Help for First Time Pregnant Mothers

As two dear friends announce their pregnancies and begin on their journeys into motherhood, I want so much to ease their transitions. I want to wrap my arms and love around them and comfort them. I want to give them words of wisdom, but I'm not sure I know how.  I still feel a lot like a new mother myself.  So, what I can do is say the things I wish I could hop in a time machine and tell myself five years ago, knowing that my friends are on different roads of motherhood and have different hopes, fears, and experiences ahead of them than I had and as I have transitioned into having now.  

There is no way to be a perfect mother, but there are a million ways to he a good one.

You will mess up. You will make wrong decisions. You will have regrets in your journey as a young mother.  Accept that and accept yourself at every stage. There is a wonderful quote about motherhood:
"The moment a child is born,

the mother is also born.
She never existed before.
The woman existed, but the mother, never.
A mother is something absolutely new." -Rajneesh

Remember in the early days that you are every bit as new and vulnerable as your baby. Just as life in the womb does little to prepare newborns for life outside the womb, your life before children does not really prepare you for the realities of mothering.  Be patient with yourself as you discover the mother you are meant to be.  Dust yourself off when you fall down and believe that with every stumble you are learning to run by learning your own boundaries and balance. Love yourself with the same compassion you give your baby.

Take your pregnancy to do two things: really connect with your partner and get as many house projects as you can done.

No matter how long you've been together and what your relationship has been and is like, having children is going to shift your relationship dramatically and sleep deprivation, stress, and finding your post baby equilibrium will all take a toll on your relationship. Build up as much romance and goodwill as you can.  Snuggle up and smooch as much as you can.  Make love both physically and emotionally with the things you do together.  Really savor these last few months when you are "you"--a couple without kids. It will be nearly twenty years before that will be the case again. As for the house projects, you cannot conceive of how much harder it is to get things done once the baby arrives. You may not think you have any time now, but post baby you will marvel at all the time you currently have.  Use it productively!

Learn about your birth options.

Educate yourself about your birth choices and know that you do have choices.  You do not have to give birth in the nearest hospital with a doctor a friend, cousin, or sister used.  Studies show that planned homebirth with a midwife can be just as safe and may result in a shorter labor with less interventions.  If you really are not comfortable with that option after researching it, you also have the options of birth centers with Certified Nurse Midwives, and independent birth centers with midwives.  You can also go to another hospital a bit further away.  You can still go the doctor at your closest hospital route, but learn what else is out there before you make your decision.  When you are in labor, the last thing you need to do is have things suggested to you that you know nothing about.  Take a good birthing class preferably not affiliated with a particular location and its practices so you can learn as much as you can.  Consider hiring a doula for your birth.  They are awesome women who will support you and your husband and greatly enhance your birth experience.


Learn about babywearing.

Wearing your baby is the absolute best thing you can do for both you and your baby.  Your baby gets to feel the security of being curled against you and you get the benefit of smelling that sweet baby smell and kissing the softest skin in the world while you get stuff done and eat things like burritos.  What's not to love?  Invest in a high quality carrier that protects your baby's hips.   You can learn all about them here and buy them used (Just in case your baby has other ideas about what s/he likes.). I will blog about that and the many benefits of baby wearing some other time. (Seriously, investing in a good carrier, wrap, or sling is the best baby item you can have.)

Buy used.

Whenever you can, buy gently used. Even the most well used baby clothes are still used for only a few months. If you want to cloth diaper, I highly recommend diaperswappers.  You can find huge lots of baby clothes of all sizes on ebay and craigslist, too, for a fraction of what you would buy new.  Consignment stores, donation stores, and specialty children stores are filled to the brim with gently used, like new, baby items.  If you have friends who already have children, see if you can borrow items that can really only be used a few months like swings, bouncy seats, infant bathtubs, etc.  Save your money as much as you can for the unexpected and for items you might use longer like high chairs, booster chairs, good car seats, and baby wearing gear.

Ask for gift cards instead of trying to register for baby items you may or may not use. 

Grandparents and family members are always excited about a new baby and particularly excited about a first baby.  They will want to help you as much as they can in their excitement.  Take them up on it, let them throw you a shower, but don't feel you have to register for a whole lot of stuff when you can often get it used for a fraction of the cost at Mom to Mom sales, garage sales, and gently used kids stores.  Instead ask for gift cards.  Gift cards for your favorite department store like Target or even your grocery store are particularly useful.  That way, once your baby

gets here and you learn more about what works for him/her and his/her personality, you will have the money to accommodate those things.  And don't be afraid to ask for things like gift certificates to stores that sell nursing bras/tops/etc. and for websites like etsy where you can buy washable nursing pads, unique diaper bags, slings, babywearing coats and all kinds of fun baby gear.


Most of all, love yourself and be open with whatever you are feeling when you are feeling it.

Pregnancy and first time motherhood are times of great emotional tumult.  Do not judge yourself too harshly for it.  Sleep in, baby yourself, and be open with how you are feeling!  Get into the habit now because it will only become harder as time goes on to get into the habit.  When your baby comes all your doubts and fears may go away, or maybe not.  You might feel instantly in love, but maybe not.  None of this means you will be or are a "bad" mother.  Just like babies are not born instantly knowing how to nurse, talk, walk, etc.  A woman who has just birthed a baby does not know everything all at once, either.  

Don't ever worry about what others "think" or even what you think you should "think," instead, go with what you "feel" is right every time.

Study all you want during your pregnancy, but be kind if the answers you find beforehand are not the ones that "feel" right once you have a baby.  Mother's intuition is real and don't be afraid to listen to it.  You will still make mistakes, but at least you will know that you did what you did because you were trying your best.  

I have a friend who was sure she would love bedsharing, full term nursing, cloth diapering, and a whole host of other "natural parenting" practices.  She learned through experience that while she did like some of those things, she did not like to do them for as long as she had thought and she actually couldn't stand some of them.  I just "knew" for all nine months I was pregnant with my first (and for years beforehand), that I would never, ever let a child sleep in my bed because I am too light of a sleeper, I would never be able to cloth diaper, I would nurse for twelve months maximum, I was too busy and lazy to worry about too much nutrition, and I would be a strict, traditional disciplinarian.  Now I am a co-sleeping, cloth diapering, full term breastfeeding, mother who believes passionately in gentle parenting and consequences rather than punishment and eating whole foods whenever possible.  I truly believe that this is the best course for my family and we are all better for it, but it took me a long time to get over the disconnect between what I had always "thought" was right and what I "felt" in my heart was right.  Then, just when I had everything figured out with my first, I had a second and discovered different things worked for him!  That's why comparing yourself to other mothers or trying to just clone what they do will never work. Every baby, every mother, every situation is different. Advice (even my advice) may be kindly offered, but don't feel you have to take it too seriously.  Save yourself some pain.  Go with your gut.  

Finally, get your mom and your best friends, both other moms and at least one non-mom, on speed dial.

Being a mother is the toughest job you'll ever love, but no one should feel like they are doing it alone.  In addition to working hard to stay open and connected with your partner, make sure to connect with other women.  They will know exactly how you feel and will not judge you for your "off days."  Your non-mom friend will help you remember who you were before you were a mother when you need it.  You will not believe how easy it is to forget that if you get too consumed.

All my love and good wishes for you on this journey to the woman and mother you were always destined to be.

Thanks for reading!
Shawna

In the Shadow of the Holidays: Helping Those Who Grieve This Season

This is the time of year when we often celebrate the abundance of our lives. We fill our homes with lights, decorations and presents. We send cards and well wishes to people that we feel lucky to know and to keep in touch with, but with whom we may not be able to have many visits or interactions with over the year. We gather for large family meals and we celebrate our religions in a way that really doesn't happen over most the year. Joy is usually the theme that permeates our airwaves, our thoughts, and our lives during this time of year, but in the shadow of all this light and happiness there are many who are grieving this year; who grieve every year. I don't know what it is about this year that has made me realize this more than any other year, but I seem particularly attuned to it everywhere I look.

You see, my life has been touched by women who have lost (or are losing) their children this year. Think about the degree of that loss. Most of us don't want to. Most of us can't. You see, the people who read this blog are all parents and we don't want to think about losing the most precious people in our lives, the very people who have redefined who we are and who gave us the title of mother or father. Yet, I look around me and I see many mothers grieving this season. Many of you might remember the blog I wrote featuring the Harper family and honoring Alicia Harper, well, I am sorry to say that the Harper family was hit by the devastating loss of their youngest member, Brayden, whose miracle life has inspired and continues to inspire so many. Likewise, you may also remember the blog I shared about another inspring mom, Melissa Bissing, who successfully turned the grief she feels after losing her son in May of 2011 into a movement, Orange for Owen that has transformed not only her community but the lives of people all over the world. Another brave mother with ties to my own hometown community is currently facing the possible loss of her beloved daughter, Kyra, to cancer this season. Even our own contributers here at the connected mom website have been bravely honest about their own pregnancy losses and as I grieve with yet another woman that I have come to care about who is currently suffering her own second trimester loss, I can't help but think about all these mothers' grief even in the midst of my joy during the Christmas season.

It is easy at this point, when you hear or read about so much loss to resolve to pray or to think of all these mothers and then use their grief as inspiration to cling that much closer and to be more appreciative of our own children, but I think that is only the first step. The most effective way we can help them in their grieving is to participate in making their loss meaningful by liking the facebook pages I have linked to above and maybe even donating or giving when we can to those who are making thier loss meaningful like those at Heaven's Angels who accept donations of yarn, other materials, and knitted goods to help grieving mothers who lose their babies in later pregnancy or The Global Hydranencephaly Foundation who works to educate and create support and full lives for families faced with the same devastating diagnosis that just cost the Harper family their son. We are all mothers together and we are all a community, whether we have ever met in person or not, and we must also grieve and act as a community as well. It may not make any mother's grief less painful, but it can make the world a little brighter for everyone if we remember to keep the candles burning for the children whose light no longer burns in this world.

Thank you for reading,
Shawna

Mothering Your Friendships

Earlier this month, I had the honor to host/attend my first Mother's Blessing. It was a very special event and if you have never heard of one, I highly recommend you look them up! A Mother's Blessing or Blessingway is a ceremony/party held for a mother to be that celebrates her and the difficult transition she is facing into being the mother of a new little soul (even if it is the fourth or fifth little soul she has brought into the world). It differs from a baby shower in that the focus is on the challenges the mother faces in labor or in the weeks/months/years after the baby is born. The gifts guests bring are usually practical ones like frozen meals for the family or tokens for the mother to hold during labor or just when she needs strength. The women also make a plan to nurture the burgeoning family after it has been expanded. It's a chance for women to get together and build up the confidence and love a mother needs right before her newborn is born. Although I could go on about the amazingness of Mother's Blessings forever, I think I will save it for a future blog.

In the case of this Mother's Blessing, one of my favorite parts of the ceremony actually turned out to be the introductions. I had asked each of the guests to tell us who they were and tell a story about what the woman we were throwing the Mother's Blessing for meant to each of us. There were quite a few tears as we each told stories of how this amazing mother of (now) two also managed to inspire and help each of us. Although many of the guests didn't really know each other, none of us were surprised by how each of us felt about such a great friend and inspiring woman. However, the guest of honor seemed shocked. She kept exclaiming "What?" It was as if our amazing friend and mom-inspiration, Rachael, had no idea how motivating and invigorating she was not only to her own family, but to her friends as well. She did not know who she really was to the rest of the world!

This got me thinking. While moms are excellent at simultaneously seeing both the potential and the challenges of our children, I'm not sure we turn that double vision on ourselves enough. In our quests to be the best moms we can be and to reach our own ideals of what that should be, I don't think we pay enough attention to what we do impressively well for our friends, for our families (including extended families), and our communities. Too often, we seem to focus on our flaws. We berate ourselves for them, we attempt to forgive ourselves for them, we write about them, but we forget that for every flaw, we also have an inspirational skill inside of us.

So, I have a challenge for you today. Since it is so hard to remember to praise yourself, maybe you can praise a friend or a family member today instead. Let her know exactly what she means to you, just as she is (even if her day is not going perfectly) and what an amazing mother she is to you. Maybe if we all take turns mothering each other, we can each get better at mothering ourselves!

Thanks for reading,
Shawna

Feminism and Attachment Parenting: It Can Work

Twenty years ago, or maybe it's closer to fifteen, in any case, once upon what feels like a lifetime ago, an ex-boyfriend and I had an argument about whether a woman should stay home after having children. He argued that women should stay home, because it was better for the children; a mother could give children an emotional security that no one else could. I argued that it was sexist to say a woman “should” do anything, and that women should not be the ones to give up their career or work outside the home just because they happen to be the ones having children. A father or other trusted care giver could just as easily provide the love, care and emotional security children required.

In hindsight, the fight was stupid, simply because it was theoretical. We were still in college. We were too young to even be talking about the prospect of having children. Even when we were out of college, the topic of living together never came up. I never expected a proposal. Now I know enough to know it doesn't make sense to talk about scenarios that aren't real or on the soon-to-be-horizon. As they say, it's like worrying about problems that you don't even have yet.

But at the time, I was young and oversensitive, I took his views as a personal attack, as if he was saying, what I wanted for myself individually was less important than my potential child needs, as if he was suggesting that women (me) not just take off a few years or the first year of each child's life off from their careers, but give them up permanently, and to fail to do this, made them a bad mother. Whether he was actually saying this or not, I made the point that women who have something – like a career – that nurtures them, make better and far more nurturing mothers, in addition to demonstrating to their children of both genders that they can pursue and fulfill the careers of their dreams.

At the time, I thought anyone saying that women SHOULD stay home was sexist, and that anyone who suggested that a baby's needs were more important than a mother's was especially sexist, because such a view devalued women, their potential, their skills, and their lives. I thought for a mother to be a good respectable mother, she had to put herself first. That if she took care of herself, and enjoyed her life, it would only benefit her children, whereas an exhausted woman who gave everything, never got anything for herself, would only end up resenting her children and feeling like she was constantly being taken advantaged of. For the record, I do think some degree of this is true. And yes, I realize, in all fairness to my ex-boyfriend, he wasn't saying women are a dishrag who should be completely used up by their children.

At least I hope not. (Actually, what I hear from his mother, whom I am still friends with, is that he is a very loving, committed, hands on, and patient parent.)

I think I was all of nineteen when we had this fight. I don't know for sure, and I'm unwilling to go through old journals (because there are a lot – this ranting habit of mine is hardly new) to find the exact date. But it was the early 90s. I had read Naomi Wolf's The Beauty Myth and Carol Gilligan's Ina Different Voice. My copy of Susan Faludi's Backlash was dogeared, with a spine that was so cracked, I had to tape it back together. I subscribed to Ms. Magazine. Gloria Steinem and Hillary Rodham Clinton had told me I could have it all and that I was entitled to it. Poor ex-boyfriend, given all the reading I had been doing, it was just an argument waiting for an opportunity to assert itself.

When I became a mother a good decade and half later, I thought of this fight often. I found myself wondering what my 19 year old feminist self would say about my mothering self. When I was 19, I had wanted to teach college English. I wanted tenure. I wanted to write books that won the Pulitzer. By the time I got pregnant, I had taught college English, but I no longer wanted tenure. In fact, I walked off campus the last time before my husband's job took us to LA, and realized with a startlingly clarity that I never wanted to teach again. While I had written books, they hadn't won the Pulitzer because they hadn't been published (yet...). My husband and I moved to LA, and I sat my pregnant-bellied self in my new found spot at Ground Zero of My Life.

And when I gave birth to my son (Yes, naturally. My fear of needles is bigger than my fear of pain.) I, like many parents before me, melted. While I had some anxiety about mothering, simply because my own mother didn't seem to enjoy it much, it disappeared the second he was born. I was startled to discover a few weeks, and then a few months later, that I had never felt happier. Given that my son literally nursed every twenty minutes, it's entirely likely, I was just high on oxytocin, with fresh new hormones releasing every single time he latched. Nevertheless, he was an easy and happy baby, as long as he nursed. Which means, I was one of “those” women that Elisabeth Badinter writes about in The Conflict and that the latest issue of Time magazine points to, with its cover asking, "Are You Mom Enough?"

In my new motherhood, I was surprised how often I found myself questioning what my younger feminist self would say about my mothering self, and wondering if she felt like she had failed as a feminist, and if I could still even call myself one. I talked to myself a lot about this point. I even joked at mom's group and with other mothers that honestly, I have failed at everything and most of my ideal career choices in my life, breastfeeding is just the weird thing that came easily to me. It's just my bad luck that I can no longer make a living as a wet nurse. (And if I had known that this would be the one thing I was good at, maybe I should have pursued it earlier?). In the end though, I would end the conversation with myself by concluding that what I had been arguing for all along was that women have choices, and that those choices be equally valued and respected.

Consequently, what has come to be these ridiculous debates or battles or in more polite words, conversations, about Attachment Parenting and if it devalues women, has continued to hit nerve after nerve of mine. Badinter is hardly the first. Ayelet Waldmen makes a few jabs in Bad Mother. Judith Warner in Perfect Madness; Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety argues against the pressure to breastfeed for at least a year and the “boundary breakdown” of attachment parenting, and Lisa Bloom in Think takes a two paragraph time out from arguing against the dumbing down of American women to argue against co-sleeping, because she thinks sleeping next to one's child causes one to lose sleep.

No, actually. When you co-sleep, you roll over, nurse and go back to sleep (if you've woken up). When your baby is in a crib down the hall, you wake up, walk down the hall, sit in a rocking chair and nurse, then after your baby is back asleep, you walk back down the hall, go back to sleep, only to repeat the entire process two hours later. Because your sleep is so physically disrupted, you can't help but be exhausted.

See? Nerve. I try to rise above these weird assumptions about attachment parenting, and I keep taking the bait.

And all these books make valid points and are worth reading (while the Badinter reads quickly, you could probably still save the time and find a nice summary. It's not like it hasn't been written about ad nauseam.) Still, I can't help it. I want to shout at these women, “You know what devalues a woman and mother? FATIGUE!”

I understand - having thought similar thoughts as a 19 year old feminist – the concerns of these women and the people who feel compelled to turn attachment parenting into some weird thing it's not. It's easy to fear falling so head first into mothering that you risk losing yourself. It's happened to many an innocent woman before. 

But I have to question the women who continue to point to certain choices women are making as mothers and asserting that those choices are causing them to be devalued as individuals. I have to question the notion of not keeping our children at arm's length makes us less feminist or equal. Because I don't actually think the issue is attachment parenting or any other form of parenting. Most parents of my current parenting generation are fairly clear that like many parents before us, there will be things we do as parents that work, and that there are things we do that don't work as well. All of us are making the best choices we can with what we have, and the choices we're making line up with our values, who we know ourselves to be, and who we know our children to be. We're all interested in doing what works for us, our children and our nightly sleep. There are more parenting resources than ever before in history. It's not like we're not doing our homework.

Rather, I think the issue is that motherhood isn't valued the way we'd like to think it is. It's easy to resent anyone who recommends breastfeeding at least a year because employers aren't set up to support mothers who breastfeed a year with paid maternal leave. Of course working women who resort to bottles and formula feel pressured to breastfeed: their doctors are recommending they do something they can't easily do. With work days getting longer, not shorter, it isn't exactly fun to stick your breasts into a machine inspired by efficiently milking commercial dairy cows while you think of your baby that you haven't seen in 10 hours. And not that breastfeeding mothers are off the pressure hook either, with breastfeeding rates at 30% after three months and 13%, I can't say I agree with Badinter that the “Tyranny of Breastfeeding” has accomplished its goal. Rather, a woman breastfeeding her child the recommended length, more often than not, is asked when she'll quit, why she hasn't quit, isn't it weird, and if not, when will it be? The tyranny of breastfeeding has hardly normalized what pediatricians around the world recommend for all children.

I do appreciate the conversations women are starting, because it's clear dissatisfaction is afoot. But instead of taking our dissatisfaction out on each other and various parenting choices, which are nobody else's business anyway, why not instead work towards something that will make parenting better for everyone? Because let's be honest, the current work culture doesn't make it easy for parents of either gender to be good parents, whether it's an utter lack of paid sick days and family and medical leave or a work environment that demands employees work at least 12 hours at a time, and look down on them if they don't.

I am tired of women being women's harshest critics. It's hardly new. Mary Wollstonecraft's A Vindication of the Rights of Women was published in 1792. Her sharpest critics were women. The reasoning behind it is rather simple. As my midwife told me in my first pregnancy, I would never have to even utter a word about my parenting (or life) choices, because the sheer fact that I was doing it differently than someone else would have that someone else feel judged or threatened or like I thought they or their way wasn't good enough, when in reality, it has nothing to do with them at all. Surely, in addition to all the rights we've earned since 1792, we've also gained enough security in our selves and our choices that we can not take each other's approaches so personally?

Badinter and Time magazine seem to think not. I disagree. 

What I Want For Mother's Day

Two weeks ago, my sister asked this season's first, “what do you want for Mother's Day?”

Mother's Day is a big business. Greeting cards, brunches, champagne toasts, jewelry, spa treatments, flowers, mugs from the paint-your-own-pottery place. The intention is valid, even admirable: to honor mothers and the work they do raising children.

Except this year, when my sister asked what I might want for Mother's Day, I did not think of the potential flower arrangements, necklaces with children's birth stones, or sappy greeting cards that were supposed to honor the hours and attention I give to my children. It's counter-intuitive, really, given that raising children can be exhaustive work with only emotional fulfillment as its reward. But raising my children is not what I recently find so exhausting.

No, what I recently find exhausting and what I thought of instead of the potential gifts I might reap is that in 45 states, 944 provisions have been introduced that would limit women's reproductive health and rights. I thought of how Arizona, now declares by law that pregnancy begins up to two weeks before conception - “from the first day of the last menstrual period of the pregnant woman.” So for Arizona, life begins before an egg is even fertilized, which by extension then means every woman in Arizona is pregnant the first two weeks of her monthly cycle. This is purely to limit abortion rights, but it just made the Sex Education taught in the public schools that much more confusing. No matter though, because while the most effective way to reduce teen pregnancy and abortion is through education in the public schools, several states introduced bills that would forbid anything but abstinence education or stipulate that certain “facts” must be taught, even if these “facts” aren't facts at all or have any medical or scientific basis. Abstinence education, as we know, is very good at telling women not to get pregnant by not having sex or to protect themselves from getting sexually abused or raped. It's also good for perpetuating sexist and traditional gender roles since when an unplanned pregnancy happens, it's the woman's life it impacts or education that gets derailed. It's lousy for educating or empowering men to take responsibility for themselves in preventing rapes, sex abuses, or unwanted pregnancies.

In Wisconsin, Gov. Walker repealed the comprehensive sex education laws only to replace it with an abstinence only one. He signed legislation to restrict abortion rights in health care exchanges and require doctors to “investigate women” seeking abortions to make sure they aren't being coerced (because it's such a big decision – surely a woman can't work this one out by herself). Then Walked signed a bill to nullify enforcement of the federal Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay for Women Act. So he may want women to have children, but he doesn't want to help them support the children his laws encourage.

I also thought of how many friends I have that since becoming mothers, they were passed over for promotions and raises – all because of the perception, that because of their family life, they would be less “available” or “committed” or “reliable” or “serious” at work, even though all solid evidence points to the contrary. Or the women who receive inadequate maternal leaves, so they go back to work after two or six weeks, as if they were out for a root canal rather than the act of having a baby. I thought of how women, on average, make 77 cents for each dollar that men make and that number drops to 73 if a woman is a mother. If that mother is single, the number drops further to 60 cents. Mothers are also 79% less likely to be hired compared to non-mothers with the same education and experience. Given that having a baby is one of the leading causes of a poverty spell for a family in this country, it seems we might want to point our attention to empowering women to provide for the families politicians think they should be having.

Then I thought of how every 90 seconds, or in other words, 1,000 women a day, die from a pregnancy related death. 90% of these are preventable and 50% of these happen in the first 48 hours after delivery. The US ranks 50^th in the world for maternal health.

The US also spends 30 cents of every dollar on the military, while only 4 cents goes towards education. So while the US has figured out how to monetize the killing of people, and even the incarcerating of people, we haven't figured out how to monetize the raising and education of people, and therefore, it falls to the bottom of the financial priority list.

I could go on about the recent injustices aimed at mothers and women, but I don't know that I need to. You get the idea, and that there's enough for me to say that to live in a country so actively limiting the rights of women and mothers on an almost daily basis – to such extent of 944 provisions in the first three months of 2012 alone – that Mother's Day feels like a cheap-drug-store-bought consolation prize of an acknowledgment.

A champagne toast brunch is a tempting way to spend a May Sunday morning; a boat ride on the lake in Central Park is an exquisitely tempting way to spend a morning having my parenting energies acknowledged. But I don't want it, because it's meaningless in a culture that doesn't put its attention and money where its mouth is.

No, what I want for Mother's Day is to live in a culture that values women and mothers and empowers them to be the best mothers they can be, and that means empowering them to decide for themselves when and how to give birth and how best to provide for their families, instead of leaving it up to a bunch of white guys to decide for them. Until then, I have no interest in a holiday that essentially is a band-aid for the rest of the year.  

You are Beautiful

I often hear women talking about themselves, especially mothers, and saying the words “fat”, “gut”, “muffin top”.  It makes me so sad.

One thing that has drawn me to helping women is how beautiful they are.  Short, tall, big, small.  They are all just so gorgeous.

And the women I love more than anything are mothers.  Whether they had their baby a day ago or they are a great-grandma to 15.  Their bodies are just aged to perfection.  They have the bodies I want.  The body that grew and nurtured multiple children.  The body that when you look at it looks saggy and tired, but in truth is just simply beautiful.

As women, we always compare ourselves to others instead of thinking about how we *feel*.  We see commercials and TV shows and covers of magazines and wonder what we are doing wrong.

When the truth is, what we are doing wrong is comparing our body to what we think the perfect body looks like.

My favorite woman’s body is the one that she is comfortable in.  I can’t even begin to describe how a woman glows when she is comfortable in her own skin.  With her wrinkled, sagged breasts, and her stomach that doesn’t really bounce back like when she was a teenager.  The body that grew a living being.  The body that nourished that being and helped it grow.  The body that taught and loved and raised another person.

We, as mothers, don’t give ourselves enough credit.  We see these magazine racks and the women on there with their new babies and perfect bodies and we measure ourselves and find ourselves lacking.

When in fact, the only difference is a trainer that charges $5000 an hour, and a professional with an air brush.

I see women that have just given birth to their child, and their stomach still looks pregnant, and they are tired, but they are at their most beautiful.  Our bodies were made to stretch and grow.  They were made to grow more beautiful with use.

Some of my favorite artwork is of big breasted, full bellied women.  Just like the cavemen used to pray to.  The Mother of all the Earth.

She wasn’t a skinny supermodel.  She wasn’t slim or trim.  She was a woman that loved with everything she had.  She was a woman that bore her body with pride at what she had created and nurtured.

She is the most beautiful of all.

(courtesy of google images)

In my eyes, she is beautiful.

We shouldn’t be comparing ourselves to others.  We shouldn’t be unhappy because the number on a scale isn’t what we wished we saw.

We need to learn to be comfortable in our own skin.  We need to learn to be happy with the body we have, the body that grew and nurtured our children.  We need to learn to love ourselves.

You are beautiful.  A number on a scale or a pants size doesn’t make the mother.  What makes a mother is the love she has for her children.  The love she has for herself.

Mothers are the most beautiful to me of all.

This was originally posted on my site heartsandhandss.com months ago, but I felt it needed to be shared on here as well

Celebrating Mothers and Midwives

This week marks the celebrations of both mothers and midwives with Mother's Day on Sunday, May 8 and International Midwives Day this past Thursday, May 5. Because of the close proximity of the two days, I've been thinking a lot about the extraordinary gifts and lessons I've received from these women (I know there are male midwives - I just had women) especially when it came to my experience of birth.

Like many women, the moment I became a mother, I suddenly felt like I knew my own mother in a way I hadn't before. At the very least, I knew - as I held my gorgeous newborn son - that whatever experience my mom had of pregnancy (generally positive) to whatever experience she had after with me or in her life (a few rough spots to say the least) - the moment I was born, I was loved beyond belief and with a love that is so huge, it takes over. It becomes like the air you don't think about breathing, or as a good friend of mine says, "Do I love my baby? My baby is me. I love my baby the way I love my arm."

I also had new respect for a certain give and take that existed in my mom's and my relationship. Like moms and daughters everywhere, we are known to have fights, laughs, and all the ups and downs in between. But my mom always conveyed that she learned as much from me as I learned from her. When I became a mother, I began to understand why - that when you give birth, you don't just birth a child, you birth a mother and a new aspect of yourself. That new self has as much to learn as the baby who can't see beyond its new mother's face when breastfeeding, and the one who teaches a mother how to mother, is the child.

At the home birth of my son, I was fortunate to have two midwives and an assistant attend to me and my husband. Thanks to my mother's genetics, I was blessed with a short uneventful six hour labor (not that it felt short at the time). Throughout my pregnancy and birth, my midwives - as my mom had told me before - emphasized that pregnancy and birth were not things to power through, but to be empowered by, that while occasionally things do go wrong, overall, things are programmed to go right. They gave me reading lists and resources, so I could make informed choices about my pregnancy, my birth, and the care of my baby. They gave me their expertise and experience, not just about birth, but the full spectrum - how it changes a marriage, and your relationship to just about everyone in your life especially yourself, how in the weeks afterward, you're likely to feel vulnerable, and that the first few weeks, you should not plan on getting out of your pajamas.

I know there's a time, place and circumstance for doctors and hospitals and they exist for a reason. But my midwives I appreciated because their vision of birth included my entire life, from my diet and exercise habits to my husband's experience of parenthood. And in their care, I got the kind of nurturing I would have received from my own mother if she had had the qualifications or know-how. My son was born at 4:30 in the afternoon. My midwives stayed until 9:30 in the evening. They took care of me and tucked me into bed with my son, they cleaned up everything, they fed me, they made me tea, they checked on my son a few more times before deciding they could leave, and when they asked if there was anything else they could do, I asked if by chance, they could brush my hair, still wet and matted from the birthing tub. I fell asleep that first night as a mother, with my baby in my arms, and my midwife brushing my hair.

Again, I know there are good doctors and reasons for hospitals and that there are women who want that experience, but I have yet to hear of the woman who gave birth in a hospital and received the level of care and love I received in my own home. Or of the woman who fell asleep holding her baby while her doctor brushed her hair.

This past Thursday I sent another thank you to my midwives for the experience they showed me was possible, when we so often hear horror stories of birth and stories told as if they are inevitable and predictable, or like no other experience is possible. I felt grateful again, and that in many ways, I am the mother that I am, because of what I learned from them. And while I am pregnant again, but now in a different city and on the opposite coast, and with a different midwife, my midwife's job this time is a breeze - I've already been empowered. I already trust the process.

And this Sunday, I will celebrate my mom, the mothers everywhere that I've learned from, the mother that I've become, and my son, for making me that mom and who continues to teach me how to be the mother that he needs.