Natural Childbirth: My Story, Part I

And now let's pretend it's December (when I actually began composing this post). Let's say I'm 36 weeks pregnant with my third child, and my head is wrapped around Mammahood and little else. My favorite moment of the day comes late each evening when I lean back on my bed, prop up my feet and lay my hands on my swollen belly to feel my son move. Often, the hands of big sister, big brother, or Daddy join mine, and we revel in the miracle of the tiny life coming to us.

And of course I have the time and energy to blog about it, because, what nine-months preggo woman doesn't? ;-)

The last week of November was difficult. Our birth plans had to change and questions have been raised about my health...more on that some other day...but, because of these trials, I have felt so urgently the need to put into words, here, the story of my birth experiences, and how strongly I believe that the journey of labor and delivery can carry a mother to a place of sacred awareness, empowerment, and bliss that cannot be reached in this life in any other way. The reasons I choose natural childbirth are portrayed and promoted in life-changing books like Childbirth Without Fear and bold documentaries like The Business of Being Born (my favorite!). I passionately recommend both those sources to women everywhere, but my stories can only be told by me.

Almost nine years ago Baby #1, my sweet Laurelei, was on the way. I was so young! I have always known I wanted to be a mother, and I have always known I wanted to bring my children into the world through natural childbirth, the way my mother brought me. Actually, until I was a junior in high school, and went to see a friend in the hospital who was having a baby, I didn't know much about any other way. I remember my older sister telling me I should leave the room because they were going to do something called an 'epidural' and she knows I don't like needles. I left obediently, wondering what on earth needles had to do with giving birth.

A little older and slightly wiser in the ways of the world by the time I became pregnant with my first, I ignorantly thought I knew all there was to know about labor and delivery and my options and rights. There were no birth centers near where we lived, but the hospital was small and personal and, as informed as I thought I was, a home birth really hadn't even crossed my mind. I said 'no' to the epidural, the pitocin, the being induced, and I presented my D.O. with the birth plan Brian and I had worked through together (a quiz torn from the pages of a parenting magazine, the boxes checked with our answers). He nodded and said he understood. And I think he did. But still, on the night my sweet girl was born, things were done to me as a mother and to her as she entered this world that we would have said no to had we known--really known--as much as we thought we knew. It was a hospital, after all. And a hospital has policies that most moms never bother to learn and most docs never bother to disclose because the expectation is blind faith in the 'experts,' and little to no faith in our bodies; in what we, as women, were designed to do.

I have a huge problem with that expectation.

When the night came, I had back labor. I stood and walked the polished, white, hospital floors, leaning on Brian through contractions and letting gravity help us along and the pain was manageable. I could see the purpose in it and Brian could talk me through the worst moments...until I dilated to 5 or 6 centimeters and was told that, according to procedure, it was time for me to lie down.

What?

But we didn't know enough to say 'what?' I thought, she must be coming soon. It must be time. I obediently laid on the bed...and felt the full pain of back labor which, up to that point, my standing position had eased me through. I'm sure I screamed. The nurses began hooking me up to machines. External monitors. Heart monitors. An I.V., and, worst of all, an Internal Fetal Monitor screwed into the top of my helpless daughter's head. I remember thinking, and I remember Brian asking, why? But then my focus returned to the contractions that had suddenly intensified tenfold and Brian's focus returned to me. With all the wires and cords holding me to the bed, and the full weight of baby and womb on my back, there was nothing I could do now to handle the pain. I wanted to stand up again. Someone told me no. I fought through several contractions that way before a nurse suggested a "milligram or so of Stadol. Just to take the edge off." Brian and I didn't know what that was and neither of our heads were really with the nurse anyway. But with the hospital -regulation IV that I never wanted already in place, it was easy to inject the medicine for "the good of the baby" without really waiting for us to say yes.

We had lost control of a situation that was ours--not the nurses' or the doctors' or the hospital's. Ours. And even though I could still feel the labor, I still knew where I was and I could try to find the purpose in the pain,  I felt a little bit lost.

Under the influence of the Stadol, the semi-helpful effects of which didn't last that long, I hallucinated. Between contractions I fell into a half-sleep that terrified me without giving me any real rest. Then, at about 8 or 9 centimeters, the drug began to wear off and they wanted to give me more. This time, I found my voice and said no. They still wouldn't let me off the bed, but I insisted on being propped up. I knew she was coming. I knew that the moment I had waited and prepared for was about to happen and I didn't wait to be told to push. My body and my baby together knew what to do and the doctor barely caught her in time.
There is no physical feeling that can compare to the sensation of a baby leaving the birth canal, and there is no emotional or spiritual experience to be had by man nor beast to envy the infinite wonder and joy of having  completed the journey of labor and birth. At the moment she was placed in my arms, Laurelei, Brian, and I were the only beings on earth.

I kissed the wound on her head and cried, happy tears for the child fresh from eternity in my arms; tears of grief for my ignorance and pain. And I knew, as she nuzzled her tiny mouth to my breast, I would never, ever, lose control of my sacred Mammahood rights again.

Coming Soon: Natural Childbirth: My Story, Part II.

xo

Valentine Cuties

Happy Valentine's Day blogland beauties! Just a quick idea today for a sweet and healthy Valentine's treat:

Use a Sharpie to draw messages like "Hey Cutie", "Be Mine Cutie", or "Kiss Me Cutie" on a whole

box full of cuties, then share the sweetness and the love!

Happy Hearts Day!

xo

Let's Pretend it's November

 The rhythm of my life is reflected in the frequency of my writing. When my most important priorities--my family, my health, my faith--need more of my time and energy, I give it. And the work-in-progress novel manuscript goes back in the box under the bed, the article ideas get jotted on a sticky note for future reference, and the blog posts in my head go unwritten for a season. Then, when we grow accustomed to whatever changes have come our way and life's rhythm becomes steady once again, the words come back to me, and they won't be put off anymore. Such is my chronological, list-making, check mark- checking nature, however, that I find it impossible to pick up in my writing from where I am. I have to go back. I have to catch up on all the things I want to share, all the memories I don't want to forget. So, before we get to baby (yes, he's here!) and natural childbirth, creative craftiness, and the new rhythm of our little family of five, let's pretend it's November. Because I want to tell you just a little about our amazing week in the city where Tony Bennett left his heart and Train begs to be saved: San Francisco.

Waiting for our turn on the street car.

Lunch at Boudin

Boat tour under the Golden Gate.

Lombard Street

I have two sisters. One lives in L.A., the other in Oakland. I get to see them maybe once every two years. This time around (in November, remember? haha i made a rhyme!), we--and by 'we' I mean: a very pregnant me, my hubs, our two kiddos, my parents, my older sister and her hubs--converged spectacularly on the Oakland home of my little sister Andrea and her boyfriend Connolly. The latter had not met most of us before and, it must be said, exercised heretofore unheard of levels of patience with our family's standard dysfunctional mode of cray-cray. Thank you, Connolly.

We spent a week crashing at their home by night, and back-and-forth bay-hopping by day, diving head-first into San Francisco (and a little Oakland) tourist culture. Street cars, Fisherman's Wharf, and Lombard Street, SFMOMA, Aquarium of the Bay, and the Academy of Science. We walked and bussed and rode trains and boats, we ate sourdough bread with almost every meal. We carried extra jackets and sweaters for San Francisco's famously unpredictable weather, and basically spent seven days building family memories, teaching our children, and reminding ourselves, how to let go and immerse ourselves in a travel experience that helps shape our view of the world.

You see, we have these philosophies, Brian and I, by which we try to live, and, more to the point try to parent. One is a commitment to value experiences over possessions--we don't own a house, or even much furniture; our income is modest, but we manage it in a way that allows us to partake in every good learning experience that comes our way (ie: rock climbing lessons or a video game system? the choice, for us, is obvious). Another is that knowledge and relationships are the only things we take with us when we leave this world, so shouldn't our knowledge be wide and our family bonds deep? We think so. And that only comes with time spent together, discovering life.

The Palace of Fine Arts, which houses the Exploratorium.

Science at Exploratorium.

Ditto.

The Museum of Modern Art.

Creating at MOMA.

Laurelei deemed this piece her favorite at MOMA.

Quidditch goggles for SF exploring- gift from Uncle and Auntie.

In Oakland, at Children's Fairyland.

Alice's rabbit hole at Fairyland.

Air garden at Academy of Science.

So we left the City by the Bay with hundreds of new memories, at least as many photographs, if not more (I am married to this guy, after all) and very few souvenirs. Most of what we bought we either did (tickets, admissions, etc.), or ate (food = gooood). And we talked about those seven days and all they brought us again and again, letting the memories warm the rest of our chilly November back home.

What are your goals when you travel as a family? What places have you loved visiting? I hope many, and many more to come.

xo

Week 20: The Next Big Thing

    Through serendipitous circumstances (and by that I mean me cruising Facebook to kill time a couple of weeks ago) I was asked by the talented Rachele Alpine to participate in The Next Big Thing: a game of blog-tag for writerly type bloggers with manuscripts-in-progress. Rachele's contemporary YA, Canary, debuts next fall, so that makes her a real-live author which, by extension, includes her in a group of people I'd like to be in someday. So, of course, I jumped on the word-nerd bandwagon.
      The rules are simple: Last week, Rachele wrote a post on her blog answering the interview questions below about her work in progress and linking the post to the writer who tagged her and five (plus a couple) others for this week. I play the same game. You get to read my enthralling answers and then hold on to your hats until next Wednesday to check out the thought processes of five other aspiring authors, and, in one case, amazing author-illustrator. 
     I know I've mentioned my love of books, writing, and all things etymological here before, but I haven't maintained this as strictly a "writing" blog, so here's a whole new side of this Mamma for some of you blogland beauties to see. :-) Here we go:

      

Q1. What is the working title of your book?

     The working title of my novel is THE CHRONICLES OF GIDEON HOLBROOK: BOOK 1. I've been through a few titles...The Taffy Family Chronicles, Gideon Holbrook and the Legend of the Black Lake...but I think I like what I'm working with now best.

Q2. Where did the idea for the book originate?

     I have loved writing for...well, ever. I've written hundreds of poems, scads of essays and short stories, dozens of children's picture book manuscripts, but I had never even thought about writing a novel until one day when my daughter was four years old. She has always been very articulate and advanced in her vocabulary and we were playing a story-telling game we call Fortunately/Unfortunately. I would start a story with one sentence, beginning with either the word 'fortunately' or 'unfortunately,' and she would continue with the next sentence, starting with the opposite word. For example: "Fortunately, the alligator was on a leash." "Unfortunately, the leash was plastic." And then chaotic storytelling ensues. This particular day, however, I started the story, "Fortunately for the little girl standing on the rocky shore, she had remembered to wear her raincoat and hat." Then Laurelei continued, "Unfortunately, her brother standing next to her had not." 

      And then I had a vision. I know that sounds very purple-prosish and melodramatic but I kid you not. The little girl in the rain on the rocky shore and her brother, soaked to the skin next to her became, suddenly, full-fledged characters in my mind. We exchanged a few more sentences and I told Laurelei I loved this story and I needed to write it down. I asked her what else she wanted to have happen and she answered, "Hmmm...the boy and the girl visit their grandparents...and there are pirates." Okay! I spent the next two days writing what would eventually, after much poking and prodding and molding and shaping, become the first five chapters of THE CHRONICLES OF GIDEON HOLBROOK (a.k.a.: the boy without a raincoat). 

Q3. What genre does your book fall under?*

*Alright, this game's 20 weeks old so I hope I'm not offending the creator of  these questions by unleashing my inner grammarian and rephrasing them a bit (the last one originally said "Where did the idea come from for your book?" Not incorrect, technically, but clunky). In my not-so-humble opinion, this one should say: What genre does your book fall into? 

     Why, thanks for asking. My WIP ("work in progress" for you non-writerly types) features main characters of middle school age and would most likely be publisher-classified as an Upper Middle Grade Fantasy/Adventure. I hope, however, that it has cross-over appeal to both the YA and Adult markets. 

Q4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

     I won't pretend I haven't thought about it. I'm a very visual person and an imagery-loving writer. Sometimes, the only way I can work through a scene is by "seeing" the movie in my head. That said, the only one of my characters for whom I have selected a definite, perfect-fit actor counterpart is my villain. I would loooove to see Helena Bonham-Carter in that role.

Q5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Ugh! That's a hard question. Okay, one shot, off the top of my head, here goes:

     

     When Gideon Holbrook's parents receive a mysterious letter and set off on a secret ocean journey leaving Gid and his sister with their grandmother on an island off the coast of Oregon, Gideon discovers a secret about his family's ancestry that has him wondering who he really is, and racing to save his parents' lives. 

Whew!

Q6. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

     I am seeking agent representation (hello? any agents reading?).

Q7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

     I started over three or four times before completing a single draft. It's a complicated plot. I think it took me three years to finally come to a draft.

Q8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?*

*or To what other books within your genre would you compare your story?

     Avi's CRISPIN AND THE CROSS OF LEAD comes to mind, and maybe...smack me for my arrogance here...J.M. Barrie's PETER PAN? I don't know. I hate comparing my work to others'. 

Q9. Who or what inspired you to write this book?

     After my little girl's spark of magic set a fire under me, my thoughts turned to my ancestors and my love of mythology and folk tales. I am a mixed bag of national heritages, but, for some reason, the vague knowledge of some unnamed Welsh progenitors stood out in my mind. I began to interweave my story with one from traditional Welsh mythology, pulling in historical figures and letting my fictional characters grow around them. My own, semi-romanticized ideas of the old-world Welsh culture and landscapes, combined with the newness of a turn-of-the-century, melting-pot-of-cultures, North-Western American town inspired me to push and develop the story.  

Q10. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

     Pirates. As requested by Laurelei, the villains of the tale are of the seafaring variety, and they come with their own back stories, side stories, and surprises. Making up pirates may have been the most entertaining part of writing this story for me. A couple of my favorites: Birdie, a Jamaican with dread-locked hair and a sinsister-sweet voice, and Dead Danby, a Cockney Brit whose skin hangs loose on his frame like melted wax and who has died at least nine times. 

     And there you have it! I hope to share it with all of you--via your local bookseller, of course--one day very soon. You can check out Rachele Alpine's Q&A on her current WIP here, and don't forget to look for more authorial ramblings of the fabulous variety from these bloggers next Wednesday:

J. Larkin
Erin Shakespeare
Liesel Bendio Potter
Jessica Lorene
Madison LaFond
( I'll post the links to those last two as soon as I have 'em).

Thanks for stopping in, lovelies, and remember: faithful blog readers get cuts in line at my book signing someday.

xo

Face Your Fears

     Raw honesty time, gentle readers.
      For basically my entire life, I have always had trouble asking other people for help. Or even telling anyone else when I have a situation wherein I need help. It's the Mammahood-familiar I Can't Be Seen As A Failure/I Must Be Perfect and Do All fear.

     Do you know that fear?

     The crazy thing about giving in to that compulsion to do it all on my own is that, in the short term, my manic achievements are a source of confidence and pride; an endorphin-laden rush of power. But in the long term, denying others the chance to be involved in my life, and disallowing myself to be involved in theirs only creates weakness, loneliness, and isolation. I know that. And still I struggle to let others in.
     The other day I called up one of my oldest friends and asked for her help with something. That may seem mundane and expected and unremarkable to most people, but to me, the fact that I did it and I survived it was a reminder that, even with the realizations I've made about my fear, it's not something I can ever forget about or stop fighting. But the easy part of that comes here: I believe my Heavenly Father (insert your personal deity term here) opens doors that will lead us places where our weaknesses become our strengths, all the time, right in front of our faces. For me, those doors have lately taken the shape of someone asking me to be in charge of an activity or committee or event that I really can't (even though the manic-mom part of me still says I can) make happen on my own.
     My calling in our church right now is to plan and coordinate monthly activities for our women's charitable service organization. Every month I fight the urge to plan all the lessons, teach all the classes, and make all the refreshments by myself. A small part of me still feels that would be easier than picking up the phone and delegating assignments or asking for help. But I do it. I call. And you know what? People want to be involved. They don't call me names and hang up the phone like my fear-mongering subconsciousness tells me they will. They say yes. That lesson, I recognize, is why God opened that door for me.
     This past week, while volunteering in Riley's kindergarten class, his teacher asked me to be the group leader of the Halloween Party committee. I had to roll the words leader (not do-er of all) and committee (not solo party planner) around in my brain a little before I said yes. And later that night when I logged onto Pinterest to start scratching up some ideas, I had to remind myself again: The other parents on this list wrote their names down voluntarily. They WANT to help. Not only is it implausible for you to come up with and make all the games/activities/refreshments on your own--it's also not fair. And so I stopped pinning. I will give each of those other parents the chance to pitch in, and I will meet them and we will collaborate and--who knows?--maybe even uplift each other and encourage each other a little bit at the same time. 
     What fears do you face, blogland beauties? I hope you are conquering them as I am learning to conquer mine.The easy part is that the door has been opened. The hard part is choosing to walk through.

I hope you choose to walk through the doors God opens for you.

xo

Alive

     No, not the book/movie wherein the soccer players eat their dead teammates while stranded in the Andes (that's Alive, right?). I'M talking about me. I'm alive. I haven't taken fingertips to keypad for over a month on this here blog, and I'm blaming that mostly on my fun bout of bronchitis-while-pregnant, but here I am now, alive and kicking typing. And not only am I alive, but for the first time this fall (my favorite season...I may have mentioned that once or twice...), the land around me feels alive and beautiful, even as it prepares to enter the sleeping death of winter. For nearly two months our valley has suffered heat, drought, and the choking, stagnating smoke of the Sawtooth Wilderness fire, keeping us all (well, the smart ones at least) inside and longing for cool breezes and rain and the damp earth smell of autumns past. A death that is in so many ways alive. And finally it has has arrived!

   
     We celebrated that earth life cycle this weekend in a way our family has come to love: our third annual outing at the PEAS Farm Fall Festival, where we engaged in fresh cider sipping, pumpkin picking, pig observing, chicken squawking, playground romping and tractor hay riding under a stormy sky.

 Last year at Fall Fest! Look how much my munchkins have changed! 

 Why, yes rugged tractor man who looks like a skinny James Franco, I would like to know more about kale and rye grass and garlic.

I  also indulged in plenty of sweater and cute boots spotting

(look at that adorable yellow hand-knit! I need to learn to knit this winter...) but it is hard to take a person's picture without them knowing it, so, alas, I captured only this one.

     The next day our weekly Sunday drive took us to Garnet Ghost Town, in the Blackfoot River Corridor, where the silence and the chill and the turning of the Tamarack Pines whispered softly of autumn and beautiful decay. And while the baby in my womb kicked and rolled, the kiddos in the back seat giggled and sang, and my husband's warm hand softly tickled the back of my neck, I felt wonderfully, undeniably, alive.

I hope you feel that this fall. 

xo

Duck Duck Goose Event!

     Spreading the word through shameless self-promotion today my blogland beauties! For all of you who are in the Missoula area, have you heard about this Duck Duck Goose thing? I'm pretty dang excited about it. It's a barn sale--excuse me, a 'children's clothing consignment event'--going on next week from the 13th through the 17th (except Sunday) at the white barn on Mullan Road (just off Broadway). Aaaaand...as if a barn full of thrifty deals for kids is not enough of a thrill...Brian and I are also the official photography vendors of the event! Our work will be displayed throughout the building and we'll be there with special coupons and discounts specifically for Duck Duck Goose shoppers. So...stop by! But if you can't make it, you can still see our work and reserve a session by clicking the picture labeled "Photography" on the right-hand side bar over there ------>
     In the mean time...a little showcase right here:

xo