lydia : an urban crunchy mama

It’s been a challenging road since I last posted. I can’t even begin to describe the full range of emotions and sensations I’ve experienced in a cohesive and coherent way. Part of me wants to document some of what has come up in the last twelve days for posterity’s sake, and part of me wants to remain very much in the present so my momentum isn’t mired in the past. So prepare yourself for a very scattered sharing of where I’ve been and where I am.

– Taylor caught a bug at school, which developed into her very first ear infection, and the girl is still not yet fully recovered. Her night wakings deprived my body of even more sleep, and despite my best efforts to rest whenever I can, I am physically exhausted. Depleted. Toast.

– I experienced a second night of early labor, exactly one week after the first night of early labor. This time my Braxton Hicks contractions came every 2-4 minutes instead of every 2-6 minutes, and as I sat on the toilet, I had flashbacks of Taylor’s labor. With the thought that things might rev up, I asked Jim to inflate the birth tub. By morning, however, we learned that there was actually no need to set it up.

– On Thursday, we met with Maria and discussed next-steps. That conversation sent me into a tailspin of emotions. The thought of setting foot on a labor and delivery floor for a Non-Stress Test and an Amniotic Fluid Index threw me straight into trauma mode. Sheer panic, grief, and fear invaded every cell of my being, and as I sit here three days later, I can’t say that I’ve shaken it all out of my system. The wounds are deep. The scars are almost six years old. But all still so fresh.

– Since I’ve been in and out of early labor for almost two weeks now, I’ve kept very much to myself. Just as with any laboring animal, my instinct is to stay inward and cocooned in safety and intimacy. I’ve shared only with an intimate few how difficult this has been for me.

After some Puerto Rican take-out and showers last night, Jim boiled pots of water on the stove, and then as he lit a circle of candles around our bedroom, he filled the birth tub with a long hose that extended from our bathroom sink. All three of us climbed in, and I was lovingly pampered by my family. Taylor poured cups of water down my back as I kneeled and leaned over the edge of the tub. Jim massaged my shoulders with coconut oil and tended to the acupressure points there.

Not quite ready to leave my aqua nest, I remained submerged as Jim and Taylor dried off. A natural doula, Taylor caressed my arms, head, and feet, asking what might feel most comfortable.

Jim got Taylor ready for bed and poured the remaining pots of water into the tub. I luxuriated in the water and candlelight until I felt called to step out. Jim and I rested into the quiet of our cocoon and took that rare moment to connect and embrace the stillness.

As I drifted off to sleep, affirmations formed effortlessly in my mind. When I thought “welcome baby” I sensed a slight discomfort as my sacrum expanded and the baby nudged downward. Each time I repeated these two words, my body responded in kind. Over and over again, this call and response continued until I surrendered to sleep.

With this coming Tuesday’s NST and AFI appointment at the hospital looming large, I vacillate between moments of peace and moments of utter frustration and dread. At the moment, the sun is pushing its way through layers of fog, and Taylor is patiently waiting for my attention.

I usually post on Tuesdays, the beginning of each gestational week, but when I sat down this past Tuesday I just wasn’t feeling it, so here I am on Thursday afternoon. There just isn’t going to be a Pregnancy: Week 38 post. Instead, I’m writing as I feel called to write, and today we’re at 39 2/7 weeks.

Tuesday
I woke up with an urge to clean the bathroom and start the laundry, something I usually don’t take on so early in the morning. After I dropped Taylor off at school, I joined other pregnant mamas at yoga. What is normally a bright, sun-drenched space was a hazy, dream-like cocoon. As I sat cross-legged on a bolster with the sound of rain clattering on the skylights above I wondered if the impending storm would encourage Baby to arrive.

That night I went to bed around 9:30 and woke up around 11 to pee. When I got back into bed, I noticed that I was having more Braxton Hicks contractions than usual. I laid there noticing them come and go, eventually timing them with the alarm clock. They came every 2-6 minutes for the next couple of hours, and when I became too tired to notice, I slept. These painless contractions came in clusters for the remainder of the night, and I slept in between the clusters.

Wednesday
When Jim awoke I asked him to stay with me at home for the morning to see if the contractions would pick up again. I figured the walk to and from Taylor’s school (especially the steep climb towards home) would give us more information to work with. Although the climb was a good workout, it did not encourage labor.

I saw my chiropractor later in the morning, and he shared how my pelvic alignment (which could affect the baby’s positioning and final descent) was optimal. Excellent. My craving for more Indian food brought me to a local eatery for lunch where I happily devoured an entire platter of spicy goodness. The rest of the afternoon and evening passed without much excitement.

Thursday
Somehow it was a lot easier to wait for Taylor’s arrival than this baby’s birth. We settled more peacefully into the unknown timing of it all, and this time we find ourselves actively waiting. After our prenatal appointment with Maria this morning I ate lunch at a restaurant I would normally reserve for a date night or out-of-town guests. As I admired the plates of food before me and shared them with my friends on Facebook, I decided I would savor the time I have for these lunch dates with my son. Rather than focus on not having (not birthing yet), I can choose to enjoy the abundance of the present (delicious meals prepared by skilled chefs). Where will we eat lunch tomorrow?

During the 37th week of pregnancy, Maria visits her clients in their homes.

• Maria, Taylor, Jim, and I took turns listening to the baby’s heartbeat with a fetoscope. In addition to talking about plans for the birth, I also administered my own Group-B Strep test. Maria gave me precise instructions; handed the swab kit over to me, and I sought out the privacy of our bathroom. This simple gesture speaks volumes for the kind of care she provides. Let’s compare this to standard obstetrical care for a moment. Under standard circumstances, my OB would tell me that it is the appropriate time in pregnancy to test for GBS, likely assuming that I will comply with this request without question. He or she would ask me to disrobe, put my feet in stirrups, and scoot my naked bottom down to the end of a table towards his/her waiting eyes and hands, where he/she would swab my vagina and rectum. That would be standard protocol, more or less. In Maria’s care, there are no assumptions. She brought the topic of GBS testing to my attention several weeks in advance so we could make a fully informed decision. Once we agreed that I would be tested, I administered the test myself because my provider perceives me as a trustworthy and capable individual. Once again, how refreshing!
• The final weeks of pregnancy bring new sensations. More Braxton Hicks contractions for sure. More lightning bolts in my vagina. In addition to zapping me without warning, they also come when the baby moves into certain positions. And on one particular morning, I felt a prolonged jolt lasting several moments with an additional bolt on top of it. Yowza! Sitting and standing during the day has become more uncomfortable because the weight of my lopsided belly pulls on my body, creating a patch of tingly numbness on the upper part of my abdomen and making my mid-back ache. This has been going on for weeks and weeks now, but it’s happening a lot more often, so to get some relief, I lie on my left side with a belly wedge to support the baby. (I have no idea why it’s so expensive on Amazon because I paid only ten bucks for it at a local store.) The wedge is great for nighttime too. I feel the baby super low in my pelvis, and I’m actually experiencing some pelvic sheering (where one of my pubic bones shifts in front of the other instead of staying on the same plane), which means I need to be extra mindful about how I move my body. Oh, and I almost forgot one more new sensation, menstrual-like cramps. Nothing regular or worthy of a phone call, but I’ve had a couple of them over the past few days. I don’t recall feeling crampy like this during my pregnancy with Taylor, so this is definitely new to me.
• Seeing as how the baby could safely be born any day now, I’d like to acknowlege the practitioners who are supporting me during this pregnancy. (Many of them hold credentials beyond the ones I mention here.)

Maria Iorillo: Licensed Midwife
As a skilled and even-keeled midwife who has caught over a thousand babies, we knew Maria was the midwife for us. 

Britt Fohrman: Prenatal Yoga Instructor & Birth Photographer
I attend Britt’s yoga class every week so we have an opportunity to get to know each other before this baby’s birth. She amazes me with her knowledge, compassion, and strength.

Hokhmah Joyallen: Friend, Mentor & Jin Shin Jyutsu Practitioner
Hokhmah and I first met when she facilitated our holistic childbirth preparation course during my pregnancy with Taylor, and she’s been midwifing me in many ways ever since.

Kari Marble: Prenatal Yoga Instructor
Kari and I met during my first trimester with Taylor, and she was the catalyst of my Awakening. I continue to be nourished by her yoga classes.

Craig Marble: Acupuncturist
I was scheduled to meet Craig for a treatment on what turned out to be Taylor’s birth day, but we didn’t actually meet until I wanted to become pregnant with this baby.

Colin Phipps: Chiropractor
Appreciating his down-to-earth demeanor and noticing signifcant improvements in Taylor’s health, I decided to see Colin for fertility and pregnancy support.

Liz Kalmanson: Psychotherapist
By far the most compassionate and skilled therapist I’ve worked with, Liz has supported me in deep levels of healing and shed new light on patterns and dynamics that play out in my life.

Bettina Roeper: Acupuncturist
Maria recommended Bettina for placenta encapsulation, and Bettina will personally pick up my placenta and deliver my capusles after I give birth.

Lindy Woodard: Pediatrician
As Taylor’s doctor, it’s only natural that Lindy become this baby’s doctor as well. Lindy and Maria are teaming up to keep a close eye on our baby’s health in days immediately after birth.

Carla De Martino: Massage Therapist
Carla has been easing my tight muscles for over ten years, seeing me through my single days, marriage, and now my second pregnancy.

Tekoa King: Certified Nurse Midwife
Tekoa is a midwife at our back-up hospital, and after our one and only meeting, she (to my pleasant surprise) declared me to be a perfect candidate for homebirth.

While the trappings of traditional baby showers often focus on the external and the material, blessingway ceremonies honor the internal and the ritual. Blessingways celebrate the most uniquely inherent quality of feminine life and embody all aspects of the Sacred Feminine.

Surrounded by the most intimate circle of women in her life in a physically, emotionally, and spiritually safe container, a pregnant woman’s most authentic self is welcomed and embraced. Decorations, talismans, and ceremonial objects are often items borrowed from nature. Guests work together in creating symbolic gifts, and the mother-to-be is adorned with body art. Enveloped in a womb of timelessness, all in attendance give and receive with the truest essence of who they are.

Outside observers of this ritual may characterize this ceremony as witch-like, and they would be absolutely correct. Witch, not in the negative light of modern times, but in an ancient sense — healer, knower, truth seeker, wise woman.

I bow in gratitude to the Sisters who lovingly held me on this most magical night.

* * * * *

I have also been honored to host blessingway ceremonies for others.

A 3 year-old supports her laboring mom as Mama births her fourth child.

• Britt, our birth photographer, came over early one evening to talk about our wants and needs for birth. Although she’s officially our photographer, we spent just about every minute of the two hours talking as if she was officially our doula. I love how she just “gets it”. What’s even more impressive is that she has yet to birth her own children. Seeing her knowledge of and passion for the process, I look forward to witnessing her journey when it is her time.
• It was my turn to be honored and appreciated at Women’s Circle this month. Words cannot even begin to adequately describe the experience. How rare it was for me to allow for such a deep level of receiving without any ego chatter to dismiss it or push it away. I appreciate the women in my life and all the ways we are nourished by our connection.
• I’ve been having issues with my cellphone for months, and one morning I woke up to my phone in an odd mode that I couldn’t get it out of. That was the last straw for me. I needed to choose a new phone and a new carrier (as I think it was more of a network issue than anything else) before the birth of this baby. I’ve been putting off the idea of having a smartphone for some time now. I just don’t want to be one of those people who unconsciously interacts with my phone when I could be connecting with the people (especially our kids) in my presence. After an arduous 90-minute visit to the store, I left with a new carrier, a new phone, and more features than I need. Now it’s up to me to use this thing mindfully.
• I gathered the final items for our birth kit, labeled them, and stored them in our bedroom closet. The next day, I washed every piece of cloth (clothes, diapers, wipes, burp cloths, blankets, and Moby Wrap) our son will touch in the first few weeks of his life. I also washed the infant car seat cover and accessories and re-organized our kitchen pantry. Whew!
• I swear this kid tries to jump out of my belly sometimes. There’s no doubt that he is active and strong. I also feel him a bit lower in my pelvis and have been experiencing more practice contractions (a.k.a. Braxton Hicks contractions) than I have up until now. I’m also getting, what I like to call, “lightning bolts in my vagina”. I experienced these zaps in the week leading up to Taylor’s birth. We’ll see when this little guy would like to make his debut, but, in the meantime, I’m letting him know that he probably needs a bit more time to cook.
• I received the most recent issue of Midwifery Today, and the featured topic is Second Stage (i.e. the stage when a woman’s cervix is fully dilated and pushes the baby(ies) out). I’m looking forward to devouring the stories and information, especially since I’ll be pushing at my own pace this time (without being confined to an awkward and inefficient position and without people telling me how hard, how long, and when to push). Hooray for healthy, physiological birth!

Artist: Katherine Skaggs
This Goddess brings cleansing, healing, and nourishment.

True Informed Consent
When birthing in a hospital setting, many of the common procedures performed during labor, birth, and the immediate postpartum period are unnecessary and may even contribute to complications and the need for medical interventions. In hopes of eliminating or at least decreasing unnecessary interventions, women may write a birth plan and/or hire a doula to clearly communicate their needs to hospital staff, but this is often an uphill battle.

Because we’re planning a homebirth and midwifery care is defined by supporting physiological birth (as opposed to medical birth), our energy can be channeled more productively. We don’t need to have an awkwardly tense conversation with our midwife about what we want and don’t want because she doesn’t impose any procedure upon us. Every test and every procedure is an automatic opportunity for open discussion and is discussed well in advance of the event itself. No pressure. No fear mongering. What a refreshing way to approach healthcare!

At our most recent prenatal visit, Maria asked us to consider whether or not we would like to administer Vitamin K, eyedrops, and a newborn blood screening. We also talked about the relevance of a Group B Strep test and possible solutions for a positive test. Again, many of these tests and procedures are performed without question under traditional obstetric care, and I am so grateful that we have chosen to partner with a care provider who invites our full participation in decision making.

Under the Belly Boulder Holder
The muscles along my mid-back are becoming unusually tight and uncomfortable, so my chiropractor suggested that I wear a maternity belt during long walks and while standing for extended periods of time. I wore the belt for the first time yesterday, and it does lift my belly enough to alleviate some of the stress on my back. Yea!

While on the topic of notable sensations, I’ll just jot down some other observations that I haven’t thought to mention before. This baby is more active than Taylor ever was. In addition to rolling and shifting, the baby kicks and jabs so forcefully that my belly jumps, and often he’ll push on opposite sides of my belly at the same time. With so much movement, it’s difficult to discern which of his body parts is doing what. It’s like I have an octopus growing inside!

Uncovering the Roots
Hokhmah invited me to reflect some more on the intense feelings of protectiveness I’ve been feeling around this baby’s birth and the immediate postpartum period, and together we uncovered the more concrete aspects of these feelings.

As I’ve mentioned before (and even before we conceived this child), I am determined to begin a breastfeeding relationship based on accurate information and a better understanding of what contributes to an ample milk supply. In short, this equates to being skin-to-skin with our baby, offering the breast without regard to clocks, and keeping environmental stimulation to an absolute minimum.

Along the lines of breastfeeding, Hokhmah reminded me that Taylor experienced jaundice in the early days due to her ethnicity and the incompatibility between my blood and Jim’s blood. These circumstances will be the same for all the children we conceive, and if the jaundice is not treated appropriately, our children could suffer from brain damage. In addition to vigilance and light therapy, the best way to help our baby pass the excess bilirubin out of his system is to ensure that my milk comes in as quickly and fully as possible.

Hokhmah also helped me to identify how this baby’s birth is so intimately related to our experiences and feelings around Taylor’s hospital stay — the separation, the misformation about breastfeeding, the interrupted access to me and my breasts, the interference from artificial nipples and formula. While it cannot be guaranteed, this baby’s birth is a tremendous opportunity for us to heal from Taylor’s birth.

In a Nutshell
What Oprah shared in the last episode of her show resonated deeply with me, as she encapsulated so eloquently what I have discovered to be true of life’s biggest lessons. I’m not one of those crazed, Oprah-obsessed fans, but I do think she really nailed it on that final day. You can read her exact words for yourself, but this is some of what, in paraphrases, resonated with me:

• It is conscious work to become more of ourselves.
• We are responsible for our own happiness and the energy we bring to ourselves. We cannot be saved or completed by anyone else.
• We all have a calling and a responsibility to live from the heart of ourselves, illuminating the world wherever we are.

On the heels of one of the worst night’s of sleep I’ve had in a long time, this is going to be a no-frills kinda post.

Taylor experienced many changes this past week. On Tuesday, she went to the dentist for a check-up, and all the hub-bub was a bit much for her. Can you say sensory overload? Thankfully, our dentist is a mother of three, and she was very gentle and compassionate about what Taylor was feeling in that moment. We also discovered that Taylor has three permanent teeth coming in and one wobbly tooth. Oh, is *that* why we’ve been noticing some changes in the alignment of her bottom teeth?

On Thursday, Taylor broke out in a rash, which we initially attributed to eczema. By Friday night, that rash covered most of her body, and we started looking into what it might be. On Saturday, Taylor was diagnosed with Scarlet Fever even though the only notable symptoms were the sandpaper-like rash and a very mild sore throat. 

Because we visited an after-hours clinic instead of her regular pediatrician, we left the doctor’s office with a prescription for antibiotics. Oh, how I wish this all could have happened on a weekday, so we could have consulted with her regular doctor (who is much more judicious about prescribing medication). For a child who has never taken so much as Tylenol or any other common childhood medication, it was painful for all three of us to administer those first couple of doses. The mere sight of the pink liquid sent Taylor into a gagging, crying, and screaming spell.

The very next morning, Jim took the liquid back to the pharmacy and traded them in for chewable tablets, and another struggle over the medication ensued. It was an extremely difficult situation for all of us. All the encouraging, convincing, and coaching only escalated the stress. In the end, what worked was giving Taylor space; validating and reflecting her feelings back to her; and allowing her to find a way to a solution. She opted to suck on the tablets until they melted in her mouth. I would think this method of consuming them would be the worst of all possible solutions in terms of taste, but this is what made her feel comfortable enough to take the medication. Her two favorite chasers are gluten-free chocolate animal crackers and pieces of dark chocolate. Now that she’s more comfortable with the twice-a-day routine, she alternates between chewing on pieces of tablets and pieces of chocolatly goodness.

* * *

In an earlier post, I mentioned my desire to take a CPR class. As someone who births quickly, I figure it’s a good skill to have, and after I watched the video of Rixa birthing her third child, I knew it was something we absolutely had to follow-through on. Jim and I discovered first-hand how CPR protocols have been significantly revamped in recent months, so I would encourage everyone to learn more about these potentially life-saving steps.

* * *

We were scheduled to see Maria on Thursday afternoon, but she was called away to attend a birth earlier that morning. Although this last-minute cancellation can be perceived as inconvenient, it is a nearly insignificant inconvenience I will gladly accept if it means I receive individualized care based on partnership and trust, hour-long prenatal appointments, and at-home visits before after the baby is born.

* * *

My pelvis is on the move. I feel my body making way for the baby to come down. While some women feel pelvic discomfort ’round the clock, I only feel it occasionally. And thankfully, I’ve done enough prenatal yoga to know what alleviates and what aggravates the discomfort. One-legged activities (i.e. getting in and out of the car, putting pants on, etc.) need to modified so that weight is equally distributed on both sides of my body.

 
Artist: Katherine Skaggs

This week brought the sudden urge to gather remaining items on my list — a cloth diaper sprayer, disposable diapers and wipes (for the sticky meconium the baby will pass in his early days after birth), lanolin (just in case my nipples become irritated as they adjust to nursing again), a new pillow cover for my nursing pillow, cloth wipes, and birth kit items we will need for the actual birth (e.g. bulb syringe, sterile gloves, cord clamps, foot basin, painting tarp, etc.).

. . . . .
In a sudden and profound moment of clarity, I identified and put words to my deep appreciation for Jim and his willingness to expand his awareness — the ways he chooses to examine conditioned ways of thinking and being and to live from a more centered an authentic place. I see how he has chosen to stretch and grow, inviting healing for himself, our family, and the generations to come. I stand in gratitude for my partner.

. . . . .
I’ve learned that in the last trimester of pregnancy, feelings and concerns which lay just below the surface often rise prominently to the top. In my pregnancy with Taylor, I acknowledged the nagging feeling that my doctors, midwife, and hospital would not meet me in ways to support a normal, physiological (as opposed to medical) birth. I switched providers and hospitals in hopes of receiving the support I needed.

As I near this baby’s birth, previously identified (although insufficiently settled) concerns reveal themselves to me, invading my thoughts and even reverberating through my nervous system. I return to fears around feeling safely contained during the birth and in the weeks immediately after the birth.

As I explore the why’s behind the fears, I see how my current feelings bump up against feelings of trauma and intrusion during and after Taylor’s birth. With Jim and my doula holding the space for me at home, labor was calm and peaceful. The support and safety they provided allowed me to fully surrender to what my body needed, and I was able to open smoothly and easily.

The feelings of serenity and trust came to an abrupt halt when I walked on to the labor and delivery floor of the hospital. The energy was frantic. Rather than receiving me for the individual I was, the well-meaning hospital staff set into motion lists of protocols. Their fears prompted one obstacle after another, and they continued until we were discharged.

And rather than rest into a preciously quiet and sacred space as a new family immediately after Taylor was born, we were pulled and allowed ourselves to be pulled out of that moment by unnecessary distractions. I did not possess the awareness to acknowledge and protect that space for us to be fully present with our new child. What we could have held as a sacred bubble was squandered, and I am acutely aware of that now.

I want and need that time for us to transition from a family of three to a family of four. We will always have the opportunity to expand our attention outwardly, and, once we open ourselves to the world outside of our home, there will never be a way to contract it and re-capture what might have been lost.

. . . . .
Jim and I attended a parent-teacher conference last night, and after discussing the detailed narrative report that five teachers contributed to, I feel even more sure about the way we choose to parent Taylor. She excels academically; is confident, articulate, and curious; and sees experiments and projects through to completion. But that’s not what stood out most to me. 

We heard about how Taylor acts as an ambassador, one who unifies social groups within the classroom and is adept at problem-solving and peaceful conflict resolution. She knows how to incorporate someone else’s needs and ideas into a plan and possesses the maturity to empathize with others. I now stand even more firmly behind encouraging children to advocate for themselves and others and giving them tools to navigate unique situations as they arise. I have no interest in raising children who are merely compliant and pleasing. I want to nurture and celebrate the fullness of who they are (even if I may experience growing pains in the process).

• I was browsing through the tall bookshelf at Maria’s office for something to read while on our Mother’s Day getaway weekend at the beach, and Maria suggested Childbirth Wisdom From the World’s Oldest Societies. It’s exactly the kind of birth book I need right now, one that affirms the normalcy of childbirth and the inherent wisdom in every woman’s body.
• Immediately after Taylor was born, one of the nurses at the hospital asked if I wanted to keep the placenta. It wasn’t part of their official protocol, but they were willing to “look the other way” if it was my wish to take it home. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but the gesture did make sense, I suppose. Only an urban crunchy mama would arrive at the hospital fully dilated and refuse all medication, right? Since then, I’ve learned about the potential healing properties of consuming placenta. My friend, Katia, saved her placentas. If I’m remembering correctly, she ate a piece of it after her husband fried it up in a pan like a steak. And a couple of years later, she consumed a raw piece of her placenta in a smoothie after the birth of her second daughter. Katia is one among many placenta-consuming-women who report improved physical and emotional wellness. Since I don’t want to risk my placenta going to waste in the fridge or getting freezer burn in the bleary-eyed weeks immediately postpartum, I’m going to hire someone to dehydrate and encapsulate my placenta for me. I asked Maria for a referral at our most recent prenatal visit, and she suggested a local acupuncturist. Gotta give that woman a call soon.
• I’ve been giving more thought to how (for most of us) our culture and upbringing often disconnect us from our bodies and our authentic selves — for example, how breastfeeding mothers are often banished to restrooms or asked to cover up while nursing their children because it is perceived as indecent; how the processes of pregnancy and childbirth are intellectually separated from passion and sexuality (even by birth professionals!); how children receive messages that their bodies and body parts are dirty, naughty, and shameful; how the media flaunts sexually charged imagery through fantasy yet edits/blurs footage of real-life situations that show nipples and genitals. The list goes on, but I am intrigued by how, on one hand, aspects of being authentically human are sexualized, and, on the other hand, how our culture strips the sexuality out of contexts that are inherently sexual in nature. While in yoga today, I thought about the experiences in my life that have helped reconnect me to my body and my authentic self. This process of attunement came through dance, sports, and, more recently, yoga, pregnancy, childbirth, and breastfeeding, which essentially equates to a lifetime of unlearning and learning anew. I hope that, through modeling and honest discussion, my children maintain and celebrate their inherent beauty and strength (and have very little unlearning to do).

• When I discovered this beautiful homebirth video on my friend’s Facebook wall, I took special note of the children’s book (above) pictured within it and immediately ordered a copy. I appreciate how subject matter can be normalized through children’s literature, and I like how the family kinda looks like us.
• Sleep disturbances due to physical discomfort continue. The baby prefers lying on the right side of my uterus, and this pronounced and consistent asymmetry strains my muscles, pulling and causing tightness in other parts of my body. My chiropractor suggests doing inversions (picture Downward-Facing Dog pose with my knees on an ottoman instead of the floor) everyday to encourage the baby to move into a more optimal position. I’m also wondering whether some Maya Abdominal Massage might help. On one hand, I could use the extra help. On the other hand, I’m already receiving so much support from various practitioners, and the cost adds up quickly.
• My grandmother expressed her concern about me laboring and birthing in water again. She asked me not to go through with my plans and shared that thinking about this has been keeping her awake at night. I told her very frankly that she’s not the one giving birth; I am. And if this conversation is going to be brought up over and over, I feel less inclined to visit her. She replied by saying that I’m her grand-daughter and she’s worried about my well-being. To which I said that I understood, but it’s my decision to make. I reiterated my commitment to making conscious and thoughtful decisions and left it at that. Simply put, it would not be productive for me to take on any of her fear.
• I substituted for a teacher in Taylor’s classroom during an eight-hour shift, and, after spending the day with other people’s children, I left with a more profound appreciation for my own daughter. Consumed by fatigue, I showered; ate dinner; and got into bed. Taylor tucked me in with a kiss on the lips and settled in next to me for the night.
• In our Women’s Circle, we’ve been taking turns appreciating each other and each woman’s individual journey during this ten-month cycle. It is pretty much unheard of in our culture to honor the people in our lives in such a sacred and nakedly honest way, but, as Thais put it, it has also felt so normal and natural. It’s my turn next month, and I hope I allow myself the open-heartedness to receive their love fully.