something so very simple... the feeding of babies. What's so wrong with that?
In the meantime, I am happy to do my own part to keep up the fight so that one day facebook will start deleting the actual inappropriate content consistently being posted (in a simple 2 minute search on the site, I found actual pornographic material) and allowing the display of moms feeding their babies.
Kudos to every single Mom out there.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Great expectations
It is summer at last here in the Pacific Northwest...a highly anticipated time where the gloomy rain clouds dissipate and are replaced by sticky humidity and clear blue skies. I couldn't be happier. It also appears to be a season of change. Pattygirl is about to turn two in a few days. I can't believe it has been that long since I held my sweet girl in the confines of my safe womb, nervously excited for her to make her entrance into this world and be my first and only homebirthed baby. She is fiercly independant, yet a momma's girl still. Her vocabulary is growing daily and she cracks me up now by knowing who certain pop stars are like "gaga" and "boom boom" (black eyed peas). She still nurses and shows no sign of wanting to slow down yet and with her being the last of my babies I am in no big hurry to kick her off the boob quite yet.
Speaking of pattygirl's birth, I recently got word that her birth story will be published in the Fall issue of Midwifery Today. In addition, a poem I wrote for Kayla will be published, as well. Change number 2- I will technically be a published writer. It makes me wonder what else I may be able to write.. I don't venture to assume anything as big as a book, but maybe random articles or stories that I could submit to parenting and mothering magazines and perhaps earn some extra cash? Who knows.. we'll see if anything comes to me and I have the guts to send it in. Submitting a piece of work that has come straight out of one's soul is gutwrenching and nerve wracking.
Change 3 is a new position at work. Yep, after 3.5 years in my current position I finally got promoted. I had hoped to move forward long before, but things always change, hiring freezes happen, maternity leave occurs, etc. At this point I am grateful and happy for the new opportunity and welcome change.
Change 4 is I am going to be an auntie. In a few ways, really. One of my dearest friends is expecting her first baby this fall and I have the honor of attending her homebirth as a doula and witnessing her transformation into a mother. She has attended my last two births and I am excited to return the favor. I also can't help but to delite in her choice of birth... knowing that I had a small smackeral of influence in her knowledge about birth and her being able to witness the labor and birth process uniterrupted and in it's natural, normal form when she saw Jaidy quietly slipped into this world in a tub of warm water by candelight and Ava hollar her way out at home on a hot summer's night.
My own sister is having a baby this fall, as well... it is heartbreaking to me to know that I will not likely ever see my nephew because of the relationship between us.. that she won't let me be there for her and value my experiences as a four time mother and woman who has spent the last 10 years engrossed in everything birth, attending conferences, births of friends, education seminars, etc etc. It terrifies me that she will likely become victim to the machine of the hospital birth system.. where one out of three women "can't" birth vaginally, a large majority of women are induced or augmented, pain relief meds are given as if they are skittles and have no adverse affects on mom or baby.. where food and drink are denied, movement and noise are seen as taboo, where moms are expected to push uphill on their backs fighting gravity rather than using it to their benefit. I sincerely hope the best of for her and her new family.. sadly, she will probably never know this and it's not like she'd read this blog anyways...
Anyhow.. now that I have managed to make myself sad and weepy I am up and off to take the kids to the park to enjoy the amazing weather we have upon us. To let them dip their toes in the water, play in the sand and be free to run around, giggling and being silly.
Change is good.
Speaking of pattygirl's birth, I recently got word that her birth story will be published in the Fall issue of Midwifery Today. In addition, a poem I wrote for Kayla will be published, as well. Change number 2- I will technically be a published writer. It makes me wonder what else I may be able to write.. I don't venture to assume anything as big as a book, but maybe random articles or stories that I could submit to parenting and mothering magazines and perhaps earn some extra cash? Who knows.. we'll see if anything comes to me and I have the guts to send it in. Submitting a piece of work that has come straight out of one's soul is gutwrenching and nerve wracking.
Change 3 is a new position at work. Yep, after 3.5 years in my current position I finally got promoted. I had hoped to move forward long before, but things always change, hiring freezes happen, maternity leave occurs, etc. At this point I am grateful and happy for the new opportunity and welcome change.
Change 4 is I am going to be an auntie. In a few ways, really. One of my dearest friends is expecting her first baby this fall and I have the honor of attending her homebirth as a doula and witnessing her transformation into a mother. She has attended my last two births and I am excited to return the favor. I also can't help but to delite in her choice of birth... knowing that I had a small smackeral of influence in her knowledge about birth and her being able to witness the labor and birth process uniterrupted and in it's natural, normal form when she saw Jaidy quietly slipped into this world in a tub of warm water by candelight and Ava hollar her way out at home on a hot summer's night.
My own sister is having a baby this fall, as well... it is heartbreaking to me to know that I will not likely ever see my nephew because of the relationship between us.. that she won't let me be there for her and value my experiences as a four time mother and woman who has spent the last 10 years engrossed in everything birth, attending conferences, births of friends, education seminars, etc etc. It terrifies me that she will likely become victim to the machine of the hospital birth system.. where one out of three women "can't" birth vaginally, a large majority of women are induced or augmented, pain relief meds are given as if they are skittles and have no adverse affects on mom or baby.. where food and drink are denied, movement and noise are seen as taboo, where moms are expected to push uphill on their backs fighting gravity rather than using it to their benefit. I sincerely hope the best of for her and her new family.. sadly, she will probably never know this and it's not like she'd read this blog anyways...
Anyhow.. now that I have managed to make myself sad and weepy I am up and off to take the kids to the park to enjoy the amazing weather we have upon us. To let them dip their toes in the water, play in the sand and be free to run around, giggling and being silly.
Change is good.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Spring!
I love spring. There is just something amazing about watching the world re-birth itself. Trees and flowers blooming, fresh produce in abundance, the warmth of a long-missed sun... nothing compares.
My kids have started their own little garden. So far they have started growing dill, basil, rosemary, green onions, chives, chamomile, zucchini, thyme, peas and wild flowers. They have plans to start some tomatoes soon along with a "salad bowl" (a pot filled with spinach, argula and spring greens). Today, while sitting outside enjoying the spring sun, and admiring the sprouting zucchini an idea for a recipe hit me. I think it was a total win and wanted to share it!
Zucchini banana bread:
2 cups whole wheat flour
pinch of salt
1 tsp baking soda
--combine in a bowl, set aside
2 overripe bananas, mashed
one medium zucchini, finely shredded
1/4 cup butter melted
2 eggs
1 cup of sugar
1 TB vanilla extract
generous sprinkle of cinnamon
Mix the above ingredients well together, followed by adding the flour mixture. Place in a greased bread pan at 350 for about 40-50 mins or until an inserted knife comes out clean.
Simple, easy and it tasted amazing! The kids loved it too. You could easily cut the sugar amount down too. The bread is sweet and I imagine a good way to do it, as well, would to substitute vanilla yogurt for the butter (a container's worth) and cut the sugar down to 2/3 or maybe even half. Nevertheless, it was my first made up baking recipe and I was quite proud!
At this moment I have a zucchini gratin baking in the oven that I can't wait to dive into (or as Jaidy would call it, "bikini"). Ahhhh, spring tastes amazing!
My kids have started their own little garden. So far they have started growing dill, basil, rosemary, green onions, chives, chamomile, zucchini, thyme, peas and wild flowers. They have plans to start some tomatoes soon along with a "salad bowl" (a pot filled with spinach, argula and spring greens). Today, while sitting outside enjoying the spring sun, and admiring the sprouting zucchini an idea for a recipe hit me. I think it was a total win and wanted to share it!
Zucchini banana bread:
2 cups whole wheat flour
pinch of salt
1 tsp baking soda
--combine in a bowl, set aside
2 overripe bananas, mashed
one medium zucchini, finely shredded
1/4 cup butter melted
2 eggs
1 cup of sugar
1 TB vanilla extract
generous sprinkle of cinnamon
Mix the above ingredients well together, followed by adding the flour mixture. Place in a greased bread pan at 350 for about 40-50 mins or until an inserted knife comes out clean.
Simple, easy and it tasted amazing! The kids loved it too. You could easily cut the sugar amount down too. The bread is sweet and I imagine a good way to do it, as well, would to substitute vanilla yogurt for the butter (a container's worth) and cut the sugar down to 2/3 or maybe even half. Nevertheless, it was my first made up baking recipe and I was quite proud!
At this moment I have a zucchini gratin baking in the oven that I can't wait to dive into (or as Jaidy would call it, "bikini"). Ahhhh, spring tastes amazing!
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Midwifery Today conference
I think I perhaps may be the worse blogger in the world... for one, I constantly forget that I have this outlet here to rant, rave, ooooh and ahhhh.. and second I often wonder if anyone ever actually reads a smidgen of anything I write on here. Anyhow... either way I am back to muddle up cyberspace with more of my blabber.
This past weekend I had an amazing opportunity to go the Midwifery Today conference in Philadelphia, PA. I previously had gone to this same conference 4 years ago and found it to be utterly amazing. This time was no different. I decided to take my two daughters with me and turn it into a girls only trip. We arrived at our hotel at 1am Friday morning after 12 hours worth of traveling. I had to be up by 7am for the all day conference... man, was mama tired!
Being a birth junkie, I can't describe how amazing it is to be in the room with the likes of Elizabeth Davis, Ina May Gaskin and Michel Odent. I guess one can compare it to a football fanatic having a chance to chat with Jerry Rice or Joe Montana. Michel Odent's session on alternative methods for pain relief was nothing short of fascinating. He spoke a lot about the physiological process and how pain plays a factor in labor along with the cascade of hormones and endorphins. It makes sense when put in the perspective of how one can't remove one peice of a puzzle and then still expect for all the others peices to fit together to create the same picture. It just doesn't work! Friday evening we were treated with the most beautiful birth film I have yet to see called Le Premier Cri (The first cry). This film was a montage of highlights of births across the world, including a water birth with dolphins!
The highlight on Saturday was a workshop with Janice Marsh-Prelesnik on expressive arts. This was such an incredibly fun time... singing, dancing and creating works of art with other beautiful women. Lunch was spent with a table of more amazing women... I had the opportunity to chat with several student midwives, a nurse-midwife, as well as lunch with Ina May Gaskin herself. That evening was the cabaret.. 2 hours of more songs, dancing, poetry and a hilarious play put on by Naoli Vinaver and Michel Odent. I some how got the nerve to read the two poems I had wrote about Kayla's birth. It was incredibly scary, but at the same time it was comforting to share such personal peices of me with a room full of supportive and powerful women--doulas, midwives, childbirth educators, birth advocates and more.
The girls had a great time... and I came back home refreshed and ready to get into gear with moving things forward--creating a plan to be able to start midwifery school (hopefully when Ava turns 3) and pursuing some other exciting opportunities in the birth community. I can't wait!
This past weekend I had an amazing opportunity to go the Midwifery Today conference in Philadelphia, PA. I previously had gone to this same conference 4 years ago and found it to be utterly amazing. This time was no different. I decided to take my two daughters with me and turn it into a girls only trip. We arrived at our hotel at 1am Friday morning after 12 hours worth of traveling. I had to be up by 7am for the all day conference... man, was mama tired!
Being a birth junkie, I can't describe how amazing it is to be in the room with the likes of Elizabeth Davis, Ina May Gaskin and Michel Odent. I guess one can compare it to a football fanatic having a chance to chat with Jerry Rice or Joe Montana. Michel Odent's session on alternative methods for pain relief was nothing short of fascinating. He spoke a lot about the physiological process and how pain plays a factor in labor along with the cascade of hormones and endorphins. It makes sense when put in the perspective of how one can't remove one peice of a puzzle and then still expect for all the others peices to fit together to create the same picture. It just doesn't work! Friday evening we were treated with the most beautiful birth film I have yet to see called Le Premier Cri (The first cry). This film was a montage of highlights of births across the world, including a water birth with dolphins!
The highlight on Saturday was a workshop with Janice Marsh-Prelesnik on expressive arts. This was such an incredibly fun time... singing, dancing and creating works of art with other beautiful women. Lunch was spent with a table of more amazing women... I had the opportunity to chat with several student midwives, a nurse-midwife, as well as lunch with Ina May Gaskin herself. That evening was the cabaret.. 2 hours of more songs, dancing, poetry and a hilarious play put on by Naoli Vinaver and Michel Odent. I some how got the nerve to read the two poems I had wrote about Kayla's birth. It was incredibly scary, but at the same time it was comforting to share such personal peices of me with a room full of supportive and powerful women--doulas, midwives, childbirth educators, birth advocates and more.
The girls had a great time... and I came back home refreshed and ready to get into gear with moving things forward--creating a plan to be able to start midwifery school (hopefully when Ava turns 3) and pursuing some other exciting opportunities in the birth community. I can't wait!
Friday, November 13, 2009
Mother Jugs
Ahhhhh... breastfeeding. Nutrition, love and comfort all rolled up into one. I have a love/hate relationship with it. As my oldest daughter turned 11 last week, that makes almost 12 years straight of either being pregnant and/or breastfeeding. Some of my most precious memories are of nursing my children... a 4 mos old baby Kayla gazing up at me, milk dribbling out of her toothless smiling mouth... minutes old TJ latching onto my breast like a famished barracuda... Jaiden gazing up at me as he stroked my face, looking full of wonder... Ava making "mmmmmm" noises as she fills her tummy full of mommy's sweet milk. It's absolutely mind blowing to me how our bodies are able to create, carry and birth an human being and then make food to sustain it's life once on the outside. Coming home from an exhausting and hectic day at work nothing is better than curling up on my bed with my baby to nurse, the rush of oxytocin surging down into my toes to relax me into waves of love and contentment.
Then there's the flip side... nipples sore and tender from a teething baby who thinks nipples are their own personal toy for abuse... babies who think that the "big mama's" are there to be their own personal pacifier to ease into sleep... heaven forbid it be taken out of their mouth, and let's forget that they are attached to Mom! Then we have babies who believe that the nipple currently not being used is there solely for their personal entertainment while nursing on the other side... fisher price never knew that such an amazing toy existed, none other than a mommy's nipple! We have big babies wanting to nurse while standing up with their butts in their air and twisting their torso's, babies who try to look around and turn their heads-nipple still in mouth, of course... we then have toddlers who, when attempting to wean them, lie in bed screaming "help me, mama! Help me!" and even worse are the toddlers unwilling to latch correctly and therefor putting Mom into a human meat grinder.
Ahhhh... mommyhood. For now, I have to sign off... I have a demanding 16 mos old clawing at my leg while throwing her head back and wailing. Must be nah-nah time.
Then there's the flip side... nipples sore and tender from a teething baby who thinks nipples are their own personal toy for abuse... babies who think that the "big mama's" are there to be their own personal pacifier to ease into sleep... heaven forbid it be taken out of their mouth, and let's forget that they are attached to Mom! Then we have babies who believe that the nipple currently not being used is there solely for their personal entertainment while nursing on the other side... fisher price never knew that such an amazing toy existed, none other than a mommy's nipple! We have big babies wanting to nurse while standing up with their butts in their air and twisting their torso's, babies who try to look around and turn their heads-nipple still in mouth, of course... we then have toddlers who, when attempting to wean them, lie in bed screaming "help me, mama! Help me!" and even worse are the toddlers unwilling to latch correctly and therefor putting Mom into a human meat grinder.
Ahhhh... mommyhood. For now, I have to sign off... I have a demanding 16 mos old clawing at my leg while throwing her head back and wailing. Must be nah-nah time.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Nature versus nurture....
It's the classic debate, biology vs environment... being a step-parent, this debate takes a different flavor all together.. what makes a mother? Is it genetics? Or is it being there through good times and bad, teaching and loving and nurturing? Being there when the children are sick, taking them to doctor's appointments, hugging them when hearts are broken or buying a new dress for their first dance.. the answer to me, tends to be blantantly obvious. In the words of my incredibly wise, then 5 year old stepson, "A mother gives birth to you, a Mommy takes care of you".
It's easy to take the road of not being present when convenient, being checked out so to speak and then appearing like magic when things are easy to claim the glory... I don't need a monument in my honor. My own personal glory is etched in the love I get in return... catching my first "step" granddaughter into my hands to give her to her mother's waiting arms at her birth, listening to my son play a son in my honor on his guitar that he learned because he knows I love it, my other son referring to me as "the only mother he knows". In this cases biology is just that... the study of cells, which in the scheme of life's importance have little meaning.
"How long do you wanna be loved?? Is forever enough 'cause I'm never never giving you up...."
It's easy to take the road of not being present when convenient, being checked out so to speak and then appearing like magic when things are easy to claim the glory... I don't need a monument in my honor. My own personal glory is etched in the love I get in return... catching my first "step" granddaughter into my hands to give her to her mother's waiting arms at her birth, listening to my son play a son in my honor on his guitar that he learned because he knows I love it, my other son referring to me as "the only mother he knows". In this cases biology is just that... the study of cells, which in the scheme of life's importance have little meaning.
"How long do you wanna be loved?? Is forever enough 'cause I'm never never giving you up...."
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Songbird
"For you, there'll be no more crying,
For you, the sun will be shining,
And I feel that when I'm with you,
It's alright, I know its right
And the songbirds are singing,
Like they know the score,
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before"
All of my babies have been "assigned" songs... special songs that Mommy can sing to them that have special significance. For Kayla, it is "You are so Beautiful" by Joe Crocker and "Somewhere out there" by Linda Rodstant. When she was about two we would sing "You are so beautiful" together... it is only really a few lines long and repeats itself so it was easy for her to sing... later on I gifted her with a carousel horse my dad had given me as a child that played "somewhere out there"... she was so in love with the horse and the song that it was added to our collection.
For TJ, when I was pregnant I had bought a Disney lullaby cd and played it quite a bit, even putting headphones on my belly. After he was born I discovered that if I hummed one of those tunes, he would calm down almost instantly. As a result, his songs became "Baby Mine" and "Dream"... to this day if he is upset or sick he will ask me to sing "Baby Mine".
Jaiden's song is "You are my Shining Star"... he frequently asks to hear it and is thrilled when we listen to it on my iPod in the kitchen while he is helping me cook.
Ava has "songbird" by Fleetwood Mac... it is so sweet and fitting. Rodney has bestowed his own Daddy song onto her.. "Unforgettable" and that song soothes her when we play it for her.
So, here you go, Kayla bear... the answer to your question in my last post. :-)
For you, the sun will be shining,
And I feel that when I'm with you,
It's alright, I know its right
And the songbirds are singing,
Like they know the score,
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before"
All of my babies have been "assigned" songs... special songs that Mommy can sing to them that have special significance. For Kayla, it is "You are so Beautiful" by Joe Crocker and "Somewhere out there" by Linda Rodstant. When she was about two we would sing "You are so beautiful" together... it is only really a few lines long and repeats itself so it was easy for her to sing... later on I gifted her with a carousel horse my dad had given me as a child that played "somewhere out there"... she was so in love with the horse and the song that it was added to our collection.
For TJ, when I was pregnant I had bought a Disney lullaby cd and played it quite a bit, even putting headphones on my belly. After he was born I discovered that if I hummed one of those tunes, he would calm down almost instantly. As a result, his songs became "Baby Mine" and "Dream"... to this day if he is upset or sick he will ask me to sing "Baby Mine".
Jaiden's song is "You are my Shining Star"... he frequently asks to hear it and is thrilled when we listen to it on my iPod in the kitchen while he is helping me cook.
Ava has "songbird" by Fleetwood Mac... it is so sweet and fitting. Rodney has bestowed his own Daddy song onto her.. "Unforgettable" and that song soothes her when we play it for her.
So, here you go, Kayla bear... the answer to your question in my last post. :-)
Monday, April 20, 2009
Reasons I love being a Mom...
The last few days have been trying and tiresome, so I thought I would focus on some happy things..
1) Patty-baby's deep belly laugh, it could melt anyone's heart
2) Contests on who loves who more
3) "girl time" with Kayla
4) The Incredible Hulk
5) first word's being "mama"
6) children that love me enough that they supported me during the hardest part of laboring with their sister
7) Jaiden's sillyness
8) TJ's affection
9) Kayla's master macchiato making
10) bath time
11) sour milky baby breath
12) "Baby Mine", "you are my shining star", "somewhere out there" and "songbird"
13) pile-on Mommy's bed, aka co-sleeping
14) bread baking with Kayla
15) bed jumping
16) excited springtime smiles
17) sloppy, slobbery kisses
18) sibling loveys
19) fat cheekies
20) dancing in the kitchen
21) afternoons in the park
22) bedtime stories
23) sleepy heads on Mommy's shoulder
24) silky baby skin
25) goodnight kisses
1) Patty-baby's deep belly laugh, it could melt anyone's heart
2) Contests on who loves who more
3) "girl time" with Kayla
4) The Incredible Hulk
5) first word's being "mama"
6) children that love me enough that they supported me during the hardest part of laboring with their sister
7) Jaiden's sillyness
8) TJ's affection
9) Kayla's master macchiato making
10) bath time
11) sour milky baby breath
12) "Baby Mine", "you are my shining star", "somewhere out there" and "songbird"
13) pile-on Mommy's bed, aka co-sleeping
14) bread baking with Kayla
15) bed jumping
16) excited springtime smiles
17) sloppy, slobbery kisses
18) sibling loveys
19) fat cheekies
20) dancing in the kitchen
21) afternoons in the park
22) bedtime stories
23) sleepy heads on Mommy's shoulder
24) silky baby skin
25) goodnight kisses
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Baking babies
Can I vent for a moment here? (oh ya, of course I can... 'tis my blog and no one cares a lick about what I say anyways...)
When I want to bake a batch of peanut butter cookies of which I know are my hubby's favorite, I know a few things are certain- I know what ingredients to include such as peanut butter, flour, sugar, butter, etc. I know what setting to place the oven on and how long to bake those cookies to make them come out absolutely perfect, moist and chewy. Yum!
However... those are cookies, and though I may have to adjust things slightly, say if I am using a different oven or trying out a completely different recipe, otherwise the equation remains the same. Why is it that people assume our babies are like cookies??
Babies are not bake-sale goods, people.
Once upon a time there was this doctor. And like all doctors, he was nosey and decided to graph down when a group of about 500 women spontaneously went into labor. He thus concluded that the average timeframe was 40 weeks. Wow, exciting. What did that mean?? Well, nothing really. I could have a group of ten women in the room and state that the average age of said women is 30, but have none of those women actually be 30. That's the funny thing about averages and assumptions. Going forward, future physicians took this number and ran with it. And here we have our magical number, our baking babies at 350 for 40 weeks, whether or not they may be done.
I frequently hear women make statements such as "I *had* to be induced", "I couldn't go into labor on my own", "Little Davey just wouldn't come out on his own", etc. Let's be honest here, people.. it makes me want to knock them upside their heads. When did it become "normal" to assume that women's bodies won't or can't go into labor on their own? When did it become "normal" to assume that this average that was came up via a small sample of women needs to apply to everyone... that 40 weeks is our magic cookie done time?? (Let's not even get into the discussion about the likelihood of increased possibility of c-section which poses it's own set of risks-increasing the rate of primary c-sections which in itself drives the c-section rate up for subsequent pregnancies with the lack of careproviders supporting VBACs..another subject, another day).
Let me tell you an ancient secret... listen up, as it is pretty profound. Babies come. They really actually do. Whether or not you eat an entire pineapple or dance on your head. Babies come whether you ate that eggplant parmesean and douched it down with basil and oregano. Babies come regardless of the magical date *YOU* circled on the calendar. They come. They really, honestly do. Placentas, as well, do not have a magical expiration date on them. That's right! At 40 weeks or 41 weeks or even 42 weeks they do not spontaneously combust.
Now, let me place a disclaimer on this... this is not to say there are not circumstances where a chemical induction is valid... pre-eclampsia or IUGR, for example... those are some situations where there may be a valid necessity to get the baby out, rather than wait for the timer to go off on it's own. However, this should be our exception.. and definitely not the rule.
Put your timers and calendars away, Mamas... let your babies bake.
When I want to bake a batch of peanut butter cookies of which I know are my hubby's favorite, I know a few things are certain- I know what ingredients to include such as peanut butter, flour, sugar, butter, etc. I know what setting to place the oven on and how long to bake those cookies to make them come out absolutely perfect, moist and chewy. Yum!
However... those are cookies, and though I may have to adjust things slightly, say if I am using a different oven or trying out a completely different recipe, otherwise the equation remains the same. Why is it that people assume our babies are like cookies??
Babies are not bake-sale goods, people.
Once upon a time there was this doctor. And like all doctors, he was nosey and decided to graph down when a group of about 500 women spontaneously went into labor. He thus concluded that the average timeframe was 40 weeks. Wow, exciting. What did that mean?? Well, nothing really. I could have a group of ten women in the room and state that the average age of said women is 30, but have none of those women actually be 30. That's the funny thing about averages and assumptions. Going forward, future physicians took this number and ran with it. And here we have our magical number, our baking babies at 350 for 40 weeks, whether or not they may be done.
I frequently hear women make statements such as "I *had* to be induced", "I couldn't go into labor on my own", "Little Davey just wouldn't come out on his own", etc. Let's be honest here, people.. it makes me want to knock them upside their heads. When did it become "normal" to assume that women's bodies won't or can't go into labor on their own? When did it become "normal" to assume that this average that was came up via a small sample of women needs to apply to everyone... that 40 weeks is our magic cookie done time?? (Let's not even get into the discussion about the likelihood of increased possibility of c-section which poses it's own set of risks-increasing the rate of primary c-sections which in itself drives the c-section rate up for subsequent pregnancies with the lack of careproviders supporting VBACs..another subject, another day).
Let me tell you an ancient secret... listen up, as it is pretty profound. Babies come. They really actually do. Whether or not you eat an entire pineapple or dance on your head. Babies come whether you ate that eggplant parmesean and douched it down with basil and oregano. Babies come regardless of the magical date *YOU* circled on the calendar. They come. They really, honestly do. Placentas, as well, do not have a magical expiration date on them. That's right! At 40 weeks or 41 weeks or even 42 weeks they do not spontaneously combust.
Now, let me place a disclaimer on this... this is not to say there are not circumstances where a chemical induction is valid... pre-eclampsia or IUGR, for example... those are some situations where there may be a valid necessity to get the baby out, rather than wait for the timer to go off on it's own. However, this should be our exception.. and definitely not the rule.
Put your timers and calendars away, Mamas... let your babies bake.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Dedication: The Prequel
My stepbabies:
When my husband and I met he was 11 years older than me, divorced with full custody of his 3 children (ages 3, 7 and 8 at the time). He made no comments to me at any point that when/if we were to marry that he'd like me to act as his children's mother, and I would say I had no pressure to do so. When we married I told the kids they were welcome to call me whatever they would like (as long as it was respectful). So if they wanted to continue to call me "Janelle" then that was totally ok. Within a month's time, I was "Mommy".
This is not to say that I have or had ever replaced their "real" mother. I don't think that could ever be possible, nor did I expect that.
Being a step-parent... well, it's damn hard and I think the only ones who truly understand that are the ones that have played that role. You contend with children that first realize they are not biologically connected to you and who long to have a connection with their biological parent (despite how close you may be)... when you arrive on the scene you are not molding a newborn baby, rather you are thrown into the loop with already molded minds that are used to certain ways, forms of discipline, rules, etc.
I believe that there were times when my stepkids appreciated my presence. Their dad had funny rules that I quickly put an end to. One, was the "no drinking until you finish your food" rule. I had taken B, my stepdaughter, out to lunch one day. While we sat waiting for our food I sipped my iced tea while she eyed her root beer. "B, you know you can drink that right??".. "Daddy doesn't let me before I finish my food". Me *eye roll*: "Uh... well, you know that you can always get a refill if you drink it all". Her eyes lit up... and thus I ended the silly drink rule. Othertimes it was blaringly obvious that B, the only daughter, had not had a woman's presence around in sometime. She was surprised to see that grown women had "hair down there" and didn't know you needed to place a toilet seat cover on the toilet in a public bathroom. When I gave birth to K, she was shocked and confused to see me breastfeed the new baby.
In no way have I been perfect, though.. in the early days I was quick to lose my temper and yell and easily stressed. I have vastly improved over the years to everyone's relief and have almost lost my "sailor mouth" entirely. However, I have always loved those three little hooligan's no matter what.
B, with her sassy-frassy mouth and attitude.. we would frequently bond over "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and our homemade late-night Mexican food creations. She has assisted me the last two times I have given birth, acting as a doula of sorts. Just 15 months ago I had the honor to assist her in ushering in her first baby, a sweet daughter, whom was birthed into my hands while she baptized my bare feet in a rush of amniotic fluid. I have watched B grow from an uncertain, mouthy girl to a beautiful young woman and mother. Now I have a chubby faced granddaughter to watch grow, as well.
Jr.. he is definitely his own creation. He has a passion for knowledge and a big forgiving heart. I think and worry about him daily and anticipate the day when he matures into the responsible young man that I know is waiting inside of him. These days he is into music and has found a skill for playing the guitar. He recently called up proudly to annouce he could play "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac, knowing that is one of my favorite groups and songs.
J.. my baby boy. My first baby boy, that is. When he was 4 he spent the night at my house one night and ended up sick, throwing up all over my living room floor. I did what my mother would have done for me.. bathed him and put him into my bed (much to his father's disappointment for the night ahead...). As we cuddled up together he said to me, "Danelle??" (he could never say the Ja).. "Me: "Yes, baby?", J: "Are you going to marry my daddy??", Me: "I hope so".. J: "Good, I have always wanted a Mommy". *insert aaaaaawwwwws and tears here* Despite the fact he is an ownry, arrogant, pigheaded and egotistical almost 16 year old (that is putting it lightly.. the boy is definitely full of himself!!) he still holds a special place in my heart and reminds me of that sweet little guy who would stroke my hair while asking me to marry him. Today he loves singing and is involved in a myriad of choir activities along with being an excellent football player. I know the future holds great things in store for him.
So, there we go... my kiddos. All 7 of them. Motherhood and life holds many challenges and obstacles, but they all definitely make it worthwhile.
When my husband and I met he was 11 years older than me, divorced with full custody of his 3 children (ages 3, 7 and 8 at the time). He made no comments to me at any point that when/if we were to marry that he'd like me to act as his children's mother, and I would say I had no pressure to do so. When we married I told the kids they were welcome to call me whatever they would like (as long as it was respectful). So if they wanted to continue to call me "Janelle" then that was totally ok. Within a month's time, I was "Mommy".
This is not to say that I have or had ever replaced their "real" mother. I don't think that could ever be possible, nor did I expect that.
Being a step-parent... well, it's damn hard and I think the only ones who truly understand that are the ones that have played that role. You contend with children that first realize they are not biologically connected to you and who long to have a connection with their biological parent (despite how close you may be)... when you arrive on the scene you are not molding a newborn baby, rather you are thrown into the loop with already molded minds that are used to certain ways, forms of discipline, rules, etc.
I believe that there were times when my stepkids appreciated my presence. Their dad had funny rules that I quickly put an end to. One, was the "no drinking until you finish your food" rule. I had taken B, my stepdaughter, out to lunch one day. While we sat waiting for our food I sipped my iced tea while she eyed her root beer. "B, you know you can drink that right??".. "Daddy doesn't let me before I finish my food". Me *eye roll*: "Uh... well, you know that you can always get a refill if you drink it all". Her eyes lit up... and thus I ended the silly drink rule. Othertimes it was blaringly obvious that B, the only daughter, had not had a woman's presence around in sometime. She was surprised to see that grown women had "hair down there" and didn't know you needed to place a toilet seat cover on the toilet in a public bathroom. When I gave birth to K, she was shocked and confused to see me breastfeed the new baby.
In no way have I been perfect, though.. in the early days I was quick to lose my temper and yell and easily stressed. I have vastly improved over the years to everyone's relief and have almost lost my "sailor mouth" entirely. However, I have always loved those three little hooligan's no matter what.
B, with her sassy-frassy mouth and attitude.. we would frequently bond over "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and our homemade late-night Mexican food creations. She has assisted me the last two times I have given birth, acting as a doula of sorts. Just 15 months ago I had the honor to assist her in ushering in her first baby, a sweet daughter, whom was birthed into my hands while she baptized my bare feet in a rush of amniotic fluid. I have watched B grow from an uncertain, mouthy girl to a beautiful young woman and mother. Now I have a chubby faced granddaughter to watch grow, as well.
Jr.. he is definitely his own creation. He has a passion for knowledge and a big forgiving heart. I think and worry about him daily and anticipate the day when he matures into the responsible young man that I know is waiting inside of him. These days he is into music and has found a skill for playing the guitar. He recently called up proudly to annouce he could play "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac, knowing that is one of my favorite groups and songs.
J.. my baby boy. My first baby boy, that is. When he was 4 he spent the night at my house one night and ended up sick, throwing up all over my living room floor. I did what my mother would have done for me.. bathed him and put him into my bed (much to his father's disappointment for the night ahead...). As we cuddled up together he said to me, "Danelle??" (he could never say the Ja).. "Me: "Yes, baby?", J: "Are you going to marry my daddy??", Me: "I hope so".. J: "Good, I have always wanted a Mommy". *insert aaaaaawwwwws and tears here* Despite the fact he is an ownry, arrogant, pigheaded and egotistical almost 16 year old (that is putting it lightly.. the boy is definitely full of himself!!) he still holds a special place in my heart and reminds me of that sweet little guy who would stroke my hair while asking me to marry him. Today he loves singing and is involved in a myriad of choir activities along with being an excellent football player. I know the future holds great things in store for him.
So, there we go... my kiddos. All 7 of them. Motherhood and life holds many challenges and obstacles, but they all definitely make it worthwhile.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Dedication, Part 4
Ava~
Or otherwise affectionately known as "patty-baby".
Ava is my fourth baby... my homebirthed baby. She was born at home on a relatively cool July evening. That morning I was woken early with pressure waves that continued on well into the evening before finally producing my 9 lb 13 oz ball of sweetness 18 hours later. Born just 13 minutes shy of my grandmother's 75th birthday, patty-baby was welcomed into this world straight into her Daddy's hands. The room was filled only with people who loved her.
Ava was named a good two years before she was born. Though I seriously doubted that I would have another baby, let alone another girl, one day K and I were discussing baby girl names. "Ava" somehow came up, though K liked "Ava Rose" whereas I said if I had another girl I would like her to have my middle name. Where did "Patty" come from? Well, being my biggest baby I started calling her fatty patty. (I mean, seriously, she could fit into her newborn clothes for about 5 minutes and I couldn't even use the newborn cloth diapers I had bought her!). Fatty Patty eventually changed and now she is called anything from patty-baby to pattycakes to pretty patty or some days just plain patty.
Nowadays we have a very active 9 month old. She is constantly into anything and everything. She crawls like a maniac, pulls herself up on almost anything she can... even the wall! She has discovered her shadow on the wall and we laugh as it looks like she is trying to kiss it. She can say "Mama" to my utter delight. Best of all, she has a smile that will melt any heart. Her smile is amazing... she looks so happy and innocent and when she laughs it comes from deep down in her belly.
Our pretty, pretty Patty... the last chapter in our family, now complete.
Or otherwise affectionately known as "patty-baby".
Ava is my fourth baby... my homebirthed baby. She was born at home on a relatively cool July evening. That morning I was woken early with pressure waves that continued on well into the evening before finally producing my 9 lb 13 oz ball of sweetness 18 hours later. Born just 13 minutes shy of my grandmother's 75th birthday, patty-baby was welcomed into this world straight into her Daddy's hands. The room was filled only with people who loved her.
Ava was named a good two years before she was born. Though I seriously doubted that I would have another baby, let alone another girl, one day K and I were discussing baby girl names. "Ava" somehow came up, though K liked "Ava Rose" whereas I said if I had another girl I would like her to have my middle name. Where did "Patty" come from? Well, being my biggest baby I started calling her fatty patty. (I mean, seriously, she could fit into her newborn clothes for about 5 minutes and I couldn't even use the newborn cloth diapers I had bought her!). Fatty Patty eventually changed and now she is called anything from patty-baby to pattycakes to pretty patty or some days just plain patty.
Nowadays we have a very active 9 month old. She is constantly into anything and everything. She crawls like a maniac, pulls herself up on almost anything she can... even the wall! She has discovered her shadow on the wall and we laugh as it looks like she is trying to kiss it. She can say "Mama" to my utter delight. Best of all, she has a smile that will melt any heart. Her smile is amazing... she looks so happy and innocent and when she laughs it comes from deep down in her belly.
Our pretty, pretty Patty... the last chapter in our family, now complete.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Dedication, part 3
The Incredible Hulk:
Aka Jaiden. My beautiful 4 year old boy. Jaiden was our surprise baby. When I found out I was pregnant with him I had just been accepted into midwifery school. TJ was just shy of 2 years old and still nursing, and the last thing we'd expected was another baby. Within the first week I ended up in the ER with extreme pain on my left side. Having quite a history of endometriosis, most especially that affected my left side, I was not surprised when it was announced to me that my pregnancy was ectopic. Or rather they assumed it was. No baby could be seen on the ultrasound though they assumed by my beta HCG levels they should have been able to see something, and there was fluid around my left ovary, a visible corpus luteum, and fluid around my uterus. I was admitted into the hospital. That morning the on-call dr left me know that the radiologist could see a small 5 mm area where the lining was thicker, that it may be the baby however they were not certain. She recommended dissolving the pregnancy via methotrexate. We, however, were not convinced. If there was a small chance our baby was viable, we would rather not risk it. We decided to go on a "watch" and return for testing. She adamently disagreed with us... 5 ultrasounds later a gestational sac could be seen.. in my uterus, safe and sound. We were elated, and thus began our Jaiden.
Jaiden was born on his due date at a freestanding birth center with a midwife. He was born in the tub and caught into Mommy's hands. When he was born he did not cry, merely he pouted his lower lip in protest. Despite his posterior birth, he was born easily after 7 1/2 hours of labor.
Nowadays he is a *very* active 4 year old. He recently has decided he is The Hulk. Yes. The Incredible Hulk. He runs around the house, half naked growling "Don't Make ME ANGRY!!!!". The flexes his "muscles" and Grrrrr's and Arrrgh's and jumps off of furniture.. he has had a few nasty Hulk injuries, but such is the life of a superhero, I suppose. His loves include superhero cartoons, playing Anarchy with his daddy on-line, fruits and veggies of all sorts and yogurt.
When not being the Hulk he loves to say "Mommy, tell me I'm your kitty..", And despite the need to further put off midwifery school, a long time dream of mine, I would not change it for the world. This sweet, little ball of craziness makes it all worth it.
Aka Jaiden. My beautiful 4 year old boy. Jaiden was our surprise baby. When I found out I was pregnant with him I had just been accepted into midwifery school. TJ was just shy of 2 years old and still nursing, and the last thing we'd expected was another baby. Within the first week I ended up in the ER with extreme pain on my left side. Having quite a history of endometriosis, most especially that affected my left side, I was not surprised when it was announced to me that my pregnancy was ectopic. Or rather they assumed it was. No baby could be seen on the ultrasound though they assumed by my beta HCG levels they should have been able to see something, and there was fluid around my left ovary, a visible corpus luteum, and fluid around my uterus. I was admitted into the hospital. That morning the on-call dr left me know that the radiologist could see a small 5 mm area where the lining was thicker, that it may be the baby however they were not certain. She recommended dissolving the pregnancy via methotrexate. We, however, were not convinced. If there was a small chance our baby was viable, we would rather not risk it. We decided to go on a "watch" and return for testing. She adamently disagreed with us... 5 ultrasounds later a gestational sac could be seen.. in my uterus, safe and sound. We were elated, and thus began our Jaiden.
Jaiden was born on his due date at a freestanding birth center with a midwife. He was born in the tub and caught into Mommy's hands. When he was born he did not cry, merely he pouted his lower lip in protest. Despite his posterior birth, he was born easily after 7 1/2 hours of labor.
Nowadays he is a *very* active 4 year old. He recently has decided he is The Hulk. Yes. The Incredible Hulk. He runs around the house, half naked growling "Don't Make ME ANGRY!!!!". The flexes his "muscles" and Grrrrr's and Arrrgh's and jumps off of furniture.. he has had a few nasty Hulk injuries, but such is the life of a superhero, I suppose. His loves include superhero cartoons, playing Anarchy with his daddy on-line, fruits and veggies of all sorts and yogurt.
When not being the Hulk he loves to say "Mommy, tell me I'm your kitty..", And despite the need to further put off midwifery school, a long time dream of mine, I would not change it for the world. This sweet, little ball of craziness makes it all worth it.
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