ElementalMom

I am so stoked to see a piece of reporting in a major news venue that gets it so very, very right, and also features a friend of mine, the inestimable Christie Craigie-Carter!

Obstretricians debate whether Caesarean section is always best for breech babies

Some American doctors still do breech deliveries if the mother requests it and the circumstances permit.

“If you select your breech patient carefully and thoughtfully, then it’s as safe for the baby as having a Caesarean section, and in some cases may be safer,” said Stuart Fischbein, a California obstetrician. He has delivered about 200 breech babies vaginally but in August was told by his hospital to stop. “The bottom line is litigation mitigation and economics,” he said. Regardless of expert guidelines, the reality is that few doctors who graduated in the last decade have the skills to deliver breech babies naturally. Lawrence said American medical students are taught the theory behind vaginal breech deliveries and have access to computer simulation training, but exposure to real cases is limited to residents who happen to be on call when a mother presents with a breech baby in advanced labor and it is too late to perform a Caesarean.

Canada faces the same problem. Having changed its guidelines, Lalonde’s group has put out a call to older physicians with the skills to deliver breech babies naturally to teach younger doctors. “The response has been good,” he said. “We’re going with the approach that this is something that has to be offered to all women, in all hospitals.”

Craigie-Carter, for one, would approve of that approach. After Joshua was born, she went on to have two more breech babies. The first was delivered by C-section. But for the second one, she found a skilled midwife near her New York home who was willing to help her deliver naturally. Her son Ryan was born without complications.

This post, from Sheridan, is absolutely brilliant. Read it and laugh. And then, if you’re me, get vaguely ill, because it’s come to that.

Restaurant Wars

I’m working on writing a book about moving aboard the boat. I’ll write more about that more on my other blog. But I’m doing a lot of cannibalizing of content from this blog and the other one. Most importantly to this post, this morning, I rewrote Rowan’s birth story.

Most of my readers here know that Rowan’s birth was insanely traumatic for me. An unplanned, unwanted cesarean, that birth catapulted me into a year of depression followed by some of the angriest years of my life, and a vocation of activism in the arena of birth. No woman anywhere should have to go through what I did, and yet, the (unnecessary) cesarean rate in this country continues to skyrocket. It’s a crisis, it’s a human rights violation, and it’s a complete international embarassment.

But that’s not what I am writing about this morning.

I wrote the story once, when I was still recovering, and it was the sweetness and light that women usually describe their cesareans as. “Totally necessary” they say. Bullshit, says I. But at the time, I’d have killed you for suggesting mine wasn’t. I wrote it a second time, once I was recovering, in the depths of my depression, in the hopes that women reading it would learn from my journey and not have to take the same one themselves. It was all about figuring out where things had gone wrong, in order to make different, better choices later.

This time, I am rewriting it as what its deepest meaning and highest purpose (for me) might possibly be. Rowan’s birth is what finally, unequivocally taught me that if I wanted it done right, I had to do it myself. That relying on the System for anything at all was a sure path to madness, and that while independence carries its own problems, those problems are at least unilaterally the result of your own choices, and not someone else’s. Someone else who almost certainly has their own paycheck and ass as a higher concern than your  well being.

So here’s to Version 3 of Rowan’s birth. It’s taken me seven long, hard, uphill, introspective, kick-in-the-teeth years to get to the place where I am grateful for the lesson, moreso than grieving of the process that got me here.

Aurora and I spent our weekend in Dallas/Ft. Worth at the Birth Controversies conference. It was awesome, and I’ll blog all about it once I catch back up to my life. But for now, here’s the teaser. Aurora and I were interviewed to back up Deborah Pascali-Bonaro, the director of “Orgasmic Birth”. Check it out! Go to The 33 TV main page, scroll down to the videos, and search for “Orgasmic Birth”. And then come on back and tell me what you think. (And yes, I already know the anchor was a ninny. You can’t save everyone.)

So I got Kestrel on TV for doing EC. And now Aurora for a birth conference. And in breaking news, Parents magazine is doing an article on the whole family for an issue on extreme parenting. =) Gotta love being on the freak edge, eh?

Finally! I know! Nearly five months later, I have gotten it written up!

http://www.theexcellentadventure.com/birth/Aurora/BirthofAMH2.html

Enjoy!

I‘m due to have this baby any time now.

It’s obvious if you know me and know my dates. I’ve been telling people “I’m having a Gemini”, so that’s a clear clue. And of course, I’m huge, so that’s a dead giveaway.

If even one more person asks me “haven’t you had that baby yet?” I’m gonna stick ‘em in the eye with a fork. Cause clearly, they aren’t actually using their eyes for, y’know, observation or anything. And that’s just the people I see in person. The oh-so-subtle “oh, I was just thinking of you and thought I’d call…” phone calls aren’t much better. I’ve put myself on self-imposed phone rest (like bed rest, but better), and made Jason answer the dratted thing.

I was pondering, this morning, as I awoke having yet again not gone into labor in the night, what it is that makes people get in such a hurry at the end of a pregnancy. It’s like at 36-37 weeks, the baby has to stay in, then at 38-39, everyone starts freaking out and being impatient. “Is it there yet? Is it there yet? Have you had it yet?” It sounds like little kids at Christmas. Or at the end of a road trip. Or… and it struck me… like people who are excited about an event, but have no actual work to perform to ensure said event comes off.

Think about it. Adults who are responsible for filling the gas tank, doing the auto maintenance, doing the trip planning, doing the driving, parceling out the snacks… they never ask “are we there yet?”… they just stare out the windows. Adults who are fully engaged with the holiday madness of shopping, party-having, cooking, planning, etc, always are startled by how fast the calendar moves, and wish for an additional week or two.

So here’s my solution. People who ask me if I’ve had that baby yet? Clearly, they haven’t enough to do. The next person who asks me that question gets invited to bring a casserole, do a load of dishes or laundry, handle the grocery shopping, or rub my feet (since helping actually gestate this little punkin is physiologically impossible). I figure if I start involving the rushers in the process, they’ll realize there’s so much going on, that clearly, they need to either pitch in fully, or maybe plan themselves a road trip.

I spent another half an hour on the phone with HR. They’ve upped they ante.

The rules, if you’ll recall from part I of this rant, are that if you’re disabled during the focal review period, you are ineligible for raises, etc, until you come back, at manager’s discretion. I happen to think this is ridiculous, since the timing of my pregnancy is random (basically), and it’s discriminatory to hold a penalty over my head because I happen to have gotten pregnant when I did. People who take vacation time are not penalized, and it’s a similar situation. But because the state feels that pregnancy equals disability, and since disability is seldom of finite duration (unlike maternity, sigh), they feel the need to protect themselves. I understand it within the disability context, but I find it to be highly irritating in this circumstance.

So… I figured out during my last two pregnancies that if I were to go on disability (maternity), then go off and go onto vacation for the focal review period, then to go back on maternity (disability), it’d preserve my general sense of fairness, dot all the correct “i’s”, and be done with the charade.

However, the charade has escalated. No one can tell me when, precisely, the “focal review period” is. No one has dates. Nowhere on the HR website, nowhere in the manual they have for the phone center folks, nowhere, are there actual dates that define the “focal review period”. Everyone’s sure it’s in June or July. No one can say precisely when. But everyone can see clearly that if I’m on disability (maternity), I miss out, and it creates more paperwork and hassle for my manager, and some financial loss for me, potentially.

Seriously uncool.

The gentleman I just got off the phone with took 20 minutes trying to find the information. Finally, he asked me why I cared. So I explained. He could tell me that if I was out on leave for more than 1/4 of the total focal review period, I was ineligible, but he was, again, completely unable to define “focal review period” as a set of calendar dates.

So everyone’s clear that there are penalties and I will suffer them, but absolutely no one can tell me what the rules we’re playing by are. Frankly, I’m beginning to feel ever-so-slightly oppressed.

The gentleman, whose curiosity is piqued, promises to call me back tomorrow, “after he’s jumped on the focal guys”. I’m looking forward to finding a nice, simple answer. Normally, this kind of sparring intrigues me, but at this point, I’m baffled at the inconsistency. I am very lucky, in that my manager rocks, and I’m not actually worried about the penalties of the situation. It’s more a “fighting the principle of the thing” than an actual fight for my check, but frankly, it’s unfair to put myself and my manager in that position. I’m dependent on the kindliness, reasonability, and sense of fair play that my manager has, which is not a luxury everyone has. What about women who get pregnant and work for rules-based creatures? How do they fare? And again, I’d have known none of this, but for my prior two pregnancies. The information is not at all forthcoming.

So stay tuned, mommies and iconoclasts. This could get entertaining.

I blogged a teeny bit about my July 31 miscarriage here. And until I was discussing the due date for the baby I’m carrying now with Mom2, I had forgotten that the baby I miscarried was due right around now.

I miscarried between Rowan and Kestrel too. That one, an eight-weeker and so-called “silent” miscarriage, was horrible, because I still felt broken from the cesarean, and took the miscarriage as a sign that meant I could not do this birth thing that normal women could do. I was an emotional wreck for ages. And that Christmas was kinda sad, because that baby would have been due then. A Christmas baby.

This time, I knew that miscarriages are just a normal part of a breeder’s life, and I wasn’t so freaked out about that; I was just very very sad. This one was not at all “silent”, and therefore I was also physically wrecked for a while. And that baby was due around my birthday. A Birthday baby.

Instead, we caught this one, who is due smack in between Kestrel’s birthday and Rowan’s. There will be a nearly perfect three-year spacing between our kids, which is precisely what Jason was hoping for, but too wise to “plan” for, since we all know that biology does what it does when it cares to. My three kids (how weird is that to type! Much less to think!) will be May-June-July. Late spring/early summer birthdays, perfect for parties, far enough apart that they don’t collide unpleasantly with each other, close enough together that they will all always remember each other.

And that, right there? That says “hand of the Divine” all over it.

See, the two miscarriages? Nice due times and all, easy for me to remember. But as my parenting guru pal Valarie told me once (and it rocked my world)… my children will be in each other’s lives far longer than they’ll be in mine. It’s easy, as a parent, to constantly frame your kids in terms of their relationship with you, but that’s not the primary relationship considering the scope of their lives; the primary relationship is with each other. And somehow, this baby picked a time snuggled right in between its brothers. Jason and I are both winter birthdays, but our children are the bright lights of spring and summer, all clustered together.

It’s another reminder that they are each other’s family, long after Jason and I have moved on to whatever adventure comes next. I know that there are some who feel that trying to ascribe meaning to tragedy is simply the coping mechanism of a gullible brain, and that’s fine, they can think that. But for me, for the rest of my life, when “birthday season” rolls around, I’ll be reminded that pretty much even the most awful events can sometimes end up turning out perfectly.