Peace; the True Intent of Mother's Day

In the 1870s, a group of women created Mother's Day with the following proclamation:

Happy Mother's Peace Day
Arise, all women who have hearts, whether your baptism be that of water or of tears! Say firmly: “We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies, our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.

“Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.”

From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says, “Disarm, disarm! The sword is not the balance of justice.” Blood does not wipe out dishonor nor violence indicate possession.

As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them then solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each learning after his own time, the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.

 Amazing, isn't it, that these words are as relevant today as they were 140 years ago?   So what can we do, ladies?  How can we stop the wars?

with love,

Dena

Midwife Sisters

    
      "A midwife must have a deep love for other women.  She knows that all women, including herself, are sometimes as elemental as the weather and the tides, and that they need each other’s help and understanding.  The true sisterhood of all women is not an abstract idea to her.”
                                                                                -Ina May Gaskin,
                                                                                Spiritual Midwifery, 3rd addition


             :The true sisterhood of all women" is a concept that resonated deeply with me when I first read Spiritual Midwifery, twenty four years ago.  I was single and living in NYC, far from my California home.  My sisters/girlfriends were my family.   And they still are.  Over my twenty years involved in midwifery, I have seen that sisterhood is indeed a core value of the profession.  This sisterhood is one essential piece that I love about being a midwife.  Midwives train each other, help each other, advise each other, and just plain love on each other.  Because there are just some things that only a sister midwife can understand.   There is an unspoken code among midwives, that if a sister midwife asks for help, you must do your best to help her. We treat each other the same way we treat our mothers and babies;  with respect and integrity.

    I just want to take a moment to tell about midwives who have been instrumental  along my journey.  The story of my career is interwoven with powerful midwife sisters.  When I was a student midwife at Yale School of Nursing, I trained in a midwife-run labor unit at North Central Bronx Hospital.  My preceptor, Lynn Chapman Stern CNM, was a feisty, snarky, tall blonde who had previously travelled the world by motorcycle.  Lynn made working twelve hour night shifts where I would deliver up to four babies a shift, fun.  Her clear words of advice for gently delivering the head, shoulders, body of each baby, whispered in my head for years after our time together.

        When I wanted to study home birth, Rondi Anderson CNM let me come catch all the Amish babies in her rural Pennsylvania practice for a summer.  She attended nine Amish home births a month, so in a summer I got to catch 25 babies.  She arranged for me to live on a farm with an Amish family. Hippie artsy Yale student living with kind, simple Amish family - I treasure the memories.  I would drive through the cornfields to get to births, passing folks on horse-and-buggy, with Beastie Boys blasting on my car stereo.  And of course, being a part of twenty five peaceful, uncomplicated Amish births planted the seed of Trusting Birth indelibly into my being. 

   When my family moved to Chico twelve years ago, I met the only home birth midwife working here at the time - Diane Lawrence.  Paula Emigh,  the midwife of Birthdance Midwifery, was her apprentice.  Diane welcomed me to the community with open arms.  She showed me her office and even gave me the complete inventory of her supply closet so I would know what to order for mine.  My friend Cynthia Banks CNM sent me all the paperwork from her home birth practice in San Franscisco, to model mine after.  Paula and I both began attending home births on our own here around the same time.There has never been a sense of competition between us, but there has always been backup and support.  The one time in ten years that two of my clients gave birth at once, Paula came and saved the day.

     A couple years into my practice, a young student midwife landed on my doorstep with tears in her eyes.  Jessica Mairs LM had relocated her family to Grass Valley for an apprenticeship that  immediately fell through.  Although I was unsure that I was ready, I became a preceptor for her school and trained her for the next two years.  Now she has a thriving practice in Grass Valley, Sierra Homebirth.  When I hear about Jessica, the awesome midwife, I can't help but feel a little rush of pride.  A couple years ago Katarra Shaw LM joined the Chico scene with a third home birth practice.  She and I have shown up to assist at births for each other when needed.  And here we all are together, celebrating a wedding last year. 

The Midwives of Chico - aren't we something...?

   Paula, Katarra, and I have been working together with the Chico Birth Network. Our mission has been to create better communication and collaboration with Enloe Hospital.  We have made great strides in the last two years of meetings, building bridges to benefit the families of Chico when transfer of care from home to hospital is needed.  We also meet every couple months along with our assistants and students, to peer review complicated and unusual cases.  We tell the stories, listen, learn, and advise each other.  And  feast on the most deluxe potluck brunches ever. 
    
Finally ,Yelena Kolodgi CNM and Kavita Noble CNM , Bay Area home birth midwives have given me hours of support and invaluable advice as I have nagivated my bureaucratic proceedings with the Board of Nursing. The above link directs you to Stand By Your Midwives for more info on legal issues faced by California home birth CNMs.  My beloved friend from nursing school Sarah Shealy CNM flew up from LA for the day on her birthday to attend a Nursing Board meeting and speak up for home birth CNMs.    

These wonderful women, along with my assistants over the years, Serra Wells and Amber Eandi, show me again and again, that this term "sistering" that is buzzing around the web is no joke.  I will even take it further.  Here's what i think:   Women are the weavers of the cosmic web that actually holds the world together. 

Here's to you, ladies.

   

Happy Holidays !

   December has been a beautiful month for home births.   I love my job because I am always meeting new friends. 
Here are my two latest new buddies:

     Babies born in the Christmas season remind me that we are all precious, we are all miracles, we are all Children of God, if you will.   Every birth reminds me of the holiness of each human life.  May we all work together to bring Peace to ALL children around the world, and bring HEALING to our planet, the Mother of us all!

Okay, and on a lighter note, check out these Holiday Cookies for the Midwife who has Everything, baked by new Mom Ninette Daniele, whose son is in my arms in the above picture:

See you in 2016!

warmly,    Dena

September 2015 Update

Dear Friends,

     Thank you for your support while I have navigated a complicated legal situation between myself and the California Board of Nursing. In helping me, you help the cause of womens rights during pregnancy and birth, and keep access to health care options for the families of Chico California.

     There is still not a “final outcome” to this journey, but I do have some updates I would like to share. First of all, the donations I received from the Chico benefit concert in May and the Gofundme website have covered my legal expenses and the fines I am to pay the Board of Nursing. My family and I are deeply grateful for the relief of such a stressful financial burden.


  But beyond that, this outpouring of support has  rejuvenated my strength and my spirit.  Over the summer I spent a few weeks camping with my family.  I had quiet hours to sit by a rushing creek under green old growth trees in Oregon.  I finally had time to take in what a tremendous showing the Chico community made, when I reached out for help.

   I thought about the benefit concert - the hundreds of people who came out and donated and celebrated with me.  I thought of the 126 people who made online donations to my cause.  126!   I remembered the sight of our crew of mamas, babies either strapped on or else still inside round swelling bellies, working all day to put on a party full of flowers , art, music, food, drinks, and silent auction.   I know it was not for me, in an ego or personal sort of way.  It was for me because of I am Chico's home birth nurse-midwife.  It was a showing of love for myself and also for  the families I have cared for over the last ten years. 

    Your response to my call for help has re-inspired me.  I see how important my services are to the people in my community, and how much Chico values home birth midwifery.  I won't give up!  I will to continue to stand up for the rights of women and babies to have safe, gentle home birth experiences.    I thought I would close my business this fall, because I was feeling exhausted and defeated.  But thanks to all of you, I have changed my mind, and am still helping families.  Just last night, with the bright Super Moon shining on us through the sliding glass door, I welcomed a beautiful baby boy into the world.

    Statewide, there are  positive steps being taken improve the situation for nurse-midwives in home birth practice.    AB 1306 has been tabled for the year, but it unanimously passed the State Assembly, and will be on the ballot again in 2016. 

   In the Superior Court of California, a judge ruled that the Board of Nursing must allow nurse-midwife Yelena Kolodgi to continue her home birth practice while on nursing license probation. This took a year-long battle to get her back to work after her probation began, but hopefully sets a precedent for other midwives (such as myself) placed on probation.

Thank you for standing with me, and with Chico California mothers and babies.

Warmly,


Dena Moes RN MSN CNM

A Tale of Two Cords

Dear Readers,

       Over the years I have been very careful to avoid criticism of our local hospitals in my words, and in my blog.  I am grateful to have safe hospitals nearby for those times when we need them.   My intention with this post is to bring to light an issue that is important , and needs to change.  Remaining silent in order to avoid sounding critical does not actually serve mothers and babies.  
     This post is  about  the baby's umbilical cord;   when and why it is clamped and cut, and the implications of that choice for the baby.  I will briefly discuss how my own management of the cord has evolved over the years, give some links to latest research, and then illustrate some important points with a story.
     I was trained in 1995 in a busy public hospital in the Bronx.  My preceptor taught me to always check for a cord around the neck once the head was born, and then "reduce" it,  meaning pull it over the baby's head, or clamp and cut it if it was so tight that I could not.  If option B happened, then we had to hurry to deliver the rest of the baby quickly as the baby's oxygen had just been cut off.  The cord, mind you, is what delivers oxygenated blood to the baby from the placenta in utero, during the birth, and if the cord is left alone, for several minutes postpartum.  During my studies I also learned about the myriad benefits of delayed cord clamping for the baby.  For a detailed explanation of those, please read this . Then I learned that in the hospital, when a baby is born compromised, and not able to start breathing on her own, the cord is cut right away so the baby can be rushed across the room to be resuscitated on the warming bed.
       When I began attending births at home many years later, I quickly realized that home born babies have this brilliant advantage:  If the baby is born compromised and not breathing, the cord is left intact, delivering oxygen to the baby just as it did in utero. The midwives resuscitate the baby right there beside the mother.  The first time I did this, I was amazed at the difference that I saw.  In the hospital, distressed babies are blue or grey in color as they lie on the warming bed, their lifelines severed so that the nurses can work on the other side of the room.  At home, our little non-breathing baby was pink instead of blue, getting her oxygen from both the cord and our ambu-bag until she perked up and could start breathing on her own. 
     Around that time, an article was  published in the ACNM  Journal, questioning the act of even checking for a cord around the neck in the first place.  The  study interviewed midwives in the U.S. and midwives in  New Zealand, comparing  various practices.  Lo and behold, New Zealand midwives don't ever check for a cord, and U.S. midwives always do.  And guess which babies do better?  Neither;  the outcomes are the same.  
       My third year of homebirth practice, I attended a waterbirth for a VBAC (Vaginal Birth After a Cesarean) mama. The head was born in the water, I reached in and checked for the cord, and sure enough there was a very tight cord around the neck.   I realized that  I couldn't possibly clamp and cut it with her in the birthing tub like that, so I just let it be.  That baby was fine.  Better than fine.  He was born, I unwrapped the cord from around his neck, lifted him out of the water and gave his back a little rub, and placed him in his mama's arms, pink and perfect.  I have never cut a tight cord since. It was an "A-ha!" moment.  You don't have to cut a tight cord.  Soon after, I studied detailed intructions on  "The Sumersault Maneuver"  by which the baby's  body can be  sumersaulted past the head to accomodate a tight cord during birth. .  Over the years I have attended births with the cord wrapped once, twice, even four times around the neck, without it ever being a problem for the baby.   And I am always grateful for that lifeline if the baby needs extra help breathing. 
    There has been a lot of research lately to confirm what homebirth midwives already know; babies that need resuscitation do better if the cord is intact.  Read about this promising study of preemies here.  Read about this beneficial practice in the developing world here   Also, there are efforts to develop technologies (like a lightweight board that can be placed beside the mother Wow wow. We use a plastic cutting board at home.)  so that our State of the Art, first-world hospitals can cease cutting cords to rush babies across the room. Read about a pilot program for that here.

Let me quote from these articles :
"When babies aren’t breathing at birth, doctors typically have to cut their umbilical cords and whisk them away from their mothers in an urgent attempt to resuscitate them. The intervention saves lives, but it’s a trade-off. These babies lose nutrient-rich cord blood that can help prevent brain damage and other complications."

“There is no expense and no equipment needed. All the attendant has to do is pause, let the baby breathe and then clamp the cord,”

   I was inspired to write this post by a beautiful birth I attended this week.  Here is the Story, as promised.  Thank you Mary for allowing me to share this.

A Tale of Two Cords.

     For Mary's first birth three years ago, her plan for a home birth changed when she went post dates and we discovered low fluid levels around the baby.  We went in for an induction to her local hospital, and with a little medication she went into labor.  Mary did a tremendous job laboring all night in the shower and on her birth ball.  My assistant and I served as her doula.  In the morning she was close to delivery.  She pushed for a few hours, and fortunately the baby's heart rate sounded terrific the whole time, showing the staff that he was tolerating the labor well.  We got very close to birthing time.  The doctor came in.  The baby's head was born, and there was a cord around the neck.  The doctor clamped and cut it.  Then, everything stopped for a few minutes.  Contractions, pushing, everything.  I felt this terrible sinking feeling when the doctor cut that cord, but now nothing could be done but wait.  Several minutes went by, baby half out, oxygen cut off.   Finally the baby came, grey and limp and in poor shape.  He was rushed off to the NICU .  $64,000 and five days of pokes, pricks, IV's and oxygen masks later, the baby was discharged home, healthy.  Mary said the nurses kept reminding her how wonderful it was, that they saved her baby.  I never said a word to her about that cord, but she knew that that was why her baby had gotten so sick.  "They saved my baby from a mistake the doctor had made, and expected me to be grateful for it.  And I was, but it was really hard." 
    This week, Mary had her second baby, at home, under my care.  She went into labor just after her due date, and her labor progressed quickly.  Her water broke as she approached the final stage of birth, and once again she had scant fluid with meconium.  There wasn't time to transport for this, so we readied ourselves to help the baby at home.  Mary gave birth on soft towels on the bedroom floor.  The head was born, and the little one spit out a mouthful of meconium (which landed on my nose but you didn't need to know that).  I reached a finger in to check the shoulders and felt a tight cord around the neck.  I withdrew my finger and let it be.  Just like last time, it took a little while for the baby's body to come.  Mary got up to a kneeling lunge, and the body slowly emerged.  The baby sumersaulted himself , I unwrapped the cord, and then just watched.  The baby looked around, waved his little fingers about, and then opened his mouth a took a deep breath.  His color went from purple to cotton candy pink.  The cord pulsed away.  This all happened in that silent, timeless moment we call the first minute after birth.  It was my first home birth since my year off in India and I felt honored to witness the perfect design, the perfect physiology, that is the miracle of birth. 
   
    
   Folks, don't all our babies here in Butte County deserve this beneficial care, not just the ones born at home?  I think so.  I know so.  Perhaps we can begin bringing awareness to our medical community that it is time to update their practices.  Let's not just stand by shaking our heads.  Some ideas: 

1.  write a letter to the nurse-manager of your local hospital, including copies of these articles I have linked to.
2.  Bring copies of these referenced articles to your next visit with your OB or hospital midwife, and ask to discuss these issues with them.
3. Join the Chico Birth Network, to promote safe and gentle birth;  contact me for info.  I welcome your ideas and input.  

In a Mother's Words; A Home VBAC Story

 Here is a guest post by Chico mother Michelle Burdette

In Praise of Midwives: A joyful HBAC experience

Avery Marie Burdette was born on November 16^th in the comfort of her own home. Her father lovingly supported me through labor and was able to see his daughter’s first breath. Dena Moes and her assistant Amber guided me along the journey and delivered Avery on their knees on my bedroom floor. I feel so blessed to have had this experience and were it not for Dena and the option of home birth, I would have had to undergo a repeat cesarean section.

I distinctly remember sitting in the doctor’s office after viewing my first ultrasound and discussing my birthing options. The doctor stated that I could not have a VBAC in the hospital due to regulations. He then stated that there was one OB/GYN in town that would sometimes “let” his patients labor until it was too late for a C-section, but he would generally end up doing a C-section in most cases.

I did not like any of these options! I felt trapped, like I had no choice but to go ahead with a scheduled C-section. I saw this doctor a few more times and was very depressed about the actual birth my child was going to have. You see, I did not get to experience my first daughter’s birth at all. I had an emergency C-section for footling breech presentation. I did not get to see her until an hour after her birth. Her father was able to hold her soon after she was born, but it pains me to know that no one familiar to her was there when she was born. I wanted this birth to be different, and now I was being told that due to a policy, I could not have the birth I wanted.

During a family get-together, I was discussing this situation with my cousin’s wife. She told me that they were planning on having a home birth and gave me reading material. I told her that I did not think home birthing was for me, but thanked her for the information. One of the articles she gave me was written by Dena Moes, CNM. The article was all about VBAC’s at home and I was inspired by the strength of her experience and her conviction. I was overjoyed to learn that she was a midwife in Chico and that there was another way for me to give birth.

I read everything I could get my hands on and discovered so much information that I wish I had known before giving birth to my first child. Who knew that Pitocin could be so problematic? I had no idea that I could have any say in my birth outside a “birth plan”. My husband and I met with Dena and were given the great news that I would be a good candidate for a home birth after C-section (HBAC). We were very nervous because this was outside the norm of what all of our friends and relatives had chosen. My family was nervous about birthing at home and worried that something catastrophic might occur. My husband and I looked at all of the statistics and were far more worried about birthing in a hospital setting. When we told people that we had decided to have our baby at home, people said things like: “you are so brave”, and “Aren’t you worried?”. Only a few people voiced their support.

We met with Dena throughout our pregnancy and with each meeting felt so blessed to be getting a home experience. We would meet in Dena’s office and there was a flannel sheet on a comfy table with a real pillow! There were no metal stirrups for your feet, no hospital gowns and no one pushed me to get testing done due to my advanced age of 37. I felt comfortable and like pregnancy and birth were natural, not fraught with peril. It was a gentle and holistic experience. We also attended a child birth class taught by Serra Wells that supported home birth as a viable choice. It was so helpful to meet others who had chosen home birth.

The day before my daughter was born I went to my regularly scheduled appointment with Dena and she informed me that the contractions I was feeling were the real deal and that we would be having our baby soon. There was no sense of emergency, just warmth and excitement radiating from Dena and Amber. This was so reassuring that I was able to enter labor with joy and confidence. Dena and Amber were very supportive throughout labor and the birth of our daughter. They helped guide me through the final stages of labor and calmly helped our baby into the world. Avery took a little bit to breathe, but Dena cleared her lungs and gave her a little puff and she cried her first little cry. With a home birth, the umbilical cord remains attached to the baby and the placenta until all of the blood has returned to the baby. This allowed Avery to remain at my feet receiving oxygenated blood rather than whisked off to a table in a delivery room. I was able to hold my baby right away and experience all of her first moments. This was so incredible for me as I did not get to be with my first daughter until she was an hour old.

Dena and Amber remained with us for several hours after Avery was born, unobtrusively checking us to make sure we were both doing fine. A defining moment occurred when Dena was helping me after I took a shower. I was still a bit unsteady and she actually dried my legs off for me. I can’t imagine a hospital setting where a doctor would deliver your baby, fix you breakfast and then dry your legs after a shower! I was so pleased that Dena and Amber would be back to visit us several more times in the week following Avery’s birth. I did not feel alone or abandoned as I had after the birth of my first child. I owe a great deal of thanks to Dena for allowing me to trust my body and the process of birth despite a prior C-Section. Our home birth was a beautiful and powerful experience. My husband and I are very grateful to Dena for providing women the opportunity to birth at home and to have a natural birth after a C-Section.

Thanks Dena and Amber! Michelle Burdette and Family

Epic Birth Journey and the Midwife's Bag of Tricks

   The longest day of the year was celebrated in high style at Sacred Ways Homebirth, with one of the longest home births of the year.  Much congratulations and love to Ajay and Walker, who have given me permission to inspire others with their heroic journey into parenthood.  
    There is usually a big difference between the labor of a first time mother (primip) and that of a second or third or fourth time mother (multip).  Once you have given birth to a baby, the next one is remarkably faster and easier.  This spring my assistant Amber and I attended several multip births where we arrived, set up, hung out for an hour or so, and the baby came out.  Lovely, beautiful births;  happy families; midwife home for dinner.  Then came our first-time mama Ajay's birth.
   Ajay began her labor on Sunday afternoon.  Contractions were 10 or 15 minutes apart and Ajay did exactly what was best for her;  carried on with her day alternating between activity and rest.  She tried to "rest" at bedtime, but by then they were a consistent 10 minutes apart.  By 2 am she was uncomfortable and in a regular labor pattern, and made the call to us.  When we arrived I could see that her contractions were strong and in a good labor pattern, but that she had a way to go.  She asked if I would check her cervix, but I procrastinated and put her in the birth tub instead.  I had a hunch she was a small amount dilated, and I didn't want her to get hung up about that.  (Midwife trick #1)
    The birthing tub was just the thing for her.  She relaxed beautifully between the contractions, and moved through the water during them.  Walker got in the tub and held her.  It was dark, with candles lit.  We gave them privacy;  they got sensual and snuggly. (Midwife trick #2)  The contractions got stronger and closer;  a sign that the labor was progressing well.  At 6 am she got out of the tub and I checked her - 7 cms!   An hour later she felt "some pressure"  and wanted to get back in the tub one more time before pushing.  Two more hours of hard labor went by.  We checked again and found  - 8 cms.  That is only one centimeter more in three hours- ugh.  Ajay's progress had stalled.  I could feel that the baby's head was not down against the cervix because the bulging bag of water was in the way.  We decided to break it, which would bring the baby's head down and hopefully help finish the dilating.  (Midwife trick #3).
    With her waters broken, Ajay walked around and worked with the intense sensations.  I could tell she was losing steam.  We fed her miso soup, a whole bottle of Recharge, and put her back in the tub.  She was so tired, she started saying things like "I can't do this anymore.  This isn't working.  The baby won't come".  I knew that the baby could come.  She had in her favor:  1. The baby in an excellent position, NOT posterior.  2. an excellent labor pattern of strong, long contractions.  3. She had stayed well hydrated.  4.  The baby was doing great;  perfect heart tones, clear fluid, and movement.   But I needed to change her mindset, because I could feel that emotionally I was losing her.  I told her we would not make her do this forever, but let's give it one more hour to get to complete dilation.  I gave her a homeopathic remedy, caullophylum.  (Midwife trick # 4) Then I gave her affirmations to say with me, instead of  "I can't."  They were something like "I am allowing body to open.  My cervix is opening now."  I said it with her, Amber said it with her, Walker said it with her.  As she repeated the words, she relaxed and became centered again.  It worked.  (Midwife trick #5).  At noon there was just an anterior lip of cervix remaining.  I had her push mightily while I lifted the rim of cervix up and over the baby's head.  (Midwife trick #6) 
     Ajay is a strong woman, an Enloe  nurse I might add!  She munched some chocolate covered almonds (Midwife trick #7), downed another bottle of Recharge,  sat on the birth stool, and pushed.  She felt the pressure and she pushed and pushed and pushed.  She got up and pushed on the toilet, (Midwife trick #8) tried several different positions including standing lunges (Midwife Trick #9), and pushed and pushed and pushed.  The baby did not really budge.  At all.  After two hours.   In the hospital, this would be called "arrest of descent"  and a cesarean would be done for the baby "not fitting through".  Hmmmm.   I sorted through all the files of past births in my brain, to find one last trick.  I remembered a birth many years ago.  "Ajay, "  I said.  "Stop pushing now.  Let's have you take a break and just stand in the shower for a little while" (Midwife trick #10)  Ajay enjoyed the hot water coursing over her, and I guess she grabbed something and squatted during her contractions because after ten or so minutes alone in the shower she yelled " Something is bulging in my butt!"  Eureka - that something would be the baby!   I popped my head in, saw that progress had been made, and kept her in there another ten minutes.
     Back on the birth stool, we could see the baby's head peeking through.  The baby had come down through the bones, and was almost here.  With each push now, progress was made, although it was still slow.  We heard a deep drop in the baby's heart rate for the first time. We heard it again.  It recovered, but I told Ajay that it was time to just have the baby now.  Finally, finally, the head came through, the baby slipped right about, and Ajay's nine pound baby arrived.  He was dusky and his  breathing was labored, so we rubbed him up, talked to him, and let the pulsing intact cord keep providing him oxygen. (Midwife trick # 11) We gave him blow-by oxygen and his color turned a rosy pink (Midwife trick #12)  Once it stopped pulsing we cut the cord to take him in the steamy bathroom with the hot shower running full blast.  The hot vapor did the trick, and his breathing was easy and regular by the time he was ten minutes old  (Midwife trick #13). 
        Then Mom, Dad and Baby cuddled into bed.  Chicken enchilada casserole was warmed, and things were quietly tidied while bliss and bonding occurred in the family bed. 

  With that twinkle in her eyes and glow of her grin, would you guess Ajay had just labored for 24 hours?   Would you guess it took her 6 hours of labor to get from 7 cms to 10 cms?   If she had planned a hospital birth, she would be in surgical recovery, instead of here.  This is why home birth is important.  The truth is, women are stronger than one would ever believe.  Birth works, folks.   Now I am off call for a month, for family time.  Happy Summer!  

Emotional Freedom Workshop at the ACNM Conference

    I was blessed to attend the ACNM (American College of Nurse-Midwives) conference and annual meeting last week in Long Beach, CA.  Not only did I attend, but I was a presenter.   My offering was a four-hour workshop entitled Healing Trauma for Mothers, Families, and Midwives with EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique).
    Twenty-two midwives signed up for my workshop.  Many were directors of large practices, university faculty midwives, and pioneers in the midwife movement.  I was humbled and deeply moved by the honor of teaching this energy healing work to them.   I created a healing, sacred circle for these powerful midwives, complete with an alter in the center.  The workshop was experiential.  We learned about EFT, and then practiced healing each other.  Several of my sister midwives experienced profound healing.  It was beautiful to witness these women, who give so much of their lives in service to mothers and babies, take care of their own emotional well-being.  Here they all are, at the end of the workshop:

     Aren't happy, emotionally tended midwives beautiful?

    Two summers ago, I had the opportunity to study EFT with an internationally acclaimed EFT trainer named Sonia Sophia Illig   ...    Sonia's Website here   .  EFT is both a talking and a physical / energy therapy.  As you talk about your emotions, you "tap" on acupuncture points in a relaxing, beautiful series of movements.  This combination of reviewing your trauma and the emotions around it verbally, and tapping on the points, actually releases the trauma from the nervous system and tissues.  It is easy to learn and do, and results occur quickly.  Emotional pain is diminished  and a person feels lighter, more clear, and free.

    I use EFT in my midwife practice when painful emotions and past traumas are identified during  prenatal visits.  It is so empowering to be able to heal emotional pain, right there, in the office. Before I knew EFT I would listen compassionately to women's stories and feel frustrated that I couldn't do something to fix it other than offer referrals to therapists and healers.  Now I say, I can help you heal this;  lets do some EFT on this.  All VBAC clients must do at least one session with me. (See my other VBAC posts for more on this).
      The workshop at the ACNM conference really became about healing the healer.  Self-care for midwives is vital; we carry so much responsibility and often take difficult births or outcomes personally.  Midwives tend to burn out, and have health problems and divorce rates at record numbers.  There are little to no professional avenues to process the trauma midwives experience, and it was amazing to bring that to the American College of Nurse-Midwives.  
   A neat thing about EFT is that you can use it on yourself, and then easily use it to help others.  When you are healing others, you get healed as well.   Here is what one attendee said about my workshop:

  "Hi Dena,
I really appreciated the EFT learning session, which you offered at the ACNM conference 2012. It was wonderful. I'm a CNM who offers Home birth and Birth Center births and always love to learn alternative modalities to offer to our mama's. Attending your workshop gave me new tools for my clients but, also for all of the Midwives and staff who I work with. What a wonderful healing opportunity we now have to offer to the healers themselves.
Within days of your workshop, I was able to offer the healing modality to one of my pregnant clients. She tearfully thanked me for the comfort it provided and planned to use it at home as well, to continue with her self healing.
How empowering, I thought. Love it.
Thank you for bringing this loving modality to us.
Blessings, Lorri
 PS, you can use this as you see fit. Good luck. hugs

Lorri Walker, RNC, NP, CNM
Founder & Director
South Coast Midwifery & Women's Health Care"


  

Two Equinox Babies; Part 1

    I was blessed to attend two sweet births last week, within the three days around the spring equinox.  Both families were repeat customers of mine.  Their darling toddlers know that I helped them into the world as well.   I will share these beautiful birth stories in two posts.   
    Vanessa went first...she called me at 3:30 am on March 19th.  I rolled out of bed and was off.  She was having her third baby so I knew there was not a lot of time to spare.  I arrived at her house where she was laboring in the tub, her husband Adam by her side.  She has quick, intense labors, and goes deeply inward during the process.  I peaked in on her, and then went to set up my equipment for the birth.  Her two daughters were asleep in their beds and her mother was making a quiche in the kitchen.
     A half hour later she got out of the tub,  and I noticed some red bleeding .   It was a small amount, but noticeable.  Vanessa had had a marginal placenta previa (the edge of the placenta was located over the cervix) at the beginning of her pregnancy and had some bleeding from it at 18 weeks.  The placenta moved out of the way of the cervix as the pregnancy progressed, which we had confirmed by ultrasound recently.   I put my doppler on her belly to listen to her baby's heart rate and it was low, in the 60s, and then climbed back up to normal, 120s.   Hmmmm, I wondered if the ultrasound was incorrect and the placenta margin was being exposed as the cervix opened.  The more common reason for some bleeding and a drop in the heart rate is that the cervix is opening quickly and the baby is suddenly moving into the birth canal.   We listened again through a contraction and heard the heart rate drop down again for a minute or so.  Adam looked at me.  "Should I call 911?"  "Okay" I answered, not convinced this was an emergency but playing it safe.
   Vanessa flipped over to her hands and knees and we continued to listen to the baby, whose heart rate soon returned to normal.  The bleeding  stopped.   The heart rate dropped a little bit during the next few contractions, and then didn't drop at all.  When the paramedics arrived, they peaked into the room where Vanessa was laboring on her hands and knees on the bed while we listened to the baby's heart rate.  The head paramedic assessed the goings-on in the room, and said to me, "I see you have everything under control, just come out here in the hallway and tell me what is going on."  I was pleased with his respectful, hands-off attitude.  I stepped out of the room and gave him report; what had happened and how my concern was quickly diminishing.  He had a student paramedic with him from the community college, who was taking all this in like a sponge takes spilled milk.  "Look,"  our head paramedic said, " I can see you are making sure mother and baby are safe.  Why don't we just wait on standby in the other room while you monitor the baby a little longer, just in case."  "That sounds fine", I agreed, delighted they had not insisted on touching Vanessa, coming into her labor room, or anything.  So they hung out watching Grandma make the quiche for a half hour, then had Vanessa and Adam sign a form, and left.
   The moment they left the house, Vanessa felt an urge to push.   She put her hand over her yoni and pushed against her baby's head as it was born.  Then, pink and squawking, Baby Jackson slipped into this world and was placed on his mama's chest. His apgar scores were perfect 10s at one minute and five minutes. (meaning, he was full of oxygen and energy and vital life force)  Vanessa was thrilled and relieved, and told us later she hadn't been afraid, and hardly noticed the paramedics' visit, she was so deep in her labor.  Adam felt reassured by their presence at first , and then was relieved when they left.  I was grateful to know we have respectful, timely emergency services available to help if we need them, that are also willing to just step aside when we don't.  I called the 911 dispatcher to tell the news of the healthy birth and praise our paramedic team.  The dispatcher sounded excited, like she had heard all about this case, and promised to tell the paramedics right away.  The quiche was delicious - goat cheese and spinach.  The two older children , Kayla and Addie, woke up at their usual time and were delighted to find a new baby brother Mama's arms.   Happy Equinox!  

 

Maui and the waterbirth of Matson

  Aloha readers!

   The midwife is back, after an extended winter of travels.   I had just recovered from my travels in India, when it was time to attend Jenny and Chad's beautiful birth.  (see video below!) Then we set off on a major family camping expedition to Maui.  The Moes Family Band played at a music fesitval, Maui Mystic Island,  at the end of January.   We stayed for two more weeks, camping and exploring the wonders of the tropics.   Here we are playing our set at sunset on the beach.

   Some YouTube footage will be coming  soon.

    Speaking of YouTube, my January clients Jenny and Chad made this lovely birth video!

The Waterbirth of Matson     http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GYBoqyMaNE
  Enjoy!


Dena

Heart Meltdown at the Taj Mahal

   It's official - I have been in India long enough that my armpits smell like curry.  Really, this has happened!  Eat Indian food twice or three times a day for ten days and your body sweat becomes fragrant like tumeric and cumin..  I was sniffing my shirts to determine the need to launder them, and they smelled aromatic and spicy, instead of sweaty,  right in the armpits.  At first I figured I had spilled food on my shirts - how else could they smell like that? - Then I realzed the odor was truly coming from the armpits.  Just imagine how aromatic Indian ladies' amniotic fliud and breastmilk are...

  I miss my children.  I dreampt last night that I had left Sophia home all alone and gone to a big Chikoko gala event.  Suddenly I realized that it was 11pm already and quite dark outside.  I hadn't meant to be out so long! How would Sophia be handling that all by herself?  So I went out to the lot to get my car, and the lot was like an Indian taxi lot, cars so crammed in tight you couldn't even get one out if you wanted.  And I couldn't remember where I left my car anyway.  A feeling of urgency to get back to her came on, and I woke up.  Whew, I didn't really leave her alone;  I am in India, she is home with Adam safe and sound.

   I spent a day in Agra this week.  I was told that while I am in India, I must see the Taj Mahal.  Simply must; it is a two hour trip from Delhi.  Agra itself is known to be a bit of a pit, so I did it as a day trip.  There is a train that takes you to Agra in the morning, and brings you back again that evening.  They feed you breakfast on the way and dinner on the return.  Once at the Agra train station I hired  a taxi and driver for the entire day for fifteen bucks.  My driver took me to all the Agra sites - the Agra fort which houses the fantastic palaces of three Moghul emperors, the backside view of the Taj from across the river to see it cloaked in morning mist, and the Taj itself for afternoon and sunset.  He also took me to his "friends'" jewelry and carpet shops, (meaning he gets a commission for bringing me there) which was an annoying waste of time because I wasn't interested in buying. 

  Agra was as bad as I had heard.  It is filthy, ugly, poor.  There used to be factories here but they had to close them because the industrial pollution was turning the Taj Mahal brown.  So tourism is the only industry, and the locals are hungry for tourist money.  One is intensely hassled wherever one goes  As we drove from site to site I peered into the crowded neighborhoods.  Filthy children playing in the dirty streets and pooping on the roadside, garbage everywhere, starving dogs and cows eating the garbage, children fetching water from a central pump (no sewage or running water here) , monkeys copulating on the rooftops, men urinating , people washing their clothes on the stones by the water pump, and throngs of colorfully dressed people carrying all manner of things on their heads filling every space.  Wow.  We are definitely not in Kansas anymore. 

    The sites themselves were as amazing as the city was horrifying.  The Agra Fort brought to life the book I just finished reading about the area's history called City of Djinns.  The Moghul Empire was a brutally violent, but artistically and culturally brilliant Muslim dynasty that lasted in Northern India from the 1500s until the British took over rule in the mid 1800s.  Delhi and Agra were the seats of the Empire.  The Emperors perpetrated incredible acts of violence upon their enemies, and also on their male relatives, inlcluding their own sons and brothers, in order to keep hold of the reigns of power.  They rode around on elelphants, kept palace harems full of hundreds of women, and built palaces, mosques, and mausoleums that are some of the most beautiful buildings on this great earth.  These have remained remarkably intact despite India's turbulent history and the area's profound poverty.  When you build with solid white marble within a fort of fifty foot sandstone walls with spiked gates unbreachable even by elephants, you really are building to last...

  The Taj Mahal itself is the biggest monument to love ever built. It was built for Emperor Sha Jahan's beloved wife when she died in childbirth.  I passed through the gate of the Taj complex at three o'clock, looked out across the vast park/pavillion, and up to the Taj glistening white in the bright sun.  My breath was nearly taken away.  Yes, seeing the Taj is worth the hassle of a day in Agra.  It is the most beautiful man-made thing I have ever seen.  Pictures cannot show you what you see in person.  The giant building floats above the ground.  It does not appear to be anchored to this earth.  The pure white marble domes soar in the air.  It made me weep in awe.  I pulled my shades over my eyes, pulled out my hanky, and gazed to my heart's content.  For three full hours.  

    I found my way to a mosque off to the side of the Taj.  The courtyard in front of the mosque was completely empty except for a few muslim men washing their feet in a pond and coming in for afternoon prayers.  The tourist crowds were all in the main pavillion area.  I sat down against the wall of the mosque in the corner, covered my head with a shawl, gazed up at the Taj, and had a good, good cry.  The contrast of the bleak poverty with the stunning beauty, all happening side by side, finally caused my heart to crack open.  How can we stop the poverty?  How can we help all these children have a clean place to live, school to attend, a way out of their current conditions?  How can we clean up all the garbage?   I felt how much I love them all - every single person in India from the hasslers and touts, to the filthy children, to my sister and her sweet baby.  I want to help everyone!  

  After a while my tears turned into song, and I softly sang a tibetan mantra of peace and enlightenment to myself.  The sun began to set, and the Taj turned from bright yellow-white to soft pink.  I lingered until dark, and slowly made my way back through the pavillion.  At the gate I turned one more time to gaze.  The Taj was now dusky blue-grey in the darkening evening, mist from the river rising around it like bedcovers.  I pulled myself away, back into the taxi, and then to the fly and rat-infested train station to await my ride back to Delhi.

  I don't have answers to the poverty and suffering, neither do the Indian people.  But now my journey will take a spiritual turn, and perhaps some greater understanding will arise.  Tonight I go to Varnasi, City of Light.  This town has been the holiest site for Hindu pilgrimage in India continuously since 600 BC.  That is 2600 years of pilgrimage!  Hindus believe that to come to this city , do puja on the banks (called ghats) of the river Ganges, and then bathe in the river, will remove you from the suffering world and bring you to Paradise.  I have a hotel room booked right on the river above one of the main ghats for three days.  When Mark Twain visited Varnasi he wrote "Varnasi is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend.  It looks twice as old as all of them put together."  

  Then I will travel on to Bodh Gaya, the place of awakening,  where the Buddha attained enlightenment.  You can sit under the Banyan tree that is the grandaughter of the one the Buddha sat under. It is said that just to sit there brings one close to enlightenment.  .Buddhist pilgrims come from all over Asia and the world to be there.  I am hoping some of that enlightened energy will rub off on me,  so I can bring it back to the family and community that I love, and the women and babies I serve.   This will be my last post from India - offered with love.  Namaste!
  

A Wedding in the Blue City

    I just had a mad-wonderful three days in Jodhpur, in the heart of Rajasthan beside the Great Thar Desert.  Jodhpur is called the Blue City because for hundreds of years, the homes have been washed in Indigo to keep them cool and bug-free.  The city sits at the foot of a hill on which a giant 17th century fort sits, looking over everything in majestic glory. 

 

  A nice feature of Jodphur is that the streets of the Old City are so narrow and winding, that cars cannot get through.  Thus, a pedestrian has only the cows, motorcycles, and bikes to contend with

 

    Or, for a real blast, one can ride in a tuk-tuk and be the queen of the road.  You see, on India streets, the biggest thing wins, and everyone else must get out of its way.  There is no waiting and allowing pedestrians to pass first.  It has taken me a while to learn how to walk through the congested bazaars and not feel nearly run down by motorcycles and tuk-tuks racing through.  But I am getting the swing of it.  And after a day of walking about, hopping in one of these and racing through the streets myself is a blast. 

    As I tuk-tuk through the streets, there are so many sights, sounds, and smells all around me, I feel like I am on some exotic Disneyland ride.  Mr Toad's Wild India Ride.  I cannot describe the sheer volume of it all - there is nothing in America to compare it to.  A friend said, as we laughed at the absurd bedlam of our shared tuk-tuk ride, "India sure is lively!"  People say that when you leave India and go anywhere else, it seems like you have cotton covering your eyes, ears, and nose. Your sense experiences are that much duller, anywhere else in the world! 

A Day in the Bazaar

     Amy and I spent all morning in baby-love land.  Okay, Ananya is the third cutest baby EVER, after Clarabel and Sophia.  I know I am saying this with a midwife's objective eye.  I helped Amy take a bath with her baby for the first time, instead of bathing her in a little pastic tub thingie.  Mother and baby loved it.

   Finally she had nursed enough for the meantime and we decided to go out to a craft bizarre to do a little browsing and shopping.  As soon as we were in a taxi, pulling out of Amy's quiet back streets onto the main road way, it was like, oh yeah, we are in India! My eyes were again working at warp speed to take in all the amazing sights flashing by us.  People pulling ridiculas loads on bikes, like ten mattresses piled on top of each other, little markets and stalls, crazily careening auto-rickshaws, food being cooked on the street, horns blaring.  The women are all so colorful and beautiful in their saris and salwars.

  My sister took us to a special bazaar that only the Indians know about.  It is not in the Lonely Planet guide. It is a government-regulated market, and it costs 20 rupees to enter (40 cents) so that keeps beggars and touts out.  All the stalls are run by the artisans themselves, with crafts and beautiful things from all the different parts of India.   Crowds of beautiful Indian families were there to shop. It was festive and colorful. Ananya happily slept in her Baby Bjorn as we walked around.
     My sister can look at things and say, these shirts are from Lucknow.  These things are from South India.  They make these in Kashmir.  She also has the ability to dicker and discuss in Hindi with the shopkeepers, which came in handy.  Everything was already very inexpensive but she bargained everythng down . Every time I was about to make a purchase, no doubt at the 'tourist' price, she walked up and spoke loudly in Hindi and suddenly 300 rupees were knocked off the price.   It was impressive, to say the least.  I am not much of a shopper, but it seems I will make an exception to that rule during my visit here.  And I will definitely do my big purchases with Amy-ma at my side. 

    Women do not breastfeed in public here so my sis is naviagating how to manage being out with her baby.  We found a quiet corner in the back of the food stalls where she nursed her discreetly and we ate corn roti and almond ice cream. My sister will probably become Delhi's first Lactivist.  She can be an example to the middle class professional women who do not breastfeed their babies.  Her friend told her that only the beggar women nurse their babies in public. 

      There are no big box stores in India.  None.  No walmart, no Target, no drugstore like Longs or grocery store like Safeway.  Everything is picked up at little markets and bizarres.  In a city of 9 million people, isn't that amazing?  That is one of the reasons that Delhi feels like a village - no strip malls!       What India does not have in 'things',  it makes up for it in charm and character.   I wonder how long they will keep the big box stores out....

that's all for now,
Dena

     

Passsage to India

I decided to come to India the day my sister's baby was born.  The preparations were a whirlwind;  expedited tourist visas, vaccinations, gathering baby things for her.  I would be coming alone, leaving my dear hubby and children safely having their Chico Christmas season without me.  Then all my November mamas supported my travel efforts by ALL three giving birth ahead of schedule,  within a crazy four days.   At that point, I got to move my trip up by almost a week!  
  In the days leading up to my departure I would start crying at random moments, just thinking about how excited I was.  Truth is, I have ALWAYS wanted to come visit India, but it had never seemed like the 'right time'.  First, we had no money, then we had babies, then we had no money AND babies, then we were buying a house...then.. then...then. 

    I hadn't flown overseas in more than a decade, since before Bella was born.  I was a bit anxious, but mostly just excited.  When you are used to traveling with kids, going on a trip by yourself is just ridiculasly easy!  I am tuning in with my old backpacker-adventurer self, who globe trotted in her early twenties, now twenty years ago!

  My travels all went smoothly, except for the fact that I did not really 'sleep' on those two overnight flights like I thought I would.  More like drifted in and out of half-sleep and watched a lot of good movies courtesy of Virgin Atlantic.

  I had an all-day stopover in London, which turned into a magical, wonderful day.  My friends,  Sonya Sophia, the EFT teacher and practitioner Goddess extraorinaire, and her British hubby Simon, picked me up and gave me a personal tour of the beautiful city.  Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Harrods, and all the rest.  God, I love cities filled with five and six-hundred year old buildings.  They really knew how to build them back then.  We ended up at a swanky place called the OXO tower on the Thames and had the best meal ever with fabulas London views.  A three-course lunch that included a delicious bottle of wine and the most amazing bitter chocolate mousse that has ever passed these lips.  Lack of sleep, who cares!!

 Late that evening I caught my flight to Delhi.  I already felt like I was in India just at the Heathrow gate.  There were only a handlful of non-Indians on the packed flight.  Food was Indian, and instructions were in English and Hindi.  I got all weepy for the last time ....no really, am I REALLY going to India?  Oh my, I really AM going to India NOW.

   I envsioned a bustling megapolis crazed scene at the airport.  Actually there is not a whole lot going on at the Indira Ghandi International Terminal.  Just a few flights a day, I think.  The vibe was way more like when I landed in the Soviet Union in the late eighties. They have built it, but not many have yet come.  Very chill, enormous buildings,  mostly empty.  I gathered my bags and headed outside. There, I saw a huge crowd of people packed around the exit, waiting for people.  It looked a bit...intimidating..  And there was Amy's driver waving at me, holding a sign that said 'Dena,  welcome'.  YES!  

   A few minutes later we were on my first Delhi road.  Oh SH*T!!!!!!    There are no lanes, there are bike-rickshaws, auto-rickshaws which are motorcycles with  tin-can bodies that can hold riders in it, trucks, cars, buses, people walking, more cars, and even a family riding on an elephant.  Yes, I saw an elephant walking along the freeway.  Everyone is swerving around the slower movers, and EVERYONE is constantly blowing their horns.   Everyone is driving on the 'wrong' side of the street, which is disorienting.  The steering wheels are on the 'wrong ' sides of the vehicles!  On the sides of these crazy roads, cows are sittings, packs of women in colorful saris are carrying big trays of things balanced on their heads, children are playing, little stands are selling things, lots of people are just standing around, and the horns are blaring...and on and on.   Did I mention the horns?


  Delhi is more like a sprawling collection of jumbly ancient villages connected by insane roadways than a cosmopolitan city, at least from what I have seen so far. Delhi has been a city since 2000 BC and there are bits of the architectural remains of each time period here and there and everywhere.  We took a walk in a park with beautiful Moghul tombs from the 1500s.  There are lots of trees, and lots of birds with strange screaming bird songs.  Parrots.  The sky is the smoggy color of LA skies circa 1975.  My sister's neighborhood Defense Colony is a quiet little back street zone. It feels peaceful and very old.  The cook comes in and prepares homemade Indian food in her kitchen every day.  yum!

  now I am holding a sleeping baby so Amy can get a bit of sleep.
Cheers!,
Dena

Destination Delhi Doula

Dear Readers,

   Three and a half weeks ago, a miraculas birth took place in New Delhi, India.  My sister Amy Kazmin is a foreign correspondant  and has lived in Southeast Asia for over a decade working for the Financial Times of London.  She is an amazing writer, and passionate about covering events with empathy and compassion for all peoples involved.  She has had incredible adventures and an illlustrious career in her 44 years of life.  As fufilled as she has been by this exciting life - there had been one thing she longed for - a child.
  This summer, Amy informed us she was expecting, already 5 months along.  She had waited to tell us because she could hardly believe it herself.  She feared that at her age things could go wrong.  A few months later, on November 10, she called me from Delhi to Chico complaining of gas pain in the middle of the night.  I spoke with her for an hour, feeling a bit suspicious that it was something more than gas.  When she called me back an hour later, she had thrown up and  was shaking a bit, and moaning that she must have eaten something 'off',  I asked her to please call her doula NOW!   While on the phone with the doula, her water broke.  The doula arrived, realized Amy was in advanced labor, and helped her pack her bags.  A wild ride to the hospital ensued, and the baby's head was crowning when she arrived  Thus my 44 year old first-time-mom sister had a quick, and nearly painless birth.

Here is the lovely Ananya Rachel, a genuine beauty as only a half-Jewish half-Indian baby can be:

  And now I am here with her.  I have just traveled to the exact opposite side of the planet so I can show my dear Sistah how to burp her baby, swaddle her tight, and wear her in the sling  I wore my babies in.  I can hold my dear new niece while Amy showers and takes care of herself.  I can reassure her that Yes, it is normal for the baby to nurse a million hours a day.  Ananya is a darling little sweetpea and Amy is doing a great job.   This is the best postpartum doula gig of my life!  (I will get to travel around and see a bit of India while I am here too). 

  To follow my India adventures over the next couple weeks, stay tuned!

With Love,

Dena

100 Births

    A few weeks ago I attended my 100th birth as Sacred Ways Midwifery.  This is the first business I have ever owned, and I still remember how nervous I was six years ago when I took this leap, letting go of receiving a steady paycheck to pursue my true passion..  Fortunately, Chico was ready for more homebirth options,  and the beautiful families came to seek my assistance and keep on coming.
  One hundred births feels like a milestone in my practice.  When we talk about birth,  we often talk about risks of things as "x" in a hundred.  Now looking back I can see what has happened  in 100 births.  For example, I've had 1 baby who wouldn't turn to head down and was born at home as planned breech.  (We had a whole team of midwives for that amazing birth) .  I've had three other babies  who were breech at 36 weeks that we turned to head down before labor. 
   I've had many women in their forties, and one of them had a  baby born with Down's syndrome.  I've had one baby born with a cleft lip and palette, whom we syringe fed with breast milk overnight until we could get the special feeder in the morning .  The baby arrived before me a couple times, mama in labor less than an hour.  I've had one baby that required several minutes of help starting to breathe, and three others who just needed a couple breaths.
  I' ve enjoyed many repeat customers.  What a joy to see a family through the birth journey more than once!  I've had many women come to me after having hospital births, wanting something different.  I've had many first time mommas.  Not a single set of  twins yet but at least a third of all women ask me at the first visit, "Could I be carrying twins?"
  My 100th baby belongs to Heather.  She is a repeat client, whose strapping toddler Conner I saw into the world two years ago. Her sister- in- law Sarah has also had two lovely births with me.  Heather lives an hour away, and I drove  swiftly to her home on a hot August afternoon,  remembering that she was ready to push by the time I arrived with Conner.
    Sure enough, she was ready to push again when I arrived.  She pushed and then said that something doesn't feel right.  I decided to check her and see what was going on.  When I did vaginal exam I found that she was completely dilated but it was not a head I was feeling!  " The baby is breech " I said.....then I checked again.  Well, maybe it is a head... but not the right part of the head.  I felt around and felt a soft mound ....of....maybe it is the baby's privates?     No, it really feels like head...  Eyeball?  Nose?    In a hundred births I have NEVER been unable to tell what part was coming down!.  In the hundreds of other births I've attended as nurse or hospital midwife I've never been unsure like this!.   I didn't want to hurt anything so I withheld from poking too much.  Heather rested on her side while we talked about her options.  I knew that this not-knowing needed to be taken seriously.  We were a good 25 min from a hospital, down winding country roads. After another brief try at pushing, we decided to go in.
    When we arrived at the hospital,  the OB checked her and said " the baby is breech!"  Then he felt again...."the anus?  The nose?  Oh!  It bit me! It is the mouth!"
   Heather's baby had decided to come out MOUTH first.  This is what that looks like:




   The odds of this happening is about 1 in 600.  Doesn't look very comfortable for the little one, does it?  In fact, pushing in this position puts strain on the neck and can damage the head, neck and spine.  Peyton was born by cearean section to save her little self and courageous Heather took it all in stride,  grateful that we transported  when we did and that her baby was safely in her arms.  She was back home within two days, baby nursing like a champ.
  One hundred births and never a dull moment.
   

Homebirth Photo Essay

    Greetings!  Today's post is short on words and long on lovely images.  Here are some photos of Toni Rae being welcomed into the world by parents Kristin and Chad, and big sister Charlie.   These are not labor photos but shots taken immediately after the birth, and then two hours later, during the newborn exam done on the bed with the family.  These pictures capture one of the benefits of homebirth - after the hard work of birth, the family is in its own comfy bed to relax and take in the joyous miracle of their new baby.  No strangers coming in and out, no machines beeping or nurses taking the baby to assess, wash, or "warm".  Just uninterrupted bonding time.  Enjoy!

Welcome Baby Toni!   She is placed right into her mother's arms, where she gives a good cry to open up her lungs.

Happy father embraces them both.  Note the bliss on Kristin's face as she admires her new daughter. That look of utter delight often accompanies the completion of natural childbirth, a combination of "yes, I did it!"  and "Oh!  What a love!"

Excited sister Charlie loved seeing her baby born!  She sat right beside me as the baby emerged.

Now a weepy Grandma takes a look... "did that really just happen?  Right here?"

Kristin responds to her baby's cues that she is ready to nurse.  This image shows how cozy the family is as the baby enjoys her peaceful first hours of life earthside.

After the initial cry, home-born babies are usually alert but relaxed, taking in their new environment from the warmth and safety of mother's chest

"Oooh...that is what those are for!"

"My turn!"

Giving the baby a thorough exam

includes weighing

and measuring

and footprints...

and finally a first diaper

Definitely a keeper!