Thursday, May 31, 2007

Birth is a pissing contest among women

So says someone on my mommy message board. This discussion came about because someone posted some link to a homebirth vbac story and people were talking about it. The woman in the story was ecstatic to have a vaginal birth after 2 (or was it 3?) c-sections, and several people just couldn't understand why anyone really cared how their baby got into the world.

Now, before I delve into that, I will say there is something about women that tends to make them share birth stories with each other, and often it seems to be a contest to see whose is the worst, longest labor, most interventions, most drugs, fewest drugs, biggest tear, most stitches, and on and on. They are women's war stories, stories of their survival and their entrance into womanhood (let's not get into the fact that you don't have to incubate another person in your body to be a woman, the instinct for telling these stories is probably as old as humanity, and open adoption and a chosen child free life are new to societal acceptance).

So, war stories, passage into womanhood. Yes, birthing a baby is a life event. A life changing event at that. It is up there with marriage and death and coming of age. And like coming of age and marriage, how many women fantasize about giving birth and how it is going to be and how they are going to greet this new person and how special it is going to be. I know I did. I know other women do too. If we didn't, there would be no need for Lamaze and hypnobirthing and Bradley and birth plans, etc. We would go into birthing with no expectations and just let things flow and what will be will be.

Now, of course, some women are like that, and that is fine. But for those of us who had dreams of singing Happy Birthday Baby! and counting fingers and toes and dreams of claiming our womanhood by pushing out a baby with our own bodies, having things go differently than we'd hoped is a loss. Healthy mom, healthy baby. You hear this mantra, and yes, that is the utmost importance. But it doesn't mean the loss and grief felt by some women who end up with unwanted interventions or unwanted c-sections is any less real.

Imagine, if you will, your wedding day. Did you have the fluffy white dress, and tons of flowers and the tall white cake and an orchestra? No? Did you want them and not get them? Was it planned and fell apart at the last minute? You still got married, so what's the big deal? The wedding is just one day, right?
What if you just wanted a small ceremony with the JoP and a handful of friends and your mother steamrolled you into a huge event with 12 bridesmaids and and 400 guests? You're still married, right?

But it does matter when the big day doesn't go as planned. You get angry and you cry and you grieve. Sometimes for a lifetime. Sometimes for just a day. But the feelings are there and you are entitled to them.

Birth is the same way, I think. Only, we have pushed the focus (or maybe it has always been there) on nothing matters but a healthy mom and healthy baby and claim it doesn't matter how the baby gets into the world. But, for many women, it does matter, and for some, it matters a great deal. The feeling that they have lost control of their own body, or that their body has failed them can be there. They may mourn the lost time spent with their new baby. Sure, the baby doesn't remember those minutes or hours, but mom does.

So, there is loss and grief and mourning, and if things were traumatic enough, there is depression and even PTSD. And sadly, in our society, this is all too often ignored and pushed under the rug and women are made to feel alone or even a little bit crazy for how they feel. Because, all that matters is that mom and baby are healthy, right? Maybe. But maybe not. I choose to believe that baby's arrival into the world is an important event and how she gets here has at least a measure of importance that should not be overlooked.

So, if you've had a disappointing or even traumatic birth, know that you are not alone, and that the feelings you may be feeling are real and normal and you have every right to them, even if it is months or even years after.

Only, if you aren't moving through the grief process and dealing with them or if it is overwhelming your life, then I would suggest you need some help, either counseling or drugs, because you do have to process the emotions and deal with them, just like with any loss.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Wow, how long has it been?

I've been neglecting this lately. So, let's catch up. The girls graduated from preschool last week and are on summer vacation. Em has already asked once if they were going to school that day, so I think she's going to miss it over the summer. But, fall will be here all too soon and with it, pre-kindy (if they get in that program).

The boy has a birthday coming up. He will be 2 in 3 weeks and I will officially no longer have a baby.
And, I've weaned him from the boob. Surprisingly I occasionally find myself a little sad about it, but overall I'm overjoyed. And he made the transition easily. Naps were the hardest to get down, but we seem to have a routine, now. And, I'm planning to send him to Mother's day out next fall, and he had to be able to go to sleep without a boob.

What else?

Oh yes, the reason I haven't been on here too much. One of my dear friends encouraged me to stop thinking about being a writer and to actually be a writer, so, I've been writing. In less than three weeks I have written 56 pages of trashy romance novel. If I had been this prolific of a writer for my master's thesis, I would have finished the damned thing and would have an MA in hand instead of crapping out on it like I did.

I am actually starting to think of myself as a writer and I am writing a couple of pages almost every day. And I have plans to join Romance Writers of America and the local chapter here in N'ville so I can get support and access to a critique group. Good times!

Perhaps I will be accepting my first advance sometime in the foreseeable future!

Monday, May 14, 2007

Mother's Day

We had a lovely day. I actually got my goodies last week, as we were at my parents' house this weekend.
I got a new light for the kitchen and a wicker chaise lounge for the patio and a bunch of plants for the garden.
Yesterday, I got some sweet cards from the kids and the manwhore and got to take a lovely nap.

I had my lovely friend Autumn Zephyr make my mother a watch that was just beautiful. Mother actually gasped when she saw it.

We stayed too late and didn't get home until almost midnight, so now all are tired and cranky.

But, in other exciting news, the boy child has not nursed since Thursday! Yay! At 23 months old, I am quite ready to be done. He's been asking for it this morning, but as been ok without it.

Friday, May 11, 2007

100 years

I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live.
-Five for Fighting

I don't know why, but this song makes me cry. I've listened to it like 5 times tonight
.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

I'm tired.

I've been gardening over the last few days. Sunday, we went to Home Depot and dh bought me a lounge chair to match my outdoor wicker and a bunch of plants for the flower beds. I've planted 4 window boxes, 5 pots, transplanted several things from one place to another, planted 9 things in the front and 8 pots of mondo grass around the patio. I need about 16 more pots of it, but I don't have the mojo to plant that much at once. :lol I've done all this over several days, not just today. Oh, and also I've been weeding. Fun. Nice exercise, though. And, I'm not done, I want more plants in front and more pots and some herbs and tomatoes and stuff. And more mondo grass (it's like thin, very green monkey grass.

I was going to wax philosophical about this happy place I am in right now. But, I'm too tired. lol So, I'm going to bed.

Friday, May 04, 2007

The quirks of women

Last night I went to my yoga class, and Dawn, the chick that teaches the class before (kickboxing, I believe) was packing up. Her, my yoga teacher, and one classmate were talking about last weekend's Music City Marathon, and the 5K fun run at the Y the week before. The classmate made some disparaging remarks about her time and whatnot, so Dawn fusses at her for it. You ran 26 miles! That kind of thing.
They got to talking about women who do stupid things like not eat the day before (Hello, how are you supposed to run with no fuel in your body), and about how women who work out and are amateur athletes are too obsessed with number on a scale and not with how fit they are.

This is so true. When I was a skinny thing, I was totally upset by the fact that I outweighed friends by 20, 30 or even 40 lbs (when your best friend weighs 95 lbs, this isn't hard to do). Through most of my teen years, I lifted weights and rode an exercise bike multiple times a week, plus marching band and show choir and shit. I was in pretty good shape and had pretty good muscle mass.

As an adult, I know people who are like this, too. One woman I know, S, has run marathons and runs on a regular basis and works out a lot. She looks good, thin and fit. Especially when you take into consideration her 4 yr old twins and 9 month old baby girl. Yet, she is upset that she weighs about 160 lbs. But she has to be 160 lbs of muscle, because she is not fat.

C, another woman in the multiples group where I know S, is actually in therapy for her food issues. Not that I think this is a bad idea, since I think I could use some, too, but still, therapy over food. Men would scoff at the idea. I can't even get my man to consider a nutritionist.

Another good friend, T, has put away her scale and is focusing on being healthy and not on a number, which is an awesome thing to do. She itty bitty and very fit and I think was getting upset that the number wasn't what she would like it to be. Remember that the same volume of muscle weighs more than an equal volume of fat. ;)

So, women are strange creatures with our relationships to food and scales and dieting. I do realize that men have their problems, too, otherwise there wouldn't be any fat men, and there are plenty of those. But women do seem to have the larger share of food issues.

I wish all of us could be like my sil, who eats whatever the hell she wants, but knows to stop when she's full, and so far as I've seen, once full, doesn't take another bite and she is a normal, healthy weight. Somehow or other, she has totally managed to avoid having food issues.

The odd thing is that the manwhore does have food issues. How he ended up with them and not his sister is a mystery. I am envious of her food freedom, though. I hope to be there, one day.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Oh, I am a SPOILED wife.

Spoiled, I say! The manwhore sold some stock (not that we have that much, but some) so we could afford to buy the white van. The one I lurve! The one with leather seats. He actually made me cry, I was so surprised. Lovely man.