ElementalMom

My friend S gave birth today. Her little boy came into this world surrounded by family, touched first by people who love him, quietly, smoothly, beautifully. The details of the story are hers to tell, and hopefully I’ll be honored enough to link to them sometime soon.

Four months ago, S believed she could not have this kind of birth. She’d had two cesareans. She lived in a state where midwifery is illegal. Her best option was to resign herself to planning the best cesarean possible.

But S is strong. And she asked questions. A lot of questions. And in three short months, pulled together a birth plan that involved things like respect, and privacy, and having her two other children present. It also involved driving across entire states, and finding midwives who viewed two prior cesareans as a failure of the system, not a failure of S’s body. And it involved S and her husband having the faith, and the strength, and the endurance, and the foresight, to question an entire paradigm that was pushing on them harder than it pushes on most people, throwing up barriers that stop most people from getting the birth they want.

So when I tell you that her birth was completely without incident, that it all went off without a hitch, and that today, S is not a recovering surgical patient, she’s a woman who claimed her power and changed everything by sheer determination, those of you who daily see what the birth machine does to women in this country will understand why I got off the phone with her, and cheered and danced around and cried a little and did it all again some more. Such a small thing, such a simple birth, such a miracle that it ever got the chance to happen like it did.

So here’s to S, her husband, and their family. Yours is the story that tells me there’s hope of being able to topple the birth machine. You had your normal, quiet birth against insane odds, despite stupid laws, around ridiculous constraints. But you did it. And nothing will ever stop you ever again.

UPDATE: Shaye’s birth story is now live, here.

I was chatting with my incredibly wise pal V last night, and we were talking, as we do, about birth and babies and whatnot. The topic of pain-free birth came up.

I‘ve thought about this a lot. I completely bought in to the idea that if you didn’t have fear, you wouldn’t have pain, as espoused by Grantly Dick-Read in "Childbirth Without Fear". And then in the middle of my 30+ insane labor with Kestrel, decided that I was never going to trust the word of someone who’d never birthed for anything ever again.

Steeped as I am in birth circles, I have read a lot of birth stories. There are some that are ecstatic, euphoric, orgasmic… but they’re outnumbered hugely by those that are painful, uncomfortable, awkward, and agonizing. And so there’s a little bit of backlash thinking here, that the ecstatic crowd, those that feel OK with the Gaskin term "sensations" are either crazy, or they’re trying to create a thing into being that currently really doesn’t exist.

Once again, I’m pulled into using sports metaphor for birth. Marathons hurt. Triathlons hurt. All kinds of athletic endeavor hurt. I was telling V about a certain world-class freediver who acknowledges that not breathing hurts, and requires himself to resist 14 urges to breathe before he allows himself up. And how, I ask, is that any different from a birthing woman telling herself that she’ll just get through this contraction… and then just through the next one… and then just through the next one? The freediver is lauded for his athletic accomplishment in not breathing for six or seven minutes by virtue of his amazing ability to control a bodily instinct through willpower. But a woman, taking it one contraction at a time, is somehow lesser, pitiable, a figure to be saved from all that by intervention.

It occurs to me that in the english language, we only have one word for "pain". This is supposed to cover everything from cancer to broken bones to childbirth to heartbreak to headache. Apparently when we were pulling together this polyglot language, we decided to minimize our description of this state, so that you’re either in pain, or you’re not, but perhaps it’s gauche to really get too into the details of "in pain". So someone on chemo and someone in labor are both "in pain". If they’re both in a hospital, they both are trying to use the same dumb "scale of 1 to 10" descriptor to communicate what they’re feeling to an outside person.

No wonder so many mechanisms, processes, theories, and drugs exist to try to save women from labor. I know that were my bones broken, were I enduring dialysis or some other process, I would absolutely want those at my disposal. But what we’re lacking is the linguistic differentiation, in two syllables or less, to say "pain that is the sign of pathology and illness and needs to be obliterated by any means possible" and "pain that is your body’s way of kicking in an endorphin payoff down the road".

Got that? I’m not enduring labor pain. I’m purchasing my endorphin rush, one sensation at a time.

The amazing and brilliant Jen on VBACfacts.com posts this winner:

A Letter From A Hospital Explaining Why They Banned VBAC

And I thought I was speechless about the UHC elective cesarean thing I posted about last. This just kicks it. I may calm down enough to respond to this in a measured and analytical way sometime before I have this baby, but I doubt it.

Friends, it was never more clearly stated why birth does not belong anywhere near a hospital. And from the horses’ mouth.

A coworker of mine, whose wife is pregnant with their first child, just sent me this:

This makes me unspeakably sad for so many reasons. Here’s my take on it:

• Labor begins when the baby starts releasing hormones into the mother’s system that say that the lungs are mature and ready to go. Anything that alters that balance impairs the baby’s ability to breathe well outside the womb
• Those hormones start a chain reaction that set up every other thing; contractions, dilation, the “fetal ejection reflex” (yes, there is such a thing), placental detachment and expulsion, and lactation. Anything that alters that impairs everything that comes after in the chain.
• A hugely pregnant, uncomfortable, tired woman, when given an out, will take it. It’s biological nature to move towards pleasure and away from pain. Offering this kind of thing is sort of like handing out formula samples at the hospital; the implication is that you will somehow need the out. It steals a woman’s triumph out from under her, without her ever really knowing or understanding what happened; there’s just this vague unease.
• It is recklessly ignoring true informed consent. The implications, both macro and micro, of a decision like that, are not addressed here, nor will they be in an office visit discussing elective cesarean and/or induction, because a physician who’s tired, overworked, and profit-motivated, will take the out when given it, and a nicely scheduled birth is so much easier for them than the rollercoaster that is natural birth.

Every time I think I’m imagining at least part of how bad things in the American Birth Climate can get, something like this pops up in my face like a horrorshow. Someone talk me down?

Tags: Cesarean, elective_cesarean, elective_induction, first_time_parents, informed_consent, labor, United_Healthcare

Here we go:

http://lifewithoutschool.typepad.com/lifewithoutschool/2008/03/the-boys-projec.html

Lately, I’ve been looking more at underlying assumptions, and less at the actual mechanics of learning, and what I see out there is pretty scary.

Tags: Boys_Project, Life_Without_School

Whew. Did you read the last few entries? You’d figure that I’d fall into bed and sleep, sleep, sleep, right? Wrong. Good thing I habitually leave a notepad by the bed to collect those blinding 3:00 AM brainwaves. It’s been over a week since the Trust Birth Conference, and I’m still having them!

First, the pregnant chick reflections. Friends, even as much of a birth geek as I am, it was so incredibly cool to be able to walk around for four whole days and not have a single person ask me what gender my baby was. Everyone assumed I didn’t know. I didn’t have to choke back my lecture about the evils of ultrasound even once; and most of the folks I talked to probably would have given it better than I did anyway! Not one person asked me for a due date; they asked me how far along I was. It’s such a subtle difference, but makes such a HUGE difference in how we think of pregnancy, and how the mother feels. And you know, I am rock-solid about how I feel about this stuff, but when you’re out in the world, it gets soooooo tiring having to have the same sad conversations over, and over and over. Every single time I walked into the bathroom, I got ushered to the front of the line. How cool is that?

Second, the birth geek reflections. For all my talk, I am really pretty new to all of this. I was oblivious to the world of birth advocacy just six short years ago. Granted, the intervening years have been quite intense, and I’ve thrown myself into the reading, the researching, and the exploring with more than even my usual fervor. But even so, getting to hang out with people who have lived in this headspace for years, and just soaking up their vibe, was amazing. It’s one thing to read the words, it’s another thing entirely to be in their presence, really getting a feel for the emotion that the printed word just won’t convey. I feel so humbled, and so inspired, at the same time. “Life changing” is not too strong a term to use.

I am really running the risk of running out of superlatives. Bear with me if I get repetitive, OK?

• I‘d like to thank Carla Hartley. Not only did she trust me sight unseen, she was unfailingly graceful under pressure. I’m familiar with conferences, and I’m also familiar with the people running them spontaneously combusting. Carla was utterly unflappable, and I admire that hugely. I also just want to say that it takes a ton of courage for a midwife, let alone one running a school of midwifery, to stand up for unassisted birth, with the logic that “either birth works, or it doesn’t, you can’t say it only works with the right careprovider.” Having been attacked by a prominent midwifery advocate once in my life for daring to plan an unassisted birth, Carla’s trust of birth itself is hugely inspiring. Trust Birth? You betcha.
• I‘d like to thank everyone who supported Carla. It was obvious that a ton of time and work went into, well, everything. You guys must have put in the mega-hours, and it totally showed.
• I‘d like to thank the families of everyone who supported the folks running things. Behind every woman on a mission, is a partner and kids who believe in what she’s doing, and their sacrifice of her time is nothing short of remarkable.
• Along those lines, of course, thanks to Jason, Rowan, Kestrel, Marc, and my Inlaws Allen and Terri.
• I have this idea that there is something so uncontrollable and unpredictable about birth that it keeps the people who support it humble. I was not expecting the Birth Luminaries at this event to be so approachable, let alone so welcoming, encouraging, and positive. I’m still riding the high.
• Thank you, Melissa. It was all your fault for suggesting, prodding, encouraging, and connecting all the dots in order to make this happen for me. You rock. But you know that, and are probably sick to death of hearing it from me.
• Thanks, ICAN. I want you to know that I am going to use what I picked up here to make the world a slightly better place. How? I’m not quite sure yet, and you’re welcome to hold me accountable, pop in, and ask me from time to time.

Tags: ICAN, Trust_Birth, Trust_Birth_Conference

Oh my gosh. Not only was it the day we lost an hour to “Daylight Savings”, but Sunday, March 9 was gonna be packed solid, and I did not wake up my sunshiny best. Luckily, I got to start with another lovely breakfast with Melissa and Kenneth. Day 3 was not going to be easy, but I knew if I could keep my energy going, it was going to be a great day at the Trust Birth Conference.

I haven’t said a thing about the ICAN table. Manned by local ICANers, I hear the table got good traffic (if you’ve read my other posts, you know I didn’t spend a lot of time there, but did swing by and say hey when I could). Birgit, Christy, April, Kmom, and probably others I didn’t see… THANK YOU! I am hugely grateful. And, as you can see from the photo, I am also fairly huge. =)

I started my sessions with Laura Shanley’s “Believe Your Way To A Better Birth”. Nothing I hadn’t heard, but it was interesting for me, considering my mother had always talked about her five-hour birth with me, so that’s what I expected, and ended up with 30+ hour marathons. I’m not entirely sure it’s all in my head; I think some might be in my pelvis and posture, but that’s a whole other discussion. We saw some clips from “A Clear Road to Birth” that were fantastic, and I was really interested to see the theme of baby being a participant in their own birth being shown there.

For Track 9, I decided to go check out something with no relevance to me whatsoever. I had REALLY wanted to see Gail Hart talk, so I attended her “Keeping Pregnancy Normal; Preventing Prematurity”, which was far more valuable than I was expecting. I’d gone just because I wanted to bask in Gail’s presence for a while; she’s one of those between-the-eyes birth advocate midwives who just radiates wisdom all around her. There were enough folks in the group that I never got a chance to ask what percentage of prematurity is iatrogenic (through fear, coercion, and all the other things us ICANers know about firsthand). Ah well.

I spent lunch freaking out. Thank goodness Christy Fiscer, Melissa, and Kenneth were all on hand to talk me down over my caesar salad (anyone else get the irony there?). I went into the general session hall early, to get everything all hooked up and tested and functioning. There is nothing in the entire world more embarrassing than giving a talk on how fabulous multimedia is, if your own multimedia is not functioning as planned. So I harassed Brian the Trust Birth Tech Guy to distraction. Tested everything. Tested it again. Fiddled with the microphone. Fiddled with the remote control. Stressed out. Paced.

On the one hand, it’s fabulously reassuring when the hall begins to fill up prior to your talk. On the other hand, it’s just a titch nervewracking, being a person of no particular import or stature, when you realize that Dr. Sarah Buckley and Sheila Stubbs are sitting directly behind you. You know, cause they’re going to listen to your talk. The one you’re about to give. EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

Again, Melissa and Christy were there to keep me from vibrating right off my chair. And as they’re being soothing and rational, Carla Hartley slides up next to me, shows me how to alternate-nostril breathe to calm jitters, and asks me if I could cut my talk back to around 45 minutes from the original 60. Did I mention, eeeeek?

Rixa Freeze went ahead of me, and I’m so incredibly glad that Brian the Tech Guy had transferred a copy of her presentation onto my machine during setup, because I think I only actually heard one word in four of what she said. But I’ve been able to review the presentation again, and it was fabulous. For as sick as she clearly was, Rixa gives a mean presentation, and man, she knows her stuff. It is so cool to hear someone talk who has such encyclopedic knowledge of the research and the writings! I could listen to her for hours. You know, when I’m listening and not just freaking out…

So this is me, at the podium. I had my cute little maternity power-suit on, and I was ready to go. Luckily, I’d rehearsed my talk enough that I could pretty much do it on autopilot. I started off with my introduction, and moved onto why I think multimedia advocacy is so important, and why pitching birth advocacy to Digital Natives is so critical to preventing the first cut. I showed the “Question CPD” video first, and was rewarded with hoots, hollers, whoops, and applause as each mama’s numbers played on the screen. From there, I hacked a bunch of stuff out for Carla (grin), and moved onto the publication of Cesarean Voices, and how hard it is to get non-birthies to read the thing, yet, people could watch Elaine’s awesomely moving movie, “Empty“. I was a little startled, honestly, when I looked out at the audience and realized that there were tears all over the entire room. From there, I moved rapidly onto Teresa’s HBA3C video, which Gloria Lemay started cheering for before I could even finish introducing it. Thanks Gloria!

Watching the clock move faster and faster, the rest of my presentation is kind of a blur. I explained a bit more about Web 2.0 with “The Machine is Us/ing Us” from Michael Wesch, Assistant Professor of Cultural Anthropology, Kansas State University. Because I was in a hurry at that point, I didn’t get to make the point that multimedia from tech to birthie was as effective as multimedia from birth to techie, so I’m bummed about that. Like lightning, I whizzed past discussions of search engine optimization (SEO), prominent birth blogs, and getting the word out through educating birth advocates not to do anything differently but to optimize the brilliant things they’re already saying.

Whew. It was over. I was done, I sat down, and Carla got up to say her closing remarks. Then I was out to the lobby, met a few well-wishers (thank you all!) and bam, like that, my shuttle was waiting and I was gone. But of course, I have more to say. Stay tuned for closing thoughts…

Tags: ICAN, Trust_Birth, Trust_Birth_Conference

On Saturday March 8, despite being totally wiped out, mentally and emotionally, from Day 1 of the Trust Birth Conference, I hopped out of bed about 15 minutes before my alarm, bright and ready to tackle Day 2.

I was lucky enough to have breakfast with the outstanding Melissa Collins and her husband Kenneth, who’d managed to fly in from Texas the night before. What a guy; patiently endured Melissa and I babbling an odd mixture of birth and tech over waffles and yogurt. When 8:00 AM rolled around, we wandered over to the conference, ready to dive in to another day.

My first session was in the gorgeous Mezzanine room, which had an ocean view, and featured again the delightful Dr. Sarah Buckley, speaking on “Prenatal Testing and Ultrasound: The Whole Story for Mother and Baby”. Again, nothing I didn’t already know, but nice to know that if I ever am in the position of having to convince someone else, I know exactly where to look for a calm, rational, excellently-reasoned, and meticulously-researched argument. I think because I do get so whipped up, I value people who can stay calm and steady even more. Thank you, Dr. Buckley.

Track 4 was probably the most fun I had at the conference, other than my own talk. “Writing About Birth”, a panel discussion featuring Jody McLaughlin, Sheila Stubbs, Jan Tritten, and Laura Shanley (swoon!), again covered both my personal and my ICAN goals at once. And what an amazingly accomplished group of speakers! I sat there, basking in the combined glow, and just astonished by the amount of between-the-eyes wisdom represented in just those four people. I took notes furiously, and willed myself to memorize the session in its entirety. Futile, I know, but it was that amazing. I got a few minutes to schmooze with Jody at the end, which was great for both instigating ideas, and for pumping me up.

After lunch, another earthshatteringly cool panel session, “Don’t Push Me; Physiologic Pushing” with Karen Strange, Gloria Lemay, and Heather Brock. I’d attended Heather’s postpartum exercise session the day before, so I was pretty sure I knew what to expect from her part of the talk, but was surprised when Carla Hartley also showed up, and the two of them talked about what their births had been like. Fabulous to hear a mother-daughter team discussing their birth experiences with each other. And of course, I’d been a total fan of Gloria Lemay’s for years and years, so again, being in the Physical Presence of Greatness was a pump all by itself. I knew she was wise; I had no idea she was also hysterically funny. Pushing is normally such an un-funny topic, it was unexpectedly delightful to be sitting there laughing about it. Of course, I’d read her article about pushing, but hearing her deliver the information live, with anecdotes, was absolutely wonderful. And Karen Strange piped in with a discussion of pushing from the baby’s perspective, which again, rocked my world. Mainstream medicine tends to ignore that there’s a baby involved at all, but hearing details of how the baby assists the pushing process was really enlightening. And Rachel Correa attended the session, again rocking my entire world, when she said that, having had one still baby and three live ones, it was amazing to her that people would even question that of course, a baby participates in their own birth.

Track 6, pretty much like all the tracks, was maddening to have to make a choice in. Even figuring out my “ICAN vs my upcoming birth” priorities didn’t help; too many fabulous speakers to choose from. I ended up opting for Raquel Lazar-Paley’s “Cultivating the Conscious Woman“, mostly because she’d promised a relevant discussion of Plato’s Republic when I’d spoken to her in the halls. I wasn’t familiar with Raquel’s work like I had been with the presenters of other sessions I’d gone to, and found myself being pleasantly surprised at the amount of work she’s done in an area that still eludes me; the question of how to help a woman move along the consciousness spectrum, and possibly even avoid the first cut. Sadly, some of my fellow attendees, birth doulas, were pretty spectacularly unaware of some of the big issues facing women with regards to cesareans, so that kind of threw a cast over things. Raquel did a brilliant job of being gently enlightening, without blowing up in their faces. Well done, Raquel!

By the time dinner rolled around, I was pretty much a ravening beast (going long stretches so fascinated by talks that I forget to snack does that). Another lovely meal with Melissa and Kenneth, and we were ready to tackle the evening session…

Track 7 was one of the things I’d been looking forward to longest. “Why Women Stay Home Alone” with Laura Shanley, Melissa Collins, Heather Cushman-Dowdee, Jody McLaughlin, Rixa Freeze, Heather Brock and Emily Reeves was absolutely brilliant. Each of them told the short form of their own unassisted birth story, and then it was opened up for discussion. Laura says,

One of the MANY highlights for me was the panel discussion on “Why Women Stay Home…Alone!” Several of us on the panel had been a bit concerned that we might endure criticism from midwives, but I can honestly say that not one of the midwives in the audience had anything negative to say about UC! After my fellow panelists and I shared our reasons for choosing UC, the discussion turned to how we can build a bridge between UC and midwifery. I was thrilled to learn that there are many midwives who truly want to help women in their quest for a UC, whether that means being a back-up, doing prenatal care, offering knowledge and support during the pregnancy and/or checking on the mom and baby after the birth.

The conversation was so animated and so lively, that when I finally couldn’t focus any more, around 10:30, the breakout talks were still going on. I congratulated Melissa, and drug my very weary self back up to my room. You know, the room I took a photo of because I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be there much? Yeah. That room. Because tomorrow was another day, full of sessions, breakouts, hallway chats… and my presentation. Eeeeeeek!

Tags: ICAN, Trust_Birth, Trust_Birth_Conference

Bright and early Friday March 7, my alarm went off. This is far more traumatic than it sounds; in my day job, I’m a full time telecommuter, and have gotten very used to waking up when my body tells me to. So it was a little weird to be awoken by the beeping. Gah! But immediately my bad mood evaporated, because four floors below me, things were hopping for Day 1 of the Trust Birth Conference.

At first, I’m sure the photo to the right looks awful. This is the registration line. I used this photo because it captures three things; first, that the place was absolutely mobbed, which rocked, second, that I was nervous, and third, that the energy level just seemed to vibrate. I know that sounds really silly, but it’s true; the excitement was palpable.

The General Session started at 8:15. In the time between registration and then, I found Melissa, and also got to meet Laura Shanley. WOW! Can you say, total rampaging hero worship manifested? I have been a HUGE fan of Laura’s work for a while, and admired her unbelievable strength in standing up for what she believes in, in the face of ridicule, scorn, and condemnation. Laura’s writings went a long way towards rebuilding my strength when I was preparing for my VBAC, and getting to meet her live was even better than I’d imagined.

The first talk in the General Session was given by the amazing Rixa Freeze, who talked about Intuition as Authoritative Knowledge. If anyone is ever going to be able to make the case that what birthing mothers know is every bit as valid as the Machine That Goes Ping, it’s Rixa.

The second talk was Dr. Sarah Buckley, on “Birth is Safe: Interference is Risky”. Besides just delighting in her accent, it was so nice to hear someone “professional” say what I’ve strongly believed for ages.

The third talk is still rocking my world. I came very, very close to not going. Rachel Correa spoke on “Stella’s Life & Stillbirth at Home”. I decided to stay, and I am so so so grateful I did. Normally, stillbirth stories are more sad than anything, but Stella’s story was nothing short of the most inspirational thing I think I have ever seen. And honestly, who ever seriously considers stillbirth? It’s like the people (oh, like me) who skip the sections in the books about cesareans. Rachel gave me the opportunity to really explore what a stillbirth might mean, in the most empowering way I can imagine. It didn’t stop me (and Melissa, and honestly, everyone I could see) from sobbing openly at the video of the moment of Stella’s stillbirth, but I keep coming back to their story over, and over, and I feel so incredibly honored to have shared it. Thank you, Rachel and Scott, and also thank you Carla, for recognizing the incredible value of the presentation, and putting it in a general session, where there wasn’t anything competing with it that might have made it easier to look away.

After that (can you imagine? More! Past that!) the track sessions began. Choosing sessions had been done weeks earlier, and was really tough for me. On the one hand, I was going as an ICAN person, but on the other, I’m six months pregnant, so choosing between the intensely political and the thoroughly personal was sometimes pretty rough. For Track 1, I was lucky that I got to compromise on those two choices, and attend Sheila Stubbs‘ “The Womanly Art of Birthing; Secrets Doctors Don’t Know”. Because I’ve been reading Sheila for years, both her book and on the ICAN yahoo group, there wasn’t anything terribly new, but Sheila is so delightful in person, it was wonderful to sit there and replay her wisdom complete with real-time voiceover. Her slides were awesome, and I’m going to steal a few of them if I ever get a chance to speak on birth again.

Track 2, I indulged myself in a session that was personal, Heather Brock’s “Postpartum Fitness: More Than Getting Back into your Jeans”. Heather is Carla’s daughter, and therefore she’s about as “birthy” as they get. Her session was fabulous, and she even addressed the dreaded diastasis recti in a way that not only was new, but funny and accessable too. And you gotta love a session where everyone, even this new baby who I got to coo at, was on the floor.

That session, over at 5 PM, gave me just enough time to socialize a bit in the hallways, head upstairs, and get ready for the Awards Banquet that evening. (Yes! More! Egads! I’m tired just trying to summarize!)

The Awards Banquet was wonderful. Many worthy folks were honored for many worthy things, and honestly, fatigue and a spectacular meal (yes! probably the best banquet-style buffet I think I’ve ever seen in my life!) had dulled me into sort of a fog. And then, the highlight of the evening, a talk by Dr. Michel Odent. After a day of highs and lows and just amazing energy input and output, sitting there in a lovely hall with lovely people and lovely food listening to a lovely man speak in his lovely accent of, well, the hormones of love, was just . … well… OK, it was lovely. Heather Cushman-Dowdee summed it up well (she was at my table, and ended up moving to a different one once everyone was done shuffling to make room for partners) in her cartoon, “Oxytocin!“.

Absolutely reeling from the input, I got back to my room at around 10PM, and practically fell into bed. Because as amazing as today was… there were still two whole days, and my presentation at the very end, ahead of me. Sweet dreams!

Tags: Carla_Hartley, Dr._Michel_Odent, Dr._Sarah_Buckley, Hathor_the_Cowgoddess, ICAN, Laura_Shanley, Sheila_Stubbs, Trust_Birth, Trust_Birth_Conference

On Thursday March 6, I kissed my kids and my fabulous hubby, and headed out to catch my flight down south to attend the Trust Birth Conference.

Mixed emotions? You bet. I hate leaving the guys behind. And although I know they don’t really need me, it’s always weird to walk away. I try hard to keep two things in mind, when I have this sort of thing happen; first, I’m trying to make the world better for them. And second, it’s good for kids to see what passion about a cause looks like. Kids model what you do far more than what you say, and it’d be goofy to talk about making birth better without doing anything. So my boys, from their tiny ages, know that Mama may be leaving them, but she’s doing it to go help figure out how to help other mamas have their babies like we had Kestrel. And that’s something that Rowan both understands and supports. So while I miss them horribly, we all know why it’s happening.

I‘m also lucky enough to be married to the sort of man who not only gets it, but supports it, and has planned a fantastic visit up north with the Grandparents (hi Mom2!) to play in the snow and be loved and adored and generally have a great time not having a single thought about “Where’s Mama?” Thanks Jason; you really are amazing.

The flight was utterly uneventful. Flying midday on a commuter route is good stuff; we had a teeny, three-seats-across plane, and very experienced travelers, so boarding was super smooth, and everyone settled into their entertainment of choice really rapidly. I was working through a copy of David Allen’s Getting Things Done, which is intimidating, but excellent. Being more efficient and productive is gonna be neat. Once I close all my open loops, that is. Wheeeeeeee!

By a stroke of sheer luck, one of the conference assistants, Lennon, was able to come pick me up from LAX, so I ended up with personal curb-to-curb service. Fab! Thanks Lennon! And then up to my room, which I knew I’d be spending almost no time in, so I snapped a quick photo, just so I’d remember it.

Within 15 minutes of arriving, ICAN’s amazing Webmaster, Melissa Collins, was at my room. It is SO COOL to meet people in person, when you’ve been practically attached at the hip for months on end. We had just completed the initial phase of the redesign, revamp, and relaunch of ICAN’s website, which basically involved insane hours, all-nighters, and lightning-fast IMing fingers. So finally getting to kick back and hang out live and in person was just awesome, and worth the price of admission all by itself.

Right about the time my stomach started growling, Melissa pointed out the Cheesecake Factory across the street, so we headed out for a dinner/business meeting (who knew that Thai lettuce wraps could inspire so much creative geek thinking?). Two and a half hours and a very full tummy later, I got back to my room and passed out, knowing that that was the last solid sleep I was going to get for a few days. And I was so right…

Tags: ICAN, Trust_Birth, Trust_Birth_Conference