But here they are...at least the beginnings of the answers to the questions Dogwood Blue and all the rest of you Gentle Readers are just dying to know. ;-)
(Oh, and if you want me to interview you, check out the bottom of this post for more details!)
Dogwood Blue asked the intriguing question, what is your view on the value (or lack of) pain in childbirth? (I know you have five, and that you are a natural birth person like myself.)
Well, I could write a BOOK about this one. But I won't. Hey, I heard that sigh of relief from you over on the West Coast. Let's settle down, shall we?
Lessee...I had my first two babies in the hospital. Too chicken to jump right into the whole home birthin' thing. But let me tell ya, with my first child, I knew EVERYTHING about natural childbirth, so I was gonna have the next best thing to a home birth. I'd read all about the Bradley Method, had taken Lamaze classes, and had even taken a course on natural childbirth from a lay midwife. I knew how to make my own "laborade" and had been trained on how to sneak healthful snacks into the delivery room. I was S-O-O ready.
Here's what I didn't count on: an intern with a vengeance for us "natural birth" people. She was cruel, impatient, unkind and downright nasty. You don't want an internal fetal monitor? Fine. Sign this paper that releases me from your or your baby's death. Oh, poor baby. Are we having a contraction? Heh heh.
I gave in. After about thirty hours of labor, I begged for an epidural. What else could I do? I had little to no moral support, my husband just wanted to see me get some sort of comfort, and every doctor on the floor was in a hurry to get me out of their only PRIMO birthing suite (read: a hospital room with a dresser and a lamp). Customers are waiting, Lady! Let's pop this puppy out!
I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't turn over or stand. This might seem like a good thing, considering the condition I was in...until push came to--well, push. The whole design that God gave us with pain was meant to HELP us push that baby out. Take away the feelings, the pangs, the pushing urges, and it's like driving blind.
"Okay! Push when you feel like pushing!"
"Uh...when I...wha...?"
Lots of counterproductive work to get that baby out. I couldn not feel a THING down there. They could have cut off both of my legs at my butt and I wouldn't have known the difference. The epidural wore off just in time, though, for the Intern with a Vengeance to start stitching up her lovely cutwork.
Didn't help much, either, that the placenta wouldn't come. That heartless woman (and to this day, if I saw her, I'd scratch her eyes out) put her ENTIRE HAND inside of me and, I swear, she had razors attached to the ends of her fingers. She scraped out that placenta until I was bawling with pain.
"This is the natural birth you wanted, Honey," she sneered.
Second baby: Okee dokee. I've learned a few things now. I want THIS doctor, and I will NOT accept any substitutes. And NO female interns! Here is my birth plan. I will NOT deviate.
Ten days after my due date, the doc was all, "We gotta induce labor. This baby's gonna be huge." So in I went for more intervention. Prostaglandin gel, Oxytocin, and finally, Pitocin. Still, labor progressed slowly.
Even with that much intervention, everything sailed along fairly smoothly until the doc sauntered into the delivery room, and as my mother-in-law says, rocked back on his heels and said, "This is gonna be a big baby." Break out the episiotomy scissors. Pump in the demerol. Pray to God for strength.
The doc came in repeatedly and asked if I were ready to push. This time, with the moral support of my mother-in-law, I held on.
"She's not ready yet," she said. She could tell. She knew what birthing grunts sounded like, and I wasn't makin' 'em.
"Do you feel it yet?" She asked me.
"Feel what?" I asked.
"Didn't you have pushing urges with Bard?"
"Uh...what's that?"
"Like you feel like you really have to have a bowel movement. It's a grunting feeling..."
"Ow, ow, ow, ow. No. Didn't. Have. Those."
"You're not ready."
So I waited. Laid on my side and waited for my mother-in-law to tell the doctor when I was ready to have this baby.
And then, I felt it. That bearing down pain. But it wasn't a pain. It was an urge, a compulsion. I didn't just feel like I could push, I felt like I WANTED to push. Like I NEEDED to push.
That was productive pain, let me tell you. It was the kind of thing that made me feel like a woman. Towanda! It helped me to realize that my body was MADE for this.
But then...oh, what's THIS? Whaddya mean there's not enough room? Whaddya mean you have to make more room? What the...?
And then came the episiotomy. That was an unkind cut. Not the kind of pain I wanted at all. And, if you've ever had an episiotomy, you know that it's the kind of pain that lingers. Ouch.
And then came the arrogant, rocking-on-his-heels doctor, sewing up his lovely cutwork. "We'll do this up right," he snickered. "This is what I call The Husband Stitch. Heh heh."
And then came the jaundice. "Oh, that's normal with Pitocin and Demerol babies. They have a hard time getting that stuff out of their little livers. We'll just take him down to the bili lights and feed him some sugar water. You get your rest, Deary."
And so, with the courage and insights that I gained from those two experiences, I decided to have the next baby, Monet, at home with the assistance of my mother-in-law and a lay midwife. Aside from family tensions, this birth was so awesome. And even with those family tensions, it was so, so much better than either of my hospital births. It was a lot of work, to be sure. My body had to recover from those traumatic hospital experiences where some other chemical or mechanical substitute tried to do my body's job. And I was scared to DEATH of another episiotomy.
But there was none. There was no cutting, no scraping, no Husband Stitch, and no arrogant doctor rocking back on his heels and tsking at me.
There was stretching and moaning and bearing down and pushing. There was more stretching, and more stretching and MORE stretching. There was a nine-pound baby. But no tearing. Not even with the nasty scar tissue from the TWO previous slices!
There were no bili lights or sugar bottles or maternity nurses telling me that I'd nursed too long or that I'd roll over on my baby if I kept him in bed with me.
There was relief and rest and relaxation. There was cuddling and nursing and spooning with my husband and our beautiful son. There were homecooked meals, chinese food, visits from friends and family. And there was triumph.
Monet's birth brought me to life. In his journal, I wrote:
Your birth-day was an unleashing of joy and creativity in my life. I thinkI had no doubt in my mind that I would, from then on, allow my body the
that perhaps you possess a great amount of creativity and, as you emerged,
you released a bit and allowed me to retain it.
complete and total saturation of pain that it took to bring forth a child into
this world.
My last three babies were born and home. And my next three, God willing, will be born at home, too.
A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but
whenher baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child
is born into the world. ~John 16:21
Did I say I wouldn't write a book? Sorry, West Coast.
Speaking of books...
(2) What are five or ten of your all time favorite books?
Oh, heavens. Okay. Lemme think.
When I was a child, I listened to A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. I listened over and over and over at night. It was recorded on a big record which I renewed from the library as many times as they would allow. I love that book.
Peace Like a River by Leif Enger. Awesome book. Written by a fellow homeschooler.
Ladder of Years by Anne Tyler. Did you know she was homeschooled? It's true! I related to this book a bit too much. Love Anne Tyler's clean, conversational writing style.
The Family Cloister by David Robinson. A very inspiring book on entering into worship and prayer as a family.
No Wonder They Call Him the Savior by Max Lucado. I love his writing style, too. Very simple yet powerful.
How to Write Your Own Low-Cost/No-Cost Curriculum by Borg Hendrickson. Awesome book on setting your goals for your child's educational future. Very adaptable.
Oh, and another set of childhood favorites: The Black Stallion series. I devoured those things. Thinking back on any of my assigned reading during that time, I can only remember The Black Stallion, which was a book I chose from the library myself.
And finally, The Secret in Miranda's Closet. Does anyone remember this book? It was very magical to me as a pre-teen.
The next three:
(3) What are one or some of the most difficult trials you have overcome
thus far?
(4) What do you look forward to most in the future?
(5) How did God lead you to be a part of the particular church you attend?
...I'll have to save for later. They're gonna require some sweatin' of blood. Did you say this was supposed to be fun? ;-) Nah, really. It is.
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Okay, so, do you want me to interview you? If so, just let me know and we'll follow the precedure below. Let's have fun!
Here are your instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying “interview me.”
2. I will respond by asking you five questions.
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions. (Write your own questions or borrow some :o)
I'm looking forward to interviewing YOU!
