ElementalMom

La Leche League founder Edwina Froehlich died last Sunday. She was 93.
I am completely devastated. Edwina pretty much embodied everything I admire in an activist. And also proved that even if you come late to your passion, you can change the world.

My favorite article about her, so far, is the Chicago Tribune piece. Some tidbits:

In the 1940s, Mrs. Froehlich witnessed her older sister Pauline go through what were then standard hospital childbirth procedures: plenty of drugs, the use of forceps and no fathers allowed, said another son, state Rep. Paul Froehlich (D-Schaumburg). Her sister also was discouraged from breast-feeding.

“That experience led mom to seek a better way,” Paul Froehlich said.

Newspapers would not run stories or meeting notices that included the word “breast,” so the group used the Spanish word for milk, “leche,” for its name.

How fabulous is that? Smack into some stupid arbitrary rule, and work around it creatively. See what’s wrong with the world, and change it. Some other fun bits from the New York Times piece:

Edwina Froehlich,… was inspired to help found La Leche League to support breast-feeding after being told at the age of 35 that she was too old to make breast milk for her baby…

A pioneer on several fronts of motherhood, she worked for Young Christian Workers, a Roman Catholic lay organization, before marrying John Froehlich when she was in her early 30s. She had her first child a couple of years later, making her comparatively old to have a first child at the time, and she made the controversial decision to forgo giving birth in a hospital in favor of a more natural delivery in her Franklin Park, Ill., home, with an obstetrician attending.

“We used to tell the mothers the three main obstacles to successful breast-feeding were doctors, hospitals and social pressure,” Mrs. White said.

It is so hard to be an “older” mother. It’s so hard to stand up when the world wants to shame you for doing what’s biologically appropriate in birthing and feeding your offspring. Having had a cesarean with my first baby, and feeling that breastfeeding was at least something I could do right, it’s because of Edwina’s work that I was able, 2.5 weeks out from that cesarean, to participate in the Berkeley, CA Guinness World Record Breastfeeding event. It healed a lot of the “broken” feelings I was working through. Breastfeeding has also been a really good arena for me to use in my birth activism work, to show mothers how very wrong doctors can be about very basic things.

But at the time Edwina and her six cohorts (Marian Tompson, Mary White, Mary Ann Cahill, Mary Ann Kerwin, Viola Lennon, and Betty Wagner) got started with LLLI, breastfeeding in America was down to 20% of women. It’s not a whole lot better now, but without them to hold back the tide, who knows how much harder it might have been for me to get the support and encouragement I needed for this critical aspect of mothering?

So thank you, Edwina, for standing up for what you believed in, and making it that much easier for me to do so as well. You’ll be missed.

Tags: , Breastfeeding, Edwina Froehlich, La Leche League

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

Because my dental insurance finally agreed to pay up, I had the money, in hand, finally, to pay off one of my seriously delinquent bills. We’re talking, haven’t paid in three months. OK, fine, I’m a bad dog, but if the money isn’t there, it isn’t there, nothing I can do about that. But yesterday, the checks arrived, so today, I decided to give the fine folks at CitiBank a call, and clear up my account problems. There are several messages on my answering machine (sigh. I am a bad dog) from a woman with Collections, listing her number and direct extension. So logically, I’d start there, yeah?

So I call. There is no way to request a direct extension from that 800 number. I get the operator. I give her my social, my account number, mother’s maiden name, address, and phone. She tells me that the extension I’ve given her is for the St. Louis office, and cannot be directly accessed from her switchboard, but she’ll send the woman an email letting her know I am trying to reach her, and in the meantime, transfer me to another department.

I‘m on hold for 9 minutes, when Katrice picks up. I give her my social, my account number, mother’s maiden name, address, and phone. She is satisfied it’s me. Unfortunately, my account is more than 29 days past due, and she can only do those, so she has to transfer me.

I‘m on hold for 8 minutes when Jorge picks up. He’s very perky. I give him my social, my account number, mother’s maiden name, address, and phone. He is satisfied it’s me. I say, immediately “look, I’ve been on hold and bounced around and I just really want to give you guys my money, please!” He laughs. And then cannot get his computer to bring me up. Apparently, his section of the Bad Dog Hasn’t Paid Bills pie doesn’t include me either. I listen to him pound on his keyboard a bit. I offer some suggestions. In complete defeat, he says he has to transfer me. At this point, I’m not terribly surprised. I wish him well, and hear him cussing, in Spanish, at his machine as he transfers me.

Have I mentioned that CitiBank has dreadful hold music? Have I mentioned that at this point, roughly 20 minutes into my adventure, I’ve heard the music track loop twice? Have I mentioned that I’ve heard every ad they have for every financial product, and the irony of advertising investment products when you’re on hold for Collections is just overwhelming?

So I’m taken off hold by Menashi. She’s Indian. I give her my account number, my social, mother’s maiden name, phone number, and address. Just to, you know, change it up a bit. Menashi is far more formal about obtaining my information and hearing my story. But apparently, once I’ve spent two minutes on that, she regrets to inform me (I adore formal Indian phone manners) that she can only deal with people whose accounts are more than 30 but less than 60 days overdue. And that’s not me. So she’s transferring me to Collections (which is where, if you’ll recall, I called in the first place). And sure enough, it’s the same 800 number and extension I tried while making my first call. A total of 27 minutes ago. Menashi is pretty sure she can directly transfer me to the right place, despite my borderline panic at being sent back to where I started. She’s sweetly reassuring, but hits the hold button before I can finish babbling.

Seven minutes after that, Mitch in Collections picks up the phone. Desperate, I blurt out “I really, really, just want to give someone my money. That’s all I want to do. I have been on and off of hold four times, I’ve been transferred around, I’ve been on the phone over 35 minutes, no one can work with me, PLEASE before I rattle off all my numbers, will you PLEASE tell me you’ll take my money?” Mitch is laughing so hard by the time I finish, he can barely choke out a request for my information. I give him my accountnumbersocialsecurityphoneaddressmother’smaiden all in one breath at this stage. I’ve had practice, and it shows. Mitch dissolves into laughter again, and says “yes ma’am, we at CitiBank would be happy to take your money.”

And what followed from there was one of the more pleasant conversations I’ve had in a while. He was funny, he was human, he was understanding. We chatted about why my payment was late, and when I explained the whole thing about having two mortgages and supporting five people on one paycheck, but we had this dream and this boat and blah blah blah, he gave me a really great speech about not letting bills interfere with dreams, and started coming up with ideas to help me out. When I commented on his rare but delightful humanity, he replied “well you know… we’re all just people, and anyone could have a problem at any time, and it’s not that you’re bad, it’s that you’re in a situation. I’d be an ass not to recognize that and work with it.” He also waived my fees, in exchange for my “unusual determination” wading through the phone tree to get my bill paid.

So the lesson here? Even in banking, sometimes you can find a real live thinking human being. And they are blessed amongst bankers, for they still have a soul. And you can bet…they’ll get prioritized in the bill rotation.

Tags: bills, CitiBank, dreams, Finance

Things are incredibly ugly, financially, for my little family right now. Our house is on the market, and isn’t moving. Larry, our agent, tells us that’s not a problem, that we need to be patient, and just to hang on for a while. That despite all the media fearmongering, the market is not so much depressed, as just not insane like it’s been the last few years. That it’s gorgeous, that people are looking, and that in a little time, we’ll be looking at a sale agreement.

Nice, but in the meantime, we’re supporting the house, the boat, and five people, on my one income. Needless to say, the ends are not exactly meeting where they need to. I’m having to do the bill shell game, where you pay these four on time this month and short these four, then switch. And make a lot of grovelling phone calls.

One particular bill I’d been ignoring, started calling. I ignored them. They called four or five times a day. Since I didn’t have the money, I let the phone ring. But there’s the physical, visceral reaction; my heartrate sped up, my shoulders hunched, I blushed.

Classic shame, pure and simple.

I finally got sick and tired of it, and resolved to face the music. So I looked at the account the next paycheck, and you know how much I owed them? $250. You know how late the bill was? Less than 15 days. I called them, to do a pay by phone, and end the madness. The woman I spoke to was incredibly friendly, waived all the fees when I explained why the bill was late, and wished us great luck on the house sale.

The whole drama could have been avoided, had I faced up instead of cringing. I think about the days I spent wincing, and I am chagrined at myself.

I think it’s human nature to feel some degree of shame when you can’t make ends meet. It’s normal to be a little embarassed when you have to say “I just don’t have the money for that right now, can you be patient with me?” It’s not in the nature of creditors to be kind or patient or understanding. But you know, sometimes, creditors are staffed by people, and those people do sometimes have a heart. So here’s my thank you to all of them.

Here are the fantastic pictures that Dana took at our ill-fated trip to the lake. Enjoy! And doesn’t Rowan look just like Jason in the first image?

http://www.kelpcritter.com/photography/LaureenKids/

Thanks Dana!

Dear Mom at Lake Anza yesterday…I didn’t catch your name, and for that, I’m sorry.

We had had a long day. Things didn’t go as planned. My friend’s car made it to the parking lot by the Merry Go Round, and then promptly exploded. It needed to be towed, so we ended up being stuck on the grassy hill by the Merry Go Round for over an hour, waiting for a tow truck. There are only so many rounds a kid can do, and mine were thoroughly bored by the time the truck arrived. The only other point of interest, the food stand, offered up dietary horrors. And of course, with the bell of the carousel going off, nap time for Kestrel was a total no-go.

The truck’s arrival was cool, as was the process of getting my friend’s car onto the flatbed and on its way. The twin trails of coolant and transmission fluid streaked the parking lot beautifully in red and green, and that was neat too, although not for jumping in, sadly.

By the time we made it down the hill to the lake, both the boys were tired. Really tired. And hot and sticky too. So the water was such a joy. You shared your child’s toys with mine, and made their day that much better, and for that, I’m really grateful. I know I looked unprepared, and I was. I’d never been there before, and had no idea what to expect.

Eventually, came the point in the day where I could see that fatigue was coming on strong. I thought I’d timed it so that we’d head into the changing rooms, get clothes on, and get up the hill to take advantage of the coming crash.

I was utterly mistaken

Kestrel threw the tantrum of all tantrums. Complete with screaming, eyes rolling into his head, flailing… it was madness. It was all I could do to keep him off the sandy wet floor and in my arms. Rowan sat there trying to put his shoes on, without much success. And still Kestrel screamed.

Most of the people in the dressing room shot me filthy looks. A few people commented about my child. As if theirs had never done that. As if they would have done better. I tried really hard to screen them out, but you know, when you’re sitting there feeling a failure anyway because you’ve not been pre-emptive enough to stop this from happening in the first place. it feels like little mental blow-darts.

And then you again, lady with the little girl, the shared toys. You came over, made eye contact, sat right next to me, and said, “I have some Rescue Remedy, if it would help.”

I am quite sure that when angels in heaven speak, they sound very much like that.

You got the little vial, sat beside me again, and we got a few drops into his mouth. And immediately, the intensity (if not the volume) decreased. You gave me a little hug, said “good luck!”, and went on about your business.

I don’t know if I’ll be lucky enough to meet you again and thank you directly. All I know is that people like you, who do not fear to step in and help rather than judge, are so rare and so valuable and so very much to be treasured. I hope that if I am ever in your shoes, I will be able to offer the help you offered me.

And the Rescue Remedy is going into the day pack now.