Hand to Mouth Disease

I just ate too many cookies.

What is up with nurses? Why is eating a national pasttime? One of my favorite staff members (i.e. pro-breastfeeding and family centered care) is relocating to Boston next week. Every single night there has been a potluck in her honor. We have a potluck for just about any reason; birthdays, births, deaths, retirements, new hairdos, you name it. We eat.

Shouldn't health care workers be healthy?

I think I gained a baby on my ass this week.

Gratitude

So there is no more hope. There are only memories, memories of teal and beauty, of wide eyes and laughter, of a path meant to be walked together and now not, of instantaneous friendship and connection, of hand holding and massaging, of tears and of tears. And now more tears.

Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary. Seven years, not always easy, better for what was hard, thankful for all.

Gratitude for all our time and blessings from the universe.

Hope

Now that I work at the hospital, I see life on a daily basis. I don't get to witness birth anymore, per se, but I am a part of the melding of individuals into a family. I feel really thankful to have a job I love, one that fills my cup and reminds me that there is good to be done and sometimes I get to be a part of doing it.

These last two weeks I have been even happier to come here, and it's not just because of the air conditioning, though that doesn't hurt. In January I blogged about a friend getting cancer. Now it's August, and we are waiting for her to die.

It's kind of like being in purgatory. We can't really live joyously, freely, because we know her moment is moments away. And yet you never wish someone to die, but I think sometimes I feel like I am so ready to rid myself of the knot in my stomach and start mourning. I want to cry, sob, heave for myself and my loss of a friend, for her beautiful husband and child, for her mother and father and sister and brothers and for all the people she has touched with her grace in her life who will now have to know a world without her.

When I last saw her I very much had the sense that she had one foot in this world and one foot in the next, whatever that looks like. She said she was not scared, that she was ready to leave the pain behind and see what the next life has to offer. I wouldn't feel ready if she didn't.

Back in April my friend blogged about Hawaii, I think, and she made mention of palliative care. A mutual friend of ours who is a med student was so distraut because she new palliative care was the beginning of the end. After I talked to her I spent days in a depression about the idea of losing my friend.

I went to the beach for the weekend and I came back decided that if Julie had hope, who was I to say she was wrong? And I held out hope until the end, really I did. And now I have a new hope, a hope for an easy transition, a hope for peace, and hope that I can keep doing what I do so I can get life along with death.

Still Sweaty After All These Years

The irony of it all.

The last time I blogged was in January where i wrote about sweaty gym guy. Have not looked at the blog since then. Today the guy on the mat behind me moaned, and finally farted, all the way through a pilates class.

At least I go to the gym.

Sweat equity?

In keeping with my gym going yesterday, after I lovingly devoured the inauguration coverage this morning I went to the gym. I told myself I was going to get in 3 miles on the treadmill, with no stringency as to whether they were walked or ran. I made it to 1.75 and then someone got on the treadmill next to me. And then he started sweating. And then said sweat was flying all over the place. I could see little beads of nastiness all over the bottom of my machine.

And then some got on my face. And then I threw up in my mouth. And then I ran home and took the hottest shower of my life.

eeeew.

Yoga Soup

I went to yoga today. Going to this particular class is kind of like going to Spain. You took all those years of Spanish and yet you have no idea what a single person in the whole country is saying. I have been practicing yoga on and off for 10 years and when I go to Willow-with-the-ridiculously-amazing-body's class I feel like I can hardly even get into downward dog.

But I do it and it feels good. I try not to stare at my stomach in the mirror. I swear they tell you to close your eyes so you don't obsess about yourself. I did pretty good today. And I ran my first mile since I hurt my ankle back in June. At the end of the class they throw this magic dust around that makes you able to pass out on a cold floor after your class. I have chronic insomnia but I can always zen out after a yoga class. Queer.

When I was at the height of my relaxation I awoke to the loudspeaker. "The kids club is now closed. Please come pick up your children." Oops.

I walked in pissy and I left happy. I ate soup. Today is alright.

The Storm Before the Calm

Another one of my friends has cancer. It pisses me off that at 34 I am watching my third friend under 40 go through this. This newest trooper is just lovely, too. She has a daughter in my daughter's class. She does yoga and drinks tea. She's nice and pretty and kind and deserves something else. Cancer is one of those bastard things that messes with your feelings of comfort in the world. It's easy to say "everything happens for a reason" with the mild crappy things that happen, like losing a job or a boyfriend. It's hard to see the future now, but something better will come along that will make this all make sense.

Nothing makes cancer make sense.

In Judaism you are relieved of your religious obligations during the period of mourning between death and burial. It's almost like God realizes he's kind of screwed you over, so you are given an opt-out so you don't desert your belief systems all together. It's called Aninut-the storm before the calm. The storm is all the anger and sadness, and the calm is acceptance of a greater good. I don't look for calm, really, just a way to understand why these things happen. Because really, there's no reason. There's no justice in cancer or in Huntington's disease or car accidents or losing your parents or your children. It just plain old sucks.

Two years ago a different friend with a daughter in my daughter's class had a double mastectomy and bunches of chemo after a breast cancer diagnosis. I saw her last week with a full head of hair and lipstick and fancy earrings. I hope two years from now I see new friend with a full head of hair and a smile but probably not big earrings and red lipstick. It's just not her way.

Birth, Life, Love, Breastmilk...

I know, I know, that title does not have a ring to it. Cut me some slack, I am recovering from pneumonia.

I had to come up with something to say as I find myself in a new profession. It's hard to admit to hanging up the doula hat. Even if I never take another client or go to another birth (which is unlikely) being a doula is not just what I did. It's who I am. Which is so strange to say, really, as I always considered myself someone who would float from thing to thing forever. But after five years of tending to moms and babies, I can honestly say that the profession has intermingled with the personal. I mean really, no one does doula work for the money or the glory. It's just not that kind of job.
All the months of ignoring this blog were because I was uber focused on finding a new job, and I had no idea what it was to be. I leave my old life not for lack of love for it, but for money, honestly, and professional advancement. If I want to take over the world I have to get going! I am almost 34! In any case, I accepted a great position at a local hospital doing lactation support on the mother-baby unit. I will have the opportunity to help lots and lots of families and hopefully, after a year, will have enough hours to sit for the IBCLC exam. Pretty exciting stuff.

Note to self: do not trust "feelings"

I though it was going to be good. I really did. When I got in the car Bob Dylan and Coldplay came on the radio back to back, and I thought, gee, this is a good sign. I was feeling happy.

When we got to the hospital, mom, a young primip was already at 8! We were all elated, and I was thinking how great this was for her, that that was what the universe had in mind for her.

2 hours later she had an anterior lip. 6 hours after that she had an anterior lip. A little pit, an awesome midwife (or 2) and 4 more hours of pushing later, she had a baby girl. No epidural, lots of joy. A happy family.

Then the doc, as he was stitching up her tears, says, what's that going on with your uterus? She ended up having a uterine inversion, which for those of you that are lucky enough not to know, is a rare emergency where after delivery your uterus ends up inside out trying to come out of your vagina. It is very serious. I would love feedback from any of my midwife and doula readers who have any experience with this. So mom is rushed to the or, lost lots of blood, will be in the ICU for three days unable to see baby, nurse, bond. It's all just very maddening and sad.

This is exactly why I went to work for BOLD. The little picture of birth is just too emotionally draining.

Off to Bend to see the BOLD performance. Let me know if you'll be there too.

A new season for all

Well, tomorrow is the first day of kindergarten for the big one, and the first day of preschool for the small one. I myself am off to a birth, the first after the summer off. Looks like it's time for change for us all.

This birth feels like it's going to be good.

If you give a woman an epidural...

A doula from Minnesota wrote this hilarious spoof on "If you give a mouse a cookie." I love it!

If you give a Woman an Epidural...


If you give a woman an epidural, she'll need a big bag of lactated ringers to go with it, the lactated ringers will keep her blood pressure from plummeting when she gets her epidural, but it will also swell her tissue with excess fluid so her legs and breasts will swell and she'll be shedding water weight for days if not weeks. The fluid in her breasts will make it hard for the baby to latch on at first, so the nurses will think the baby's not able to nurse and they'll recommend some formula, just until the nursing goes better, this will probably make mom feel insecure and crappy about her mothering skills and it could interfere with bonding.

After the epidural's in, she'll probably need a catheter because she won't be moving around much anymore, and hey! she can't feel anything below her belly button anyway! If she gets the catheter, she might get a urinary tract infection to go with it.

Once she gets the epidural and the catheter, even with the extra fluid, her blood pressure might drop anyway in response to the medication she's getting, she might get some epinephrine which has the following common side effects:

Anxiety; difficulty sleeping; dizziness; fearfulness; headache; nausea; nervousness; paleness; sweating; tremors; vomiting; weakness.

If she's unlucky she might even experience these side effects:

Severe allergic reactions (rash; hives; itching; difficulty breathing; tightness in the chest; swelling of the mouth, face, lips, or tongue); fast heartbeat; irregular heartbeat; wheezing.

If she gets the fluid, the epidural, the catheter, and the epinephrine, the baby might not respond very well, so the doctor will want to know what the baby's heart rate looks like all the time, and the doctor will also want to see whether mom's contractions are strong enough to dilate her cervix, so an electronic fetal scalp electrode will be screwed into the baby's head, and another special catheter, one that measures the strength of the contractions, will be pushed up inside mom's uterus. Of course, to do this, the bag of waters would have to be broken, so that the catheter can go in. Once the bag of waters is broken, the doctor will be paying close attention to the time, because doctors don't like women to walk around with a ruptured amniotic sack for much longer than a day, even if the mom and baby need longer to birth.

When she gets her fetal scalp electrode and the intrauterine pressure catheter is in place, the contractions might not look very strong on paper, so the nurse or doctor will do some cervical exams, to see how things are going. Lots of people, from the nurse, to the doctor, to the resident, to the medical student might put their fingers up inside of mom's vagina, so they can get a better idea of what's going on. But it's no big deal how many people put their hands up there, because remember, mom can't feel it! If they put their fingers up there over and over again, mom might get sick. She might get a fever, she might even get a fever in response to the epidural! But the doctors won't know exactly what's causing it, so they'll just give her a full spectrum anti-biotic to cover everything.

And if they give her a bunch of anti-biotics over the course of labor, she might get a yeast infection to go with it! If she gets a yeast infection she might give the infection to her baby too, then the baby would have thrush, which could cause more breastfeeding problems.

Once she's got the fluid, epidural, iupc, fse, the catheter, the cervical exams, and the anti-biotics, her contractions might poop out altogether, so she'll get some pitocin. The pitocin will blast her body into labor, making her contract harder and harder, faster and faster, but it won't cross the blood-brain barrier like natural oxytocin does, which is what triggers our bodies to create nature's pain killers: endorphins, so the contractions will be excruciating and very difficult to work with.

And if the contractions are very difficult to work with....

chances are.....


She'll want an epidural!

Study Links Pitocin to Negative Birth Memories, Reduced breastfeeding rates and more

A while back I participated in a research study about 3 year olds. I was unaware of what she was researching at the time, but I found the results to be fascinating. The author, Claire Winstone, allowed me to publish it as long as I attached her email if anyone had any further questions. Feel free to pass it on.

The study found that women who had pitocin in their births had more negative recollections of their births, spent less time with their babies in the immediate postpartum period, were less likely to exclusively breastfeed. There were also ramifications for baby; babies born in pitocin births were more likely as three year olds to have trouble communicating their needs effectively and had more experiences of discomfort and insecurity. It's a fascinating read. Click here to read the findings in their entirety.

The brain giveth, the body taketh

I have no idea what that title means. What i do know is this: I am leaving for the DONA conference in 15 days and I completely forgot to submit my passport application. Thank you, US government, by the way, for requiring a damn passport to go to Canada. What happened to NAFTA? Are we really scared of Canadians? Have you met any of our northern neighbors? They are more likely to buy you a beer than attack you I am sure.

In any case, I probably would have remembered to take care of this were it not for the ligaments in my ankle that are, to use a scientific term, extremely messed up. I have been hobbling around on crutches for 6 days. Probably 3-4 more before I get to be really hot in a walking cast. At least the surgeon gave me "loose ligaments" to blame for my constant state of "falling down-ness" rather than what my husband thinks of as general spazzy-ness with complete disregard for the physical world.

This trip to BC is supposed to tell me if I want to continue to be a doula or not. I sure hope I get the passport:)

Who has time to be tired?

Or blog, for that matter? I would write extensively about how I had 4 clients deliver in 3.5 days, including one emergency section, one baby transported to a different hospital NICU than mom, 4 different hospitals and about 13 hours of sleep.....but I can't. We're having 24 people over for a Passover Seder tonight. Send caffeinated thoughts! And at least there's this: I am free to have the obligatory 4 cups of Passover wine since I am no longer on call:)

Don't I know better?

So I get a call at 3:30 this morning from B, telling me wife J (who is 42 weeks) is having contractions that are 3 minutes apart and lasting for a minute. They say they are getting ready to leave but will call when they are out the door. I immediately hop out of bed, make coffee wash crust out of sleepy eyes. 

It's now 4:49. I could be sleeping. I am typing instead. 

Like burnt toast that fell on the floor and has cat hair all over it

That's what I feel like this morning. Icky, crappy, dirty old toast. I am such a drama queen. Thank god for good coffee and itunes.

Another birth gone by way of the operating room. I have gotten so swept up in my own feelings about seeing so many cesareans that I am no longer able to say if I think it was necessary or not. All I know this morning is that the look in the eyes of a woman who has labored for a long time and is now being rolled down the hall for surgery is almost too much for me to bear. She will recover physically and mentally...but will i?

We are in the finals!!!!!

We have made it to the showcase showdown, my friends! I am sorry that I don't have anything else to say; this ideablob thing has been all consuming.

We are in the finals. We need you more than ever.

Go.Vote.Now.Immediately.Pronto.

Just do it.

Be BOLD!

Now you know I do not ask for much, faithful (or unfaithful) reader. Today I am asking for 2 minutes of your time that I know can make a huge difference!

Thanks to initial and very exciting enthusiasm, BOLD has quickly risen to become one of the top contenders for this week's finalist spots on ideablob's $10,000 contest! However, the last 36 hours will be the most intense. It isn't too late to log on to ideablob.com Registration is easy. It will take a minute. Don't tell me you don't have a minute. I am not the annoying guy on the corner asking if you have a minute for our earth, oh, and by the way, did you bring your checkbook? We just want your vote to support BOLD's quest for the March ideablob award!

As you may know BOLD is an organization that uses the arts to inspire social action, including supporting local communities for the last 2 years without asking for any financial contributions from our participants. I am the Performance and Talkback Coordinator for this fine, fine organization which has about 5 cents to it's name. With your vote that can change!

So, here are two simple things you can do to help:

The ideablob.com contest is very democratic. The 2 ideas with the most votes by midnight on Friday, March 14 will become finalists in this month's contest, which will have it's final sprint from March 22-31.

Thank you! You rock!

What a long, strange trip it's been

The last three weeks have been a total blur. Between dealing with a friends horrific loss and my own family being sick for 3 weeks, I feel like I have lost many days of my own life. Oh, and yeah, I was away visiting family for 5 days, too.

Part of this trip involved meeting up with all of my siblings and driving to middle-of-nowhere-but-up-a-scary-mountain, California to see my dad's place and meet his girlfriend.



She was very nice, fine, whatever. Then I found out she had a home birth and all of a sudden I started to like her a little more:) Though interestingly enough, that birth was her fifth and she said if given the chance (not likely, as she is 60) she wouldn't do it again. She didn't want the drugs, just the safety she felt the hospital assured her. It made me think about what I feel the most strongly about is not how any one woman in particular births, but that it is her right to have access to whatever type of care she desires. I wish the feminist movement would take birth on as a choice issue. If we deserve the right to choose to have a baby, shouldn't we also have the right to have it on our own terms?

While we were in the aforementioned small town, my dad wanted to take us to see the zoo that his "spiritual community" owns. Lots of animals that I am not sure belong in a zoo, like emus and 2 manecoon cats with their own personal shrine to their leader, which I do not understand personally as I think my cat is the least conscious being in my house, but that is neither here nor there. After we visited the "regular" zoo, we were to go see the "camel" zoo. Apparently there is some concern that the camels would be either killed or stolen, so they keep them at this hidden space way the fuck up this already isolated mountain. This drive in my rented Hyundai Elantra caused me a severe panic attack. As we were leaving I realized I could not operate the vehicle without a valium, so I gave the keys to my sister. Then she drove the car into a ditch. Over a big rock. Then we had to be towed. Lots of fun. Luckily the folks at enterprise didn't care about their cars because their inspection showed no scratches.

The small highlight of the zoo experience was that two of the camels, mother and daughter, were pregnant. The mother was due to give birth any day. The camel guy told me they birth standing up and the baby drops onto the ground. Ouch! I was tempted to camp out up there to see if I could camel-doula, but I decided sitting on the couch and drinking wine from Napa was a far better idea.

A Tragic Loss

Good god, it is every parents worst nightmare.

One of my doula sisters, partner, friend has had an unimaginable loss. Her beautiful son, Bryant, died Monday after a rapidly deteriorating lung infection. He was 6.

This is a total shock for this family- Bryant was a normal, healthy happy boy just days ago.
This is a total shock for our birth community, who thrives on life, not death.
This is a total shock for all mothers and fathers everywhere, who could just never imagine.

There is a memorial fund at Key Bank sent up for this wonderful family in the name of their son, Bryant Tennant. If you can, please do.

There is nothing to say, only thoughts of love and the hope of peace.