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Time for a retreat!

It is only when we silence the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of the truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts.

~ K.T. Jong (via Kingfish Komment)

Some time around November each year for the last three years, I’ve had a feeling of being “sped up” in my life and a desperate craving of stillness and rest. I begin to feel like pulling inward, “calling my spirit back” and re-integrating fragmented parts. Aside from my family members, I stop feeling like being “of service” to others and their interruptions of my space or requests for my time or attention begin to feel like impositions. I begin to hear the distant call to “retreat.” I crave stillness, rest, and being alone. I fantasize about broad expanses of silent time in which to think and plan and ponder. It then takes me until February to actually act on this urge. So, as of today, I now begin my annual week of retreat. In the past, I’ve done a computer-off retreat. This year, it is a Facebook-off retreat. I keep returning to the persistent feeling of having my life/brain full of digital noise/clutter and envision taking a sabbatical from the constant, hyperactive flow. My good friend wrote a blog post about her decision to take a FB break and that was the last little nudge I needed to take a break myself. The night before reading her post, I’d gone to bed thinking, “any day in which I think, ‘I didn’t have time to XYZ,’ but I DID check FB, is a day that I lied to myself.” I have a somewhat conflictual relationship with Facebook—in most ways I love it and in some ways I feel like it fosters a false sense of connection with others. I do love that it helps me keep up with and maintain real connections with real friends and with long distance family. I also appreciate the way it “smallens” the gap between people and I appreciate the opportunities it offers me to network. And, I appreciate how I am able to use it to support, encourage, and connect with other women I may never meet—it broadens my reach and impact. Finally, I most definitely appreciate it when someone shares one of my blog posts via Facebook! A good deal of my site’s traffic over the last year has come from Facebook.

Digital noise

What I wish to disconnect from it is ALL the digital “noise” in general—FB, email, e-newsletters, free Kindle books, etc.—all the requests for my time and attention. A lot of it originates from Facebook. I’ve mentioned before how if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t even know about all the stuff I wasn’t doing–instead, it contributes to this false sense of urgency and immediacy about staying “caught up” with everything and everyone.

I still have to teach and parent, so this isn’t a full retreat, but I am taking this FB break. Yesterday, I deleted my FB apps and prepared to take a rest to focus on CREATING rather than consuming. Upon reflection, I realized it sounds like I mean I want to create digital noise, which isn’t what I mean. Though, I do want to spend more time writing blog posts and articles, so I guess that is kind of ironic. Also, I recognize that it is kind of annoying when people make big announcements/declarations about how they are QUITTING FACEBOOK, but I still feel compelled to explain it… ;-D I didn’t delete my account, just the iPhone/iPad apps that make it so easy to check in often. I’ll reinstall them when I’ve had at least a week of mental space. I value the connections I have via FB and don’t want to lose that, but I need some time away to re-clarify my boundaries. I also need to go on a fan page deleting spree as I am a fan of more than 500 pages. ;-D I need QUIET! Space in my head to hear myself think.

Past retreats

On February 1, 2010, the first year I took a personal retreat (this one was a computer-off retreat), I also started to miscarry for the second time. In my journal, I wrote:

At 4:00 this morning, I began to bleed red. I had allowed myself to become hopeful yesterday since there was no spotting increase (until evening)…Today, I am certain that is not the case and I feel dissolved. I am disconnected from this experience and feel unreal and unmoored…I feel SO foolish–WHY did I think I could do this again? Why did I open myself up to this again so soon?

…I cannot believe Zander was the last–last to nurse, to sleep in our bed, to be carried in the Ergo, to watch crawl and learn to walk, to hold in scrunchy newborness. I’m NOT DONE YET. Or, am I?

…I just want to say two things again:

1. I do NOT want people to feel sorry for me again so soon.

2. I feel DUMB.

I do not feel like I am handling this well or with strength. I just feel numb and dumb and done and done for. I am bottoming out right now. Bottom. Pit. Despair.

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My nature-loving retreat buddy!

That retreat ended up being a meaningful and spiritually enriching time for me, but it was also full of a lot of darkness and tears.

On February 1, 2011, I had a 13 day old daughter and was enjoying my babymoon with a deeply thankful heart.

And, now on February 1, 2012, I have a robust one year old, whose boundless energy and drive also stimulate my interest in the stillness of retreat!

Why retreat?

Some time ago, I saved this list of why women need retreats (via Jennifer Louden):

I need retreats to remind me who I am.

I need retreats to come home to myself.

I need retreats to connect with the divine feminine.

I need retreats to renew myself.

I need retreats to connect with myself.

I need retreats to connect with others.

I need retreats to rest.

I need retreats to be alone.

I need retreats to find myself.

I need retreats to honor myself.

I need retreats to learn.

I need retreats to dance.

I need retreats to play.

I need retreats to sing.

I need retreats to laugh.

I need retreats to cry.

I need retreats to be myself.

I need retreats to Be.

Yeah. That pretty much sums it up! Though, actually, these are some of the things I wrote down when considering this year’s call to be on retreat:

  • Drum
  • Crochet Yoda for boys
  • Make craft projects with boys
  • Make doll for Alaina
  • Go outside
  • Snuggle!
  • Make more sculptures
  • Draw
  • Journal
  • Read
  • WRITE! Tons! Posts, articles, essays for classes.
  • Be still
  • Rest
  • Play!
  • Plan/brainstorm pregnancy retreats/birth art sessions/prenatal fitness classes—re-vision my plans for birth education
  • Clean out inbox
  • Clean up computer room and go through binders/filing cabinets/bookshelves
  • Declutter in general
  • Clean out closet and spare room
  • Review books (hmm. This is a “should do” rather than a want to. I’ve got about 6 that are staring at me and waiting their turn)

I’m no longer foolish enough to think that I’ll ever be able to get “everything done” (because I’m a fascinating, amazing person after all!), but I do feel confident that I can take some steps to gather the whole, improve my focus, and re-commit to my life’s priorities, as well as consider how to best prioritize my time and energy in order to fully “savor and serve” my family and the world.

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A nice place to retreat--priestess rocks in the woods behind my house.

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I love to sit in this stone "chair" to journal and think and feel. I sat here after my miscarriages. I sat here during my pregnancy. I took newborn Alaina here last February to "introduce" her to the earth. I bring the boys out here to play. I sat here today and thought about the ever-turning wheel of life.

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Alaina’s Birth Story–Baba Style!

On Alaina’s birthday I received a special treat—her birth story written by my mom (called Baba in our family). I asked her if I could post it here and here it is!

Alaina’s Birth Story

Baba’s version

Waiting for a baby to be born can be exciting and stressful at the same time – but waiting for baby Alaina was especially poignant because of Molly’s previous loss of little Noah. I was worried. I knew she had a specific vision of how this – her last – birth would be, and I was concerned that my presence would somehow ruin things for her, or not live up to her expectations. I was also actually afraid. I was afraid something would go wrong, either with the birth process or with the baby herself.  I was afraid I’d have to be the one who was called upon to act in some heroic manner and would fail. I was afraid I wouldn’t measure up to Molly’s birth expectations. I wanted to do it all right, perfectly, and was afraid I couldn’t. I felt that voicing these fears would somehow manifest them, and I didn’t want to carry the fear into the sacred birth space. I felt prepared – I had been trained in neonatal resuscitation, knew where all the tinctures, supplements, and supplies were located, had a little bag packed for myself – but I was still emotionally and mentally concerned.

However, a few days before the birth, Molly and I had a talk, and it really cleared the air! When the “stand by” call came from Mark, I knew I was ready to be of service to my daughter and arriving granddaughter. The first request was for us to collect the big brothers, who had awakened early and were impacting Molly’s birth environment. I picked them up and brought them to home with me. At that time, Molly was very clear and focused, doing her work on the birth ball. When Mark called me to come back to the house at about 9:00, I scrambled into the car and tore over there, as if there might not be enough time! Molly has a history of precipitous births…….

There was definitely some birthy energy going on! Molly was on the ball with Mark rubbing her back. I knew she wanted to be left alone and have a peaceful environment, so I spoke as little as possible. At some point, I slipped over to her futon nest and tucked my little cheat sheet list underneath. I didn’t want to forget any of the resuscitation steps or what supplements to give her.  I tried to remind her to eat, drink and use the bathroom, without being obtrusive about it. She was obviously making progress, and I could hear in her voice that the contractions were growing in intensity. She worried about being too much “in her head” and analyzing things. I tried to reassure her that this is always how she approaches the world, and that it was fine to be that way. She was up and moving around, talking and considering, and also worried that she might not be progressing. This made me think transition might be near, but I didn’t say that to her. She felt some rectal pressure and decided to sit on the toilet for a while. It seemed to me that things were progressing apace, when she reached down and felt something squishy. She said she thought she was pushing, and I decided it was time to abandon my “silence” (really hard for me, by the way!) and comment that she should probably get to her nest if she wanted to avoid having the baby on the toilet.  She agreed, but didn’t really seem to want to move. No wonder. She barely made it! Meanwhile, I had called Summer, the doula, and midwife E.

Baba meets Alaina!

Molly dropped to her knees on her futon nest, and had an obviously intense contraction. We helped her get her clothes off. She was upright on her knees, intent upon finding heart tones, when the phone started ringing incessantly. It was SO annoying that I ran over to, picked it up and slammed it down to make it stop. That’s when I heard some garbled crying and Molly had baby Alaina in her arms! In my mad dash to the phone, I had missed the actual moment of birth :(. We all burst into tears and Molly was repeating, “You’re alive! You’re alive! I did it! There’s nothing wrong with me!” The baby was crying lustily, so we got Molly into a prone position (she was still kneeling) with the baby on her chest and covered up. My job was to pop things into Molly’s mouth – supplements, vitamins, chlorophyll, etc., so I got ready to do that. Summer arrived, midwife E arrived, and all was right with the world. Baby Alaina was safe and in her mother’s arms! And in mine, as soon as I could get my hands on her…..

—-

Molly’s version of Alaina’s full birth story.

Footprints on My Heart: A Memoir of Miscarriage & Pregnancy After Loss

As of this week, my miscarriage memoir, Footprints on My Heart, has finally been published and is now available in eBook format via Kindle and Lulu, Inc. (epub format compatible with Nook and iBooks). There are a few formatting errors and some other general problems (like with the sample/preview–it is totally wonky–and with the lettering on the cover), but guess what, it is DONE, it available, and it is out there. I’m really, really excited about it and I feel this huge sense of relief. I still want to write my Empowered Miscarriage book someday, but for now, this memoir is what I had in me and it will have to do for the time being. I realized after Alaina was born and was, in a sense, the happy “ending” to my Noah story, that in writing my miscarriage blog I had actually ended up writing most of a book. So, the bulk of the book is drawn from my miscarriage blog and from this blog as well (for the pregnancy after loss content). I also included an appendix of resource information/additional thoughts that is fresh.

I’ve felt haunted by the desire to publish this for the entire last year. It took a surprising amount of work, as well as emotional energy, to prepare for publication, even though I actually did most of the actual writing via blog in 2010. Now that it is ready, I just feel lighter somehow and have this really potent sense of relief and ease, as if this was my final task. My final act of tribute. My remaining “to do” in the grief process.

If anyone really, really, really wants it and cannot afford the $3.99 for which I priced it, I do have it available as a pdf file, a mobi file, and an epub file and I will be happy to email it to you in one of those formats.

<deep breath> Aaaaaahhhhhh….

My Tribe!

This is perhaps the most long-overdue post in the history of my blog. Several years ago, The Feminist Breeder wrote a post in which she answered the question, “how do I do it?” I’ve lost the link for her original post, but the gist of her answer was, not alone.  She also asked readers to consider who makes up their parenting tribe—who helps them hold it all together. So, I immediately knew that I needed to write about my parents. My original tribe of birth as well as a very significant part of my present-day tribe. Maybe I haven’t written it because I don’t like to feel dependent on other people. I like to feel like I can do everything on my own and that I don’t ever need help. That isn’t true, obviously. (It also isn’t healthy.) So, one of the ways in which I get it all done (which, of course, is actually another post, because I NEVER actually “get it all done”!) is because of my wonderful, amazing, helpful, altogether incredible mom and dad.

I feel in a somewhat unusual situation in that I’m a “second generation” attachment parent. My mom was a homebirthing, breastfeeding, co-sleeping, babywearing, and homeschooling mother before there was even really a name for many of the concepts of gentle parenting, let alone an overarching parenting “philosophy” or, dare I say, dogma surrounding the ideas. (In some ways, I feel like that has added a complication to my own parenting journey—while many parents joyfully discover attachment parenting and then grow into it with the thrill of having found the right fit for their families, I chose attachment parenting before ever having children of my own and thus instead of growing into it, sometimes had to fall from the pedestal of imagined ideals or the pre-conceived ideas I had about what a great, attached mother I was going to be. Again, a subject for another post!)

Anyway, my mom’s own parenting past means I’ve never once had to deal with any kinds of comments questioning my own parenting—she would never dream of asking why I have homebirths or homeschool or when my baby is going to wean. Big grandparenting score right out of the gate! 🙂 Also, they live one mile away. That means my kids get to go visit their grandparents almost every day and I get two hours on my own to do all of my own work. Go ahead and swoon with envy. It is okay. If I didn’t have these two hours (sometimes closer to three), I don’t know how I would do it. I work in my online classes, I grade papers, I write blog posts, I write articles, I work on books, I write assignments in my own doctoral classes. I feel happy and “productive” when the kids come back home and they’re happy too. My parents also will babysit at other times if I need them (for example, having an LLL meeting or a birth class in town). My kids adore them. I don’t know what they would do without them either. It makes me so full of joy to know that my kids have other adults  in their lives who love them almost as much as I love them (maybe the same—my dad told me recently that he had no idea he would love his grandkids as much as he loves his own kids).

My dad and my boys

My mom and my girl

Anyway, here’s to my tribe! I love you. I need you. And, I thank you.

</tears>

Birthday Girl!

At Alaina’s birth time today at 11:15 a.m. I walked our little front yard labyrinth with her while listening to our special song. We got to the middle (and Lann took a picture) and I said, “my baby is here! She’s here! She’s one now!” I also repeated my immediate post-birth comments. Then, we walked out again and I held her up to the sky and she laughed. Then, she directed me with pointing and leaning and uh’ing over to Noah’s tree and put her hand on his plaque. (Lest this sound too shockingly cosmic, I still go out to the tree periodically and put my hand on it, so she knows that is something we do.) It was a nice moment. 20120119-230847.jpg

Then, she went for some rides on the hammock swing with Lann!
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Then, she decided she wanted to swing in the blue swing too!

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Looks like a big toddler girl in this picture!

After nap time, it was time for a visit from Baba and Tom and time for some presents! She liked hugging her new Raggedy Ann from aunt Nancy:

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Then, cowboy cake made by Baba

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And, mmmm, some ice cream too!
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It was a fun day with our little ONE year old!

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

“Our lives can sometimes feel like passages through harsh landscapes that shake us to our core. Yet these difficult passages bring us to our most profound transformations. In the midst of heartache and greatest need, we find that grace descends. And at the end of it all, we often discover that we have become someone new, stronger and more alive…the tender moments of heartache, illness and inner strangeness that we all experience at times. They illuminate the path of healing–when awe, self-love and grace touch our very being, leave us breathless, make us whole.” –Carolyn Brigit Flynn (Sisters Singing)

I have hands big enough to save the world, and small enough to rock a child to sleep.” –Zelda Brown

(I wrote this second quote on the first page of the baby record journal I kept of her first year)

I’ve spent multiple days trying to gather some minutes together to work on a happy birthday reflective post. While sometimes I hesitate to write posts that are “too personal”— thinking things like “who really cares anyway?” and “why do I feel so compelled to share my life online?”—I’m so glad I’ve written regular updates about this first year of life with my baby girl. Even if no one else does really care to read about it–I care and I’m glad to have a “permanent record” of her infancy in this manner. The main thought that comes to mind when I reflect on her first year of life is, but it has all been SO REAL. I’ve expressed that same sentiment previously and maybe it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, but that it is the feeling I return to. This life, this past year has just been so real. By that I mean so vivid, so present, so conscious, so physical, so embodied, so here and now, that I can hardly believe it has now passed. I am likely to never have another crawling, drooly, grabbing, fuzzy headed baby of my own in my house again–and, even if I do. It won’t be this baby. This little walking, minimally talking, amazed, and amazing, energetic and enthusiastic, baby girl. I paid attention, I told about it, I remembered to look, listen, feel, and to embed precious moments and memories as deeply into my soul as I possibly could. I’ve struggled with life balance, come in and out of various states of equilibrium/disequilibrium. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve marveled, and I’ve been ragged. And, we’re here. We did it. We’ve taken our first trip around the sun together. After having walked the labyrinth of pregnancy after loss in 2010, in January of 2011 I greeted the labyrinth of birth with wild joy and sweet relief, and now we’ve been on our “return” journey–step by step and in my arms, Alaina and I have now completed our postpartum return labyrinth together (though, I think it might actually last three years…).

Just this time last year I was wondering aloud if the full moon would bring me my baby and sure enough, my labor began that night and she was born at 11:15 a.m. on January 19 (full birth story in case anyone missed it). For me, the first birthday is really as much about memories for the mom as it is about the baby! Some favorite early pictures:

Moments after birth. I tried editing the contrast to make the picture actually visible for this post. I'd just caught her myself. The tenderness and majesty of this moment makes me cry!

On my due date demonstrating how she could still fit!

First three generations picture. Look how excited I am!

Here is a video we took for family when she was a couple of days old. I love my voice in this video—in you can hear how marvelous I think she is—and how my fingers tenderly touch and explore her as I talk.

And now, fast forward a year and we’ve got some early steps:

And, then more real walking at Baba’s house:

And, of course I had to make some more polymer clay birth art goddesses to commemorate the big birthday! This mama has her baby on her hip, which is still Alaina’s most preferred mode of transport:

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This baby is stepping out a little, but still intimately connected with mama. Double spiral symbolizes our interlocking labyrinth path, forever joined, but now able to separate too:

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The whole birth art series!

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It is a total coincidence that I ended up making 12 figures--I didn't plan it that way and I didn't make one during every month or anything (though, that would have been cool. I wish I'd done that!)

Okay, time for  twelve month update too! After many months of posting about the best baby ever, I am here to report that Miss A has taken a turn for the wild. If anyone has been secretly annoyed by my “perfect baby” and wishing to crow with delight, now is your chance! Oh my goodness. I don’t even know where to start. How about with this picture?!

Yes. That would be some of the wood from the back of the kitchen chair. Peeled off by a baby. And, the set of her mouth is because she’s also eating it. The slightly wild, manic-clown-type hair also sums it up. This girl is on the move. She’s into everything. Wants it all. Is constantly making one of two sounds to indicate her many wants–a cute little question-intonation “huh?” sound, or a grating,  “aaaaaaaah!” sound that makes you want to yell, JUST STOP. She is incredibly grabby and shockingly destructive. Nurses very roughly (this isn’t new) and uses my skin as a handhold or toehold often enough that my upper arms are covered with little fingertip sized bruises. My thighs near my knees are also covered with small toe-sized bruises from being kick-walked on during lying down nursing. BUT, lying down nursing is pretty rare, since she pretty much will only nurse while standing up in the Ergo. And, that is how she goes down for nap every day (down to only one nap per day now). Nurses lying down during night. Potty strike is finally pretty over, but sitting down to pee just takes too much time. I still mean to write an EC post, a common refrain in which will be, and then I got peed on.

She loves to get into cabinets and also to take lids off of stuff.

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Again with that hair and face of mischief-making!

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What a sweet face too!

She weighs about 24 pounds and I need to measure her height. Has 8 teeth. Thought recent personality shift might have to do with more teeth or the developmental milestone of walking or the fact that she had a yucky cold, but it seems to be her new way of being. Markedly less verbal than she was last month—I know that is supposed to be a worrisome sign, but I think in this case it is related to the brain being able to concentrate on one significant developmental leap at a time. Right now, walking is primary and language has taken a backseat. I remember the boys doing this too. She often seems disgruntled lately–like whatever we are doing, she wants something different. Wants to get on top of table, counters, and stove. LOVES to be outside and asks all day long to go out (even when it is 10 degrees–then she complains and wants us to make it magically warmer). Has thrown several fits about this (and other things too). Is constantly aggravating the boys by getting into their games and wrecking their stuff.

She is very tough and brave and surprises me still with her unflappability in the face of change or drama. A couple of days ago I accidentally scraped her face with a tree branch when going out to open the chickens and didn’t notice what had happened. She made a small sound and had a turned down lip and I said, “oh, what’s wrong?” Upon getting inside I then noticed the two inch long bloody scratch down the side of her head and face!

Spends a lot of time in-arms still. Really enjoys mama and wishes to be mainly with me, though she does like visiting my parents and playing with daddy too. So far she still prefers to crawl to get things, but on two occasions this week, she has chosen to walk toward something rather than crawling. Crawling will soon be history! I swear, sometimes it feels like my heart is breaking when I think about the little baby of one year ago and how she is growing so fast, but at the same time of course I’m just so happy to see her developing and changing and being amazing. It has been a beautiful year.

Happy Birth Day to both of us!

Review & Giveaway: KidsBlanks by Zoey

The giveaway is now closed. Alison G was the winner!

I’m excited to have a double feature today—a quick review AND a giveaway in one! I recently received some products from KidsBlanks to review. KidsBlanks by Zoey is a wholesale baby and toddler clothing company selling blank baby clothes that parents (or other talented family members!) can then embroider, applique, dye, stencil, and so forth to customize the clothes for their own children. I received a cute little summer dress and a diaper cover. While I have not yet embellished them (while that is a neat idea, they also stand alone and are wearable as is), I tried them out on Alaina this morning. Both items are in 12-24 month size and seem true-to-size with a good amount of room in the diaper cover to accommodate a cloth diaper. The items are 100% cotton and are a nice weight—not heavy or stiff, but not lightweight or cheap either, a nice soft texture and mid-weight.

We tried diaper cover LG2980 in brown and dress LG5050PD in pink polka dot. Check them out in action:

Now, it is your turn! KidsBlanks is offering one special winner $25 worth of products from their website (since they are a wholesaler, this is actually worth $50 retail). The winner will be able to pick any products marked LG or CS on the website (the majority of the products on the site). To enter, just leave a comment below! I will draw the winner randomly next Tuesday.

2011 Blog Year in Review

The dawn of 2011 saw me preparing to meet my new baby girl. I was given a beautiful blessingway (and attended several others during the year). Then, I gave birth to her magical, tiny self on January 19. As the year passed, she got bigger and bigger and bigger:

Three Month a-Baby!
Six Months
Eightmonthababy!
Nine Months
Ten Months Old!
Elevenmonthababy!

We took lots of pictures to try to chronicle the sweet, perfect texture of our lives with her in it. I continued to make lots of birth art. I also published several of my originally-in-print articles in blog post format:

Birth Lessons from a Chicken
Nursing Johnny Depp
The Rhythm of Our Lives
The Value of Sharing Story
Listening Well Enough
Mindful Mama: Presence and Perfectionism in Parenting
Listening to my baby…even when we disagreed!
Planning for Postpartum
The Spot

I made slight revisions to the two posts that consistently get a high number of hits each week and didn’t make any changes to the post about good foods to eat during labor that continues to top my blog’s personal charts:

How do I know I’m really in labor?
In-Utero Practice Breathing
Good Foods to Eat in Labor

In addition to some of my articles-turned-posts, several new posts that I wrote in 2011 received a lot of attention, thanks to Facebook shares, and a guest post about alcohol and breastfeeding was enormously popular for the two weeks between Christmas and New Year’s Day.

I just want to grind my corn!
Affordable Fetal Model
Active Birth in the Hospital
Guest Post: Alcohol and Breastmilk

My final post of 2011 also received quite a few hits via Facebook in the last few days, but has not received any comments on the post itself (only FB!):

The Illusion of Choice

I spoke my truth in several other posts that I felt pleased with, but that did not get a lot of airtime via other sites:

What Really Scares Me: Social Attitudes Towards Women
Asking the right questions…
“You’ll Miss This…”
Surrender?
Birthing the Mother-Writer (or: Playing My Music, or: Postpartum Feelings, Part 1)
Milk, Money, & Madness
The “Almost Died…” Remark
Fatherbaby
The Ragged Self

I also started to write a little about homeschooling.

I feel like I spent a lot of 2011 in a writer’s prayer—trying to tell about it—trying to preserve in time these high, sweet, clear, delicious, beautiful notes that composed my year with my new baby.

Yarn Goddess

I made sweeping promises about all of the fabulous posts I was going to write over my break and apparently I only had ONE in me. I find a good blog post really takes a minimum of three hours to write and that is after having the idea, taking notes, collecting links, etc. Someday I envision cleaning out my intense drafts folder, but that day has not yet come. So, for now, I want to share a picture of the delightful Goddess of Willendorf my talented mother crocheted for me for Christmas this year:

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Isn’t she a beaut? Who is the real Yarn Goddess here? My mom! I am also enjoying some lovely new handknit socks in solid black at my request (so that I can wear them to teach in).

Speaking of teaching, the new session is about to begin! One of my classes got cancelled, which is really a great thing, because I only have one separation per week from Alaina now. I was really nervous about how all of us were going to manage two and I’m glad I don’t have to find out. I did get a second section of my online class, which I have been hoping for for about a year. So, I’m super excited about that! Let’s hope it scrapes up enough students at the last minute to actually run.

Also, went back via my BlogBooker (which I think I’m going to re-do shortly and make available for download for any die-hard “fans” out there), and want to share my post from this exact date last year. Seems so recent in many ways, but also like an eternity in others! I just said to Alaina today, “remember I used to be pregnant?!”

This is my first post constructed entirely on my new iPad–photo and all. 🙂

The Illusion of Choice

A choice is not a choice if it is made in the context of fear.

Informed choice is a popular phrase with birth professionals and healthy birth activists. I’ve read impassioned blog posts from doulas and birth activists claiming that if we support women’s right to homebirth, we must also support her “choice” to have an elective cesarean. But, I believe we have constructed a collaborative mythos within the birth activist community that an informed choice is possible for most women. The statistics tell us a different story. I do not believe that women with full ability to exercise their choices would choose many of the things that are typically on the “menu” for birth in mainstream culture.

What’s on the menu?

Women give their blanket “informed consent” to all manner of hospital procedures without the corollary of informed refusal–is a choice a choice when you don’t have the option of saying no?

In many hospitals, women are STILL not allowed to eat during labor despite ample evidence that this practice is harmful–is a choice a real choice if made in the context of hospital “policies” that are not evidence-based?

Women are told that their babies are “too big” and then “choose” a cesarean. Is a choice a choice when it is made in the context of coercion and deception?

Women choose hospitals and obstetricians that are covered by their insurance companies. Is a choice a real choice when it is made by your HMO?

Women choose hospital birth because they cannot find a local midwife. Is a choice a real choice when it is made in the context of restrictive laws and hostile political climates?

Women often state they are seeking “balanced” birth classes that aren’t “biased” towards natural birth (or towards hospital birth), but is a choice a choice when it is made in the context of misrepresented information? Because, as Kim Wildner notes, balance means “to make two parts equal”–what if the two parts aren’t equal? What is the value of information that appears balanced, but is not factually accurate? Pointing out inequalities and giving evidence-based information does not make an educator “biased” or judgmental–it makes her honest! (though honesty can be “heard” as judgment when it does not reflect one’s own opinions or experiences).

On a somewhat related note, recently, the subject of “quiverfull” families came up amongst my friends and comments were made about feminists needing to support those women’s “choice” to have so many children. However, I worry about women who are making reproductive “choices” in the context of what can be a very repressive religious tradition. Women’s choices about their lives are not always made with free agency. And, that is where some feminist critiques of other women’s choices come from–a critique of the larger context (patriarchy) rather than the woman herself. Is a choice a choice when it is made in the context of oppression?

Where do women get information to make their choices?

In his 2010 presentation, Birthing Ethics: What You Should Know About the Ethics of Childbirth, Raymond DeVries uses data from the Listening to Mother’s studies to help us understand where women are getting their information about birth—this is the context in which their “informed choices” are being made and this is the context we need to consider.

Our choices in birth and life are profoundly influenced by the systems in which we participate…

Some choices shaped by the system


Women learn from books and experiences of others (and self):

The number one book women learn from is What to Expect When You’re Expecting, which has been number four on NY Times Bestsellers list for over 500 weeks and counting.

According to De Vries, via the Listening to Mothers data, this is what women tell us about how they learn, what they learn, and upon what their choices are based:

Television explains birth
Pain is not your friend
But technology is
Mothers are listening to doctors (and nurses)
Medicalized birth allows mothers to feel capable and confident
Interfering with birth is mostly okay
Our health system works (mostly)
We like choice
We want to be “informed”

He also explains polarization: “We seek information to confirm our opinion. Contrary information does not convince, it polarizes.” How do we share information so that women can make truly informed choices without polarizing?

As advocates, I think we sometimes fall back on the phrase “informed choice” as an excuse not to be outraged, not to despair, and not to give up, because it promises that change is possible if only women change and most of us have access to change at that level.

Birthing room ethics

In another presentation, U.S. Maternity Care: Understanding the Exception That Proves the Rule, DeVries explores the ethical issues surrounding choices in birth, noting that “choice is central at all levels – but can choice do all the moral work?” We wish to respect parental choice, but information does not equal knowledge and we often err on the side of treating them as one and the same. In maternity care, often there is no choice. Tests become routine or practices become policy, and “information [is] given with no effort to understand parental values (the ritual of informed consent).”

Is choice possible while in active labor?
De Vries also raises a really critical question with no clear answers—is choice really possible during active labor? He also asks, “should a healthy pregnant woman be allowed to choose a surgical birth? But is it safe? The problem with data…Interestingly, those who think it should be allowed find it safe, and those who oppose it, find it to be unsafe.” When considering where this “choice” of surgical birth comes from, he identifies the following factors:

The desires of women
• Preserve sexual function
• Preserve ideal body
• The need to fit birth into employment
• Options offered by health care system

The desires of physicians
• Manage an unpredictable process
• The limits of obstetric education

Why should we care, anyway?

Another popular phrase is, “it’s not my birth.” I agree with the opinion of Desirre Andrews on this one:

“I do not believe in the saying ‘Not my birth.’ Women are connected together through the fabric of daily life including birth. What occurs in birth influences local culture, reshapes beliefs, weaves into how we see ourselves as wives, mothers, sisters, & women in our community. Your birth is my birth. My birth is your birth. This is why no matter my age or the age of my children it matters to me.”

Victims of circumstance?

While it may sound as if I am saying women are powerlessly buffeted about by circumstance and environment, I’m not. Theoretically, we always have the power to choose for ourselves, but by ignoring, denying, or minimizing the multiplicity of contexts in which women make “informed choices” about their births and their lives, we oversimplify the issue and turn it into a hollow catchphrase rather than a meaningful concept.

Women’s lives and their choices are deeply embedded in a complex, multifaceted, practically infinite web of social, political, cultural, socioeconomic, religious, historical, and environmental relationships.

And, I maintain that a choice is not a choice if it is made in a context of fear.

But, what do we know?

I read an interesting article by anthropologist and birth activist, Robbie Davis-Floyd, in the summer issue of Pathways Magazine. It was an excerpt from a longer article that appeared in Anthropology News, titled “Anthropology and Birth Activism: What Do We Know?” In the conclusion, Davis-Floyd states the following:

“Doctors ‘know’ they are giving women ‘the best care,’ and ‘what they really want.’ Birth activists…know that this ‘best care’ is too often a travesty of what birth can be. And yet on that existential brink, I tremble at the birth activist’s coding of women as ‘not knowing.’ So, here’s to women educating themselves on healthy, safe birth practices–to women knowing what is best for themselves and their babies, and to women rising above everything else.”

I believe that every woman who has given birth knows something about birth that other people don’t know. I also believe that women know what is right for their bodies and that mothers know what is right for their babies. I’m also pretty certain that these “knowings” are often crowded out or obliterated or rendered useless by the large sociocultural context in which women live their lives, birth their babies, and mother their young. So, how do we celebrate and honor the knowings and help women tease out and identify what they know compared to what they may believe or accept to be true while still respecting their autonomy and not denigrating them by characterizing them as “not knowing” or as needing to “be educated”? As I’ve written previously, with regard to education as a strategy for change: People often suggest “education” as a change strategy with the assumption that education is all that is needed. But, truly, do we want people to know more or do we want them to act differently? There is a LOT of information available to women about birth choices and healthy birth options. What we really want is not actually more education, we want them to act, or to choose, differently. Education in and of itself is not sufficient, it must be complemented by other methods that motivate people to act. As the textbook I use in class states, “a simple lack of information is rarely the major stumbling block.” You have to show them why it matters and the steps they can take to get there…

And, as the wise Pam England points out: “A knowledgeable childbirth teacher can inform mothers about birth, physiology, hospital policies and technology. But that kind of information doesn’t touch what a mother actually experiences IN labor, or what she needs to know as a mother (not a patient) in this rite of passage.”

The systemic context…

We MUST look at the larger system when we ask our questions and when we consider women’s choices. The fact that we even have to teach birth classes and to help women learn how to navigate the hospital system and to assert their rights to evidence-based care, indicates serious issues that go way beyond the individual. When we talk about women making informed choices or make statements like, “well, it’s her birth” or “it’s not my birth, it’s not my birth,” or wonder why she went to “that doctor” or “that hospital,” we are becoming blind to the sociocultural context in which those birth “choices” are embedded. When we teach women to ask their doctors about maintaining freedom of movement in labor or when we tell them to stay home as long as possible, we are, in a very real sense, endorsing, or at least acquiescing to these conditions in the first place. This isn’t changing the world for women, it is only softening the impact of a broken and oftentimes abusive system.

And, then I read an amazing story like this grandmother’s story of supporting her non-breastfeeding daughter-in-law and I don’t know WHAT to do in the end. Can we just trust that women will find their own right ways, define their own experiences, and access their own knowings in the context of all the impediments to free choice that I’ve already explored? What if she says, “why didn’t you TELL me?” But, if we share our information we risk polarization. If we keep silent and just offer neutral “support,” regardless of the choice made, then doesn’t it eventually become that the only voice available for her as she strives to make her own best choices is the voice of What to Expect and of hospital policy?

“Our lives are lived in story. When the stories offered us are limited, our lives are limited as well. Few have the courage, drive and imagination to invent life-narratives drastically different from those they’ve been told are possible. And unfortunately, some self-invented narratives are really just reversals of the limiting stereotype…” –Patricia Monaghan (New Book of Goddesses and Heroines, p. xii)

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Related posts:

What to Expect When You Go to the Hospital for a Natural Childbirth
Birth & Culture & Pregnant Feelings
Asking the right questions…
Active Birth in the Hospital
Why do I care?

References:

De Vries, Raymond. May 20, 2010. Birthing Ethics: What You Should Know About the Ethics of Childbirth, Webinar presented by Lamaze International.

De Vries, Raymond. Feb. 26-27. U.S. Maternity Care: Understanding the Exception That Proves the Rule. Coalition for Improving Maternity Services (CIMS). 2010 Mother-Friendly Childbirth Forum