Tummy Tub Mini-Review

When my two children were babies, I struggled through many a bath with them in a shallow little white plastic baby tub. It was hard to keep the baby warm in the water and it was also hard on my back to lean over the big bathtub to bathe them. We actually preferred sink baths (which are quite messy). Bathing together in a big tub was not an option because we didn’t have one available.

So, I was delighted to recently discover a new type of tub for infants and to receive one for review purposes—The Tummy Tub has an appearance similar to large bucket with a flared out top. It can hold a nice level of water to keep the baby comfortable, but still safe. The idea is that it duplicates some of the elements of being in the womb for babies, thus making the bathing experience more pleasant for everyone. You can also purchase a separate little stool/stand for the Tummy Tub so that you can sit comfortably with it instead of leaning over and straining your back.

I’m pleased to have this new resource available to show to my clients. During our last week of classes when we cover postpartum, newborn care, and breastfeeding, I bring along a variety of products to demonstrate and let parents see and touch and experiment with hands-on. I bring a variety of baby carriers, plenty of cloth diapers, and now a Tummy Tub as well.

You know you’re a childbirth educator when…

…you come in from getting the mail and this is what you see:

Three Hours into 1.5 Minutes??

I most often write blog posts directed at pregnant women, not birth professionals (though I hope the pros find my posts useful as well!). Via the excellent Passion for Birth blog this morning, I read this article that is very relevant to childbirth educators.

The article addresses how educators/presenters can attempt to cram three hours worth of information into 1 and half minutes and how that is NOT effective or helpful. They do so out of fear that this is their “only chance” to reach those learners (but the cramming style actually does not reach learners either).

Ugh. I found myself cringing a bit when reading because I think I have this tendency for sure. It was also relevant to me in my non-birthwork life. I am faculty at Columbia College and am teaching my first college class this session (final exam tonight!). All of the principles in the article are things I strive to keep in mind when teaching college students as well (and sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fail. The actual class is 5 hours a night—though now six, because I missed one week and made it up sequentially over the following 5 weeks of class—which makes it tricky to keep people engaged, though also gives me plenty of time not to be cramming information into people’s heads).

Anyway, so the summary of points from the article (OMG. I’m taking a metaphorical three hours to get to my point…;-) were as follows:

Learners want relevance
Learners don’t care about history
Learners want minimal detail
Learners want connections
Learners want focus
Learners want applications
Learners want practice

I remember reading somewhere else at some point (I think during my ICEA certification process), that most learners do NOT want the amount of information and level of detail that you can provide. The first three on my list above are things I find myself falling into in birth education—I tend to give lots of details and some end up being irrelvant (I don’t want anyone to miss anything!) and I do have a tendency to give lots of history, background, and overexplanation.

So, good things to keep in mind! I want to be effective, not inefficient or irrelevant. I have been thinking a lot lately about my classes and how I’d like to improve them and change them and “deepen” them. Reading this article made me think even further about my approach and what I hope to accomplish. I have this sense lately that something just isn’t “working” and I want to go beyond—stretch my boundaries and dig in further.

Simply Give Birth: A Mini-Review

Only about a week following my miscarriage, I got copy of a new book by Heather Cushman-Dowdee (also known as Hathor the Cowgoddess) to review. I have a pile of birth-related books waiting for me to review. However, I found that this soon post-miscarriage when I go to read them, my heart just isn’t in it, and I set them down again. However, Heather’s book was a different experience. Titled Simply Give Birth, the book is a beautiful collection of powerful birth stories (mostly unassisted births). When I got the book, I thought, “well, I’ll just flip through this a bit, even though my heart isn’t in it.” Well, I was instantly entranced in spite of myself. I didn’t finish reading it that week, but I picked it back up the following week and read it all the way through. What a treasure. It was very, very good and I really recommend it.

As I have briefly referenced here, I was struck by how the experience of “unassisted natural home miscarriage” parallels that of unassisted birth. Immediately after my body released my little baby, I felt strong and brave and powerful and like, “wow! I did it!” even though the outcome was not what I ever planned for or wanted. I rarely see feelings like that expressed in the many hospital/D & C miscarriage stories I’ve been reading lately and I feel happy that I was able to give myself and my baby the gift of “letting go” in our own dear home.

Reading Heather’s introduction about telling a new story about birth made me think there are new stories to be told about miscarriage as well. She says about the stories she selected for her book: “…all birth stories…prove what can be done. We can birth our babies and relish it too. We’re not stoic or fanatical, we’re mothers doing what mothers have always done, giving birth; with grace and spirit, and chutzpah, and moxie…they shared their grief, their passions, their exhaultation, and their fears. It takes massive courage to write about this most personal of moments with such candor and intensity and then be willing to share…”

Simply Give Birth is simply amazing. If hope you are lucky and find it in your Christmas stocking this year. If you don’t, or if you just can’t wait to read it, pop on over to the website and buy it ASAP!

New Blog

I am a writer by nature and I have many things I’d still like to share, say, and explore about my third pregnancy which ended in miscarriage at 14 weeks. I keep hesitating to let the words come though, because this doesn’t feel like the right place to do it. Writing is healing for me–it helps me process, to learn, and to work through my emotions and thoughts. I HAVE to do it. I’m compelled. But, I’m not going to do it here. I started a new blog here instead. I will continue to write about birth and childbirth education via this blog and I’m not keeping the two—experiences or blogs—”secret” from each other. There will be overlap and shared links, I’m sure. I’ve just realized that if I’m going to be able to share openly in the way that I wish to, I must separate those posts from business website/blog. And, I need for only those who are interested to read it—rather than being “forced” to here or feeling like I’m “dwelling” too much.

I need to separate it too so that I don’t feel as if I’m continuing to ask my friends, my Facebook fans, blog readers, and clients to show sympathy for me or try to bolster my self-esteem by telling me how “great” I am (;-D) or being sort of forced to continue to reassure me. I have really appreciated the supportive comments on Facebook, but I almost feel like my pass on telling this story is expiring to the average person and I’d rather that they only read what I continue to need to say about this of their own free will, rather than having it piped into their Facebook feed. Why not just write in my journal then? (Indeed, I did write 19 pages in my journal about this birth/miscarriage.) Because, most of the time when I write, I write to share—”gathering and sharing information” is part of my life purpose and writing and sharing about this miscarriage experience is no different than my desire to share other birth information and experiences. So, follow me as you will…

Lavender & Letting Go (Warning: Miscarriage/Baby Loss)

My life has taken a sad and unexpected turn. I was 14 weeks pregnant with my third baby and we found out on Friday afternoon that the baby had died. Very early Saturday morning, he was born at home. Though it was different in some ways than a full-term birth, my experience of miscarriage was very much a birth–my water broke, I had “normal” contractions for about two hours, the baby was born, we saw the tiny umbilical cord, and so forth. I was surprised to discover that some of the same feelings of empowerment were also present after a “natural home miscarriage” as with a natural home birth–I felt strong and brave and like “I did it myself!” as well as amazed at how well my body worked and knew what to do. We learned the baby was our third boy and named him Noah.

I have a number of feelings and observations that I would like to share about this birth experience, but I’m not sure if this blog is the “appropriate” place to do so, because this is also my business website and I don’t want to “scare” any prospective clients away by being sad. There are a lot of losses that accompany the loss of a baby and one of the ones that is hard for me is that my life is devoted to helping women give birth with confidence, strength, and joy and to embrace pregnancy and birth as wonderful events. It is sad to me to now be a source of fear/elevated perception of risk—”if it could happen to her, it could happen to me!” Kind of like I’ve become a “bad omen” instead of a source of encouragement.

 

One thing I do want to share about the birth of my third baby is that earlier that afternoon I’d received a package from Taylor’s Scarlet Thread. I had ordered a bonnet and apron from them for a Kirsten costume (Kirsten is an American Girl doll) for myself. They sent along a little lavender sachet as a free gift with my order. When my labor began, for some reason I wanted the sachet and held and smelled it throughout my labor. I also used it to kind of revive myself when I felt like I was fainting several times afterwards. I talked to the baby and to myself before I started having regular contractions telling myself and the baby that we need to “let go” of each other and that it was time to let go. During the labor, I chanted to myself, “let go, let go, let go” and smelled my sachet.  Several days later, I was reading a book about miscarriage and it had some aromatherapy suggestions in it. It listed lavender for “letting go”…

And Even More Birth Quotes

Continuing my semi-regular addition of birth quotes I’ve used on the Talk Birth Facebook page recently.

“When women understand what’s available to us at birth, then we won’t ever give that over to an ‘expert’ the birth power, the orgasmic power that’s in our bodies” –Christiane Northrup

“Women have the inner power and the inner knowledge of giving birth. There is a parallel of sexuality and giving birth. Women who are giving birth, trust yourselves. Trust your inner power. Trust your ability to give life. This is something absolutely sacred that is inside all women in the world.” –Ricardo Jones, MD

“If women experienced the ecstasy of birth, they would have the high that would get them through the hormonal changes of the next week. Your body and your inner wisdom give you that high.” --Christiane Northrup

“While many of us believe that encouraging a laboring woman to move when and how she wants to is healthier and safer than making her stay in bed, waiting for evidence that it produces better health outcomes is putting a burden of proof on normal birth that has never been applied to routine intervention.” –Amy Romano

“Pay attention to the pregnant woman! There is no one as important as she!” –Chagga saying, Uganda

“A pregnant woman is like a beautiful flowering tree, but take care when it comes time for the harvest that you do not shake or bruise the tree, for in doing so, you may harm both the tree and its fruit.” –Peter Jackson

“Can we create a world where all needs are met with dignity and individual culture is retained; where a baby anywhere in the world is born nonviolently and according to the instincts of its mother; where people progress in directions of full potential and spirit is not sacrificed; where women no longer obey, submit and apologize for who they are?” –Sister MorningStar

“If birth were a medical disaster in waiting, routine medical intervention would not disrupt the process. It does. If technology were integral to the process of birth, routine technology would improve outcomes. It hasn’t. If birth were inherently painful, all women would suffer without medicine. They don’t. The initial assumption[s] are proven faulty.” –Kim Wildner

“Having a baby [is] an opportunity to transform a life, because in the moments of labor and birth all the forces of the universe are flowing through a woman’s body…’If you have 12 babies you only get 12 of those opportunities. This is big fun.’” –Sister MorningStar

“I think that women can be just completely surprised by the change in them from giving birth—you have something powerful in you—that fierce thing comes up—and I think babies need moms to have that fierceness—you feel like you can do anything and that’s the feeling we want moms to have.” –Ina May Gaskin

“Birth has been broken. The spirit of women with respect to their innate birthing power has been broken. We can do nothing about the millions of broken births that have already taken place, but by seriously looking at the effect of fear–the powerful emotion that clouds our thinking and causes the birthing body to break down–perhaps we can keep the finely tuned, precision bodies of women whole for future generations…” –Marie Mongan

“When you destroy midwives, you also destroy a body of knowledge that is shared by women, that can’t be put together by a bunch of surgeons or a bunch of male obstetricians, because physiologically, birth doesn’t happen the same way around surgeons, medically trained doctors, as it does around sympathetic women.” –Ina May Gaskin

“In a modern world, ‘getting through’ labour without numbing or dumbing the process can be a very powerful experience for a woman, and very challenging.” –The Pink Kit

“When it comes to pregnancy and birth, we as a culture and as individuals need to wake up and claim our right to literally birth right!” --Christiane Northrup

“Birth may bring you face-to-face with your insecurities, doubts, inadequacies and fears, as well as your joy, determination, willingness and courage.” –The Pink Kit

“$13 to $20 billion a year could be saved in health care costs by demedicalizing childbirth, developing midwifery, and encouraging breastfeeding.” –Frank Oski, MD

“Let us initiate our daughters into the beauty and mystery of being strong and confident women who claim their right to give birth and raise their children with dignity, power, love, and joy.” –Barbara Harper

When it comes to birth classes, “restricting yourself to what ‘everyone else does’ will only get you what everyone else got. The numbers say this is a very sad limitation to place on yourself.” --Kim Wildner

“In the absence of the medical indication for which they were developed, birth interventions are at best worthless, at worst, harmful.” –Kim Wildner

“Let parents know that they don’t need special techniques and gadgets to give birth safely and happily. Make sure to communicate to every mother you help, that she has all the essential ingredients for a safe, healthy birth within herself. A womb, a baby, a vagina, and a few warm pieces of fabric make an excellent, complete birth kit.” –Laura Morgan

“Women’s bodies have their own wisdom, and a system of birth refined over 100,000 generations is not so easily overpowered.” –Sarah Buckley

 

 

Moving During Labor

The second Healthy Birth Blog carnival is up on Lamaze’s Science & Sensibility blog. It is a great collection of links to posts about the importance of Healthy Birth Practice #2: Walk, Move Around, and Change Positions During Labor. For the blog carnival I contributed a post/handout I made last year called How to Use a Hospital Bed Without Lying Down. We spend quite some time on the subject in my classes and I encourage my clients to treat the bed like a “tool,” rather than a place to lie down. I also encourage strategizing about ways to both meet the needs of the hospital staff for “confinement” as well as the needs of the birthing woman for mobility (so, sitting on birth ball right NEXT to the bed and monitor, instead of lying back in the bed—both sets of needs can be met this way).

When reading through some of the other links in the blog carnival, I particularly enjoyed the one at The Unnecesarean about
Women Describe Walking, Moving and Changing Positions in Labor. In the post, Jill points out “For first time mothers who have had no exposure to a birth, the time between, ‘I felt a contraction!’ and ‘I have to push!’ is often a total mystery.” How true is this! How many birth documentaries and shows (even very good ones), essentially only show a few minutes in early labor and then the baby being pushed out? What happened during the other 12 hours?? Obviously, we can have an episode or documentary that lasts 12 hours and shows every single detail, but I do think this gap means it is hard for first time mothers to really get a “vision” of what labor and birth is really like—the “long haul” picture.

Of course, that post made me think about my own births and how movement played an important role in both of them. I think it was equally significant/important for both, but since I was in labor longer with my first baby I used movement much more. In early labor, I sat on the floor cross legged with my back straight (working to keep the baby in “optimal” fetal alignment , while I ate dinner and watched a movie. Then, I walked in the hallway to see if walking would stimulate any increased contractions. I also sat on the birth ball. As labor moved on, I ONCE tried lying down on my side in bed to “go to sleep” (at the suggestion of my doctor and doula) and that was IT. I had one contraction lying down and it was the worst contraction I’ve ever experienced (both babies). I never laid down again during either birthing! No possible way! When I got tired, I did kneel on the bed with a pile of pillows in front of me and rested my head/arms on the pillows. I also spent a lot of time kneeling by the side of the bed with my head resting on my arms on it. (This was my own bed at home.) I sat and rocked in the rocking chair with my eyes closed. I sat on the floor (briefly) with the rice sock under my belly and husband sitting behind me.When I went to the birth center, I sat in the rocking chair (oh wait, I did lie down one more time, for my sole cervical check of either pregnancy/birth). I also went back to kneeling on the floor with my head on the bed. Then I gave birth to my first son in a semi-sitting position on the birth center bed with my husband behind me/to the side. (Not the position I would have instinctively chosen, I think I would have actually birthed him kneeling by the side of the bed, but I was encouraged to get up into the bed. See his birth story.)

With my second baby, I walked around (again, “testing” out whether labor was “real” and going to intensify) in our kitchen. I squatted down several times (again, “testing” and trying to “make it bigger“). Then, I sat on my birth ball in the living room. I only stayed there for a few contractions and then stood up and wanted something to lean on—I leaned on the back of the (too rocky) recliner. Then, I ended up kind of hanging on my husband for a while—my arms around his neck and my legs dropping kind of outward. I then felt “driven to my knees” and got on my hands and knees on the floor with my arms and head on my birth ball. I quickly decided I didn’t want the ball and got just on my hands and knees with my husband in front of me with his arms around me. My son was born while I was on my hands and knees in this way.

I think when women think about “active birth” or “freedom of movement throughout labor,” sometimes they think this means walking the whole time or squatting up and down and up and down, or literally being *standing up* and moving around “aggressively” throughout labor. My own experiences were “active birth,” but the freedom of movement includes being able to sit in a rocking chair and “meditate” through contractions, or resting on your knees with your head on the bed. The “activity” we’re really talking about is really not lying down-–having the body upright/torso above the pelvis.

The most important event shaping my life as a mother?

Recently, this quote from a Midwifery Today blog post came to my attention: “your birth is the most important event in shaping your life as a mother.” It has generated some pretty heated discussion and negative feelings amongst some writers in the blogosphere. Despite my intense commitment to birthwork, I stumble over the quote a bit as well. I would venture to guess that if phrased in less black-and-white terms, it would not have caused such an angry reaction in some women. Perhaps, “your [child's] birth is a very important event…” or “…is ONE of the most important events…” would have been better received, while communicating a similar idea. While I understand the sentiment and deeply agree that birth matters,  the sweeping assertion of the phrase “the most” doesn’t leave a lot of of room for personal experiences and individual variation!

I found the quote first referenced here with an insightful “rebuttal” of sorts. There is also a very detailed critique here.

I have a lot of my own thoughts based on both the original quote/blog post and on the responses from other bloggers.

It is well documented that birth is NOT just another day in a woman’s life and that giving birth does have lasting impact on women’s memories and quality of life. Those day-to-day moments with your children that several bloggers mentioned as more appropriate representations of “most important event shaping my life as a mother” are certainly important too and are the makings of a “real life,” but they don’t necessarily stand out in the memory as transformative events. Kind of like your wedding day stands out as very significant—it matters and is important and is not “just another day”—while simultaneously it is clear that the day-to-day life and love with your husband is actually more important than the wedding day.  So, while I would agree that “ultimately” speaking, your marriage is definitely more important than your wedding, I would also put forth that you are much more like to remember your wedding specifically and clearly and with specific emotion than you are to remember what you ate for breakfast with your honey-pie last weekend and that is one of the reasons why the wedding matters. Perhaps it is an issue of the mudane vs. the miraculous…

I believe you can hold the two experiences simultaneously—you can enjoy the wedding memory, while cherishing your regular old daily husband AND you can enjoy (or suffer from) the birth memory while also cherishing the daily life with the little ones. One doesn’t have to trump the other or to be “what really matters.” There’s room for lots of mattering in an every day life

I think another key is that birth is (or can be) a “peak experience” for women (and families). I want all women to have a chance to experience that. I certainly do not want her to feel diminished, unworthy, inferior or lacking if birth is not a peak experience in her life, but I also want all women to certainly be given a reasonable opportunity to let birth unfold in all its power and be treated respectfully and humanely by those around her—regardless of what is going on or the eventual outcome.

I love birth and cherish my memories of my son’s births and consider them to be some of the most transformative, empowering, and significant single days in my life—peak experiences, powerful memories—and I also feel that birth matters as a distinct (and relatively rare) occurrence in a woman life. I believe birth has inherent value and worth on its own terms. I also believe that your feelings about the birth and the baby can most definitely be separated—you can feel pleased as punch with your delightful, precious baby and also be disappointed (or super thrilled with) your birthing. One does not take from the other—you can hold the reality of both and a breadth of feelings about them. And additionally, it is not wrong to want both things—a “good birth” and a “healthy baby.” The two go hand in hand and are not mutually exclusive concepts at all (see links to previous posts below).

All that said, however, I also do not feel that my children’s births were the most important events shaping my life as a mother. They were important, yes, but I think stating with finality that the event that shapes us is definitely X—or putting a finger on THE most important event is NOT something that can be pinned down by any one person or imposed from someone on the outside of yourself. I think it varies by woman and mother and there is room for many things to be true and valuable and okay. So, perhaps your important life shaper is seeing your children decorate the Christmas tree (though I still submit that “peak experiences” carry more emotional and psychological weight that everyday occurrences). For another mother, it could be the day she gave birth to her child. Those are both okay! One woman’s feelings and reality do not invalidate or dismiss another’s.

For me, the profound shaping event was the experience postpartum with my first baby. I have never had an experience that shaped me and impacted me and SHOOK me more profoundly than adjusting to life with my newborn son. That was my journey. That was my struggle. That was my challenge. That is what dissolved me and burned me into ashes and let me rise again as someone the same but also brand new—a mother. I was not “born” when my son was born, I was forged. Made, in the intense weeks that followed his birth.

If another mother states that her postpartum was full of “babymoon bliss,” do I need to dismiss her as deluded, lying, and or possibly perpetuating a myth? No! I can hold both in my awareness—my postpartum experience was my most significant life challenge. Hers was not. Both truths are FINE! Likewise, if I decide share that my sex life post-kids is better than ever before, is that dismissed as “couldn’t possible be true? MY sex life was ruined by kids!” or that I’m somehow lying or misrepresenting the truth? No, both can be true, because we are all different women with different lives and experiences and “realities.” So, if a woman feels like her birth experiences were the most important events shaping her life as a mother, that is totally okay—and, it can be true, without making a woman with the opposite experience diminished or “less than.” Of course, the logical extension of this train of thought, is whether I (and other birth activists) can hold our birth matters truth alongside the realization or acceptance that for some women birth IS “just one day” or that it is not an important event in their lives?

I also think we can draw on powerful memories for present strength—I remember my “birth warrior” feelings and it helps me with other tasks or with day to day life. I remember the laughing, crying, “my baby, MY BABY!” moments of triumph and bliss and ecstasy immediately postpartum and it buoys me with a fresh charge of  love for the little ruffians leaping off the couch in front of me or throwing crackers all over the house.

——–

Since the “birth experience vs. healthy baby” argument is of special interest to me, I’ve addressed it several other times on this blog:

Birth and Apples

Personal Mastery & Birth

Birth Experience or Healthy Baby?

Evidence Based Care

Another Healthy Mother/Healthy Baby Quote

Birth Talk

As I have referenced several times before I have a special interest in the language of birth. That is part of the reason my blog/business is so-named—because is it is a blog that “talks birth” (as in, “let’s get together and talk birth!”), but also because the way you talk about birth matters. I have also referenced before that it was originally going to be called Birth Talk, but when I went to get the gmail address, it was already taken (by a childbirth educator I coincidentally later came to know!). I’ve come to really “bond” with my Talk Birth name and now “birth talk” sounds slightly odd to me (though “talk birth” is really the odder phrasing).

A couple of months ago, I read an interesting article by Debra Bingham about Taking Birth Back. It it, she asks you to consider–when talking about birth–how your basic assumptions affect your discourse (the way you talk about birth):

1. Does your discourse include stories about the power of women?
2. Or do the stories shift the locus of control away from women and their bodies to other authority figures such as nurses, physicians, or machines?
3. Does your discourse assume that women are physiologically capable of giving birth and nourishing their own children?
4. Or does your discourse assume that women’s bodies are fundamentally flawed and in need of medical attention and intervention?

I am frequently attempting to shift the locus of control from “authority” figures back to women–it is shocking to me how ingrained the terminology is about medical care providers (even midwives!), “letting” someone do something, etc.

And, an enormous part of my life revolves around stories about the power of women, so I think I have that one down

The prevailing social discourse about birth assumes a locus of control external to the woman and you rarely hear stories about the “power of women” amongst the general public or mainstream media. Ditto for the assumption of women’s bodies as fundamentally flawed, except replace “rarely” with “frequently.” These messages are so dominating that I think it is hard for women to really “hear” positive birth talk–it seems like a “joyful birth” must be a myth or impossible. Likewise, when a woman is striving to keep the birth talk around her positive, it can be very difficult to override the predominately negative messages coming at her from every side. I see this in my classes, “I believe birth is a natural event, etc., etc. BUT….” (followed by a  “I trust my doctor’s judgment and if he wants me to have this GTT test or this extra ultrasound to check my fluid level, etc. I guess I will do it…” comment that contributes to the “climate of doubt” in her life). There are also the woman’s own “inner voices” to contend with—I hypothesize that the loudly-shouted cultural voices about birth contribute a good deal to the “negative voice” in her inner dialog.

I don’t know any way to “fix” this  other than to continue “talking birth”–good, healthy, positive, normal, humanistic, natural, joyful birth–as widely and frequently as I can!