Spread the Word!

  It’s crazy leaving New Mexico. It truly is a different world out here. It feels different and smells thicker. Sweeter almost. Like flowers, perhaps? More people for sure, and they look fresh. New to me. I can’t stop staring. Airports are fun places. Entertaining.

And now I am here, in DC. Where the cherry blossoms bloomed two days ago. My cab driver told me. He was from Ethiopia. His wife had three babies. She had to fight her doctors, he said, to not have a c/s for her last breech birth.

“He was so little, I refused. Oh….they were angry, I could see that. But then they turned it. We watched it on the TV while they turned – he was so small, lots of room.  They just wanted to cut him out.”

He asked so many questions. He couldn’t believe babies came out in the water. He asked the normal questions about water birth, but his eyes lit up! He said he would look for a Birth Center for his next birth. They are Greek Orthodox and will have many babies he said. Lots of children in his family – his mom had 10. All natural, he said. It is different here in America, he said. The women all have c- sections. Why?

And the New Yorker who sat behind me on my first plane today. Straight red hair, bangs. Thick accent – sounded like home. As the plane taxied into the gate, she stood up. “I overheard you say you were a midwife! I just had to tell you, my great-grandmother was a midwife in the Village. She used to tell me stooooories. You wouldn’t believe them. When the babies came out small, they would put them in a little cardboard box and put them in the oven.” My seat mate shook his head in disbelief. No. They couldn’t have. She enthusiastically nodded.

“Amazing – the stories,”  she said.

And so here I am in a foreign country that is the capital of my own. Here to talk about supporting Birth Centers across the nation. Meetings, strategic planning and I am such a baby at it all. Just pulling my head out of the water myself. Oh – there is more work to be done – outside the birth room? I am just getting the hang of that! Here we go…. spread the word!

Good Morning Baby

It’s early morning. The sun is just beginning to come up over the mountains. The Birth Center window is huge, it frames the outside and here we all are in the kitchen.  I am sitting on a heating pad, because it always feels extra cold to me when I haven’t slept all night.  A mama is laboring in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, on a pillow. Resting in between contractions and eating oatmeal too. We feed her spoonfuls when she doesn’t notice.

Her contractions are steady, her groans soft and reassuring to me. She is well supported by her husband and our apprentice. Sips offered gently, spoonfuls of honey soaked oats. And she vomits. Over and over again, but she willingly continues to eat. She takes sips of water and juice when offered. Her eyes remain closed. She is in her own world. We call it “laborland.”

The heartbeat gallops along. It is a boy. She already knows this and has brought  “boy” stuff in from her car. My coffee is slowly percolating, I can smell it and it is much more appetizing than my chamomile tea that I have been drinking. My own oatmeal bowl is empty. I am grateful for the small mason jar of half and half I brought with me. After the phone call,  I stumbled into the kitchen, dressed quickly, a little cold. Brushed my teeth – and my mind on coffee, I quietly dug through the box of lids. An accomplishment for sure.

Joan calls at 5:45, she’s an early riser and she is already making lists of things to do today.  I’m grateful for her motivation as I still feel a bit sleepy.

My own family doesn’t even know I am gone yet. My bed is warm, cozy and half empty now. I am lucky to be cuddled often and think about returning to that bed tonight. I’ll have the birth story to reflect on as I lay down.

Good Morning!

Unsupported

I recently received a letter from a client expressing to me in the most gentle of terms that she didn’t feel supported during her longish labor. 

Oh my gosh. It was such a hard letter to get. This is one of those phenomenally adorable moms with bangs that I want to emulate. Her baby boy is the cutest and reminds me of my own long ago scrumptious toddlers. I love her and enjoy seeing her around town.

I was shocked. But then I felt it. Immediately. Yes. There was a bit of hesitation when she saw me. It wasn’t a two way love affair. Now I recognize it. She felt abandoned during her labor. This makes me feel absolutely sick to my stomach.  I remember the night. My apprentice was in there with her and I consciously didn’t go in there. I try hard to get my ego out of the way. (This can be hard.) I want to be the one, I want to be in there suggesting and supporting. Smiling and soothing. I do. I want to be that person. That is the person they will remember forever.

Yet we allow and encourage our apprentices to be in there. She may have been too new. 

But also – I don’t believe in “managing” a labor. I believe in allowing couples to be alone. To get as primal as they need to. I want them to move in those ways you move and sound only when unobserved. To groan and strain and not be covered if they don’t want to be. Our bodies work best when unwatched. We need privacy. We really do. 

Then there is less temptation to interfere, to manage. To change. I know a woman can do it. She doesn’t need me.

But YIKES – this woman misinterpreted all of this. And I just feel so sad about it. I explained and apologized. And she totally got it. But it doesn’t change the fact that she felt alone for her labor. Unsupported. And that just breaks my heart. 

Being Alone

 

I was able to go away for almost an entire week. It was for a conference of the AABC (American Association of Birth Centers). I left near  sunset on my daughter’s  Birthday. We had already celebrated a bunch with a trip to Ojo, yummy homemade pudding pie, gifts on our sun-soaked patio, I was packed and ready to go.

The drive to Albuquerque was with the sun in my eyes through the canyon, but the trees were positively glowing in the fall light. Golds and yellows – you know that feeling and I have certainly written about it – beauty you want to consume! I listened to music in my quiet car, almost unable to believe that I was alone. No children. Nobody. Strange and even surreal. I’m not sure I have spent significant time alone in over 17 years. (I mean more than a few hours.) Imagine.

I enjoy it too.

It is always so interesting to leave our little town. Flying into a different culture – and Florida could certainly be a different culture. A different country. Tropical, humid. It smells a bit mildewy. Louder, maybe. I surely didn’t see very much. The inside of the resort hotel and snippets and some minutes and walks on the beach. Sunrise and Sunset.

Lots of workshops, meetings. Administrative and Clinical. New faces and some I knew. I love that sort of thing. I love the knowledge, the newness and my feeling of wanting to soak it all in. Again – that consume thing.

So I gathered it up to take home with me.

 

It is now in a glass beer stein given to Falko by his grandfather. He’s a bit worried that the shells may scratch it. I promised him they wouldn’t.  So I woke up early, drank coffee from thick white mugs, ate the resort’s breakfast, and took notes and more notes.

I worked up the courage to finally meet some new midwives on the last night. Ordered a beer and a burger and we sat outside near the sand trading stories in the very lukewarm and thick night air. Love the stories and the similarities among midwives. We all share the same trials. The same joys. The work.

 

We’re not so alone in this after all.

 

Thank you for not bleeding……

So there was definitely a recent moment (maybe 10),  when I wondered why I midwife. I found myself, in between births, lying in the darkened “pink room” on the bed. I had planned on lying there and crying and feeling overwhelmed. You know – I wanted to embrace it all. But the phone rang and it was a “trying not to be frantic” postpartum mama. So I talked to her extensively instead. And by the end of the conversation, before I had any time to muster up any real tears, the door to the Birth Center opened (again) and a not so cheery hello was called!

Five hours later, the baby I caught redeemed my entire life choice. It made up for the missed evenings with the girls, the warm bed I have to leave in the middle of the night, often. It made up for the cold and dark car I drive to births in the middle of night with – shivering so intensely that I feel like I cannot even steer! It made up for the 3:00 am lull, the painful, bodily sensation of exhaustion. (The hard table on my forehead feels like the ultimate luxury.)

This work is an experience of superlatives. Each single birth.

The lack of bleeding that ensued in this birth freed me to love my calling again. My clothing was cleaned by hydrogen peroxide, my skin scrubbed with soap and water and my heart by this mama and baby.

 

Going back to High School…..

We walked in to the High School and the first thing we said was, “Well of course our teen mom, Emily, (all names changed) could do birth no problem, she does this every single day!”

What an opportunity we had today. The biology teacher, a beautiful local woman, gave birth to two of her children with us at the Birth Center. Joan caught one, I caught one. (Years apart, of course!)  She invited us to her anatomy class to talk  about pregnancy, gestation, birth, midwifery and our Birth Center.

My initial fear  nervousness gave way to excitement at all the things we could talk about to our captive audience. Here were approximately 25 teens who were forced to listen AND even take notes on my effusive and enthusiastic ramblings about natural birth, undisturbed birth, pregnancy, conception and gosh – anything I wanted to say! Amazing. Usually I only have two teens to talk to!

My apprentice and I sat down yesterday, in between appointments in a busy clinic day to brainstorm ideas and fun activities to  make the presentation interesting and engaging. I tried to admit that not everyone loves thinking about blastocysts, cervixes and mucous plugs!  We brought tons of props: placentas attached to umbilical cords, multiple pelvises, a baby with a snap for a belly button, old-school flip charts of uteri (I love that word), fallopian tubes and fimbria!  We talked about contraception, condoms and pre-ejaculatory fluid!

I said the word vagina multiple times!

It was so fun.

We showed an amazing animation of conception to birth.

We handed out folded up slips of paper with fun facts written on it. Each kid read a fact, then wrote it up on the board. We talked about the facts…. fun ones like:

Did you know that babies born to moms who ate chocolate every day in the third trimester were happier at 6 months old?

Did you know that an egg lives for 24 hours?

Did you know that 1/3 of all babies are born with the umbilical cord around their neck? 

And this is the best. One of our teen moms who had given birth 4 weeks ago with us, came with her boyfriend and baby and shared her birth story. My heart opened so wide to see this young girl, just barely 16, hold her, chubbiest ever, baby with its already long black hair and talk about her contractions. She talked of her birth and said, “It wasn’t that hard, I just let it happen.” 

What a message.

I, personally, learned everything from Dr. Ruth. (Anyone remember her?) Every night I would get in bed with my transistor radio muffled under the covers and listen to Dr. Ruth. (And you wondered, mom, why I didn’t mind going to bed so early!) It was an incredible education.

We were asked to come back to 8th period and then again tomorrow. So Rachel and I went to get a coffee on the plaza to evaluate the class and make improvements. I got a foamy chai in my green mug and we split an almond croissant at the sunny window.  We asked the women who worked there, a yoga studio owner and teacher and a hipster singer/musician, what they wished they had learned in high school. A fun conversation with input from the various coffee-ordering customers ensued….. (If only I were brave to talk about ALL the suggestions…)

Own it! We want to tell you to own it! Own your birth, your sexual health and life! Be proud, brave and strong. Do not be ashamed of your bodies! Love yourself – feel your power. Even and especially when our culture tries to suppress you!

I am so thankful to live and work in a community that invites its Midwives to come and talk to its teens.

The stories we have

Sometimes being a midwife isn’t about catching babies, only. I had the great fortune of attending a wonderful birth this morning – huge and chunky baby boy. (We get super small babies up here at 7500 feet.) A pre-Christmas treat.

But sometimes we spend more time doing other things, thinking and worrying about our new and often young families.

It’s about social work sometimes. It’s about setting boundaries and letting them go too. It’s about seeing where the need is and trying to accommodate, yet not enable.

We see the unbelievable. Often and all the time. We hear people’s stories, we witness so much. It’s hard to know, sometimes, what to do with it all. It is unreal what people carry with them, what they hold inside. The facade is so, so, so thin. When people feel safe, it all tumbles out. So be gentle – truly, the people around you are not having an easy time of it. You would be surprised.

We carry it around with us. We try to put it all in  context and perspective. We try not to become enmeshed, yet remain connected and honest. Open.

To turn or not to turn

View on my way to clinic this morning.....

 

A couple of years ago we had a young first time mama come in. She was driving 2 hours for her appointments at the birth center. She had a sugary, sweet voice, almost like a little girl. And she was darling.  At 28 weeks her baby was breech. At 30 weeks her baby was breech. At 32 weeks her baby was still breech, and I gave her some easy tips on how to turn her baby. Pelvic tilts, moxibustion, and the such.

At 34 weeks her baby was still breech and I felt nervous. I emphasized the need to try these low-key, natural interventions to try to turn the baby. (We are unable to catch breech babies, and no hospital within 2 hours will “do” a breech birth.)  She hadn’t tried any yet. At 36 weeks she came in and her baby was still breech. I asked her how it was going with the tilts and wondered which was working best for her. She said that she hadn’t done anything yet, she believed her baby would turn on its own. I reassured her that her baby might, indeed, turn. But it might not. I encouraged her strongly to try these maneuvers to see if her baby would turn.  She nodded quietly.

Her next visit was not with me, and she was very, very upset with me for not trusting that her baby would be born the way it should be. Her baby wanted to be breech, she said. Why didn’t I accept that? I found that interesting and had to admit that I had not seen it that way at all.

So. The very next month.  We had a client who came in at 30 weeks. Her baby was breech. I didn’t mention anything about turning the baby yet. At 32 weeks her baby was still breech. I mentioned that there were some tricks to turn the baby, but she should trust her baby. It knew how it needed to be born. At 34 weeks her baby was still breech. I told her about pelvic tilts, moxibustion, the Webster technique……  At 36 weeks we talked some more about turning the baby, but emphasized my trust in her body to do the right thing.

At 37 weeks she had an appointment with someone else and was just devastated that I hadn’t made it clear to her how important it was to turn the baby. Why had I been so laissez-faire?  Now her baby was definitely breech and she hadn’t  known how important it was to be doing all the tricks to turn the baby. Her baby was not in a position where a safe vaginal birth would have been possible. She was absolutely crushed that she had to have a c-section. I was too.

Sigh.

So now I know. I will do what I believe in. My clients won’t always love all of my recommendations. They may need an ultrasound that they didn’t want. They may have an extra blood test to rule something out. But I have to practice in the best way I can. And that feels good.

And so it is in life. We will do our best. And sometimes it will be just right, and enough for everyone. And sometimes it won’t be.

As long as I know that, I am clear inside myself that this is the right way. For me. Then there is peace. That is what I am working on.

 

 

Born eight years ago…..

I’ve had a few requests lately for birth stories.  And I, also, want to write more about birth. I don’t want to be cryptic and vague. I want to share these sweet moments, these acts of courage, strength. How about the terrifying moments and the humbling ones too? I’d like to talk about the funny ones, the ones that make you laugh so hard and even when you tell the story 8 years later, it is still hysterically funny. To me anyway.

This was a busy day at the birth center. We only have two birthing rooms in our center. Both have lots of room for squatting, lunging, crawling. There is a beautifully quilted bed in the room and a deep and luxurious tub. We even have a squatting bar. It hooks up to the ceiling. Often people ask us what do you do when there are more than two births happening at the same time.

It rarely happens.

Almost never.

Sometimes it does. This day was one of those nutty days.  We had two midwives on-call for this. We had a first-time mama come in to the pink room. Oh she labored, and labored. She walked, she ate, she vocalized, she squatted. She slept in between contractions. She was there for, gosh, many hours.  In the afternoon, a mama who had already had 5 babies came in and pushed her baby girl out in just 45 minutes. Needless to say the beautiful mama in the pink room was discouraged. She persevered.

Then.

Another mama came in and both rooms had been taken! So we had to go into the exam room. Our tiny little exam room. It has an old hospital bed from the early 1900s – its wooden and quite beautiful. But the mattress is thin. A twin.  This young teen didn’t mind at all – she had birthed two other babies and this one was flying out! Seriously.  The labor was fast and furious. She was in great spirits. She couldn’t wait to be done with her pregnancy and get her skinny jeans on again.

We had a student, a relatively new student as her main support.  This student was lovely, conscientious, detail oriented, nurturing and just a great apprentice. She was kneeling before the woman, on the floor. The wild and primal mama was all over the place, moving, squatting, just super seriously mobile.  The woman exclaimed, “It’s coming!!” Our student peered eagerly between her legs and with an audible pop and a loud sigh of relief the water bag literally exploded in our student’s face. All over! She was dripping from head to toe with the clear fluid!  Her glasses were soaked and fogged immediately!

This young mama took one look at her and burst into the deepest laughter. Hysterical laughter – we all did. She was shaking and crying she was LAUGHING so hard. And with that her pushing urge took over and this teen laughed her baby out. Absolutely and one hundred percent literally!

It was so fun.  What a great way to be born.

Our first mama did give birth, but not until the wee hours of the next morning. That little one was a dawn baby. As so many are.

Midwives are Born

I am realizing more and more why I write this blog. I forget everything that I don’t write down. Seriously.

This is one heck of a glorious fall, I suspect it may be the most beautiful in years. Perhaps a combination of the cold snap, the excessive rain and the warm days have made for brilliant oranges, yellows and even reds here in New Mexico. I feel a craving to be outdoors, in the trees. I love the smell of the dead leaves, it brings me right back to my childhood on the east coast. And I feel frustrated to not be able to capture these glowing trees on my camera. I would like to share the insane light that is captured in these leaves. I mean, it is illuminated and breathtaking. I look around and I have stop my car every few minutes to try and take it all in. I just want to BITE it.

We’ve had a sweet fall. My aunt and uncle from Phoenix came to visit and we hiked, soaked in two different hot springs, ate yummy roasted chicken and veggies slathered in fresh herbs (sage, rosemary and thyme) from the garden. Kaya made orange blossom panna cotta! We also ate the coconut, corn, curry dish. I love when company comes, I find the energy to really cook the meals I would like to prepare every night!

We had a birth later in the week and it worked out that Treska and I were primaries together. At each birth there is one midwife and one student for the labor. They work together making decisions, supporting and loving up the laboring woman. We spent the night with a laboring mom and I watched as Treska encouraged, swayed, rocked, massaged and whispered to this mama who was working so hard. It’s amazing to see the students as they grow from observers to midwives. We birth midwives here.

I loved writing that last post, “What I Wish I Could Tell You!” and it made me realize how much I’d like to write so many of the birth stories. I would like to try to give more of that part of this life. I can change dates, identifying features, names and perhaps divulge a bit more. I have been saving birth stories, writing them down in order to remember them. It is easy to forget them over the years.

I wish I could bring some more brutal honesty to the birth stories, show you what really goes on in these birth rooms. The rawness, the vulnerability, the power,  the fear, the intensity. The funniness. Is that a word? The giggling.

I loved doing a birth, once, in which two young teens attended, desperately curious, yet embarrassed to look. They sat together in a chair, their skinny  little bodies scrunched up, knees up, hands on their faces, covering their eyes. Both wore high ponytails. Peeking and giggling. Their bodies trembled with laughter, quiet and sometimes louder. Adorable. I talked with them a bunch and told them that they really should watch, if they felt like they could handle it. Gave them permission – each one was just dying to look, but embarrassed at what the other would think if they did, indeed look. So, with big smiles and big eyes, they watched the baby be born.

Babies are born, Midwives are born, Mamas are born, Families……..

Over and Over again.