29 Reasons My Mom is the Bomb

Happy Mother's Day, Ya'll! 

Of course, I wish this to all women who foster their motherhood in some unique way. But I especially wish it today to my own mother. She has been my mom for 29 Mother's Days, so, in honor of her, here are 29 reasons she is the bomb. 

Zuzu and I tell my mom a happy Mother's Day!

-1-

She shaved her head.

My mom shaved her head because she had always wanted to - at the age of 50. She had always wanted to try it...so she did. That's so gutsy. 

-2-

She converted.

My mom became a Catholic 4 years ago - well into adulthood, obviously! Prior to that, she endured a long wait to enter into the Church (2-3 years?) because of some annulment issues. She went to Mass, alone, for a long time - not knowing any of the responses or without any friends. Since I was Catholic too but lived several states away, I could not be there with her. When she felt the tug on her heart, she pursued it...by herself. I find that amazing. 

Mom and I, circa 2009 when she came into the Church!

-3-

She knows how to be a mom!

My mother stayed at home with my brother and I even though it entailed great sacrifice. It wasn't easy to stay at home when my dad was starting his business, and mom went without most of the times so that my brother and I could have what we needed - or just what we wanted. She knew that love meant sacrifice and she embraced that. What an amazing example! 

-4-

She went back to school.

My Mom wanted a college degree, but spent her early years having and raising babies. She always wanted to finish school, but when did she have time? or money? She felt called to teach more children, beyond her own brood, and wanted so much to do so. Well, in 2006, she graduated from the University of Central Florida with a BA in English Literature - one year before her youngest daughter graduated from college! She made that happen and is now an amazing 9th grade English teacher. 

-5-

She runs.

A lot of people wanna-be a lotta things, but they don't follow up. Achieving goals and dreams takes hard work more than luck or motivational posters, and hard work is hard to come by these days. Except for my mom. Once again, proving to herself she could do something, my mom has run two marathons over the age of 50 - including the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington D.C. 

My mom and my niece, Katie, after running the Reindeer Run

-6-

Her laugh! 

My mom has a great, no-holds-barred laugh. She laughs a lot. It's a real treat if you can make her do it. 

-7-

Childhood Christmases. 

I had an amazing childhood, and some of my best memories are from Christmastime. It always seemed like the air was full of magic - the house would be immaculately decorated, we'd have a huge tree, all the meals were special and delicious, served on elegant dishes. We even got to drink Martinelli's out of fancy glasses! She made my Christmas dresses and scrimped and saved so I could get just what I wanted - from Santa, of course. I'll never forget getting my American Girl dolls - which cost far too much, but she wanted me to have them. She made my doll a dress to match the Christmas dress she'd made me. I'm telling you - Christmas at my house was like NO OTHER. 

-8-

Birth is natural.

I have two older sisters and was blessed to be there to welcome several nieces and nephews into the world. I loved that my mom welcomed each grandchild with joy and encouraged my sisters to believe in their ability to birth children. From the time I was quite young, my mom talked about birth in a no-nonsense way; it's something that women can do, she insisted, and have been doing for centuries. Her business-like confidence meant that I grew up believing that my body was built to have children, and birth them naturally and easily. Long before I was married, I knew a great deal about childbirth and had witnessed several. This was such a gift to me! I never had to experience the fear that many moms encounter when they have only seen Hollywood representations of birth - screaming and rude language. I always regarded birth as a natural and sacred event, worthy of respect.

Whoooeeee looking ROUGH - and Zuzu looking like an ALIEN! But here we are, 7.5 hours later, with a healthy baby (in a bathtub!)

-9-

Push Me/Pull Me

My mom has this in spades. When I was younger, I was perplexed that my mother would critique my friends or offer to help me with a teacher that was being hard on me. I (almost?) always refused these requests for help, but found it weird she was even offering. 

Now I get it. After many years, several of the friends my mom was hard on revealed their true nature. And when I thought back over my childhood, I could see they were really just mean kids - and my mom knew that. She knew that. But she also knew she couldn't make my choices for me - there was this push me/pull me going on inside of her, wanting to protect me vs. wanting me to gain independence. It was hard to learn some lessons on my own, but it's made me a better judge of character in the long run. I'm much more cautious about who I consider a best friend; I can easily count them on one hand.

-10-

Marriage is Forever. 

One thing that is evident to most people who meet my parents for the first time is that they are madly in love! Which is great - nothing makes a child feel secure like knowing their parents are in love. 

But it wasn't always this way. My parents went through some very tough years when I was a young teenager, and those years persisted. They had to work through a lot of issues and they didn't get a lot of support; I think us kids were especially hard on mom, and urged her (frequently) to consider divorce. 

I am so glad she didn't. 

Their marriage today is so beautiful, such a testament to love and faithfulness! Fully united now since my dad became Catholic two years ago, they continue to model growth and renewal within the married vocation. That witness has made a great impact on me in my own vocation, so that even when my marriage is difficult, I remind myself that it is forever. 

Mom and Dad - so cute!

-11-

Modesty is not only a religious thing.

We were not raised in a Christian home, but that didn't mean we were not imbued with a sense of the importance of some virtues, including modesty. Since my mom approached it from a secular mindset, I appreciated as I grew up that dressing modestly was not something we 'had' to do, but it was a classy choice, made with an eye towards respecting oneself. Clothes communicate to others how you should be treated and how you view yourself. As my mom drolly remarked once when I came downstairs in a risque outfit, "if you want to dress like a whore, don't be surprised when you're treated like one." 

(thanks, Mom. I changed my outfit)

-12-

You can do it! 

I know all moms believe in their kids, but man, my mom put her money where her mouth was. I don't think she thought her youngest would take her so seriously when she said, you can do anything, because...well, I did a lot. Every single idea in my head (I'm going to school out of state! to study history! now study abroad! creative writing! now grad school! theology! now law school!) my mom went along for the ride, counseling wisely but encouraging too. She and my dad always found ways to send me money to help fund my latest educational adventure...and I like to think it paid off. 

Mom and Dad, dancing at my wedding!

-13-

Parents are not your friends. 

If there's one thing my mom hates, it's the concept that parents are friends. My mom emphatically told me growing up, "I am not your friend. I am your mother." This was a liberating concept, because the relationship of a mother and daughter is far stronger than a friendship; it gives my mom and I the freedom to fight and disagree, to say the really hard things to one another. For, although you can stop being friends with someone, you can't just stop having a mom! It makes my relationship with my mom balanced; she is not there to make me feel good about myself - she is constantly guiding and mothering me. For that I am grateful. 

She might say she's not my friend...but she is.

-14-

Messing with your hair too much usually makes you look stupid.

My mom did not let me cut or dye my hair until I left her house. Okay...slight exaggeration. I was allowed to cut my hair when I got a bit older, but she never approved. Actually, she still doesn't like it when I cut my hair...but anyway. She made a valiant stand against me looking like an idiot for much of my high school life, and let me embrace my natural hair color. I am very glad I didn't spend my early teens frying my hair into blonde submission, as I may have been wont to do. 

-15-

No bull. 

My mom doesn't pull punches and she doesn't like small talk. She says what she means, and she is working on making her blunt manner a little less, ah, painful. Although sometimes hard to hear, I appreciate it now because it's rubbed off a lot. One of the most frequent compliments I get is that people like that I am a straight shooter; no bull, no frills. Ask an honest question get an honest answer. It's a quality that is harder and harder to find.

-16-

High standards. 

I wasn't allowed to use 'like' as a filler. I couldn't half-ass a book report. I wasn't allowed to read the Boxcar Kids any more when I was capable of reading Shakespeare. My mom had high standards for me - standards many parents might classify as 'too demanding' or 'over the top'. But she knew me. She knew I would get lazy academically, that I would let myself be less than I could be. And she wasn't going to let it happen on her watch! 

My standards are so high, I could only have married Mr. O.

-17-

Kindness counts.

I was pretty naturally empathetic as a child, but I went to school with a lot of entitled, bratty, rich kids. My mom made sure I knew that she would not allow any child of hers to become rude and unkind. Kindness mattered to my mom; treating people with dignity and respect was an integral part of her personality. My mom always gives people the benefit of the doubt, and has a real Southern charm about her kindness to others. I love that about her.

-18-

Don't be a silly girl. 

This, of course, did not apply to toddlers - but to me as I became a young woman. My mother abhors young women who act like idiots when they are clearly bright and capable. So she did NOT put up with any of this trait in me. If I got hysterical over a bug or put on airs, oh man, I felt the sting of my mother's condemnation! 'Stop that,' she'd snap at me 'you're acting ridiculous.' Does it sound harsh? It was. And I am so glad. I have an ability to control how I react to things, I am generally calm and in charge of my emotions. I like that.

-19-

Your body is nothing to be ashamed of.

My parents being hippies, they were a bit libertine about my sex education. But the greatest take-away from all this was that my body was good. My mom was not shocked by me walking around naked as a toddler...or a school-aged girl. There was no hurry to cover me up because oh my gosh, I was naked! She would tell me to put clothes on, but it was never in a tone that was disapproving - it was brusque and matter-of-fact, the perfect way to deal with children. In talking to me about sex, my mom was honest and forthright. 

Loving my body - by playing rugby. 

-20-

This is none of your business. 

When I got older I realized that my mom's hair was not actually jet black and curly...shocker! She had been perming and dying it for years. I had no clue. When I asked her why she never mentioned that she got her hair done, she replied simply "it wasn't any of your business." At first I thought that was so rude - why wasn't it my business?? But now I look at it and see how great it was that my mom had boundaries. My mom did not feel the need to lay bare her entire life and justify it to me, her child. That was not part of being a mom to me. And now being a mom...I get that. There are parts of my life that just aren't any of my child's business! 

-21-

The home is important.

I know that might sound like a 'duh', but it seems that for a lot of families today home is just a place to sleep. It's a stop-over between sports and parties and dance and school. Home is not a place that anyone wants to be. But it was for me as a child. My mom put so much work into our home, and it made such an impression on me. Our home was warm and cozy, filled with good books and nice little corners to read them in. We spent time there, together, as a family, doing family things - games, dinner, reading stories, talking. Our home was not just another place; it was THE place, the touchstone of our family. I loved our home, and so did most of my friends. 

Grad school dinner table, filled with roommates and friends

-22-

Food is love.

I loved coming home from college because my mom would stock the house with everything she knew I loved. She would make the dinners she knew I enjoyed or take me out to eat. When it was my birthday, she'd make a big deal about me choosing the meal and getting all the things I liked. Food...food is such a wonderful way of caring for people. To feed them - such a Eucharistic way of love! Mom understood that deeply and her meals over the years have communicated her deep love for her family.

-23-

Don't get a dog if you can't care for the dog.

I know this sounds weird but I know a lot of people who get a pet, decide 'whoops! not for us!', and back to the pound the poor pet goes. That really ticks my mom off. When I was going to get Blackacre, she was really upset because she insisted that if I get a dog, that's it - that's a responsibility like a baby, she said (which I laughed about at the time, but I now I see she's totally right). She insisted that I treat animals fairly, and that's something I look for in people - the way they treat animals. It says something about a person, the way they treat a being smaller than they are, one who relies on them for all their needs. 

Blackacre, who went as a rugby player for his first Halloween in my house

-24-

Education of children is the parent's responsibility.

Man were my parents dedicated to my education. DEDICATED. They sent us to private school even though they really couldn't afford it, then when they couldn't find a school good enough they founded one with other parents! Private, public, parochial, homeschool - my mom was not afraid to try anything to see what would be the best education for me. She took responsibility; my education was her priority. She didn't just put me in a school and hope it worked out, wait another year, see if the next teacher is better - she was very proactive and made changes if it appeared it wasn't working. 

Obviously it worked. I love learning. 

Dad, me, and Mom at my graduation from Marymount

-25-

Your choices determine who you are.

My mom emphasized to me over and over again that we are who we choose to be. That emphasis on free will and self-determination helped me to realize when I had made a mistake, that I could choose better next time. It's led to a self-improvement streak a mile wide, but one that I am very grateful for. I never have any doubt that even if I am not the woman I want to be, I can get there - one choice at a time. 

-26-

Makeup is best subtle.

I don't remember my mom wearing make up, except for lipstick (always a shade of red/red-brown). But when she did, it looked so...natural. It was so very becoming, but never overdone. It gave me the courage to enjoy being 'made-up,' but to never feel naked without it. And now when I see young women - very young women! - walking around with makeup slathered on looking like clowns, I am so grateful that my mom limited my make up use as a girl...thereby protecting me from some truly embarrassing pictures later on.

-27-

Apologize.

My mom messes up a lot because she's really blunt and doesn't have a lot of diplomacy (sorry Mom; that's what you have Dad for). So she apologizes. This is a recent thing, I might add, but it's really beautiful to see. It's easy to be stubborn in relationships where we are older and more experienced, but my mom's example has taught me a lot about humility and being willing to own my mistakes.

-28-

Children are gifts.

My mom loves kids. Not unlike me, she seems to like children more than adults. She delights in every age and stage, although she claims her favorite is toddlerhood (who says that??). My mom is so good to affirm women who are having babies, especially my sisters and I, and to affirm that every child is a wonderful thing, even when the circumstances of their conception or birth were less than ideal. 

Grandkids!

-29-

You are a good mom.

I am lucky to have many positive people in my life, but my biggest cheerleader is my mom. And that really hit home when I became a mom, seven whole months ago! The one thing my mom told me was that I was a good mom, and I had to trust my instincts. She has reiterated that over and over again to me, every time I call for advice (which...is a lot). She'll give me advice and then add "but I'm not the expert on Zuzu - you are. You're her mom. Trust yourself." Her confidence and obvious pride in my mothering helps me to relax and mother however I feel like. 

I could go on and on, but I'll stop here (reluctantly). My mom is the best mom (for me, as Amelia points out in her great post). God knew what he was doing when he sent me to her and I am so grateful to have her in my life still, to keep guiding and mothering me as I find my own way. 

I love you, Mama. I always have and I always will. 

Susannah's Birth Story

The Week Of
I woke up the week of Zuzu's birth, on Monday morning, and just felt different. I told Tom that before Monday, I would have told anyone that I could be pregnant forever - I felt great! But woke up on Monday and felt ready. I also had my first real contractions on Monday and continued to have them throughout the week, inconsistently.

We had our 39 week appointment that Thursday, where Sam (the midwife) double-checked to make sure  the babe was head down via ultrasound. Everything looked good and we joked with the receptionist Braidy that we'd probably see her at the same time for the next three weeks.

That same night was Faith and Wine, a fun monthly event at our parish that I help put together along with a great group of ladies. I was running registration, as usual, and really enjoyed seeing and chatting with a bunch of people I hadn't seen in a while. I was in good spirits, didn't even mind repeating over and over again my due date and how I felt. After a great event, Mr. O and I watched the debate (ermagherd that was awful) and then hit the sack. 

The Beginning

Early Friday morning, I felt a big contraction and shifted positions to get more comfortable. Then, water - water everywhere! I sat up and told Tom to turn on the light, just saying "water there's water!"Just like the movies, my water broke in one huge gush - quite the dramatic start to labor. I had all this adrenaline as I stared at my soaked  sheets (mentally saying, these need to be bleached...) and thought, this can't be it - she can't be EARLY. But I reminded myself that water breaking, although a sure-fire sign of imminent labor, does not mean that I'm going to be having a baby anytime today even - I knew Sam would be comfortable with labor taking even 24 hours after my water broke, and that my body might be slow to labor since it was my first time. 

I called Sam who said to keep her posted and call back when contractions were 5 minutes apart - or, and this was highly emphasized - when I felt I needed to come in. In our conversation she really focused on how I felt; "do you think you need to come in, or are you okay at home?" she asked. I was so worried about being the first timer who was so sure she was in labor and ended up coming in too early, when I was only a few centimeters dialated. So I told I felt good at home and she was cool with that.

I took a shower and tried to process the reality that this is happening! I even told Tom not to cancel his plans for the day - I was sure it would take so long! I planned my day, decided I would spend it doing all my last minute chores - cooking, baking, cleaning. Our washer and dryers were scheduled to be delivered between noon and four, the workers were coming to finish putting on our new roof...maybe we'd head to the birth center that night, I thought. I downloaded a contraction timing app and wanted to get going with my day...except after an hour, my contractions were about a minute long and two minutes apart! Tom pointed this out and I was in total denial. "No way," I said. "The app must be broken." Tom was obviously nervous and pointed out that as long as I was pushing the 'start' and 'end' button at the right time, then no, it was not broken. Whoops! We called Sam, who assured me that if I felt ready, I could come in,  ran Blackacre to the neighbors, and off we went. 

Active Labor at the Birth Center

The rest of the day seems like a blur, but I can remember some parts distinctly. The ride to the BC was painful; sitting really hurt me. I offered up that pain for all of my friends who struggle with the cross of infertility. I had meant to make a list of those to offer up my labor for, but that was one of the many things that did not happen before October 12! I had wanted to pack an image of the Blessed Mother to take with us, bake cookies for my midwife and birth assistant, compile a list of people to text with the news...but none of that happened! I even had to pack my bag right before we went.

When we got there, Braidy said to go on back but the tub wasn't ready yet. At that point, I was already beyond wanting to talk to people; I just nodded and made my way back to the Ocean Room which I had requested. Thankfully, no one else was in labor at that time and they don't have office hours on Friday, so I was the only gal in the whole place!

I tried to sit on the birthing ball, but that hurt like the dickens! I tried to lay down, but that was worse. I paced around the room with my eyes closed, not talking. I asked Tom to see if I could get in the tub yet - he came back and said yes, Sam didn't want to check me especially since my water had already broken. I shucked my clothes off and was in there pronto! Braidy put on hypnobirthing music and labor progressed for the next three hours fairly uneventfully. I laid on my back in the tub and rode out each contraction by letting my hips free-float in the water (the tubs are humongous), because feeling any gravity on them made me think they were going to break in half. I labored in total silence for that big stretch of time; I hadn't even talked to Tom much. He was behind me doing light touch massage and I did tell him that when I raised my pointer finger, I was having a contraction, so that he would stop touching me during that. He also put a cool cloth on my forehead and neck, until I decided it infuriated me!

For almost the entire labor, it was just Tom and I in the room. My mom was on her way, Jen was on her way from North Carolina, my sister Kim was on vacation in North Carolina, my other sister was working, my father was at a funeral in Georgia...where was the huge group of family I had always planned on having at my birth!?! But I didn't really have the mental space to be upset about who was or wasn't there; I was unable to vocalize anything or even think about what was happening. I wanted to talk to Tom, but I couldn't - if I did, it felt like I would come out of a trance and the pain would overwhelm me. I had to stay in my head - it was the only place that I could be in control.

At one point, it got really bad. With a couple of contractions, I yelled out and felt a bit hysterical. Trying to stay in control, I told myself "You have to do this now because you're here - you don't have any other options. But I promise you this, if you make it through, we'll never do this again - next time we'll have a planned c-section or get an epidural or whatever! But we'll never do this again." But I was starting to worry - how far along was I? How much longer would it last? I wasn't sure that I could make it if I was only at 5 or 6cm. I came out of my trance and asked Tom to get Sam. When she came in, I told her I wanted to be checked and she readily complied. I almost started sobbing with joy when she announced, at almost noon, that I was 9 centimeters! My mom was still an hour away but I didn't care - I knew at that moment that I could make it, the end was in sight. 

The Big Push

Very shortly after that, I felt my body was ready to push, but I was not. I was not mentally ready to push - once or twice my body took over and made me push, and it felt like it broke me, I cried out in pain and nearly lost control. So I stayed in my reclined position in the tub with my hand on my forehead, my index finger pressed on my right temple. I had two lengthy conversations - one with my daughter, and one with myself (both completely silent and totally crazy feeling). To my daughter I said: "I get it - you're ready to come down the birth canal. But I can't help you yet. I will breathe and not resist the contractions, but you need to work your way down on your own. When you're close, I'll help you - but I can't help you just yet, okay?" I took a shorter contraction as her assent. To myself I said, "You can't focus on what's happening down there because if you do, you'll fall apart. Stay right here in your head and focus on this finger [the aforementioned index finger] - if you do that, you will be okay. You have to live in your head right now because the rest of your body is a really awful place to be." 

So I did. Finally, Abby - the birth assistant - strongly suggested it would really help if I could get in a position where gravity was working with me. I really didn't want to move, but I knew I should. I knelt and leaned my arms and head against the edge of the tub. My mom walked in the door at 1 pm and I had just gotten into that position. Pushing was very hard for me; it was here that I became vocal. My cries reminded me of what women in labor sound like in movies - in the 1800s! After each contraction, my body would shake and shake. I kept my head down against the side of the tub; I had no idea who was in the room, but I heard my birth playlist "Calm" fill the room and was grateful although also annoyed - why did I think music would really help at all!? I kept talking to the baby, in my head, as I worked through pushing. C'mon sweet girl, we can do this. When I reached a finger inside, I could feel her and knew she was so close - I wanted to rush, but knew it was bad for me. So I tried to take my time, even though I wanted it to be over - I wanted it to be over so badly. I was not proud or eager; I was not excited to meet my daughter or be a mom. I needed the pain to be done. I suddenly felt so tired. 

Arrival

Crowning seemed to take such a long time. Forever really! My mom was right there and although it was not the group of women I had envisioned, a chorus of female voices talked to me after each contraction. "You're doing so well - it's almost over - you'll be holding your baby soon - keep going mama - you're so strong." The birthing assistants, Abby and Alexis, along with Braidy the receptionist and Sam and my mom,  were all there and softly encouraging me. I heard them murmur to each other between contractions "she's doing so well - she's so close - thank goodness you made it." I wanted to yell that I could HEAR THEM TALKING ABOUT ME, but I didn't even care. I just wanted it to be over. I was begging God, begging him to help me, to make it be over soon. At one point, I yelled "HOLY - " but didn't finish it. It was going to say "Holy God" but my midwife assumed I'd be finishing that with an expletive and chuckled. "You almost cursed!" she laughed, knowing that wasn't a habit of mine. 

Finally, her head came out and I wanted to cry. Wasn't it over? Wasn't it? No. I immediately turned around to face the back of the tub so that Abby and Sam could catch her. Some women are talented enough to reach down and pull up their own babies, but I knew I was not going to be able to do that. Still, the wait between that contraction and the next two, that pushed her body out, seemed to take such a long time. But then she was here. It was only an hour and fifteen of pushing, but to me, it had felt like ages. As Sam pulled her out of the water and brought  her to me, all I could only say over and over again was "is she all right? is she all right?" I felt so tired and worn, I felt sure she was in worse shape than I! Tom was kissing my forehead and saying how proud he was of me. I was not proud; I was tired and so, so happy it was over. 

They gave me a towel to wrap around her and keep her warm. Tom and I stared at her, in wonder, and then we sang to her - the Salve Regina. The first song she heard.

I'm sure the rest will come out in more detail, but we had quite the wait for the afterbirth (three hours, actually), and I had to have an IV because I was dehydrated. I passed out later because I overheated, giving my mom and Tom the scare of their lives. I am fine; so is baby. 

But as I held her in the tub and stared at her face, I thought "I can't remember what other names we considered..." and so we settled on our favorite, Susannah. Susannah Marshall, born at 2:12pm on 10/12. She weighed 7 pounds, 4 ounces, and was 20 inches long. She appears to have blonde hair. Start to finish, my labor was just over 7 hours long.

I am overwhelmed with gratitude for my short labor, my healthy baby, and my beautiful life. 

So What's a Birthing Center Birth?

I have really been digging a lot of the "hospital bag posts" to help me pack my bag, and I definitely love the talks that get real about what happens after delivery - and what to do in the weeks before birth! But there is a lot of advice I have to discard because I am going to be in a birthing center, not a hospital. I have found a lot of my friends are very surprised and don't know the difference between a hospital birth and a birthing center birth. So in case you were curious, here are some things that differ...

1. There are a lot fewer interventions, checks, and general "requirements." Most midwives will not check to see how dilated you are until you are over 40 weeks and some won't ever, unless you ask. The reasons for this are usually because they don't want to introduce bacteria into your vagina and because they don't want to put you on some sort of "timetable" or make you feel pressured; the baby will come when the baby is ready. Midwives do not even talk about induction, unless there is a real medical need. That means no automatic induction is you are "over" your due date. My midwife won't talk about induction until you're over 42 wks, unless you bring it up. Also, there is nothing you have to do when you birth there - no IV, no fetal monitoring, no vaccines, no eye ointment after birth, no...nothing. There are options for most of these things (my BC does not offer the Hep B vaccine for instance but does offer the eye ointment), but they are always asked and never presumed.
Oh - there are no restrictions on eating and drinking during labor. But most women don't feel like eating in active labor anyway, from what I hear...

And you might give birth in water, if you want to - or at least you can labor in it. The weightlessness often helps women to labor, because they feel less pressure. 

Amanda Greavette. 

2. You don't stay overnight. In BCs, most moms and babies head home about 6 hours after birth. Because BCs do not administer major medications with the attendant possible side effects, there isn't really any reason to keep mom and baby longer. In my BC, I can stay for up to 24 hours - but it would be unusual that it was necessary. After a natural birth, women are of course tired, so usually they stay long enough to nap, eat, and freshen up. Then, it's time to go home!

3. You have to bring your own stuff! Unlike a hospital, a birthing center does not care for people long term. So there's not a cafeteria, usually there aren't vending machines, they don't give out those famous mesh panties, or provide diapers or a paci for the baby. Pretty much everything you need, you have to bring. They have a fridge and freezer available, so you can bring tons of food and snacks to store there for your after-birth meal; or ask friends to bring you food! And there's no nursery either - the assumption is that when baby falls asleep, you'll nap too, and probably in bed together.

Again, the incomparable Amanda Greavette. 

4. Less bureaucracy. At a BC, there is no "checking in." Most BCs are fairly small operations, so you probably are on a first name basis with everyone who works there - no need for ID, although I'm sure it's in your purse anyway! You walk in, they greet you, and tell you which room to go to (there aren't usually more than 3 or 4). You have already paid up front, so there's no need to bring your insurance card, and there's no paperwork to fill out until after the baby is born and you've rested, eaten, done whatever else you want. Also - you don't change nurses or doctors or anyone else; the midwife and her assistant are the ones who will help you through your labor and birth for the entire time - even if you have to transfer to the hospital.

5. Visit away. There are no restrictions on the number of visitors you may have, either in the room or at the center in general. If you want a huge party of people, go for it; if it's just you and the hubs, that's cool too. But since you're not there for very long, the visiting window is pretty small...!

This is what one of the rooms looks like at my birth center

6. You can feel neglected. At my first appointment with my midwife, I felt a bit ignored, honestly. She was fairly quiet, asked very few questions, asked if I had questions...but it was a short appointment and most of it was silence. To this day, my appointments are basically the same, except I don't feel ignored: I come in, go to the bathroom and do my "bathroom routine" - weigh myself and test my urine. Then I come out, report the results to the midwife, and she asks if I have any questions. If I do, we talk about them; if not, she then listens to the baby's heartbeat via doppler, takes my blood pressure, and measures my uterus. She'll alert me of anything upcoming (GBS test, glucose test, both declinable) and sometimes ask about preparations (make sure I get a car seat). Then it's over! Our appointments are usually 20 minutes or less. Now that we know each other more, we enjoy exchanging small talk and pleasantries and she's more than willing to shoot the bull.
At a birth, it can be as disconcerting as that first appointment. Midwives do not stay with you the entire time you are laboring at the BC. They come in and check on you, but they assume the birth is progressing normally - so they leave you with your support people to labor. For most of your birth, you are alone with whoever you brought (doula, husband, mom) until - you feel the need to push, you have a question, she has a question for you, or maybe she wants to check on the baby (doppler again). For many women, this feels like neglect; they are used to having labor managed and monitored very closely. It's just different in a BC; the philosophy of birth assumes that if you've had a normal healthy pregnancy, then labor will progress naturally on its own in most cases and that there's no reason to behave as if it won't unless and until there's an indication.

That's all I can think of for now. So if I'm up and blogging again the day after birth, it's not on hospital wifi!

PS As an update on Blackacre, we are still trying the meds and did a few more minor tests. His condition doesn't seem changed, worse or better, really. We're still crossing our fingers...thank you for all your sweet words. It really means a lot to hear I'm not crazy for being so upset about this!

Birth Matters

I was raised to believe that the best way to give birth (in a perfectly normal pregnancy without complications) is outside of a hospital, with midwives, and without medication. Everybody's family has values - this was one of mine. I was blessed to witness my sisters' give birth, one in a birthing center and the other, due to complications, in a hospital. I grew up secure in the knowledge that when it was my turn to become a mother, I would do as they had done - I would give birth peacefully and confidently, surrounded by women and joy.

"Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy (Ps. 126:2)" by Amanda Greavette 

I didn't know that this was a controversial statement. 

As my friends got married and started having babies, I realized that this concept was not universal - and that the way women birth had become part of the 'mommy wars.' The way women give birth is now judged and picked apart, part of a national discussion about how we should mother. (Please note: there is no national conversation about how to father - because to father children just means to conceive them; we're generally happy if men create them and stick around, whatever their methods) 

Now there are many women trying to find a 'middle ground' - insisting that we not judge one another for the way that we brought our children into the world. Good! But in the process, some people have insisted that women not feel bad about however they gave birth - that they should just appreciate having a healthy baby. 

"Ring the bells that still can ring/ forget your perfect offering/there is a crack in everything/ that's how the light gets in (L. Cohen)" by Amanda Greavette - this piece has been often interpreted by viewers to portray an "over-medicalized" birth, or a mother who did not have her birth expectations met. 

I haven't given birth yet, but even I know this is wrong. To boil birth down to one outcome - healthy baby - is to minimize the life-changing experience we all know that it is it. It is not just about the outcome, but about the experience. Birth is a woman's journey into becoming a mother: there is a reason why it was considered so holy in ancient cultures. It is powerful. As soon as women are told how to birth or how to feel about their method of birthing, it is in some way taken from them as an experience they have claim to by right of being a woman. This is a right of passage that belongs to us. Even the Blessed Mother, archetype of holy womanhood, gave birth. This is important - how is a woman defined? Our Faith tells us it is not by her knowing a man, but by becoming a mother. Motherhood is the hallmark of being a woman, not sexual knowledge (which is why Mary is a model for both consecrated women and married women). 

True liberation of birth is realizing that we are allowed to have feelings about the birth itself. Even if a c-section was necessary, it doesn't mean that we're not allowed to mourn what we wanted - the ability to feel our body open for new life. To say otherwise is not only rude, it's foolish. For any woman who wants more than one child, a c-section can make her future child-bearing years full of difficult decisions and medical complications. And a woman who knows this may have feelings of sadness, disappointment or fear - and that's okay. 

If I end up in the hospital, I'll be bummed. If I end up with a c-section, I'll probably be devastated. But if I end up with someone telling me that I "got what mattered," I'll be disappointed - because I'm not just a baby machine, and I matter too. 

"All around me voices are ringing" by Amanda Greavette 

Prints of Amanda Greavette's art work from the "Birth Project" are available here and her website is here. Also see her facebook page here.