This is a re-post from Rixa's blog...
"My whole heart is in that incubator"
The Motherwear Breastfeeding blog recently featured a fantastic guest post by a woman whose son was born 3 months early and weighed less than 3 pounds. She writes about how breastfeeding was her and her son's lifeline. Here is an excerpt from her post, My whole heart is in that incubator:
I was 37 years old. I thought I knew what love was. I thought I knew. But I have never loved anyone, anything, so fiercely, so terribly, so wonderfully, so achingly, as I did my little son, my only child, struggling in that incubator....
I loved and still love that boy with all I have. Because I couldn't hold him much, and felt terrible guilt for not being able to 'hold him in' for the entire 9 months he deserved, I was determined to breastfeed. I pumped every 3 hours for weeks on end. That pump and the milk that came out of me was my lifeline. It was somehow the way I was going to make it up to him for giving him such a lousy start in this world. So when I read stuff like "The Case against Breastfeeding" I get so angry. I believe that my breastmilk, and the good care we got at BC Children's, saved my child's life. It saved my life. If there is anything in this crazy, crazy world that is really is a gift from God it is the babies we can create and the milk that comes from our bodies.
If anything is pure and natural, and real and true, it's breastmilk. It made me feel like a mother when my baby was all alone inside a machine when he should have been inside me.
Anyone who dismisses breastfeeding so casually, or by their attitude or indifference creates an environment that doesn't hold up and encourage and cheerlead a new mom into a successful breastfeeding relationship, has lost touch with something. They've lost touch with a sense of what it means to be a mother, what feeding a baby is all about, what it means to nurture, how significant that breastfeeding can be to both mother and child.
It wasn't my intention to upset anyone with this post.
When I read this woman's full story on the Motherwear blog, I was moved. I was moved and reminded so strongly of how I felt when my milk came in after Birdie died. My breasts were swollen,leaking and overflowing with milk. Despite best efforts to stop it, the very milk that was intended to nourish her newborn body came forth. So, in some ways I can relate to the passion that this woman had to breastfeed her very tiny infant. She could see her child's life hanging in the balance, and she was lucky enough to be able to pump her milk for her baby. By re-posting this, I was not intending to speak as if breastfeeding always is able to work for everyone, I know of Mama's who have struggled very hard to make it work, and I love and respect them for this.
I can only speak for myself, and my breastfeeding experience. That said, I have been blessed and fortunate in my breastfeeding experience thus far. Breastfeeding has been a gift for me to be able to nurture my miracle baby in this way. Of course this is only one of many ways to love and nurture my son. Breastfeeding is a source of comfort and healing, it is a second chance, to nourish and grow this child in the way I would have with Birdie. For me and my babe, it is a connecting experience, and I feel that it brings us closer together, skin to skin and heart to heart.
Again, I am speaking only for myself and from my experience as a breastfeeding mother. I can speak for knowone but myself.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Giving Birth On The Fa.rm
I know that I mentioned in my last post that I have much to report. Before I do that, there is something that I have to write about, as it has been so heavy on my mind.
Last week I was blessed to attend the Par.tner.s In Per.i.natal Conference with my dear friend Carol. We were there attending as a SHARE exhibitor representing our local group "Empty Arms". We were there with lots of information to give, support and listening ears. The response to our presence there was tremendous! Some folks had heard of SHARE some had not, and perhaps for some they had never even heard of stillbirth...or maybe they had only ever heard stories of stillbirth happening in hospital.
I considered that there might be a strong presence of the home.birthing community there, and as it turned out I was right. It's kind of hard to describe how this made me feel (disgusted/pissed off/bitchy/jealous). It was obvious though, after over hearing numerous conversations that these people were absolutely oblivious and naive to anything bad happening during the attempt of a home.birth. To those folks I wanted to scream out loud! (after all my pregnancy had been so perfect, I was a perfect candidate for a home.birth)
For those who have NEVER heard of anything bad happening when it comes to home.birth, lend me your ear, let me tell you a story...it's a long tragic, awful, nightmare of a story. Would you like to hear it?
This conference featured a very well known speaker/advocate (of the home.birthing community), can you take a guess who "she" was? That's a big hint my friend! Well, it was none other than, drum roll please.........In.a M.ay!
I felt pretty sure that I knew just what her speech/talk would be about. Of course home.birth, natural childbirth, and how bad hospitals are for babies and moms. I sat there with my ears open and my eyes glued to her as she spoke passionately but also ignorantly. I could feel my body seizing, and my eyes welling up as she ranted about the ease to give birth that so many woman had found on "The F.arm". Then there was a story that she told of a woman who's labor had been difficult and long:
Here is an excerpt from Carol's blog...as she re-counts the story so well:
"So the story goes like this, she relays it, it is early in the life of her delivering babies, and a mother comes to her with a long and difficult labor, and the baby eventually emerges with the cord wrapped tightly three times around its neck, blue. While efforts are being made to resuscitate the baby, the mother begins to hemorrhage. Ultimately, the baby is resuscitated and the mother's bleeding slows down to a normal rate. Ina explains that everything did end up fine, because she knew what to do. Our friend Ina, in recalling the story, asks, "Who writes this stuff?" Like as if it's just this kind of cool war story to tell, with a happy ending that had nothing to do with really unbelievable timing and luck."
As you might imagine, this story pissed me off. It pissed me off because, well it could have VERY EASILY have been a VERY DIFFERENT outcome. I don't give a flying (excuse me) FUCK if you think that you know what to do. How about the babies cord was wrapped 3 times around the babies neck, AND the cord at some point during that long and difficult labor was compressed...and SHE HAD NO WAY OF KNOWING? That baby would not have survived that labor, then what? Would she be telling everyone in the world how wonderful and "safe" home.birth is then? Remember, when things start to go very wrong during labor, they start to go VERY, VERY wrong VERY, VERY fast. My dead baby, my daughter is proof of this fact.
I am very concerned and skeptical about the truth behind that statistics that she brought to brag about. She did not even mention a hint of fetal loss, and as Carol reminded me, those statistics are 1/100 births. Thousands of births have taken place on The F.arm, so you know that there has been fetal loss. There has to have been, The F.arm is not spared from such tragedy simply because it puts out such a pristine reputation. Why are the losses there not spoken about? Do they not want to scare the home.birthing community as a whole?
Did you know that I.na M.ay herself had a stillborn child? Did you know that she went into labor prematurely while traveling in the caravan on their way to Tennessee?
"It was common knowledge that I.na M.ay – one of Stephen’s two wives – was expecting a baby. The due date was sometime after our anticipated arrival in Tennessee and people were curious to see who would deliver since I.na M.ay had been the midwife for the babies born on the Caravan. But on our second day driving across Nebraska, we pulled off the road surprisingly early in North Platte, parking in a large lot in the early afternoon. This was not the kind of place the state troopers would have arranged for us. Word went around that Ina May had gone into premature labor. Anita was worried; it was way too early.
The next morning there was no routine drivers’ meeting. Instead, someone knocked on the door of our bus and somberly informed us that I.na M.ay’s baby had been stillborn and would be buried there in North Platte after all the legal paperwork had been taken care of. The Caravan would stay put until after that, then would beeline south into Kansas.
We were stunned. Somehow, the good karma of Stephen’s family and the Caravan seemed to have failed. I understood little to nothing about the magic held by the group – I’d naively believed there was such magic and that it would protect us from this kind of tragedy. The death of a newborn was so far beyond my experience and comprehension that I half expected the Caravan to disband or at least regroup under a new mission. But as we gathered with others who’d been with Stephen since the early days of the Class, we found more grounded perspectives.
This was simply the way life was. Death was a certainty for all of us. It came way early for I.na M.ay’s child, but it wasn’t an issue of fairness or deserving or bad magic. It just was. Grief was an inescapable part of life and we would move on. If anyone would understand this, it would be Stephen’s family. We couldn't’ allow ourselves slip too far out into sadness for the loss of one infant because there was so much life still left in the rest of us. Our lesson should be to love and support one another even more, especially the few children who were traveling with us."
The whole post that I excerpted from can be found HERE.
I can't believe that I found this, I mean the irony that I have been experiencing surrounding my "meeting" this woman (will tell you about this in another post) is beginning to really disturb me.
I feel so sad for her baby. Maybe, just maybe her pre-mature labor could have been stopped if she had gone into a hospital? Maybe that baby would not have made a still entrance into this world. I also feel so sad that the caravan just kept on going, literally and emotionally. I have to wonder, did I.na M.ay? Did she allow herself the space to grieve her loss? My hope is that she did, that she allowed herself the space to do so, even if she had to hide it from the others in the caravan.
I also feel that I need to be careful not to judge her about her loss, I want to respect the memory of her child. However, why wouldn't a pregnant mother who has gone into labor too early go to a hospital? Yes, they were on the road, but they had state troopers following and leading them on their way, so perhaps a distress call could have been made? Couldn't something have been done to rush her to a hospital to try to save her baby?
Still, there she was going on and on about all the intense, primal, beautiful and perfect births that take place on the farm. There wasn't even a whisper of fetal death, only the mention of maternal death, because the death of a mother who has given birth is so much easier to digest? WTF?
I feel deeply disturbed and sickened by all of this.
More to come when I can collect my thoughts.
I know that I mentioned in my last post that I have much to report. Before I do that, there is something that I have to write about, as it has been so heavy on my mind.
Last week I was blessed to attend the Par.tner.s In Per.i.natal Conference with my dear friend Carol. We were there attending as a SHARE exhibitor representing our local group "Empty Arms". We were there with lots of information to give, support and listening ears. The response to our presence there was tremendous! Some folks had heard of SHARE some had not, and perhaps for some they had never even heard of stillbirth...or maybe they had only ever heard stories of stillbirth happening in hospital.
I considered that there might be a strong presence of the home.birthing community there, and as it turned out I was right. It's kind of hard to describe how this made me feel (disgusted/pissed off/bitchy/jealous). It was obvious though, after over hearing numerous conversations that these people were absolutely oblivious and naive to anything bad happening during the attempt of a home.birth. To those folks I wanted to scream out loud! (after all my pregnancy had been so perfect, I was a perfect candidate for a home.birth)
For those who have NEVER heard of anything bad happening when it comes to home.birth, lend me your ear, let me tell you a story...it's a long tragic, awful, nightmare of a story. Would you like to hear it?
This conference featured a very well known speaker/advocate (of the home.birthing community), can you take a guess who "she" was? That's a big hint my friend! Well, it was none other than, drum roll please.........In.a M.ay!
I felt pretty sure that I knew just what her speech/talk would be about. Of course home.birth, natural childbirth, and how bad hospitals are for babies and moms. I sat there with my ears open and my eyes glued to her as she spoke passionately but also ignorantly. I could feel my body seizing, and my eyes welling up as she ranted about the ease to give birth that so many woman had found on "The F.arm". Then there was a story that she told of a woman who's labor had been difficult and long:
Here is an excerpt from Carol's blog...as she re-counts the story so well:
"So the story goes like this, she relays it, it is early in the life of her delivering babies, and a mother comes to her with a long and difficult labor, and the baby eventually emerges with the cord wrapped tightly three times around its neck, blue. While efforts are being made to resuscitate the baby, the mother begins to hemorrhage. Ultimately, the baby is resuscitated and the mother's bleeding slows down to a normal rate. Ina explains that everything did end up fine, because she knew what to do. Our friend Ina, in recalling the story, asks, "Who writes this stuff?" Like as if it's just this kind of cool war story to tell, with a happy ending that had nothing to do with really unbelievable timing and luck."
As you might imagine, this story pissed me off. It pissed me off because, well it could have VERY EASILY have been a VERY DIFFERENT outcome. I don't give a flying (excuse me) FUCK if you think that you know what to do. How about the babies cord was wrapped 3 times around the babies neck, AND the cord at some point during that long and difficult labor was compressed...and SHE HAD NO WAY OF KNOWING? That baby would not have survived that labor, then what? Would she be telling everyone in the world how wonderful and "safe" home.birth is then? Remember, when things start to go very wrong during labor, they start to go VERY, VERY wrong VERY, VERY fast. My dead baby, my daughter is proof of this fact.
I am very concerned and skeptical about the truth behind that statistics that she brought to brag about. She did not even mention a hint of fetal loss, and as Carol reminded me, those statistics are 1/100 births. Thousands of births have taken place on The F.arm, so you know that there has been fetal loss. There has to have been, The F.arm is not spared from such tragedy simply because it puts out such a pristine reputation. Why are the losses there not spoken about? Do they not want to scare the home.birthing community as a whole?
Did you know that I.na M.ay herself had a stillborn child? Did you know that she went into labor prematurely while traveling in the caravan on their way to Tennessee?
"It was common knowledge that I.na M.ay – one of Stephen’s two wives – was expecting a baby. The due date was sometime after our anticipated arrival in Tennessee and people were curious to see who would deliver since I.na M.ay had been the midwife for the babies born on the Caravan. But on our second day driving across Nebraska, we pulled off the road surprisingly early in North Platte, parking in a large lot in the early afternoon. This was not the kind of place the state troopers would have arranged for us. Word went around that Ina May had gone into premature labor. Anita was worried; it was way too early.
The next morning there was no routine drivers’ meeting. Instead, someone knocked on the door of our bus and somberly informed us that I.na M.ay’s baby had been stillborn and would be buried there in North Platte after all the legal paperwork had been taken care of. The Caravan would stay put until after that, then would beeline south into Kansas.
We were stunned. Somehow, the good karma of Stephen’s family and the Caravan seemed to have failed. I understood little to nothing about the magic held by the group – I’d naively believed there was such magic and that it would protect us from this kind of tragedy. The death of a newborn was so far beyond my experience and comprehension that I half expected the Caravan to disband or at least regroup under a new mission. But as we gathered with others who’d been with Stephen since the early days of the Class, we found more grounded perspectives.
This was simply the way life was. Death was a certainty for all of us. It came way early for I.na M.ay’s child, but it wasn’t an issue of fairness or deserving or bad magic. It just was. Grief was an inescapable part of life and we would move on. If anyone would understand this, it would be Stephen’s family. We couldn't’ allow ourselves slip too far out into sadness for the loss of one infant because there was so much life still left in the rest of us. Our lesson should be to love and support one another even more, especially the few children who were traveling with us."
The whole post that I excerpted from can be found HERE.
I can't believe that I found this, I mean the irony that I have been experiencing surrounding my "meeting" this woman (will tell you about this in another post) is beginning to really disturb me.
I feel so sad for her baby. Maybe, just maybe her pre-mature labor could have been stopped if she had gone into a hospital? Maybe that baby would not have made a still entrance into this world. I also feel so sad that the caravan just kept on going, literally and emotionally. I have to wonder, did I.na M.ay? Did she allow herself the space to grieve her loss? My hope is that she did, that she allowed herself the space to do so, even if she had to hide it from the others in the caravan.
I also feel that I need to be careful not to judge her about her loss, I want to respect the memory of her child. However, why wouldn't a pregnant mother who has gone into labor too early go to a hospital? Yes, they were on the road, but they had state troopers following and leading them on their way, so perhaps a distress call could have been made? Couldn't something have been done to rush her to a hospital to try to save her baby?
Still, there she was going on and on about all the intense, primal, beautiful and perfect births that take place on the farm. There wasn't even a whisper of fetal death, only the mention of maternal death, because the death of a mother who has given birth is so much easier to digest? WTF?
I feel deeply disturbed and sickened by all of this.
More to come when I can collect my thoughts.
Friday, May 22, 2009
33 Weeks Old
My boy is over 7 1/2 months old! HOLY SHIT!
I have lot's to report to you...but I can't type too much just now. Lot's of exciting news, and lots and lots more photos to share. Perhaps this weekend I can post some up. For now some photos of Holdyn and I from this morning.
And a few more from a few days ago...because they are so adorable.
My boy is over 7 1/2 months old! HOLY SHIT!
I have lot's to report to you...but I can't type too much just now. Lot's of exciting news, and lots and lots more photos to share. Perhaps this weekend I can post some up. For now some photos of Holdyn and I from this morning.
And a few more from a few days ago...because they are so adorable.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Last night I was catching up on my blog reading and I was brought to tears by my dear friend Carol's latest post. She is able to articulate so purely her deepest love for all her children, and how missing her eldest daughter, her dear Charlotte informs her every moment with her living children.
She has written this so openly and beautifully, and I felt compelled to re-post it here. I feel that as a fellow lost mama who is now blessed to raise my child alongside hers, she speaks volumes to what I also hold most dear, allowing our children to blossom in their own ways, at their own pace, to honor them as they grow. Not to look down upon them for skills they might lack, but to help them to feel inspired to reach ever higher. To guide and love them unconditionally, no matter who they are or what they do.
Anyway, here is her post re-posted:
+2....
The lift is on, the sun is creeping above the horizon as the day has passed and somehow, although six years ago I could not lift my head above my shoulders, the light is returning.
But even with the release of the anticipation, the agony of knowing that she could have been saved over, I still retain the grumpiness of May-- the critical eye that seeks not to place myself above others, but to feel affronted by much that I see and hear around me.
Sometimes I find it hard to be around other mothers in May. Quite hard. Now, let it be said, to each his or her own, and this I do believe, truly and wholly. Of course I take exception to extremes that might constitute abuse, but I truly do believe that parent-child relationships seek a balance, and while there are certain practices that I believe are in the best interest of a child, I also respect that those same practices might lead certain parents to not be the optimal parents for their child, and so compromise is justified and called for.
But in May, I just hear it all around me. I hear people chastising their children. I hear impatience. I hear parents who sound, from a listening ear, as if they'd really rather not be parenting. (I realize this is not actually the case). I find myself in situations where I want to yell and scream and grab a child and take her with me, when a parent is scolding her child for not being good enough at something, instead of encouraging her for what she's doing right. I want to grab the child, hug her tight, and tell her it sometimes takes kids a long time to learn new things. To tell her to keep trying, that she's doing such a great job and I'm proud of her, even if her mom isn't at that moment. I see babies crying while their mothers talk on cellphones on the park paths. I hear complaints about children who are too loud and too slow and, for all intents and purposes, acting exactly as children should (which is different from how adults act and therefore annoying)
I hear these things, and instead of just walking past, or laughing along at the complaint and offering my own version of the story, I feel sick to my stomach. I want to take all these children home with me and appreciate all of them for exactly who they are. I want to hug them when they cry, and let them walk as slowly as they want to, and let them learn new skills at their own pace without being told they obviously aren't good at it. I want to take them to my home and feed them homemade cookies we have made together, while getting messy and dirty and spilling ingredients without reprimand, and wrap them in cozy blankets and read to them and kiss their soft cheeks and give them nothing but goodness, nothing but sweetness and love and whatever it is that I can offer to them because they are alive, their hearts are beating and they are breathing and they deserve a chance to be the best to someone.
This, all this, even though sometimes my own grief, and shadow grief six times over, pulls me to the point of impatience with my own brood, makes me wilt and cry and handle situations less than skillfully, and causes me to question my own worth as a parent.
But my misgivings about myself are in the moment, are gut reactions to one specific moment or behavior, I never question the worth of my child. If my words caused her to sit down quietly and hang her head, defeated, I would feel by crushed my actions. Children are miraculous, no more, no less. They are absolutely amazing. To think of the physical and cognitive skills that a child masters in five short years is staggering. Now think of the emotional skills they are capable of if only we allow it. How they can flourish and shine when we tell them not just that they are "good", but that they are worthy, and capable, and amazing. How they glow when they realize that we are truly proud for exactly what they are doing, which is learning and growing, and aren't just pleased by the successful perfection of a specific task.
So I think the long and the short of it is, that however one chooses to parent, it seems only fair that one should prioritize the self worth of one's child. This encompasses the simple, basic necessities of loving ones child, respecting ones child, and allowing him or her the individuality that we are all due. How one then chooses to go on and feed, or discipline, or whatever else goes into the daily ritual is off my radar. I just wish I could see people letting their children be children, like beautiful daisies growing in a summer field, each so beautiful in his or her own way. I wish more children could have a half-full glass, could have the benefit of the doubt, could be given something to grab onto to inspire them to reach to higher places.
And I wish this in part, of course, because my daisy was plucked much to soon, and never had a chance to dance to her own breeze, and develop her own strength of character. Her glass is empty. So couldn't those who are here fill up with some of what she lost?
_________________________
Someone commented to me the other day that May seemed much less heavy this year, that the posts here were much less dragging and sullen. Truth, yes, but it dismays me to think that through the nausea and exhaustion and incredible sense of purpose from a fundraising walk last weekend and a conference next week, that I was perhaps slightly distracted from it all, and we all know how effective it can be to shelve emotion for later (hem, hem). So perhaps there will be days upcoming which are heavier than those that have passed, and for those days I will be grateful.
It feels nicer for me to be sad than to be angry, but it is so much easier to feel angry.
She has written this so openly and beautifully, and I felt compelled to re-post it here. I feel that as a fellow lost mama who is now blessed to raise my child alongside hers, she speaks volumes to what I also hold most dear, allowing our children to blossom in their own ways, at their own pace, to honor them as they grow. Not to look down upon them for skills they might lack, but to help them to feel inspired to reach ever higher. To guide and love them unconditionally, no matter who they are or what they do.
Anyway, here is her post re-posted:
+2....
The lift is on, the sun is creeping above the horizon as the day has passed and somehow, although six years ago I could not lift my head above my shoulders, the light is returning.
But even with the release of the anticipation, the agony of knowing that she could have been saved over, I still retain the grumpiness of May-- the critical eye that seeks not to place myself above others, but to feel affronted by much that I see and hear around me.
Sometimes I find it hard to be around other mothers in May. Quite hard. Now, let it be said, to each his or her own, and this I do believe, truly and wholly. Of course I take exception to extremes that might constitute abuse, but I truly do believe that parent-child relationships seek a balance, and while there are certain practices that I believe are in the best interest of a child, I also respect that those same practices might lead certain parents to not be the optimal parents for their child, and so compromise is justified and called for.
But in May, I just hear it all around me. I hear people chastising their children. I hear impatience. I hear parents who sound, from a listening ear, as if they'd really rather not be parenting. (I realize this is not actually the case). I find myself in situations where I want to yell and scream and grab a child and take her with me, when a parent is scolding her child for not being good enough at something, instead of encouraging her for what she's doing right. I want to grab the child, hug her tight, and tell her it sometimes takes kids a long time to learn new things. To tell her to keep trying, that she's doing such a great job and I'm proud of her, even if her mom isn't at that moment. I see babies crying while their mothers talk on cellphones on the park paths. I hear complaints about children who are too loud and too slow and, for all intents and purposes, acting exactly as children should (which is different from how adults act and therefore annoying)
I hear these things, and instead of just walking past, or laughing along at the complaint and offering my own version of the story, I feel sick to my stomach. I want to take all these children home with me and appreciate all of them for exactly who they are. I want to hug them when they cry, and let them walk as slowly as they want to, and let them learn new skills at their own pace without being told they obviously aren't good at it. I want to take them to my home and feed them homemade cookies we have made together, while getting messy and dirty and spilling ingredients without reprimand, and wrap them in cozy blankets and read to them and kiss their soft cheeks and give them nothing but goodness, nothing but sweetness and love and whatever it is that I can offer to them because they are alive, their hearts are beating and they are breathing and they deserve a chance to be the best to someone.
This, all this, even though sometimes my own grief, and shadow grief six times over, pulls me to the point of impatience with my own brood, makes me wilt and cry and handle situations less than skillfully, and causes me to question my own worth as a parent.
But my misgivings about myself are in the moment, are gut reactions to one specific moment or behavior, I never question the worth of my child. If my words caused her to sit down quietly and hang her head, defeated, I would feel by crushed my actions. Children are miraculous, no more, no less. They are absolutely amazing. To think of the physical and cognitive skills that a child masters in five short years is staggering. Now think of the emotional skills they are capable of if only we allow it. How they can flourish and shine when we tell them not just that they are "good", but that they are worthy, and capable, and amazing. How they glow when they realize that we are truly proud for exactly what they are doing, which is learning and growing, and aren't just pleased by the successful perfection of a specific task.
So I think the long and the short of it is, that however one chooses to parent, it seems only fair that one should prioritize the self worth of one's child. This encompasses the simple, basic necessities of loving ones child, respecting ones child, and allowing him or her the individuality that we are all due. How one then chooses to go on and feed, or discipline, or whatever else goes into the daily ritual is off my radar. I just wish I could see people letting their children be children, like beautiful daisies growing in a summer field, each so beautiful in his or her own way. I wish more children could have a half-full glass, could have the benefit of the doubt, could be given something to grab onto to inspire them to reach to higher places.
And I wish this in part, of course, because my daisy was plucked much to soon, and never had a chance to dance to her own breeze, and develop her own strength of character. Her glass is empty. So couldn't those who are here fill up with some of what she lost?
_________________________
Someone commented to me the other day that May seemed much less heavy this year, that the posts here were much less dragging and sullen. Truth, yes, but it dismays me to think that through the nausea and exhaustion and incredible sense of purpose from a fundraising walk last weekend and a conference next week, that I was perhaps slightly distracted from it all, and we all know how effective it can be to shelve emotion for later (hem, hem). So perhaps there will be days upcoming which are heavier than those that have passed, and for those days I will be grateful.
It feels nicer for me to be sad than to be angry, but it is so much easier to feel angry.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Today Is For Remembering...Charlotte
I just saw this poem on another loss blog, and I wanted to re-post it here and dedicate it to my very dear friend Carol on this day (her 6th birthday), the day of her sweet baby Charlotte's birth, the day her beautiful girl's body stopped working.
Today Is For Remembering
by W.W. Roberts
Today is for remembering
The day begins like any other day,
The busy-ness of people all around me
Going about the tasks of their day,
Will never know the pain
This day marks for me.
I have survived a difficult year.
I have endured more pain and heartache
Than I ever thought possible,
And I have survived.
And I miss you...
It may just be another day
To everyone else,
But today I remember you.
I just saw this poem on another loss blog, and I wanted to re-post it here and dedicate it to my very dear friend Carol on this day (her 6th birthday), the day of her sweet baby Charlotte's birth, the day her beautiful girl's body stopped working.
Today Is For Remembering
by W.W. Roberts
Today is for remembering
The day begins like any other day,
The busy-ness of people all around me
Going about the tasks of their day,
Will never know the pain
This day marks for me.
I have survived a difficult year.
I have endured more pain and heartache
Than I ever thought possible,
And I have survived.
And I miss you...
It may just be another day
To everyone else,
But today I remember you.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
The Heaviness of May
It's coming, the heaviness that struck a pang in my heart even deeper than it already had been 2 years ago, 2 Mother's Day(s) ago...
Though this year is a "re-newal" year for me, for us, I will still feel that weight in my heart, hanging and pulling on the strings (of my heart) that aren't quite in tune as they used to be.
As many of you know, this month is (my dear friend Carol's) baby Charlotte's month. For the past 2 years since I met Carol, and have grown close to her and her family I also have felt pulled in close to Charlotte. Pulled in close to her spirit and I am always close to Birdie's spirit. The last few days, I am finding myself even more taken with thoughts of Charlotte and how it is she and her Mama that have helped so much to shape how I was able to openly grieve for Birdie (and still do). I have never (personally) known or seen any Mama express such beautifully fierc edeep love and gratitude for her children. Through my friendship with Carol, I have been blessed to witness her un-ending love and devotion for her Charlotte, and her beautiful and gentle awareness of living each day to the fullest with her miracle babies, Liam and Aiofe. For they are miracles. Beautiful, gracious miracles who speak of their sister Charlotte so innocently and lovingly...she is with them.
I remember the first time I went to Carol's house. I had arrived on a cool, gray April day (i believe it was April). We were in the kitchen speaking softly, Liam and Aiofe were napping and over the monitor we heard Liam say: "I'm sad that Charlotte died".
Carol and I looked at each other, tears in our eyes.
"You must have brought some Birdie energy with you", Carol said.
Oh, yes, yes I did. Since that moment, since that day I have felt not only Birdie's spirit with me, but also Charlotte's. I like hope that our girls found each other, up there in the stars, in the constellations...in the universe.
And so, as the spirit's of these two little girls fill my heart, so does my gratitude for a friendship that probably might not have been. As I feel this gratitude and love for my dear friend and her children...
I also wish that her dear sweet Charlotte was with her not only in spirit, and memory, but in the flesh. I wish that her Charlotte was upstairs asleep, sweetly breathing and gently dreaming of the adventures she would have in the day to come.
Soon Charlotte will be 6. May 13th, that is her day...that is her day. As we grow closer to the date, I know that my friend is feeling the pang of sadness. The bittersweet of the spring, the season that was supposed to have welcomed her precious blessing, that instead showered her family in tears of sadness.
Why Birdie?
Why Charlotte?
Why?
I love you Birdie.
I love you Charlotte.
It's coming, the heaviness that struck a pang in my heart even deeper than it already had been 2 years ago, 2 Mother's Day(s) ago...
Though this year is a "re-newal" year for me, for us, I will still feel that weight in my heart, hanging and pulling on the strings (of my heart) that aren't quite in tune as they used to be.
As many of you know, this month is (my dear friend Carol's) baby Charlotte's month. For the past 2 years since I met Carol, and have grown close to her and her family I also have felt pulled in close to Charlotte. Pulled in close to her spirit and I am always close to Birdie's spirit. The last few days, I am finding myself even more taken with thoughts of Charlotte and how it is she and her Mama that have helped so much to shape how I was able to openly grieve for Birdie (and still do). I have never (personally) known or seen any Mama express such beautifully fierc edeep love and gratitude for her children. Through my friendship with Carol, I have been blessed to witness her un-ending love and devotion for her Charlotte, and her beautiful and gentle awareness of living each day to the fullest with her miracle babies, Liam and Aiofe. For they are miracles. Beautiful, gracious miracles who speak of their sister Charlotte so innocently and lovingly...she is with them.
I remember the first time I went to Carol's house. I had arrived on a cool, gray April day (i believe it was April). We were in the kitchen speaking softly, Liam and Aiofe were napping and over the monitor we heard Liam say: "I'm sad that Charlotte died".
Carol and I looked at each other, tears in our eyes.
"You must have brought some Birdie energy with you", Carol said.
Oh, yes, yes I did. Since that moment, since that day I have felt not only Birdie's spirit with me, but also Charlotte's. I like hope that our girls found each other, up there in the stars, in the constellations...in the universe.
And so, as the spirit's of these two little girls fill my heart, so does my gratitude for a friendship that probably might not have been. As I feel this gratitude and love for my dear friend and her children...
I also wish that her dear sweet Charlotte was with her not only in spirit, and memory, but in the flesh. I wish that her Charlotte was upstairs asleep, sweetly breathing and gently dreaming of the adventures she would have in the day to come.
Soon Charlotte will be 6. May 13th, that is her day...that is her day. As we grow closer to the date, I know that my friend is feeling the pang of sadness. The bittersweet of the spring, the season that was supposed to have welcomed her precious blessing, that instead showered her family in tears of sadness.
Why Birdie?
Why Charlotte?
Why?
I love you Birdie.
I love you Charlotte.
Monday, May 04, 2009
Family Portrait In EXHALE Magazine
Mothers Day will soon be here....and I am blessed to honor the memory of our babies in this months EXHALE Magazine.
Peace & Love,
Erin
Mothers Day will soon be here....and I am blessed to honor the memory of our babies in this months EXHALE Magazine.
Peace & Love,
Erin
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
28 Weeks 3 Days
He is growing! He weighed in at 17 lbs last week! Holdyn is doing great! We were both a little under the weather for about a week (stuffy/coughy), but we are good as new now! What can I say, there is SO much to say, Holdyn is just so incredible to hang out with and observe, and smooch and hug! We are having a lot of fun together...and the love grows more and more everyday.
Thank you to everyone who donated to our March of Dimes walk! Your so very super and generous! I will have photos from our walk very soon!
He is growing! He weighed in at 17 lbs last week! Holdyn is doing great! We were both a little under the weather for about a week (stuffy/coughy), but we are good as new now! What can I say, there is SO much to say, Holdyn is just so incredible to hang out with and observe, and smooch and hug! We are having a lot of fun together...and the love grows more and more everyday.
Thank you to everyone who donated to our March of Dimes walk! Your so very super and generous! I will have photos from our walk very soon!
Friday, April 17, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
I'm Da Mama, Fo Shizzle!
OK, enough! I am squashing this stupid shit right now! No more being Ms. Insecure Mama Pants!!!!
Holdyn is MY SON and I will not let anyone walk on my parenting skillz. I assure all my doubters that he is going to turn out just fine thank you very much. He will be a very self assured, independant, creative, kind, compassionate, empathetic, curious and loving little man. (So doubters, keep your comments and eye rolls to yourself, OK? Thanks.)
Just you wait and see!!!
He's just a baby man! He's my baby and I will do what I please!
So, all the negative shit I am gonna just SSSSSSSQQQQQQQAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSHHH right here right now.
(thank you ladies for your very, very inspiring words of support! - thank you Carol, for the extra added boost, it's always so helpful to talk to you!!!)
Later.
OK, enough! I am squashing this stupid shit right now! No more being Ms. Insecure Mama Pants!!!!
Holdyn is MY SON and I will not let anyone walk on my parenting skillz. I assure all my doubters that he is going to turn out just fine thank you very much. He will be a very self assured, independant, creative, kind, compassionate, empathetic, curious and loving little man. (So doubters, keep your comments and eye rolls to yourself, OK? Thanks.)
Just you wait and see!!!
He's just a baby man! He's my baby and I will do what I please!
So, all the negative shit I am gonna just SSSSSSSQQQQQQQAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSHHH right here right now.
(thank you ladies for your very, very inspiring words of support! - thank you Carol, for the extra added boost, it's always so helpful to talk to you!!!)
Later.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Honesty & Support
I have always been very open and honest with my writings here on this blog. Open about my grief and my process, open about my feelings about Birdies death and how she died. All of it, everything.
I can't help that I am an open hearted person. I am not shy about my emotions and feelings about Birdie, I am not shy about much of anything here. Yes, there are many readers of this blog, some of whom have perhaps never commented, but stop by to check in from time to time. So, it seems that I express my feeling about death and life to complete strangers, for the most part this is true. There have been so many things on my mind as of late that I really want to be able to write about here, because of the larger "support" that I find through my readers.
Lately I have been feeling self-conscious and insecure about the way that I am choosing to parent, by instinct. As you might have read the post I wrote about this (that I have since deleted), and in it I gave a "name" to the "choice" of parenting style as "Attachment Parenting". To be honest I really am not at all fond of putting a label to my parenting choice(s). However, sometimes I feel that as a direct result of many very personal hurdles, emotional turmoil, emotional baggage, lack of self-confidence etc. left over from childhood etc. etc. that I sometimes for some people need to put a label to how I parent, to the choices that I make. Or do I?
It's so hard for me not to write completely honestly about what I am REALLY trying to say here.
-Yes, I am self-conscious (and I am not usually a self-concious person)
-Yes, I struggle very much with my confidence, mostly when I am around others who I am uncertain of how they perceive me (again, I am not usually this way, I am usually very self assured)
-Yes, I am probably over-reacting (yet more baggage from childhood)
-Yes, I just wish that I could let go and just not worry so damn much!!!
It's so damn hard though. It's not like anyone besides a few close people to us tell us what a great job we are doing with Holdyn. Nor do many people say how kind and loving it is that we "wear" him...
"While principles of attachment parenting encourage parents to trust their own instincts, many lack confidence and feel the need to rely on science to validate and substantiate what they already know on an intuitive level, if only to quiet the doubts of family and friends."
That quote rings so very true for me...
I really, really do not like feeling this way. It is unfair to myself, and it's unfair to Holdyn when we are around others, because I can feel that I treat him a little differently (I am more shy to respond to him). I know that it's ridiculous!
I guess what I mean to say, to GET OUT here in this post is that I am disappointed by the lack of support we receive for parenting like we do, trusting our instincts and intuition, really listening and responding to what our children need.
VS.
The incredible amount of support that we received after Birdie died. The support we felt was endless, it was so beautiful and kind.
Where has it gone?
I have always been very open and honest with my writings here on this blog. Open about my grief and my process, open about my feelings about Birdies death and how she died. All of it, everything.
I can't help that I am an open hearted person. I am not shy about my emotions and feelings about Birdie, I am not shy about much of anything here. Yes, there are many readers of this blog, some of whom have perhaps never commented, but stop by to check in from time to time. So, it seems that I express my feeling about death and life to complete strangers, for the most part this is true. There have been so many things on my mind as of late that I really want to be able to write about here, because of the larger "support" that I find through my readers.
Lately I have been feeling self-conscious and insecure about the way that I am choosing to parent, by instinct. As you might have read the post I wrote about this (that I have since deleted), and in it I gave a "name" to the "choice" of parenting style as "Attachment Parenting". To be honest I really am not at all fond of putting a label to my parenting choice(s). However, sometimes I feel that as a direct result of many very personal hurdles, emotional turmoil, emotional baggage, lack of self-confidence etc. left over from childhood etc. etc. that I sometimes for some people need to put a label to how I parent, to the choices that I make. Or do I?
It's so hard for me not to write completely honestly about what I am REALLY trying to say here.
-Yes, I am self-conscious (and I am not usually a self-concious person)
-Yes, I struggle very much with my confidence, mostly when I am around others who I am uncertain of how they perceive me (again, I am not usually this way, I am usually very self assured)
-Yes, I am probably over-reacting (yet more baggage from childhood)
-Yes, I just wish that I could let go and just not worry so damn much!!!
It's so damn hard though. It's not like anyone besides a few close people to us tell us what a great job we are doing with Holdyn. Nor do many people say how kind and loving it is that we "wear" him...
"While principles of attachment parenting encourage parents to trust their own instincts, many lack confidence and feel the need to rely on science to validate and substantiate what they already know on an intuitive level, if only to quiet the doubts of family and friends."
That quote rings so very true for me...
I really, really do not like feeling this way. It is unfair to myself, and it's unfair to Holdyn when we are around others, because I can feel that I treat him a little differently (I am more shy to respond to him). I know that it's ridiculous!
I guess what I mean to say, to GET OUT here in this post is that I am disappointed by the lack of support we receive for parenting like we do, trusting our instincts and intuition, really listening and responding to what our children need.
VS.
The incredible amount of support that we received after Birdie died. The support we felt was endless, it was so beautiful and kind.
Where has it gone?
Monday, April 06, 2009
Homebirth Deaths In Sydney Australia
A dear reader of this blog sent along this article (which I have also posted below) to me. I don't really have words right now, just sadness for these families and compassion for the babies who may very well have lived if it had not been for you know what.
"AT least four babies have died during home births in Sydney in the past nine months, including the daughter of one of Australia's most vocal advocates for hospital-free deliveries."
Janet Fraser, national convener of Joyous Birth, which encourages women to shun hospitals, is dealing with the death of her own baby during a water birth at her Croydon Park home.
Ms Fraser went into labour at home assisted only by her partner and a female friend when things went horribly wrong.
Editorial: Why hospital horrors bring birth risks home
Health officials yesterday warned the lives of more babies and their mothers were at risk as women increasingly turned their backs on the state's beleaguered public hospitals.
Westmead Hospital director of women's health Dr Andrew Pesce said he was aware of at least four deaths and another four homebirth babies who sustained possible brain damage since last July.
Dr Pesce said the tragedies showed it was time to reform maternity services to attract back women who have become refugees from the hospital system.
Tragic case: Mum in mourning
Dr Pesce said it was time the increased risks of home birth were acknowledged and addressed.
"There are one or two extra deaths per 1000 deliveries and I wish people would acknowledge that," Dr Pesce said.
"It's often presented as if there are no downsides to a home birth only up sides."
He said obstetricians and the health system had to take some responsibility and try to attract women back to the hospital system.
"In the hospital system we need to get our act together rather than make them refugees of the system," Dr Pesce said.
Australian College of Midwives president Professor Pat Brodie said more was urgently needed to be done to avoid future tragedies.
"We are very concerned about a maternity care system that is so abhorrent that women choose to do this (give birth without a midwife),'' Professor Brodie said.
She said the maternity services system needed to be re-organised so women were assigned to a single midwife who they knew and trusted and who could provide continuity of care throughout their pregnancy.
Dr Pesce said that getting continuity of care for pregnant women into the public hospital system was essential and might attract back some women who chose a home birth.
Home births in Australia represent just 0.25 per cent of all births.
Of the 277,436 babies born in 2006, just 708 were home births.
The majority of the home births are done with the assistance of a midwife.
Dr Pesce said women were free to choose the manner in which they gave birth and doctors could not intervene, even if the health of the baby was at risk.
While doctors could get a court order to deliver treatment to a baby after it was born, they needed the permission of the mother if they wanted to carry out a caesarean.
A maternity services review commissioned by the Government called for a major overhaul of the system in February.
The review wants a greater role for midwives in the system.
Health Minister Nicola Roxon has yet to respond to the report.
This article speaks to exactly what I have been saying...things can and DO go horribly wrong during labor. It is so unfair and unfortunate that these babies weren't even given a chance. Spare me the "babies die in hospitals line", it's a tired sputtering of words. Not only has this article shed light on these unnecessary deaths of 4 innocent babies, it has also shed light on babies born at home that have sustained possible brain damage.
My heart goes out to these families. I am so sorry you have to experience this terrible grief, I am so sorry your babies are not with you.
"It's often presented as if there are no downsides to a home birth only up sides."
Yes. Yes there are downsides. The downside is death and mourning.
A dear reader of this blog sent along this article (which I have also posted below) to me. I don't really have words right now, just sadness for these families and compassion for the babies who may very well have lived if it had not been for you know what.
"AT least four babies have died during home births in Sydney in the past nine months, including the daughter of one of Australia's most vocal advocates for hospital-free deliveries."
Janet Fraser, national convener of Joyous Birth, which encourages women to shun hospitals, is dealing with the death of her own baby during a water birth at her Croydon Park home.
Ms Fraser went into labour at home assisted only by her partner and a female friend when things went horribly wrong.
Editorial: Why hospital horrors bring birth risks home
Health officials yesterday warned the lives of more babies and their mothers were at risk as women increasingly turned their backs on the state's beleaguered public hospitals.
Westmead Hospital director of women's health Dr Andrew Pesce said he was aware of at least four deaths and another four homebirth babies who sustained possible brain damage since last July.
Dr Pesce said the tragedies showed it was time to reform maternity services to attract back women who have become refugees from the hospital system.
Tragic case: Mum in mourning
Dr Pesce said it was time the increased risks of home birth were acknowledged and addressed.
"There are one or two extra deaths per 1000 deliveries and I wish people would acknowledge that," Dr Pesce said.
"It's often presented as if there are no downsides to a home birth only up sides."
He said obstetricians and the health system had to take some responsibility and try to attract women back to the hospital system.
"In the hospital system we need to get our act together rather than make them refugees of the system," Dr Pesce said.
Australian College of Midwives president Professor Pat Brodie said more was urgently needed to be done to avoid future tragedies.
"We are very concerned about a maternity care system that is so abhorrent that women choose to do this (give birth without a midwife),'' Professor Brodie said.
She said the maternity services system needed to be re-organised so women were assigned to a single midwife who they knew and trusted and who could provide continuity of care throughout their pregnancy.
Dr Pesce said that getting continuity of care for pregnant women into the public hospital system was essential and might attract back some women who chose a home birth.
Home births in Australia represent just 0.25 per cent of all births.
Of the 277,436 babies born in 2006, just 708 were home births.
The majority of the home births are done with the assistance of a midwife.
Dr Pesce said women were free to choose the manner in which they gave birth and doctors could not intervene, even if the health of the baby was at risk.
While doctors could get a court order to deliver treatment to a baby after it was born, they needed the permission of the mother if they wanted to carry out a caesarean.
A maternity services review commissioned by the Government called for a major overhaul of the system in February.
The review wants a greater role for midwives in the system.
Health Minister Nicola Roxon has yet to respond to the report.
This article speaks to exactly what I have been saying...things can and DO go horribly wrong during labor. It is so unfair and unfortunate that these babies weren't even given a chance. Spare me the "babies die in hospitals line", it's a tired sputtering of words. Not only has this article shed light on these unnecessary deaths of 4 innocent babies, it has also shed light on babies born at home that have sustained possible brain damage.
My heart goes out to these families. I am so sorry you have to experience this terrible grief, I am so sorry your babies are not with you.
"It's often presented as if there are no downsides to a home birth only up sides."
Yes. Yes there are downsides. The downside is death and mourning.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Nearly 6 Months...
Where oh where has the time gone?
The days have slipped by that have brought us here to the eve of Holdyn's 6 month birthday! Though they have slipped by, they have not gone by without deep thought and attention. Everyday since Holdyn was born we have made it a point to take not even a second with him for granted. He has experiences nothing but loving kindness and compassion. He has been either in my arms (or sling), Matt's arms (or sling) or another family members arms at all times (except for about 5-10 mins in the am when I wash my face and brush my teeth).
I am so proud to say that Holdyn is continuing to thrive, he is so healthy and such a happy baby. He smiles, he laughs, he giggles, he rolls onto his back, he rolls onto his tummy, he sits up, he loves to stand up (supported), loves to play, loves to be tickled, loves his doggie, loves "Brown Bear Brown Bear, What Do You See", loves being sung to, loves to be talked to, loves my stainless steel water bottle, loves being outside...
I can go on. There are so many things that bring Holdyn joy.
He is amazing, so smart and he is so calm and content. I am addicted to my little man and I LOVE IT! He brings such light to my heart, such deep love and devotion. He is a healer. Like his sister, he is a little Buddha, full of joy and love, wonder and innocence.
His personality is already so joyful, gentle and curious, this makes me so happy. All I have ever wanted for him is happiness and a curiosity for life, it is amazing to watch his personality blossom!
Holdyn, you bring me so much happiness and healing. Never could I have known such love, such genuine enormous love had it not been for your sister.
I LOVE YOU baby Holdyn, my Holdyn.
Where oh where has the time gone?
The days have slipped by that have brought us here to the eve of Holdyn's 6 month birthday! Though they have slipped by, they have not gone by without deep thought and attention. Everyday since Holdyn was born we have made it a point to take not even a second with him for granted. He has experiences nothing but loving kindness and compassion. He has been either in my arms (or sling), Matt's arms (or sling) or another family members arms at all times (except for about 5-10 mins in the am when I wash my face and brush my teeth).
I am so proud to say that Holdyn is continuing to thrive, he is so healthy and such a happy baby. He smiles, he laughs, he giggles, he rolls onto his back, he rolls onto his tummy, he sits up, he loves to stand up (supported), loves to play, loves to be tickled, loves his doggie, loves "Brown Bear Brown Bear, What Do You See", loves being sung to, loves to be talked to, loves my stainless steel water bottle, loves being outside...
I can go on. There are so many things that bring Holdyn joy.
He is amazing, so smart and he is so calm and content. I am addicted to my little man and I LOVE IT! He brings such light to my heart, such deep love and devotion. He is a healer. Like his sister, he is a little Buddha, full of joy and love, wonder and innocence.
His personality is already so joyful, gentle and curious, this makes me so happy. All I have ever wanted for him is happiness and a curiosity for life, it is amazing to watch his personality blossom!
Holdyn, you bring me so much happiness and healing. Never could I have known such love, such genuine enormous love had it not been for your sister.
I LOVE YOU baby Holdyn, my Holdyn.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Yes, we all parent from our hearts.
I am interested in digging deeper into the cultural aspects of parenting (specifically western vs eastern and elsewhere), and the physiological and psychological effects this has on babies. If we look at the evidence of scientific analysis, anthropology, and new science of ethnopediatrics we find that babies are meant to be carried, are meant to sleep with their parents etc. My instincts have always felt this was right, so I guess I don't really need to label my way of parenting by any other name than biological, instinctual and amplified by loss.
The book Our Babies Ourselves is a must read.
I, I take photos from my heart, I always have and always will. Holdyn is nearly 25 weeks. It's been a while since I posted photos, here are some from 23 weeks - 24 weeks.
I am interested in digging deeper into the cultural aspects of parenting (specifically western vs eastern and elsewhere), and the physiological and psychological effects this has on babies. If we look at the evidence of scientific analysis, anthropology, and new science of ethnopediatrics we find that babies are meant to be carried, are meant to sleep with their parents etc. My instincts have always felt this was right, so I guess I don't really need to label my way of parenting by any other name than biological, instinctual and amplified by loss.
The book Our Babies Ourselves is a must read.
I, I take photos from my heart, I always have and always will. Holdyn is nearly 25 weeks. It's been a while since I posted photos, here are some from 23 weeks - 24 weeks.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
"Loss" For Words
I'm not really sure where to begin...
Birdie's birthday was a very somber but also a very beautiful day. This is what I saw when I woke up in the morning.
The sunshine that came bursting into the kitchen was very nostalgic of the morning that Birdie died. The sun was out that day, it was blasting and the sky was so blue. I know I didn't glance out the window more than a few times, but I remember that sky, that was Birdie's sky....as blue as her eyes were (we had opened one of her eyes to see).
We took things really slow on this 2nd birthday of our little bird. We rose slowly in the morn, we made no definite plans and just let the moments guide us.
This year was different feeling as we have a sweet little miracle to celebrate our sadness with. It felt different, though this year I was able to feel some of the deepest loathing dark sadness that I had on March 3, 2007. Somehow I was able to get back there, and with Holdyn in my arms I cried, I sobbed, I cried into his neck and took in his smell, I bathed in his warmth and his breath.
And my dear Matthew...he sat for hours with Birdie's urn. He sat with her body, her remains, her dust, her ash, the remnants of bone and flesh. He sat with her in this way for hours, recording video footage, close up studies of her beautiful body in her beautiful urn. I watched him do this for a time, my heart exploded and I wailed out loud. My heart broke for him, for not being able to be there lying in bed with his little girl, singing happy birthday, tickling each other, giggling into the afternoon...smitten with each other.
We decided to go snowshoeing.
It was a gorgeous day, the air was fresh with winter and snow. A perfect day for a wintery hike with Birdie, and she sang for us, before our time in the forest was done...we heard her sing.
And now here we are, I have been feeling a bit lost. Not knowing what to write because I have so much to say. I have also been busy with little Holdyn, what a miracle to wake up next to each morning, what a lovely little person to drink in, to cuddle, to nuzzle, to nurse.
It's because of Birdie that he is here right now. It is because of Birdie that I am the mother I am to Holdyn, it is because of both my children that I have let go of (and continue to let go of) my past burdens, my emotional trauma's, my baggage, my stresses. These little ones are reminders of the importance of the here and now, that each moment is so very precious, that we cannot get caught up in petty issues that are pointless. My children are like little sitting Buddhas keeping me in the here and now, in the present moment, and truly, truly being there, being completely available for Holdyn. With a clear mind I am able to see what makes him happy, when he is about to become sad, or hear that little change in his voice tells me he is hungry.
Can you tell that I am tired? I have begun to ramble.
Time for bed, my sweet little nursling will be calling soon.
xo-Erin
I'm not really sure where to begin...
Birdie's birthday was a very somber but also a very beautiful day. This is what I saw when I woke up in the morning.
The sunshine that came bursting into the kitchen was very nostalgic of the morning that Birdie died. The sun was out that day, it was blasting and the sky was so blue. I know I didn't glance out the window more than a few times, but I remember that sky, that was Birdie's sky....as blue as her eyes were (we had opened one of her eyes to see).
We took things really slow on this 2nd birthday of our little bird. We rose slowly in the morn, we made no definite plans and just let the moments guide us.
This year was different feeling as we have a sweet little miracle to celebrate our sadness with. It felt different, though this year I was able to feel some of the deepest loathing dark sadness that I had on March 3, 2007. Somehow I was able to get back there, and with Holdyn in my arms I cried, I sobbed, I cried into his neck and took in his smell, I bathed in his warmth and his breath.
And my dear Matthew...he sat for hours with Birdie's urn. He sat with her body, her remains, her dust, her ash, the remnants of bone and flesh. He sat with her in this way for hours, recording video footage, close up studies of her beautiful body in her beautiful urn. I watched him do this for a time, my heart exploded and I wailed out loud. My heart broke for him, for not being able to be there lying in bed with his little girl, singing happy birthday, tickling each other, giggling into the afternoon...smitten with each other.
We decided to go snowshoeing.
It was a gorgeous day, the air was fresh with winter and snow. A perfect day for a wintery hike with Birdie, and she sang for us, before our time in the forest was done...we heard her sing.
And now here we are, I have been feeling a bit lost. Not knowing what to write because I have so much to say. I have also been busy with little Holdyn, what a miracle to wake up next to each morning, what a lovely little person to drink in, to cuddle, to nuzzle, to nurse.
It's because of Birdie that he is here right now. It is because of Birdie that I am the mother I am to Holdyn, it is because of both my children that I have let go of (and continue to let go of) my past burdens, my emotional trauma's, my baggage, my stresses. These little ones are reminders of the importance of the here and now, that each moment is so very precious, that we cannot get caught up in petty issues that are pointless. My children are like little sitting Buddhas keeping me in the here and now, in the present moment, and truly, truly being there, being completely available for Holdyn. With a clear mind I am able to see what makes him happy, when he is about to become sad, or hear that little change in his voice tells me he is hungry.
Can you tell that I am tired? I have begun to ramble.
Time for bed, my sweet little nursling will be calling soon.
xo-Erin
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
The Sun Is Out Of Bed, Our Phoenix Has Risen
(For The Second Time)
Now we are here, the actual time of birth and death have once again arrived and passed. On this day there will be celebration, though quiet and somber. No cheerful little girl will be here running around, anticipating the excitement and wonder of her day, there will be no gifts to be thoughtfully opened slowly one at a time. We will not witness the sparkle of life in our daughters eyes. We will instead spend our days with our own wonder at the mystery of her death, with sorrow in our hearts and watch as little waterfalls spill forth from our eyes...and a tiny miracle will make this sadness OK. For there in this dark space there will be our light, our hope, our son, Holdyn who is 5 months old on his sisters 2nd birthday.
This is all still very surreal, perhaps it is always going to be.
Birdie, we miss you and love you so much.
Love you always...until we meet again in the stars,
Mama
(For The Second Time)
Now we are here, the actual time of birth and death have once again arrived and passed. On this day there will be celebration, though quiet and somber. No cheerful little girl will be here running around, anticipating the excitement and wonder of her day, there will be no gifts to be thoughtfully opened slowly one at a time. We will not witness the sparkle of life in our daughters eyes. We will instead spend our days with our own wonder at the mystery of her death, with sorrow in our hearts and watch as little waterfalls spill forth from our eyes...and a tiny miracle will make this sadness OK. For there in this dark space there will be our light, our hope, our son, Holdyn who is 5 months old on his sisters 2nd birthday.
This is all still very surreal, perhaps it is always going to be.
Birdie, we miss you and love you so much.
Love you always...until we meet again in the stars,
Mama
Monday, March 02, 2009
Here It Comes. I See The Sun Just On The Horizon.
Last week I was experiencing a feeling that I had not felt since my pregnancy with Birdie. The feeling is hard to describe because it was so physical present within my body. It was almost like my body had returned to a state of pregnancy, and my mind knew what was to come. There was a wisdom there and also a sadness, and it felt very real and very familiar. I can't remember having felt that last year, a physical remembering within my body though there was definitely a rush of emotional memories, and visual memories.
Also last week a mysterious feather appeared in our house. I had noticed something on one of our rugs, and thought it was a random piece of string or fabric from my craft bin. I had noticed it and ignored it. And ignored it. Then, I was curious so I looked closer and realized it was a feather quickly I picked it up. Immediately I shared my find with Matt, we were both baffled. Now this is no ordinary everyday feather, it's long and has a reddish brown hue. It's not a crow nor pigeon feather, it looks like a pheasant feather we are guessing. However, it could be from a cardinal. We just don't know. What we do know is that it was not there earlier in the day, and after we came home from taking Holdyn to see Elizabeth Mitchell perform it was there.
We are sure it was Birdie sending us a sign.
So, here it comes my friends...here we are, here I sit tonight with a heavy heart (my heart is always a little heavy as you already know) as the seconds, minutes and hours tick tock away. The precious last hours that 2 years ago today were Birdie's last hours alive. Her Karma nearly fulfilled, for soon she would become a sitting Buddha, an enlightened one, a spirit, a perfect light of everlasting true love.
As hard as it can be to think about this time, and the vast and dark expanse of what came after things took a dangerous turn, I do think about it. I don't shield my eyes, or turn away and hide from it, my daughters death is my truth. Birdie's death is seared into my heart, and inked upon my skin. She is my daily reminder to enjoy life to the fullest, to let go of the bitterness that can turn emotions into an avalanche of anger and disgust.
This year I wonder who will forget and who will remember.
We just got a foot of fresh snow, so for Birdie's birthday we are headed to the mountains for a little snowshoeing adventure. I know it's going to be beautiful, quiet and peaceful. Holdyn of course will be there bundled up, safe and warm in the carrier. It will be our first snowshoeing adventure of the year, and Holdyn's first walk in a snowy wood.
Almost 5 1/2 hours to go now...
I am re-living that night in my mind, the feelings and memories have grown stronger since I began this post almost an hour ago. This is where it all went down, right here in these rooms before me.
Did I miss something? Some sign of distress? A call for help?
The sun is just about on the horizon...I will see you on the other side, Birdie will not.
Last week I was experiencing a feeling that I had not felt since my pregnancy with Birdie. The feeling is hard to describe because it was so physical present within my body. It was almost like my body had returned to a state of pregnancy, and my mind knew what was to come. There was a wisdom there and also a sadness, and it felt very real and very familiar. I can't remember having felt that last year, a physical remembering within my body though there was definitely a rush of emotional memories, and visual memories.
Also last week a mysterious feather appeared in our house. I had noticed something on one of our rugs, and thought it was a random piece of string or fabric from my craft bin. I had noticed it and ignored it. And ignored it. Then, I was curious so I looked closer and realized it was a feather quickly I picked it up. Immediately I shared my find with Matt, we were both baffled. Now this is no ordinary everyday feather, it's long and has a reddish brown hue. It's not a crow nor pigeon feather, it looks like a pheasant feather we are guessing. However, it could be from a cardinal. We just don't know. What we do know is that it was not there earlier in the day, and after we came home from taking Holdyn to see Elizabeth Mitchell perform it was there.
We are sure it was Birdie sending us a sign.
So, here it comes my friends...here we are, here I sit tonight with a heavy heart (my heart is always a little heavy as you already know) as the seconds, minutes and hours tick tock away. The precious last hours that 2 years ago today were Birdie's last hours alive. Her Karma nearly fulfilled, for soon she would become a sitting Buddha, an enlightened one, a spirit, a perfect light of everlasting true love.
As hard as it can be to think about this time, and the vast and dark expanse of what came after things took a dangerous turn, I do think about it. I don't shield my eyes, or turn away and hide from it, my daughters death is my truth. Birdie's death is seared into my heart, and inked upon my skin. She is my daily reminder to enjoy life to the fullest, to let go of the bitterness that can turn emotions into an avalanche of anger and disgust.
This year I wonder who will forget and who will remember.
We just got a foot of fresh snow, so for Birdie's birthday we are headed to the mountains for a little snowshoeing adventure. I know it's going to be beautiful, quiet and peaceful. Holdyn of course will be there bundled up, safe and warm in the carrier. It will be our first snowshoeing adventure of the year, and Holdyn's first walk in a snowy wood.
Almost 5 1/2 hours to go now...
I am re-living that night in my mind, the feelings and memories have grown stronger since I began this post almost an hour ago. This is where it all went down, right here in these rooms before me.
Did I miss something? Some sign of distress? A call for help?
The sun is just about on the horizon...I will see you on the other side, Birdie will not.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Unplug Your Ears.
To those of you who read this blog who were fortunate to have a safe and successful birth in your home, bless you.
Unfortunately, my baby died very likely because of my choice to birth at home. So forever I am a Mama who will never ever be in support homebirth. It scares the shit out of me when I hear about someone that I or a friend knows who is considering homebirth. Belt's comment from my last post states it all so clearly...
"I was a strong proponent of natural birth/homebirth until everything that possibly could go wrong did go wrong during the course of my labor. Perhaps my decision to have a hospital birth is one of the reasons I have my son with me here today. Perhaps that was not a factor at all. I think it had to have been, as I required a c-section delivery.
There are happy home birth stories and sad home birth stories. Although there are women can rejoice in sharing a happy story, I think it is important to not let that joy detract from the very real, very sad stories that often fall on deaf or plugged ears. There are risks and uncertainties in home birth and we need to listen to the Mamas coming from a place of unwanted experience and unfortunate wisdom."
I am not saying all these things lightly, and I am not saying them without a VERY heavy heart. I simply feel the need to express once more just how seriously dangerous this choice CAN be.
Please don't tell me that homebirth is safe, that babies die in hospitals etc. As I said before, NO SHIT! My life is wrapped in a blanket of dead baby, OK? I know about ALL the ways that a baby can die, my life has been touched by this knowledge and so have the lives of many beautiful families that I now call friends, people whom I care very deeply for.
My point is this. You NEVER know what your body is going to do during labor. You just don't. You can think, you can feel so certain that you KNOW. But, you don't. Case in point, when I was in labor (going for VBAC) with Holdyn, I labored for more than 24 hours and simply could not progress past 9.5 cm. We tried all the midwifery tricks (I had CNM's), then Holdyn's heart rate dipped very low a few times. This happened after a few regular dips earlier, dips in his heart rate that were not concerning but normal. However, the last few were more alarming because I was NOT progressing and could have began to cause him distress (even though he did not show signs of this). So, we simply had to get him out, and it was not an emergency, however...when he was born we knew right away why he was not able to progress into my birth canal. My cervix had a Bandel's Ring...and Holdyn was stuck, there was no way he was going to be born vaginally.
" A Bandel's (retraction) ring develops from the physiological ring and is often -- but not always -- the result of an obstructed labor. Sometimes it can actually be seen as an abdominal indentation, signifying impending rupture of the lower uterine segment. If this should happen, death of the fetus ensues and maternal death is imminent, if nothing is done.
Immediate cesarean birth is usually carried out if this ring is seen, but usually the length of labor has been prolonged and caesarean birth is indicated anyway. CPD, or cephalopelvic disproportion, is the prime cause for an obstructed labor but, occasionally, it could be due to malposition, malpresentation, obstetric manipulations, twins, maternal fatigue and failed forceps delivery. The shape of the uterus can be normal, but this condition develops in late labor."
Now, let's move this scenario into the homebirthing world. There you are, at home, you have progressed to 9.5 cm. You stay at 9.5 cm for a good 3 hrs at least after more than 24 hrs of labor. Your baby's heart rate is steady upon each 10-15 minute check. However, in between the intermittent heart rate checks by the midwife, 2 very low dips in heart rate are missed...signs that your baby COULD soon go into fetal distress. You are then checked again, the heart rate is normal perhaps...
You are checked again...the heart rate of your baby has dropped.
You change positions, baby's heart rate is still very low....you are now in an emergency situation.
Everybody rushes in a calm manner to get you dressed and into the car, maybe you have a 5 minute ride to the hospital, maybe you have a 1/2 hr ride to the hospital. No matter how long it takes you, you have no control of what is going on within your womb, your baby is beginning to distress and this may or may not go even more down hill as you make your way to the hospital.
You see where I am going with this right?
I know that everyone wants to believe in birth, that it is always so natural and safe...that hospitals are BAD, doctors are BAD etc. All that bullshit that has been plugged into the ears of innocent believing women (I used to be one of these people!). My ears were plugged, I believed in the beauty and wisdom of my body and birth, that "My Body Knows Just What To Do". It is simply a dangerous emotional belief, a belief that so many women hold onto SO tightly that they unknowingly blind themselves into believing against their baby's best interest. Again, I WAS ONE OF THESE WOMEN.
All I am trying to say through all of this is this: Hospital/Birth Center births CAN BE a beautiful glorious place to birth. Regardless of how you end up giving birth to your child. All you MUST do is seek out the right place to give birth, meet with the staff, get to know your CNM's and the docs very well. Express over and over again WHAT YOU WANT, put your foot down about WHAT YOU ABSOLUTELY DON"T WANT. Also knowing way back in the back closet of your mind...that if your labor doesn't go in the rosey manner you had envisioned and planned so long for, that you might have to give birth via c-section. THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON HERE IS YOUR BABY!
I know that there are hospitals/birth centers out there much like the one that Birdie was born at (remember the doctor tried in vain to save her), and Holdyn...I have NO regrets that he was born via c-section. It very well could have saved his life. If I had been stupid enough to attempt another homebirth, or "freebirth" he probably would not be here right now, beautifully sleeping upon my breast.
I wonder how many more of US there are out there, but are just to scared to speak up for fear of being pounced on by the homebirthing believers? I am scared of nobody at this point, I will debate this issue until I die, and even then the memory of the event that may well have caused my daughter's death will live on.
To those of you who read this blog who were fortunate to have a safe and successful birth in your home, bless you.
Unfortunately, my baby died very likely because of my choice to birth at home. So forever I am a Mama who will never ever be in support homebirth. It scares the shit out of me when I hear about someone that I or a friend knows who is considering homebirth. Belt's comment from my last post states it all so clearly...
"I was a strong proponent of natural birth/homebirth until everything that possibly could go wrong did go wrong during the course of my labor. Perhaps my decision to have a hospital birth is one of the reasons I have my son with me here today. Perhaps that was not a factor at all. I think it had to have been, as I required a c-section delivery.
There are happy home birth stories and sad home birth stories. Although there are women can rejoice in sharing a happy story, I think it is important to not let that joy detract from the very real, very sad stories that often fall on deaf or plugged ears. There are risks and uncertainties in home birth and we need to listen to the Mamas coming from a place of unwanted experience and unfortunate wisdom."
I am not saying all these things lightly, and I am not saying them without a VERY heavy heart. I simply feel the need to express once more just how seriously dangerous this choice CAN be.
Please don't tell me that homebirth is safe, that babies die in hospitals etc. As I said before, NO SHIT! My life is wrapped in a blanket of dead baby, OK? I know about ALL the ways that a baby can die, my life has been touched by this knowledge and so have the lives of many beautiful families that I now call friends, people whom I care very deeply for.
My point is this. You NEVER know what your body is going to do during labor. You just don't. You can think, you can feel so certain that you KNOW. But, you don't. Case in point, when I was in labor (going for VBAC) with Holdyn, I labored for more than 24 hours and simply could not progress past 9.5 cm. We tried all the midwifery tricks (I had CNM's), then Holdyn's heart rate dipped very low a few times. This happened after a few regular dips earlier, dips in his heart rate that were not concerning but normal. However, the last few were more alarming because I was NOT progressing and could have began to cause him distress (even though he did not show signs of this). So, we simply had to get him out, and it was not an emergency, however...when he was born we knew right away why he was not able to progress into my birth canal. My cervix had a Bandel's Ring...and Holdyn was stuck, there was no way he was going to be born vaginally.
" A Bandel's (retraction) ring develops from the physiological ring and is often -- but not always -- the result of an obstructed labor. Sometimes it can actually be seen as an abdominal indentation, signifying impending rupture of the lower uterine segment. If this should happen, death of the fetus ensues and maternal death is imminent, if nothing is done.
Immediate cesarean birth is usually carried out if this ring is seen, but usually the length of labor has been prolonged and caesarean birth is indicated anyway. CPD, or cephalopelvic disproportion, is the prime cause for an obstructed labor but, occasionally, it could be due to malposition, malpresentation, obstetric manipulations, twins, maternal fatigue and failed forceps delivery. The shape of the uterus can be normal, but this condition develops in late labor."
Now, let's move this scenario into the homebirthing world. There you are, at home, you have progressed to 9.5 cm. You stay at 9.5 cm for a good 3 hrs at least after more than 24 hrs of labor. Your baby's heart rate is steady upon each 10-15 minute check. However, in between the intermittent heart rate checks by the midwife, 2 very low dips in heart rate are missed...signs that your baby COULD soon go into fetal distress. You are then checked again, the heart rate is normal perhaps...
You are checked again...the heart rate of your baby has dropped.
You change positions, baby's heart rate is still very low....you are now in an emergency situation.
Everybody rushes in a calm manner to get you dressed and into the car, maybe you have a 5 minute ride to the hospital, maybe you have a 1/2 hr ride to the hospital. No matter how long it takes you, you have no control of what is going on within your womb, your baby is beginning to distress and this may or may not go even more down hill as you make your way to the hospital.
You see where I am going with this right?
I know that everyone wants to believe in birth, that it is always so natural and safe...that hospitals are BAD, doctors are BAD etc. All that bullshit that has been plugged into the ears of innocent believing women (I used to be one of these people!). My ears were plugged, I believed in the beauty and wisdom of my body and birth, that "My Body Knows Just What To Do". It is simply a dangerous emotional belief, a belief that so many women hold onto SO tightly that they unknowingly blind themselves into believing against their baby's best interest. Again, I WAS ONE OF THESE WOMEN.
All I am trying to say through all of this is this: Hospital/Birth Center births CAN BE a beautiful glorious place to birth. Regardless of how you end up giving birth to your child. All you MUST do is seek out the right place to give birth, meet with the staff, get to know your CNM's and the docs very well. Express over and over again WHAT YOU WANT, put your foot down about WHAT YOU ABSOLUTELY DON"T WANT. Also knowing way back in the back closet of your mind...that if your labor doesn't go in the rosey manner you had envisioned and planned so long for, that you might have to give birth via c-section. THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON HERE IS YOUR BABY!
I know that there are hospitals/birth centers out there much like the one that Birdie was born at (remember the doctor tried in vain to save her), and Holdyn...I have NO regrets that he was born via c-section. It very well could have saved his life. If I had been stupid enough to attempt another homebirth, or "freebirth" he probably would not be here right now, beautifully sleeping upon my breast.
I wonder how many more of US there are out there, but are just to scared to speak up for fear of being pounced on by the homebirthing believers? I am scared of nobody at this point, I will debate this issue until I die, and even then the memory of the event that may well have caused my daughter's death will live on.
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