lydia : an urban crunchy mama

I am in the mood for the brevity of bullet-points this week.

• I am finding it difficult to get through each day without a post-lunch nap. Looking back, I don’t know how I was able to teach full-time while pregnant with Taylor.
• I am craving and eating more high-sugar fruit, bread, pasta, and rice than my body has become accustomed to in recent months, and I am paying the price with digestive discomfort.
• As I lather myself with soap in the shower one evening, I notice a band of extra flesh at my midsection. Game on — I’m pregnant.
• I manage to cook Thanksgiving dinner (without an afternoon nap) and stuff myself silly with food. I am grateful that any nausea I might one day experience during this pregnancy did not interfere with my ability to cook for our family.
• We interview another midwife, and, between the two, we choose one.
• I read a review about a new brand of cloth diapers that fit 5-pound babies to 40-pound babies. I admire a chamber pot from a catalog that was sent to our house and wonder what we’ll actually use for “catches”. I also admire some toddler-friendly tableware, a set of enamel pieces and a wooden set (like Taylor has and still uses).
• We buy a Christmas tree, and Jim and Taylor decorate it with lights and ornaments. Taylor and I string popcorn on long strands of thread.
• Taylor and I recline side-by-side on the couch as we watch cooking shows on TV. I soak in how affectionate she is with me and appreciate her warmth.
• I feel especially silly asking for anything this Christmas (even if it is for a Secret Santa ritual). What more do I really need?

You may have noticed that this week’s post is two days “early”. Well, it’s because I’ve adjusted my due date to reflect a more middle-of-the-road estimate. Up until now, I was assuming an October 14th conception date (because I tend to ovulate later than most women in my cycle); however, we also tried to conceive on the 12th and 10th as well. With an October 12th estimated conception date, each new pregnancy week begins on Tuesdays instead on Thursdays.

This slight adjustment can make a big difference if the baby is born “early” (i.e. just shy of 37 weeks) or ”late” (i.e. after 41 weeks). If a woman goes into labor before the 37-week mark, she can no longer birth at home. If a woman does not go into labor on her own before 41 weeks and 2 days, her care may be transfered to a doctor and she may be induced in a hospital setting.

Thursday
Jim and I meet with a prospective midwife and have an hour-long discussion with her. On one hand, it amazes me that I’m asking her such tough questions about her qualifications, opinions, and experiences (because this level of depth is almost unheard of when under the care of an obstetrician). On the other hand, I understand that this level of discussion is absolutely necessary for this kind of working relationship.

(Whomever we ultimately choose to be) our midwife, Jim, and I will work in partnership with each other. None of us will automatically trump another’s view point or decision-making capacity. All of us will contribute to the conversation and decide to move forward together. With this dynamic, the prospective midwife, Jim, and I need to make sure that we have enough common ground and a solid enough of a foundation on which to build our trust.

This midwife asks us separately why we have chosen homebirth. I go first. I describe my desire for partnership with my care provider,  a model of care based on evidence and my unique needs. As I speak, I am somewhat surprised to hear that the answer is so simple. Essentially, I want a healthy, inter-dependent relationship as opposed to a much less healthy, co-dependent relationship.

Jim speaks next, and I am overwhelmed by his compassion and understanding. He has seen how deeply my pregnancy and birth with Taylor has affected me, and he has also learned enough about the birthing process to understand why a couple would choose a homebirth instead of a hospital birth. It is the first time I have ever heard Jim speak so succinctly about our journey and about childbirth. With tears in my eyes, I lay my hand on his leg and express my gratitude.

Friday
I notice how my hormones may be affecting my emotions. Little annoyances feel like big annoyances, and the part of me that is trying to be mindful of this shift is annoyed that I am more annoyed than usual. Jim allows me the space to vent and also keeps me in check, reminding me that I am choosing to be annoyed. All I can do is laugh at myself.

At this point in my pregnancy with Taylor, I visited my OB practice for the first time and had an ultrasound to confirm my pregnancy. Taylor appeared on the screen as a little peanut, and we shared the print-out with Jim’s family on a trip to Pebble Beach.

This time, there is no ultrasound, no machine to confirm whether or not a little human is growing inside of me. I could choose to have one, I suppose, but I see no reason. All the tests in the world cannot guarantee one result or another, so what is the point of undergoing the procedure? While I know this is true, I can’t help but ask myself sometimes, “Really? Is there really a person growing in here?”.

Disbelief may hang in the air, but I feel better knowing that other women may feel the same way. Rixa Freeze (an ultra-crunchy mama who have birth to her daughter unassisted) also experiences inklings of disbelief at certain points in her current pregnancy. I figure that if Rixa, a mama who has conducted her own prenatals and given birth twice before, can experience some level of disbelief, then it’s “OK” for me to wonder too.

Sunday
We are scheduled to meet with another midwife for an interview, but she leaves us a message early in the morning to tell us that she is attending someone’s birth. We’ll have to reschedule for another time.

As Jim, Taylor, and I eat dinner, Taylor asks when we will have the opportunity to see her (the aforementioned midwife) again. It occurs to me that in the standard model of maternity care, my care provider would remain a nameless, faceless individual for the duration of my pregnancy and perhaps forever in Taylor’s eyes. Because we have chosen homebirth midwifery care, Taylor has already met these prospectives midwives and refers to them by their first names.

From the start, our entire little family is part of the process. Jim isn’t relegated to the sidelines, and Taylor isn’t viewed as a distraction. Once again, the contrast is striking.

Saturday
Early Morning
I awake before Jim and Taylor, turn on my bedside lamp, and continue to read from Marianne Williamson’s A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of ‘A Course in Miracles’. Every few sentences, I stop to think the thoughts and feel the feelings coming through me. Soon after, I hear Jim’s and Taylor’s voices and movements, and I open the shades.

I continue to read but am once again distracted by what I feel. As the sun shines more brightly into the room, I listen to the sounds coming from the kitchen — the clank of the toaster oven pan, the gentle scraping of a spatula on a skillet, Taylor humming happily as she munches on her breakfast, Jim singing a silly, kid’s tune.

I close my eyes and drink in the blessing that is my life. From this place of gratitude and abundance, clarity is the natural result. What really matters becomes amplified and that which does not falls away.

Late Afternoon
Jim, Taylor, other curious expectant couples, and I meet with three of the community’s homebirth midwives at Natural Resources. My eyes well with tears as the first mother-to-be introduces herself, and by the time it’s my turn, I release a flood of emotion.

Mindful of other people’s process in their pregnancy journey, I keep it simple. I share that Taylor was born in a hospital, that it was a natural (drug-free) childbirth, and that our attendance at this meeting has been a long time coming.

As I release these tears, I realize that I am not completely healed from my hospital experience and begin to understand the magnitude of this gathering.

Taylor patiently listens to over an hour of birth talk and interestedly watches a film about a couple’s homebirth experience. I have exposed Taylor to birth imagery and terminology since she was very small, so all of this is very familiar material for her. Despite her previous exposure to it and her naturally calm temperament, I am still impressed by her attention and patience.

I give one of the midwives (whom I have collaborated with on birth advocacy work in the past) a quick squeeze and say, “good-bye”.

We walk a few blocks and duck into a loud restaurant bar featuring Italian-inspired cuisine. Over pizza and steak, Jim and I discuss next-steps and agree that we should schedule interviews with select midwives as soon as possible.

When we get back to the house, I go online to book an interview with one of the midwives. An online scheduling system! So 21st century! I am not too surprised though. From what I know of this midwife, this convenient feature makes perfect sense.

Sunday
Early Morning
Taylor shares a dream from her sleep state. She dreams that I give birth to a baby boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, a boy that looks very much like Jim’s nephew, Nicholas. I am thoroughly amused by this, and my laughter catches Taylor by surprise.

Wednesday
I call a homebirth midwife (who I’ve had my mind on for the past couple of years) and ask to schedule an interview; however, she and her partner will be away around the time of my due date.

I call another midwife (who has more recently entered my field), and we have a lovely chat and set up an interview time. She may have a wedding to attend during the July 4th weekend, but she’s not particularly attached to that trip. We agree to meet and see how things might unfold.

I refer to my many books about pregnancy and birth to compile a list of interview questions. I pull exact quotes from Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin, Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering by Sarah J. Buckley, MD, and Your Best Birth by Ricki Lake and Abby Epstein. I also go online to check Childbirth Connection and come up with some of my own questions.

You may notice that I am not asking all of the “requisite” questions. It is because we attended that gathering at Natural Resources a few days ago, where many of those questions were answered (e.g. hospital back-up procedures, insurance coverage, etc.). If you would like to see a more comprehensive list of questions, I suggest referencing the resources I mention above.

• How, when, and where did you receive your midwifery education?
• How many births have you attended?
• What is your basic philosophy of care?
• When was your training in resuscitation of mother and baby renewed?
• Do you have any additional skills (e.g. massage certification, herbs, homeopathy, etc.)?
• Do you maintain statistics? May I see them?
• Do you participate in regular peer review? Why or why not?
• How many women are due within a month of my due date?
• How often will we meet prenatally? And in the postpartum period?
• What prenatal tests do you require?
• What are your recommendations about my diet during pregnancy?
• What kind of instrument do you use to monitor the baby prenatally? During labor?
• What problems or complications in pregnancy would mean that a physician would become my primary maternity caregiver? What arrangements would you have for my care should I develop one of these complications or problems? Would you continue to have a role in my care?
• What is your hospital transfer rate? Under what circumstances do you transfer?
• Which hospital do you prefer for transfers? Why?
• What care and observations will you do during labor?
• Are there laws or regulations that may influence the care that you can offer?
• How do you decide which midwife will be the second midwife at the birth?
• Right after the baby is born, what is the normal routine (e.g. cord clamping, suctioning, placenta, etc.)?
• What kind of mother-to-be is the best fit for you as a midwife? Have you declined to work with clients based on issues with fit?

Artist: Katherine Skaggs

Thursday
I enter my naturopath’s office with an entirely different conversation in mind — I’m pregnant, and my body is fighting the flu. We review my cycle in more detail; discuss supplements and vitamins I need to continue, begin, and discontinue; and plan for next-steps regarding my pregnancy.

She orders bloodwork to check hCG levels and to ensure they are increasing normally for this stage in pregnancy. I am to be tested twice, once for a baseline and once to see how hCG levels may have changed in the course of 48 hours. She also encourages me to start looking for a homebirth midwife.

Later that evening, I share the news with the ladies at Women’s Circle.

Friday
Morning
As Jim, Taylor and I start our day in the kitchen, I share the baby news with Taylor, and it is apparent that she needs to process this new information too. I show her a single sesame seed to illustrate the current size of the baby. On the way to school, I ask Taylor what month the baby will be born, and she says, “June”.

Early Evening
Taylor molds the entire length of her body into mine as we sit in her rocking chair and talk about gestating babies. For the first time, it occurs to me that in just a few months, Taylor will not be able to enjoy the spacious comfort of my lap because my belly will protrude too far to make it possible. I savor the moment.

Saturday
Although it is a non-work day, my naturopath e-mails me with my bloodwork results. My hCG levels are consistent with someone who is 4-6 weeks pregnant, and my thyroid is functioning normally. With such rapid turnaround with these results, I hope to receive the next set by Tuesday.

Sunday
The rain falling outside has provided the perfect cocoon in which to put my thoughts around these few weeks to paper. Up until now, I have been recalling moments from the recent past, and going forward I plan to write and share as life unfolds.

Monday
Early Morning
I feel a lump of emotion forming in my throat and chest as I reflect on all the people who are already in place to support me in this pregnancy.

At this point in my pregnancy with Taylor, I had only Jim by my side. At this point, I had already called my OB to schedule my first prenatal appointment, but the obstetric practice refused to see me until I was at least seven weeks along.

As I look around me now, I have Jim and Taylor at home. I have a Certified Nurse Midwife as a dear friend and mentor, two acupuncturists, a chiropractor, a naturopath, a prenatal yoga instructor, massage therapists, friends who are doulas and lactation consultants, a collective of homebirth midwives, and an amazing group of mama friends.

On one hand, noticing this contrast only underscores the unfortunate isolation in which most pregnant women in our culture experience their pregnancies and births. At the same time, I am grateful to experience this contrast first-hand.

Late Afternoon
I receive the second set of results from my naturopath today; call Jim to share the news; and announce to the world via Facebook and my blog that I am pregnant.

Tuesday
Somewhere between sleeping and waking this morning, I see a list of names, a list of Taylor’s classmates in alphabetical order, to be more specific. Taylor’s name is second from the bottom, and underneath her name is “Jackson”. Is this little baby inside me a boy?

Wednesday
As I sit across from my therapist, I take a moment to recognize the emotional work and cleansing that I have undertaken recently. I feel grounded and sit in immense gratitude. I also notice the weight that I have been carrying in my chest, around my heart chakra (the chakra that represents the bridge between the earthly aspects and the divine aspects of my Being) has lightened significantly. I am more myself than I have ever been.

Artist: Katherine Skaggs

Thursday, Friday, Saturday & Sunday
A negative pregnancy test sends me into more confusion and, of course, disappointment. The spotting I experienced since Day 23 of my cycle has yet to stop, and the uncertainty of it all unsettles me.

We return home on Friday, and on the plane, I resign myself to not being pregnant. I am somewhat thankful because traveling always takes a toll on my body and health, of which I would prefer not to subject a growing baby.

We spend Saturday recuperating from our trip and settling into home life. I send an e-mail to my naturopath, describing my cycle and requesting lab slips for bloodwork.

Sunday rolls around and places us square into Halloween festivities. I welcome the distraction of costumes and trick-or-treating. We meet Thais and her family for dinner, where Thais offers me an opportunity to re-test at her house. I wave the opportunity off because I cannot bear to see another negative stick.

Monday
I call my naturopath’s office to schedule an appointment for Thursday morning.

Tuesday
I am still swirling in confusion — still no blood. I have lost track of whether I am still spotting or not. Moments before I pick Taylor up from school, I decide to consult my tarot cards.

I choose four instead of three. The first card reveals the struggle of my ego and my lack of inner harmony. The second offers hope and clarity and asks me to fulfill my destiny. The third depicts a woman wearing a three-pearled necklace with a fourth pearl sitting in her palm. She is here to show me that my heart’s longing is for the asking. The fourth card reveals the integrity that comes with living in alignment and represents “aspects of my essence that have long laid dormant (which) are now surfacing for full expression”.

I jump up and make an unexpected trip to the drugstore before reuniting with Taylor.

Once back at home, I take another test, and in less than the prescribed time, I see a “+” sign in the window. I don’t know what to do with myself. Tears begin to well in my chest and push their way up to my eyes. I lay one hand on my heart as the flood rises but I consciously stop the flow. While I want to share the news with Taylor, I want to tell Jim first, and he is still biking home.

Unsettled now with excitement, I walk to and from the kitchen (where Taylor is) and the front window. Back and forth. Back and forth. Completely distracted and unable to think of anything else, I ask Taylor to hypothetically predict the season in which her future sibling would be born.

“I think summer is a nice time of year, ” she replied.

I then inquire about the baby’s gender, and after a thoughtful moment, Taylor proclaims that the baby will be a girl.

I think of the third tarot card I pulled that afternoon and its astrological sign, Cancer. This detail is usually unimportant to me, but this time I am drawn to its significance. I power up the computer to discover that the Cancer sign spans from June 22 to July 22 — squarely at the beginning of summer (as Taylor had predicted).

Jim finally arrives. I nonchalantly ask him if we have plans for this upcoming summer, and, with a curious look, he asks, “Why?”.

“Because we’re having a baby,” I answer.

We are both suspended somewhere between excitement, doubt, and disbelief. Three hours later, I pee on another stick, and that’s positive too. We call our respective mothers and swear them to secrecy.

* * *

This post was written as I recalled the events leading up to Week 5.

Artist: Katherine Skaggs

Thursday
I meet with Taylor’s preschool director to discuss options for kindergarten, but our conversation begins with the director asking if I have considered returning to teaching. We discuss the possibilities around my returning to join her staff, and I leave that meeting absolutely floored.

Our meeting serves as a reminder that when I live in alignment with who I really am, opportunities arise on their own. I have trusted since Taylor’s birth that my next call to work (outside the home) would come at the right time, and it appears that this moment has come to meet me.

Friday
8:45 a.m.
I tour a charter school for the second time to make sure my first impressions are not somehow inflated. I bump into a friend from Women’s Circle, and our eyes brim with tears. The building itself is shabby, but the school community and its approach to education is soulful. The music teacher is a living example of uninhibited joy.

later that morning
I meet my dear friend, Thais, for a walk, and we share some of the big shifts that are occurring in our lives. At one point, Thais laughs heartily and says, “With the week you’re having, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re pregnant.”

3:50 p.m.
I e-mail Taylor’s preschool director to formally express my interest in working with her again. In a separate e-mail, I also propose the formation of a mindful parenting support group, a monthly circle that provides an opportunity for parents to learn new skills and to share their personal experiences.

6:00 p.m.
Jim, Taylor, and I attend a fundraising event for Taylor’s school, and when I see B (Taylor preschool director), she welcomes me with outstretched arms, telling me how much she loved the e-mails I sent to her.

7:30 p.m.
Back at home, I check my inbox to read exactly how B responded to my e-mails. I am once again overwhelmed by the Universe’s abundance and generosity.

Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday
Expecting to gain some clarity around my cycle, I pack a pregnancy test in my suitcase for Maui. Jim, Taylor, and I embark on a Hawaiian vacation with my brother-in-law and his family and my parents-in-law.

We arrive in Maui and purchase groceries for the days ahead. We settle into our rental home and explore Lahaina on Tuesday. Because it is especially windy on Wednesday, we visit the Maui Ocean Center, and by early evening the wind calms enough for us to enjoy a dinner luau by the ocean. On the luau’s grounds, a fertility goddess stands under a thatched hut. I ask for her blessings and place a lei full of orchids around her head.

* * *

This post was written as I recalled the events leading up to Week 5.

Artist: Katherine Skaggs

For the first time in my life, I become more comfortable with the word “God” as it relates to my own spirituality. I begin to see how science, psychology, and spirituality converge and interlock into a place of agreement and personal resonance. I call upon my knowledge, experience, and deepest emotions of these three facets of existence and delight in their meeting as I perceive them from my mind, heart, and soul.

Wednesday
I am finally able to release seven years of pain, anger, and fear, and I meet with my dad for lunch. I am able to show up fully present and with only love in my heart. I catch a glimpse of the connection we once shared and hope this is the beginning of rebuilding our relationship.

* * *

This post was written as I recalled the events leading up to Week 5.

Artist: Katherine Skaggs

I am deep into one of my “independent study” phases. Every so often, I am inspired to explore a topic, and I surround myself with books. I read and take notes, soaking up everything I can.

Observing myself from third-person when I get into one of these modes, I look like a grad student researching for a big paper, but from my perspective, it is pure pleasure. No deadline. No end-point or product to be created. The process itself nourishes me beyond measure.

During this particular “course” I dive into the words of Louise Hay, Cheryl Richardson, Esther and Jerry Hicks, Marianne Williamson, and Sonia Choquette. Also in the mix is a book about sustainable architecture.

As I read and listen to Louise Hay, the vibration of my life shifts. I find myself lighter and my gaze tilted skyward. I am also in the process of unburdening myself and allowing love and forgiveness to fill more of my consciousness.

* * *

This post was written as I recalled the events leading up to Week 5.