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!  

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 Palace, a Bollywood shoot, and an Opium Tea Ceremony

   The morning after the wedding was a slow start at Hem Guest House. I was the first up, and did some yoga on the rooftop.  Our tired hosts (who had come home at 4am) managed to put together chai and toast, and I went off to sightsee for the day.  I spent the day in the fort above the city.  The palace in the fort was the home of the local Maharaj for centuries.  There is still a Maharaj today but he lives in a newer palace on the edge of town.  He and his family have lovingly preserved his ancestral palace and created a fascinating museum within in it .  The museum has art and royal artifacts from the 1500's on.  An audio tour that comes with the ticket explains everything, and tells  anecdotes and stories.  The Maharaj himself speaks on the tour, explaining things.  Here are some pics pulled off the web of the palace.

    What was not part of the regular palace tour was this - a Bollywood movie was being filmed at the palace that day.  There was a cavalry of medieval soldiers, some on horseback, some carrying giant spears and swords, bloodied and wearing full medieval Rajasthani armor,  being filmed marching into the palace complex.  There were medieval princes and princesses watching them from the palace steps.  There was Bollywood music blasting during each take. After the tour I sat in the cafe drinking a lassi and watching the actors.   It was a lively addition to the palace visit.
      I had a mellow evening at the guest house, and had dinner with some folks visitng India from Singapore.  It was interesting to learn about Singapore, which is an English-speaking country full of Chinese, Indian, and Malaysian immigrants.  The next morning my new friends Ering and Peng joined me on a jeep tour into the rural villages outside of Jodhpur.
  This activity known as "Village Safari" brings foreigners into traditional rural villages to see how the craftspeople make their wares using centuries-old technologies.  It is brilliant - it costs tourists just a few bucks, is a fascinating experience, and gives us a chance to buy the crafts from the families that make them. This provides them a living so they can continue to live in their traditional ways.  It was lovely to get out of town, into the trees and fields, and dirt roads.  The simple lifestyle of the villagers was just as I imagined.  Whitewashed mud huts with thatched roof, outdoor kitchen cooking over a fire, food grown and then stored in large clay pots in a cool storeroom.

no microwave oven here!

     These are pictures of a Bishnoi house.  The Bishnoi are a Hindi sect that are known for being especially respectful of nature.  They will not cut down trees, only take dead branches.  The area in which they live is full of healthy, beautiful trees, and antelope and happy cows.  Three hundred years ago, the Maharaj sent his army into the Bishnoi village area to get wood to make his palace doors.  When the army arrived to cut down some trees, a woman ran out and hugged the tree to stop them.  India's original Julia Butterfly.  Except then they cut off her head.  So her three young daughters ran out to hug the trees.  Their heads were also cut off.  After 62 Bishnoi heads had been cut off , the Maharaj caught wind of the problem.  He ordered the army to stop cutting heads, came out and apologized profusely, and promised to protect Bishnoi trees forever.  The subsequent Maharajs have maintained this promise.
  Opium has been used in this area for centuries.  It is not smoked, but taken as tea.  The maharaj would give opium tea to the soldiers before marching them into battle.  That way, they would be braver,  having visions of Paradise, and if they were hurt, they already had pain relief on board.  The Bishnoi people drink opium tea as part of their rituals as well.  We were privleged to participate in an opium tea ceremony at the Bishnoi home we visited.  An ancient vogi prepared it by straining it through cotton filters, and praying and chanting over it.  I am a "when in Rome" sort of girl, so while my friends politely declined, I tried some.  He poured it into my right hand to drink. It tasted very bitter, but I sure felt relaxed and happy for the remainder of the safari...
   We got back to Jodhpur in time for a big meal and then catching my night train back to Delhi.  Now I am here regrouping and taking long shifts of baby-holding for my sister.  I have certainly forgotten how busy it is to have a one-month old baby.  This baby likes to be held all the time...isn't that a shocker!  Tomorrow I am off to Agra for the day to see the crown jewel of the Mughal Empire - the Taj Mahal.  Then on Thurday I will take a night train to Varnasi on the Ganges, the holiest city in India. It is Shiva's birthplace, and where Hindus make pigrimage to bathe in the holy river Ganges.  From there I make pilgrimage to Bodh Gaya, where the Buddha attained enlightenment. That will about just wrap up this India adventure.

Cheerio!

  

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

An OB and I work Together: Tracy has the VBAC of her Dreams

    Tracy had the birth of her dreams on Friday.  She did this at our local hospital where such a birth, a VBAC, is banned!   She came up with an amazing plan, and it worked out magnificently.  This plan included hiring both myself and an OB.   The result was an unprecedented collaboration between myself and someone who has been hostile towards me in the past.   Let me fill you in on the details!

     First, a little of Tracy's story...   Tracy's first birth was the typical hospital induction that went awry and ended in cesarean section.   Baby was posterior.  She was induced with pitocin.  She needed an epidural.  The baby never rotated.  She pushed for five or six hours, numb from the waist down and  on her back.  Not feeling the contractions, her team had to scream "Push!" for her when contractions showed up on the monitor.  Rolled into surgery finally.  The drugs from surgery gronked her little system so the first hours with her baby were just a blur, she can't even remember them.  The first weeks were a misery of  surgical pain, drug-induced fog, depression, and breastfeeding problems.  She was shocked this had happened to her - her mother, grandma, and aunt all had easy natural births!  She felt betrayed by her doctor, and upset with her husband and mother for not protecting her from this.  She felt guilty for having such emotional turmoil around her birth experience, even though she got her healthy, beautiful baby.  "My first birth was the worst experience of my life." She wanted her second to be the best.

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.
   

The Midwife Returns and the Revolution Unfolds

Dear readers,

 It has been three months since my last post... I have been offline and out of town for most of the summer.  This is by design, as I take time off midwifery during the summer so that the people known as My Family get my full attention.  We took a month long camping trip up to Oregon and Washington.  Spending time with my husband and kids in beautiful, natural places with no schedules, no interruptions, and no place to be but Here, Now means the world to me.  Being self-employed we happily trade income for quality time.  And what a time we had!  


We got into some hot water   (hot springs galore):

some white water:

and then the salty spray of the beautiful Pacific waters:

                 

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!

The Little School that Could

   Many of us in the homebirthing community embrace alternative education for our young ones.   If we folks are conscious about choosing how and where we give birth, it  makes sense that we will also  consider how to school our young.  Waldorf education, homeschooling, and unschooling are some examples of these kinds of choices.  My first daughter was born in Santa Cruz, California, and when she was a wee nursling tucked in my sling, I saw Rahima Baldwin speak about Waldorf education and the young child.   It was music to my ears - an approach to education that seemed like homebirth midwifery for the child's mind and heart!   Rahima Baldwin, by the way, had been a foremother of American homebirth midwifery and wrote Special Delivery, a classic homebirth book .  Then she became a Waldorf educator, and her book You Are Your Child's First Teacher is one I recommend to new parents.  I knew what I wanted for my children.
    Waldorf education weaves art, music, handwork such as knitting and crochet, reverence for nature, and movement into reading and math.  Waldorf classrooms are softly colorful, lessons are poetic, all materials are natural such as wood or wool with NO plastic, and all the children sing and learn music, including string instruments starting in third grade.  "Accept the children with reverence, educate them with love, send them forth in freedom"  says Rudolf Steiner, Waldorf founder.  All subjects are introduced when developmentally appropriate, and the wonder and magic of childhood is nourished and left intact.  
   We moved to Chico in 2002 when Clarabel was two.  Lo, and behold, Chico had a fledging Waldorf Charter School!  Charter means public and tuition free, not private.  Open to everyone, by lottery.  The school was tiny, just one kindergarten class, but it would grow by one class each year until it was K-8.  Clarabel started kindergarten there when it was K-2.  There were about 50 students.  Over the next several years the school slowy grew and blossomed into a beautiful community of families and teachers.  We moved three times as we grew.  The final move was last year into a closed-down Blue Shield Call Center that was built to look like an Ivy League campus on the outside, and was an ugly cavern on the inside.    We transformed it into a beautiful school, tore up the asphalt parking lot,  and built a playground with our own hands.  Then we had to double our school size in one year to fill and pay for this giant new space. Now we had 350 kids, and a year of growing pains as we adjusted to so much change. 
      Then, this year, we almost lost our charter.  I won't get into the details of the politics that led to this, but our charter was denied renewel by our original authorizing agency.  So we wrote a new charter and took it to the Chico Unified school board for approval.  Over the last several months we have worked hard to raise community awareness about our school, align our curriculum more closely to the standardized tests that are considered the "bottom line" to determine a school's success, and waited to see if our school would stay open.   Last night, the board voted.  After two hours of tense discussion, it was looking pretty bleak.   The first motion of the vote was to CLOSE the school!   It was quickly seconded.  Then, by a miracle, one board member stood up and talked to her peers about looking beyond test scores, to other aspects of what an education is.  She moved to give us our charter, and the motion was carried, three to two.  It was incredibly emotional.  Teachers, parents, children, all crying together with joy and relief that our blessed school would stay open.  It felt like that moment of relief when we finally meet a baby, after a long, complicated labor.  Bravo Blue Oak School, a beautiful, joy-filled school for our children, now for many years to come!

The Midwife in Hot Water

   In the midst of a busy birthing season, I have been harboring a secret fantasy;  zipping off to a hot springs resort for some solo relaxation time.  These days my practice is so full that someone is due as soon as someone else gives birth - no time off for me until July, when I don't deliver babies.  Except last week, when a tiny miracle unfolded for me.  Instead of the one expected birth, I attend two in two days - someone went a couple weeks early!  As I rolled out of bed in the dark of night  to attend this birth, I realized - hey!  I'm going to be off-call this weekend!   I was fried, but I would be free.
    Friday afternoon, I popped my little bag of snacks and my little bag of clothes into my car, and I was off on a weekend retreat to Harbin Hot Springs .  Its funny how in the midst of raising a family, even the act of tossing ONE bag in the car for a trip seems so light and carefree.  My hubby and the girls would have a great weekend here in town, and everyone would appreciate a happier, de-stressed Mom!  I had known for a while I was in need of a break because everything was starting to feel heavy - the responsibilities of work, keeping house, the cooking, and the kids' activities, and on and on.  I believe in BALANCE as a guiding principle in my life - when things are big and heavy in one direction, we need to swing a little in the other direction.  Some carefree bliss was in order.
   So what did I do during this weekend away?  Relaxed profoundly.  Soaked and soaked and soaked in the hot pools.  Sunbathed.  Received a knockout massage and a Watsu treatment.  Got away from cell phones, computers, and cameras which are all NOT allowed at Harbin.  Ahhhh....a midwife not checking her cell phone every half hour, how bizarre.  I ate meals in the restaurant - organic and delicious, and had spiritual, uplifting conversations with fellow weekend Harbin-ites.  For a mother to take 48 hours off cooking and tending to others - it is amazing!  I read an inspiring book called A Woman's Worth by Marianne Williamson

You Are All My Babies

    When I was pregnant with my first baby, I had been a midwife for years already and was in absolute bliss to be finally having my OWN baby.  I loved my baby so much that my pregnancy was marked by fits of joyous laughter for no "reason", and a deep joy that came with me everywhere I went.  (once the nausea had passed, of course)  I glowed.   In my ninth month, my husband took me to San Fransisco to see a very holy Tibetan Buddhist teacher, who was staying with a friend of his.  This teacher, the Venerable Khenpo Palden Sherab, was performing sacred ceremonies for generating peace and awakening for hundreds of people.  Because he was staying with our friend, I was given a private audience with him.  Here is information on this holy man:   http://www.dharmafellowship.org/biographies/contemporarymasters/khenchen-palden-sherab.htm

  Khenpo Palden blessed me and my ripe belly, and then he gave me an instruction, which I have held in my heart as my path ever since.   He told me I must love ALL BEINGS as if they were my precious baby.   This is a nearly impossible task, but I am trying. When I remember, my heart is filled with compassion, and anger, hatred, and judgement melt away.   It is the perfect instruction for a midwife, isn't it?  And he didn't even "know" that is what I am! 

Full Moon Baby

  I am just back from a welcoming a 9 lb baby boy into the world this afterrnoon, and some post-birth weariness is setting in.  My client lives out in the almond orchards south of Chico.  She and her husband own 500 acres of almond trees, which surround their home.  They are all in bloom right now - trees covered in pale white-pink flowers as far as the eye can see.

    Last night  I went to check on her because her water had broken, and I needed to take her temperature and listen to the baby's heartbeat.  I drove out by the light of a bright full moon, as the dark rainclouds parted like curtains around her.   Mother and baby were fine, so we all got a good nights sleep and labor began this morning.  When I arrived this morning, my client was running a mild fever.  This was concerning because with waters broken, it could indicate an infection brewing, which could affect the baby.  It was mild enough to not necessitate transferring to the hospital - yet. 

  My plan was to hydrate her really well, and have the baby soon before the condition worsened.   A phone call to my OB consultant, Dr Fischbein down in LA (bless his heart, dedicated supporter of midwives) gave me the confidence I needed to hold to my plan.  I started an IV and gave her a large bag of IV fluids, which worked like a charm.  When the bag was almost all run in, this Momma turned to me out of her laborland far away place and said. "Take my temp again NOW.  I feel BETTER!"  Sure enough the fever was gone.

  An hour later she squatted on a big pile of towels on the floor and in two or three roaring pushes, out came a 9 lb baby boy.   The baby breathed right away, but took several minutes to really "transition" into his outside-the-womb life.   He just seemed a bit pale and his heart rate was a little lower than usual,   Hmmm.  We watched him carefully, gently massaged and stimulated him, and gave him a little oxygen "blow-by" (holding the oxygen tubing close to his face so he is breathing more oxygen-rich air).  I considered bringing him in to the hospital to be checked out .  But after a thorough assessment and exam,  he just pulled his little self together, and was pink as a piggy, with strong tone and normal vital signs.   By then, he was about a half-hour old.  Whew, little guy!  

  By one hour of life, the little one was nursing away like a champ, and remained pink and in excellent shape.  We were brought Mexican food from my favorite taqueria and while he nursed, the happy parents and midwives sat around feasting on chile rellenos and tacos, and reviewing the incredible events of the day.  A final exam of the baby revealed a fully present, pink, alert healthy babe, and the proud mama didn't even need stitches!

  We packed up our bags, reviewed the detailed baby-care instructions, and were home by dinner time.   I will go back in the morning to check on mother and babe.  Good night!