Anniversary of a Freebirth

It's been a little over one year since our little miracle entered our lives.  Everyday she helps us in ways I didn't even know we needed.

Her birthday brought up so many memories.  All that happened just to get pregnant with her, all the emotions of that whirlwind pregnancy, but especially her birth.

Her pregnancy and birth were the single greatest things I've ever done.

To preface, freebirth isn't for everyone.  It isn't meant to be.  We decided before we even got pregnant that freebirth was something we were very interested in, and once we got pregnant, it felt like the best decision for our family.

The beginning of the pregnancy I felt safer seeing a provider than not.  I had some bleeding and I needed to see my baby. I had three ultrasounds from six to eleven weeks, and discovered I have a bicornuate uterus in the process, but that is for another post.

I saw a high risk OB an hour away, and once I felt safe on my own, I cut care.

From eleven weeks on, I did my own care.  Every four weeks I did an actual "prenatal", but only to satisfy my curiosity.  I loved knowing what my body was doing.  I loved being in charge of what happened to me.  I didn't use a Doppler, only a fetoscope, and that was an amazing experience.  I got to know my baby.

I was able to hear her placenta, her cord, figure out her position, what she liked and didn't like.  It was incredible to me.

At 27 weeks I was admitted to the hospital.  I got the same stomach bug that hit my oldest daughter, and when I get dehydrated, I contract.  A lot.  By the time they were able to insert my IV, I was contracting every two minutes.  Some medication, fluids, and rest and I went home.

From that point on, my baby sat very low, and I contracted all the time.  I was cranky.

The biggest issue with a bicornuate uterus is a very high chance of breech, and I was prepared (and even a little excited) for that possibility.  However, my baby was head down at 22 weeks and stayed firmly that way.  Probably for the best, I didn't need another thing for my mind to focus on.

Time went on, I stayed pregnant with no other major issues, and finally it was time for our birth.

I labored mostly on my own.  Every now and then I needed some pressure on my back, but until I started pushing I was good just being left alone.  I was laughing and talking until an hour before she was born.  Once I started pushing, I needed my husband.  He held me while I leaned onto him.  I couldn't focus, the only thing I knew was that I needed to push and that baby needed to be out of me.  Nothing could have stopped me.

In hindsight, it's probably best we chose to have a freebirth.  By the time active labor hit, I would have refused to move, and it was only about 40 minutes later she was born. 

The moment she was born was phenomenal.  Having had a cesarean, seven losses, and then my body actually did what it was supposed to do was incredible!  I couldn't believe it.  I couldn't believe we actually had a baby.

All the trials, the losses, the four years of trying to get pregnant, and here she was!

Fourteen months later I still am in awe half the time.

I haven't written much on that pregnancy, though I do have my birth story up HERE, and maybe someday I will.  That pregnancy tested my faith, my hope, my everything more than anything in my life.  Her birth healed it and so much more.

It isn't often that one simple act can change how you see past events, but her birth did that for me.  My cesarean is seen in a different light, my losses, our pain.  Everything is now different because of her.

Her birth gave me back something I lost a long time ago.  Her birth gave me back my hope.

Transparent isn't the same as Authentic: Choosing What to Share withSocial Media

There seems to be a misconception out there that who we are on our social media has to be a true representation of who we are in real life.  People complain it is not fair to keep some things private or to present an "ideal" or "best" version of our identities, families, partners, and children.  The general accusation is that by only presenting our "best" selves we are actively working to undermine others' opinions of their own lives and are making them feel bad about themselves.  I couldn't disagree more.  Here's why: other people's lives, their struggles, their embarrassments have nothing to do with you.  Likewise, their successes, their strengths, and their joys have nothing to do with you, either.  If you are basing your self worth or are judging your life as inferior because of someone else's facebook profile, than you are using the wrong basis for comparison.  The only kids your kids should be compared to are the best versions you know they can be of themselves.  The only partner your partner should ever be compared to is the best version of himself/herself.  The only basis of comparison you should have for yourself is the "you" that you want to be.

While I try to be pretty open about the struggles I face as a woman, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a writer, and a mom on this blog and on my personal facebook page, I am also very careful about what I talk about or portray about my children, husband, and family because their struggles are their own.  I try very carefully to only say things that I would say in front of them, if not now than in years to come.  Who knows how long my digital trail will last and it is my utmost desire to make sure that what my sons read when they are older about themselves through my eyes are all things that I would want them to know and hear.  Do we have tough moments?  Sure.  Do I have mean mom moments when I think ungenerous things about those I love? Absolutely.  Do I struggle with how much of my struggle to reveal?  You bet. I will never claim to be an absolutely open book when it comes to those I love or even myself on social media.  I will always present them in the same positive light that I want them to see themselves in.  I feel my words are powerful and I would never want a misplaced word to cause my sons or my husband or any one else I love to judge themselves harshly or to feel judged through my eyes.

I feel strongly that while our social media should probably be a representation of our "authentic" selves, it does not need to be a representation of every facet of us or every whim and emotion we experience and we certainly don't need to share every unflattering thing we know about our children or our partners!  Our "authentic" selves are the selves that are realistic, multi-dimensional and represent what we overall are like.  If we over share every mistake we make, we are not sharing our "authentic" selves because we are sharing mistakes that don't really define us or shouldn't really define us in our own minds or in the minds of others.  If we over share every success, we are not sharing our "authentic" selves because we are also only showing a small part of who we are.  I am perfectly comfortable meeting people where they want me to meet them.  I'd much rather know about people's accomplishments and joys so that I may celebrate with them and know only about the struggles they feel comfortable sharing with me than to have everyone know everything in a public space like social media.  If I wouldn't feel comfortable announcing something to the local paper or announcing it in the front yard, I probable wouldn't offer it up to social media because it is the virtual version of the same thing.  Just because giving everyone access to everything is one click away now does not mean that we have to share everything with everyone.  My facebook page represents an authentic version of me, but only my close friends and family know the complete "real" me warts and all.  I only share all of my struggles with those who love all of me. That's my policy.

What do you say?
Shawna

Guys and Dolls: How a Little Play Violence is Helping my Son be LessAgressive

"Oh, no, Michael!" CRASH! "Mama, my first son just slammed into the wall! He needs to make better choices! That's a bad consequence."

This is the kind of thing I've been hearing a lot since Christmas.  This is not how I originally envisioned my eldest playing with "Michael" a cloth boy doll with soft velvety material for skin and a wry half smile that my son loves, but, it seems to be very therapeutic for him and is shaping his behavior for the better so, I'm rolling with it for now!

I originally got Michael because my son kept talking about the ten sons he wants to adopt someday and support with his job as a photographer (no spouse necessary apparently and how they are going to all ride on the motorcycle he plans to drive is a mystery, but he's four so he has time to figure it out).   I also thought the doll would be handy for role playing now that our second son is crawling around and getting into all our eldest's toys and he's been frustrated by that.  I remember my mom using my dolls in a similar way and trying to substitute stuffed animals didn't seem to have the same results.  I also thought it could be a chance for him to practice the fathering skills that his father demonstrates daily and can take out some of the down time when daddy or mama has to stop games to change brother or soothe him; I thought maybe Michael's diaper could be changed at the same time.  (I remember vividly doing that kind of thing when I was four when my little brother needed attention.). Maybe Michael will get to fill those roles someday, but for now he's primarily a flying scape goat and occasional car violence victim or punching bag.

At first I found the level of violence horrifyingly fascinating. I wasn't sure how to react.  I decided to watch his "play" with Michael to find the "why and what purpose" the play was serving before I intervened with alternatives and the results were fascinating.  Most of my eldest's frustrations with his younger sibling became deflected on Michael.  If I said "pushing your brother down is not a good way to keep him from your toys," my eldest would simply push down Michael, or throw him, or hit him, or kick him before I could even get to asking about alternatives or suggesting alternative interactions with his brother.  Sometimes, the intensity of his anger was a bit scary.  However, after getting his aggression out with Michael, he was much better at suggesting and using alternative behaviors with his brother, so I let him continue.

This course of (in)action seems to be working because, on his own, the interactions with Michael have become less violent as his interactions with his brother improve by the use of new sibling strategies.  There are just days when Michael is in for it, but the important part is that my youngest is now much safer because my eldest is tempted less often to physically lash out at him.

While I still believe in trying to teach my son to use words to get his feelings out, Michael is helping me see that sometimes it may be too much to expect a four year old's language skills and understanding to be adequate enough to get out the intensity of the emotions he is feeling when he is feeling it.  An adult's primary way of playing through emotions may be to talk about it in conversation and tell what happened, but a child's primary way of working through emotions is to physically play it out and then talk about it later.  In fact, it seems like I was skipping an essential step in even understanding my son's emotions when I wanted him to role play "nicely" with me before he'd even had a chance to physically play out and understand the intensity of his anger and frustration. If we adults "need" to play violent video games, play basketball, call a friend or go for a hard run to work through intense stress and emotion, why wouldn't our children also need to do some intense activity to physically let out the stress of what they are working through?  Isn't it the same impulse?  Frustrations with a newly mobile sibling may seem like small potatoes to us, but that's just because it's not new or intense for us.  It is both for my eldest son.  Michael has helped as a tool to work through that.

Michael also gets to provide some wish fulfillment for my son.  While my eldest broke his arm trying to ride a laundry basket down the stairs just a week and a half before Christmas, Michael has made several unsuccessful and successful dare devil antics without getting hurt.  While my son has learned the hard way that he cannot climb furniture, ride down the stairs, or jump off rickety things, Michael gladly does it for him without injury.  This is particularly important because of the restricted activity my son is currently limited to because of his broken arm.  (Something else that must be supremely frustrating and might have been at the root of some of that anger that got taken out on Michael.)

I'd read in Lawrence Cohen's awesome book Playful Parenting that children work through their trauma and their feelings (especially negative feelings or uncomfortable emotions) through play because the fiction of play creates a safe space in which they can explore both the things they have experienced and that which they fear experiencing.  I think maybe Michael is a vehicle through which my son is doing some tough emotional work and if it keeps my eldest son happy and able to deal more positively with his brother and it means that he will never again scare the crap out of me by riding a laundry basket down the stairs, so be it!  

Thanks for reading,
Shawna

P.S. I'm still hoping to see those sweet, traditional doll play fathering moments, too . . . some day.

new year; fresh start

This week it will cease to be 2013, and begin 2014. Its a non-existent line in some non-existent sand, but one that hold so much significance to so many people. I don't know why it does, but heaven help me it really feels like a clean slate, a fresh chance.

As a mom I find myself looking for clean slates. Its so easy to hold every raised voice, every overreaction, ever missed learning opportunity against myself. Its so easy to judge myself and find me to be lacking. So here's to using this fresh start to allow myself a little more forgiveness. Fresh slate, new day, new year.... my mom sins have been purged and I'm starting anew.

When we hold on to old "failures" (whether they be a real failure, or only something that feels that way in our heads), we bring ourselves down, wear ourselves out, and set ourselves up for future "failures." When we forgive, give ourselves the space to be human, and show our children that everyone makes mistakes but if we own them and learn from them then they aren't failures.

So my parenting resolution for the New Year? Make mistakes, and let them go. Be the best mom I can be to Gwen in each particular moment. Then start anew.

What do you hope for the New Year?

I thought it would be forever...

I thought I would fight you on sleep forever. When the nights are long, and you have to be shushed and bounced and rocked and nursed, it feels like forever. But here we are at almost 4, and bedtime is a breeze. After we read a book, I tuck you in and turn out the lights. I rub your back for just a minute, then we give kisses, I tell you how much I love you and I leave. Simple as that.

I thought I would nurse you forever. When you are touched out and tired and sore, it feels like forever. But at 39 months you led me, and did it yourself. The end was as peaceful and sweet as I had hoped, and you still remember fondly how you drank milkies.

I thought you would be in diapers forever. When you are changing your 2 poop diaper of the day, and being told NO that you don't want to sit on the potty, it feels like forever. But when the time was right, you did that practically on your own too. Happily sitting on the toilet to pee, and fine with waiting if we weren't next to a bathroom.


Despite how it feels when you are tired and worn, I know that nothing is really forever. Except for my love for you, child. That will never change.

Domestic Violence in Your Community: Remembering Chris Keith

Recently, my community and the blogging community suffered the loss of a person I never even knew before she was gone. She wrote a blog "Confessions of a Thrifty Mama on a City 'Stead," homeschooled her children, went to church, and by all accounts was an amazing person who did her best to live sustainably and ecologically in tune with her family and her community.  As we seem to have friends in common, I am sorry I never got the chance to know her and now never will.  She was Chris Keith, a devoted mother, who was doing the best she could for her children and was struggling to divorce the father of her three youngest children and was killed by him Dec. 4.  (He also killed himself and Chris' eldest son, Isaac Miller, who was just 14, that night.)

Because I did not know her, I cannot speak to her specific story and what the details were of her life, but I feel compelled to share the facts of her death (and life) with you for two very specific reasons.  The first is to break some of the silence and isolation that empowers domestic violence to continue.    Our contributing author Amy has written bravely of her own story to that end and I want to share her story as well here.  It is not easy to leave and both Amy and Chris deserve recognition for their bravery in fighting to get out of their situations.  I'm not sure anyone knows the details of what Chris was going through this year as she left her husband, but the one silver lining to this tragedy is that while two innocent souls were tragically lost last week, the lives of her three youngest children (who were thankfully not home that night and were spending time with their grandparents who are now going to raise them) were quite possibly saved by her courageous decision to leave their clearly mentally unstable father.  While these children have been both orphaned and have suffered the loss of their elder brother in a single horrific incident, they are still very much alive and will keep the legacy of their mother's bravery and devotion with them.

This leads me to the second reason for me to share this story, the church where she used to attend has created a memorial fund for her and Isaac in order to benefit the three young children who have been left behind.  Obviously, their grandparents who are now planning to raise them, had no idea that they would be taking them in and need funds to fix their van, make their house work for three young children, and generally care for their grandchildren.  If you have not already allocated your charitable funds this holiday season, please consider giving to them.  The link is here.  It is not tax deductible because it is not going to the church or to a non-profit domestic violence charity (although both of those causes would probably benefit from some patronage as well), but to the family directly so that they can deal with the practicalities of surviving the loss of this brave, powerful woman and her son.

Also, if you know someone who is in a relationship that you suspect is abusive, please talk to them privately about it and offer your support (it may take several offers before she feels safe enough to confide in you).  This is the first step to helping her.  Here is a link to the national domestic violence hotline for more specific information and help with planning an exodus safely.  As Chris' story illustrates tragically, it is a life and death situation.

Thanks for reading,
Shawna

Birth Matters: So Does Motherhood

 I believe in birth.  I believe that women's bodies were made to birth naturally and that most women, if left alone medically and supported emotionally, will birth and that experience will be both powerful and transforming.  I believe that birth matters for not just the mother and the baby, but also for the family unit as a whole.  I can attest that had I not been successful in my VBAC last march, I would have had a different kind of recovery and our bonding as a family would have been very different and might well have been more difficult, but difficult is not impossible.

You see, I've been reading a lot of different blogs and articles lately about the importance of your birth on the bonding process and the impact your birth can have on your child for life.  Whether its the physical trauma of a csection on the body of the mother and the baby or the stress put on the spine of an infant when misaligned for long periods before a vaginal birth or the emotional trauma of a long separation after surgery for a mother and child or the emotional impact of the use of pitocin during labor, there is no doubt that birth has the power to profoundly affect the developing relationship between a mother and child.  However, I don't think birth defines that relationship.  It is the start of the relationship and for a time it might set a tone for the relationship, but it is not the final word on your relationship.

I don't care how rocky the start might have been between you and your child, how many "mistakes" you think happened in your birth, how many interventions happened in your birth, or how traumatic your birth was for you and/or your baby, as long as you are both alive at the end of it, there is still hope.  After a birth, comes motherhood and the choices you make as a mother matter even more than the choices you made in birth.  Not just the choices you make with your newborn, but the choices you make with your toddler, preschooler, and even your teen.  What is dynamic and awe inspiring and humbling about motherhood is that it is completely based on the unique, idiosyncratic relationship you have with your child.  Just as your relationship keeps evolving, so, too does your mothering skills and what is even more inspiring beyond that is that it is never too late to change.  Even if your children are adults, your relationship with them is still important and although it gets tougher as they get older, your role as their parent is never not important and is still impactful.  If you doubt me, think about how strong your emotions are about your own parents whether you have good, strong relationships with them or not.  Ambiguity and ambivalence are not descriptors that are often used for the relationships between parents and children at any age for good reason; the depth of our emotions (positive or negative) prove how important and primary the relationship is to us all.

So, if you feel distant, take steps to get closer.  If you feel like you are not bonded, do some bonding activities.  If you made choices you now regret in your birth, in your newborn parenting, in your young child years parenting, or even last week, let your child know about your regrets.  Let them know that you want to make a new choice now and then make it.  Every beginning is just that, a beginning.  It isn't the whole story.  It's never too late to make a new start.  Birth matters the way every introduction matters, but it's not the end.  If it was adoption would never work and we all know that adoption does.  Beautifully.  Take heart, mama.  Make a new story for you and your child with the choice you make today.

Thanks for reading,
Shawna

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