by MotherWit | Dec 12, 2010 | Uncategorized
I came across the above article from a Facebook friend, and have to say it left me with a dizzying sense of sadness. A woman gave birth in an MRI machine in Germany. The stated intention behind this crazy endeavour was to set up a study which seeks to examine why doctors “have” to deliver so many babies by C-section. They want to unlock the mystery as to why some women can birth 10 pounders and others have 7 pounders which get stuck. They want to understand why so many babies’ craniums are disproportionately large for their mothers’ pelvises. When the article went on to state the researchers were trying to get a better understanding of the mechanics of birth, I didn’t know whether to laugh my head off, barf, or hit someone.
Firstly, even open MRI machines, which is what this woman birthed in, are not in any way conducive to normal labour. I highly doubt she could have been any way but lying on her back. I could be wrong, but from images I’ve seen it doesn’t appear to be possible in another position. So if you are trying to study the mechanics of labour yet put a woman under a machine on her back, can you be seriously believing you are studying something that even remotely approaches normal labour mechanics? The vast majority of women in this world who have given birth normally, meaning unmedicated and largely undirected, would not even conceive of lying on their backs to birth. If the baby is trying to push that nice flexible sacrum away with his face as he begins to extend his wee head, the joints of that sacrum being suffused with lovely, bone-opening Relaxin, what kind of slap in the face is it to find that the sacrum won’t move because it’s sandwiched between his head and the bed his mother is lying upon…on her back? Mom is directed to resort to purple pushing with people yelling at her that she HAS to create intra-uterine pressure by holding her breath and popping her eyeballs, effectively turning herself into a human pop-gun. The rush and stress of all that direction and being yelled at not to yell when it is all you want to do, makes MY pelvic floor contract at the the thought of it. Purple pushing is NOT NORMAL!!!! But close off the space, and Mom may have to resort to it.
I doubt this nifty MRI machine, closed or not, accommodates the positions most women adopt during physiological labour, which are more hands and knees or crouching stances. And they will probably want to YELL as they push their babies down, and move around a lot, which is probably not great when you’re trying to get an MRI image. She will not actually be “wasting” her contractions, or “lessening the efficiency” or “be doing it wrong” if she doesn’t surrender to the needs of the MRI machine and the desires of the doctors who “deliver her”. But she will likely be made to feel like she is in the wrong, the negative emotions created by this circus contributing to some of the mess I as a doula have to help a woman process after her birth to heal from her experience so she doesn’t remain unconfident, traumatized, and subject to depression..and this is without even having birthed in a machine. Women don’t birth “wrong”. Yeah, sometimes the unexpected happens, and thank goodness for science then, but the way women adjust and adapt their bodies to the process is instinctive, and to change them is usually inappropriate and problem CAUSING. Just check out the powerful, gorgeous, loud birther of Jason Shawn in this YouTube clip. I dare you to tell this woman to shut up and get on her back because that’s the “best way”! I in no way see in this clip a woman suffering or out of control…I see a woman expressing her most authentic power, and it is pretty much the opposite of a medicated woman in a machine lying on her back. I don’t see why this kind of birth can only happen either with midwives or unassisted. Why can’t OBs hold the space for this kind of birth too? It’s obviously not like they have to do much.
http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jYp_Vh6yjM
If you observe a woman birthing and you have the attitude there is something inherently wrong with our birthing design, and you’re creating a study to determine her potential biological flaws so the people in white coats can “fix” us, I assure you, you will not be watching a normal birth, mechanics aside. Your doubt filled observations will affect the process. If you are trying to have an orgasm and you sense you’re being observed and judged, you’re going to lose your mojo a little. If you’re trying to have a crap, you have a time limit in which to achieve it, people are observing you and perhaps even commentating, would the efficacy of your bowels not be affected just a smidge? Is it not considered a common thing for gentlemen to have pee shyness when another guy stands beside his urinal? How on earth can we expect a woman experiencing an event as challenging and dare I say as sacred as childbirth be remotely normal in this INSANE context? We’re not even scratching the surface here, as there are other reasons many of the cases of shoulder dystocia and “CPD” could be occurring, such as the over use of labour stimulants, epidural anaesthesia, etc, which are all known to have a potential effect upon normal hormonal flow AND mechanics.
As a woman, a woman who knows the triumph of having birthed normally 4 times, and as a doula who has witnessed so many potentially unnecessary hospital horrors my tears could fill an ocean, this whole article did not make me execute jumpy claps at the marvels of science. It made me feel terrified for the future of birthing women, because I really think much of what this study will find is blame for the woman and her brilliant design to justify the expense and effort put into it, as opposed to illuminating the sheer arrogance and danger of trying to determine how birth fails by breaking it down and examining it right down to its smallest particle. What if we were to focus more upon the preventative benefits of nourishing the whole process, perhaps even doing a little humble bowing in the face of such Mystery…woman’s mystery…now and again? You know, even Joe Public understands that many Cesareans are iatrogenically generated. Don’t these researchers know this?! There is no motherwit here.
by MotherWit | Nov 29, 2010 | Uncategorized
The MotherWit team and I are excited to officially announce the new MotherWit Holistic Birth Doula Training, which will be taking place in Montreal, Canada. It will be 2 four day intensives, the dates being: February 17th, 18th, 19th, and 20th 2011, and March 17th, 18th, 19th, and 20th.
Having been a doula for going on 2 decades and having been training doulas since 2003, I feel very confident students will find this the most thorough training on how to begin to make a real change in our modern birth culture. By providing accurate information, supporting a woman through the emotional ups and downs of the childbearing year, lovingly and without judgement advocating a couple’s choices, and helping to create a cocoon of safety within which a couple can confidently put their feet to the path of birth and parenthood are ways in which doulas contribute to better birth experiences. We help women reclaim their innate knowing, their intuitive wisdom…their motherwit….trusting they are the experts in what they need to give themselves the best chance at birthing triumphantly.
Birth doulas contribute to the healing of a struggling birth culture, and this potential lies in remaining grass roots, true to our natures, while everything else grows rapidly more clinical and structured around us. While we learn the often challenging essentials of birth, as women we learn through story, through sharing, by paying attention to our own emotional landscapes and the feelings of others. As we build scientific knowledge, we build emotional intelligence, learning skills such as diplomacy towards those who hold different views from ours, non judgement, and active listening. Babies and nursing toddlers are welcome within our circle, as mothers should never be excluded from learning skills that support other women. If we have trouble learning women’s work in the presence of noisy babies, we have lost our way. MotherWit is about reclaiming our ways.
While we are grassroots at heart, we work within a highly structured system when attending hospital birth. It is essential to understand thoroughly what a client may expect while birthing there, and how to skillfully bridge the gap between a highly technical and grassroots approach. While we maintain a holistic approach, we strive to be non-flakey, as our real job of healing is not about preaching to the converted…it’s helping everyone feel safe within our presence by being knowledgable and compassionate about where people are coming from. No true healing will come from an antagonistic approach to birth support. Respect for all is essential. And when things make you feel powerless, which they sometimes will, we have ways to help you cope with that too.
We believe firmly in the apprenticeship of new doulas as they embark upon their new work with their hands held for awhile. It is simply not enough to say, “Here, take this information,” and expect you to have enough knowledge and wisdom to support a birthing couple, especially in the hospital system, without having seen a big sister doula in action a few times. To truly understand the scope of our practice and the strength of the space of safety we hold for our ladies to birth within, it takes time. It takes observation without pressure, and a safe space in which to process witnessed birth experiences, and ask many questions. MotherWit provides the opportunity for apprenticeship.
What some former students have said about the MotherWit Birth Doula Training:
” I could not have picked a better guide to lead my journey into finally claiming my life’s work: empowering women in their birth choices.” MT
“You are enriching so many women’s experiences and opening the doors which enable women to find their truths.” KdeJ
“Thank you so much for encouraging me to come and helping to facilitate what I needed to do for my own healing. It’s more bearable when there’s someone willing to stop justifying and just agree that sometimes ‘that just sucks, dude.’ Absolute heart felt gratitude for your teaching and support.” KO
“Thank you for being our teachers, our mentors, and our healers.”LT
We are very much looking forward to seeing you in the new year.
If doula wannabes in the Toronto area are looking for some doula training, let us know, as this summer we’re hoping to travel to your fair city.
For doula organizations or experienced solo doulas (30 plus births) who are interested in providing excellent mentorship to future doulas, MotherWit also provides a weekend workshop in being a MotherWit Birth Doula Mentor. Embrace the art of teaching apprentices, and share the wisdom of your experience, woman to woman. We will travel for a group of 10 or more.
Have a wonderful week!
by MotherWit | Nov 23, 2010 | Uncategorized
Phew!
This has been an intense past three weeks. I attended six births, several of which were extremely challenging. I opened up the MotherWit Doula Care Centre, which meant a lot of shopping, building, painting, decorating, and all those little things it takes to make a space for parents and babies as warm and welcoming as can be. Obviously, I had a lot of help with that, and owe endless gratitude to Lewina and Sesch for sewing, Millie for painting and cleaning, and Steph for cleaning and furniture building. Most of all, I thank my husband Mitchell, who does every single little thing I don’t have time to do, can’t figure out how to do, or don’t anticipate is necessary. It takes a village to support a doula. Also, I began a new series of MotherWit Birth Essentials Prenatal Classes, and prepared for the MotherWit Postpartum Doula Training, which entailed creating a 100 page training manual in 2.5 days (my apologies for wonky editing to all my students who are now discovering it). Lastly I taught, with the assistance of Millie Tresierra(MotherWit Postpartum Doula extraordinaire), the training itself. Any of you who have ever given 4 full days of training know how much energy it takes to hold that space and give what is needed in the time you have. There was the added emotional stress of having a mother who has been having serious health challenges (though all seems to be fine now, thank goodness).
So again, Phew.
Sometimes as trainers, it takes our own trainings to make us see up close and personal how we don’t always walk our own talk. While all of these things I had to do were necessary at the time, it was only during and after the training I realized a few things. One thing in particular I noticed was the overwhelming amount of praise I received for working at such a manic pace. I was being congratulated for all the energy I had, and there were encouragements to keep on going. And to be honest, my ego sucked all that praise up to fuel the fires of insanity. All those who bestowed praise upon me had nothing but the best intentions in mind and at heart, and I do thank them for their appreciation of my efforts. But next time anyone sees my running around like a manic chicken with a newly missing head, sit me down, make me some tea, and tell me what I’m doing is crazy.
As those who have trained with me know, I am not just about giving information on how to help women have and mother babies. I craft the trainings within a framework of acknowledgement of how our culture is severely wounded with regards to the fundamental feminine experiences of birth and mothering. I see doulas as healers of this culture, bringing about balance as we illuminate other potential paths to our ladies, helping them to reclaim their motherwit, their intuitive, innate knowledge about their bodies and ways to tend to their babies. It is nothing new or magical, simply a reminder of what they, in their heart of hearts, already know. We seek to bring choice back into the hands of the woman and her family, empowering her through providing information and offering her emotional support as she finds the confidence within to make choices about birth and mothering appropriate for her and her baby. We trust the mothers in our care deeply, when others may try to erode their confidence about their instincts or attempt to lead them away from their most personal beliefs.
In order for the doulas I teach to be able to facilitate this empowered choice making and hold hearts full of non-judgemental support for those choices, I strongly emphasise doulas take their own emotional healing into their own hands, making regular personal time for reflection/meditation/journaling/etc. a requirement.
Our postpartum doula training introduced the coiffed, perfectly made-up, uber-Pilated, jauntily caped and leotarded vixen we referred to as SuperMom. She’s quite a character, is SuperMom. She can, as the 70’s commercial for some perfume used to brag, “bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, and never ever let you forget you’re a man”. We may laugh. We may swear we are not like her at all. Oh, dear ones, but we are. Her June Cleaver facade may make her pretty, but her intention is to enslave us all.
SuperMom is the energy which spurs us to take up crazy feats. She is the energy which says, “you have just given birth. Your baby is sleeping. Excellent, that gives you time to clean the house, send thank you notes, do your exercises so you can fit into your prepregnant jeans in record time to make your friends jealous, and meal plan.” Our inner wise Grandmothers, who have always known the key to postpartum healing is rest and nourishment, may give us a little extra bleeding or plugged ducts as a sign it is time to slow down and be present for ourselves and our babies. “Nonesense!” cries SuperMom, eshewing the wisdom of Grandmother. “What’s a little plugged duct? Suck it up and keep going!” So new mothers put these signs aside and slog through the fatigue and discomforts, slaves to the ideal of “woman who is the highest achiever after birth is the best.”
We know intellectually this pushing ourselves isn’t healthy. We know in the deep wisdom of our bodies this hyper productivity is damaging. Yet there is guilt when we don’t live up to the SuperMom ideal. Our mothers tell us, “When I had you, I was alone all day and managed to get everything done. Your father always had dinner on the table waiting for him and a clean house. We didn’t go running to you every time you cried like all you new mothers do today.” When we are running on fumes alone, our plugged ducts threatening to blossom into mastitis, our bleeding giving way to hemmorhage, SuperMom spurs us on, hidden in the voices that tell us how AMAZING we are for all we are achieving, how ENVIOUS everyone is of our energy and accomplishments. And wow, you just gave birth! I wish I could be just like you!
It’s of no matter to SuperMom you have feelings of deep sadness about your birth experience if it didn’t go how you’d hoped. The voices of Supermom assure you there is nothing to feel angry about or grieve over because, after all, you have a perfectly healthy baby and that’s all that matters. The blues Grandmother sends your way to dampen your spirit so you will stop and look inward for answers are ignored, and your feelings go farther and farther underground, your truth depressed.
I want postpartum doulas to bring wisdom into a culture of insanity, embodying the voice of Grandmother so her words are louder than those of SuperMom, who, underneath all that makeup and washboard abdominal muscle is a newborn mommy needing someone to validate her strength and power as well as nourish her vulnerability.
As the training went along, I realized how active SuperMom has been in my life these past few weeks, and how much pride I took in her using and battering my body and mind for her own single-minded purpose of total control over everything, perfectly executed. My plan after the training was to jump right back into work and see all those clients ASAP who couldn’t POSSIBLY do without me for one more day, thinking how much better a person I was for believing rest is a luxury, or simply for the lazy. Silly. Thank goodness my wise students were strong channelers of Grandmother, and in that spirit I took to my bed all day yesterday, dozing for hours, doing fun things like reading and taking my kids out to see Harry Potter. And nobody perished or fell apart without my presence. Duh. And now that I’ve refueled, I have so much more to bring to the world anyway.
One doesn’t need to be a mother to have an overactive SuperMom flitting about in her tights (with no runs in them, of course). It’s just an energy of overachievment and the pride our ego takes in response. But for a mother, it takes on a whole new tone because there is just SO much to tend to, so many emotions at stake, and so many expectations and criticisms to endure. For new mothers, this energy is particularly dangerous, and to encourage one to value her rest and honour her need to take life slowly sets the tone for a saner motherhood as the role develops and grows. As every new mother gives herself the permission to rest, eat, and stare lovingly at her baby with a full, present heart and leaky, drippy boobs, we heal.
My advice to those stuck in the wake of SuperMom: make a little sign, post it on the ceiling over your bed so it’s one of the first things you see when you wake up in the morning, that says, “Dear One,I can take care of the world just fine by myself today. Love, God”. (or whatever word you may want to interject there).
by MotherWit | Oct 22, 2010 | Uncategorized
I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to do a little workshop yesterday with medical residents on the role of the doula in childbirth, and how to help a woman deal with the strong sensations of the second stage of labour.
Just to give a bit of a background: I work at all the hospitals in Montreal pretty much, and have always tended to favour the birth experiences in which family doctors are the primary caregivers. For one, I see a lot more consistency in their practices. If the woman’s doctor can’t be there, the one who is on call tends to have a very similar approach, and she isn’t shocked by a radically different philosophy that sometimes exists between one obstetrician and another. I am of course generalizing, however I do see a strong tendency towards consistency. Consistency builds security, and security contributes to better birth experiences.
Another reason I enjoy births in which family doctors are present, is that they tend to have a much more relaxed approach. In Montreal, I see more babies caught in the hands and knees position by family docs than I do with their moms in the stranded beetle posture. Family doctors tend to hang out in the labour room more, building rapport. I also generally find they encourage questions, respect concerns, do their best to answer questions, and are invested not just in a good clinical outcome, but in the emotional well being of their patients too. Plus the continuity of care is attractive to many couples. Often the same family doctor who took care of them prenatally will take the baby on as a patient too…perhaps even all the family members. In a city where finding a family doctor is nearly impossible, this is an appealing option for medical care if indeed a hospital birth is desired, but with as little interruption/routine procedures/sledgehammer obstetrics as possible. Not to knock sledgehammer obstetrics…it certainly has its time and place, and thank goodness for that. But many women want a low tech birth even though they are not comfortable birthing at home or at a free standing birthing centre. For these women, the care of family doctors provides them with what they’re looking for.
A nice thing about the family doctors I’ve worked with over the years, is that they are generally very supportive of doula care. Because of this mutual appreciation and respect, the birthing environment is usually really nice for Mom and her partner. No, it’s not home birth for all you readers who don’t feel safe or like birthing in a hospital, yes, there are still strangers, shift changes, and not total control over your environment (in my town you won’t get to birth in a bathtub or squatting over the toilet even if it’s what you really want when it’s time for the baby to emerge) and yes, there are rules and restrictions that are hospital policy no matter who the caregiver is… but as I said, for those who WANT a decent experience AND embrace the benefits of medical care even if it means following a few rules, the phrase “nice hospital birth” does not have to be an oxymoron. If I didn’t often have lovely hospital birth experiences, I couldn’t do my job. I’d be a depressed wreck.
What I’m basically saying is that my highest ratio of truly lovely hospital birth experiences takes place under the care of family physicians. In fact, my second child was born into the hands of a gentle, loving, encouraging family doctor after my midwife felt it was necessary to transport me to the hospital, and my one hospital birth experience was just fine. True, an impatient nurse literally made my exhausted midwife cry by blaming her because I was choosing not to stay on a monitor (I was not trying to be a “bad” patient, I had just been in way too much pain for too long to be able to stand still long enough to get more than a 30 second trace), but the doctors themselves were godsends. One of them actually slow danced with me through a few contractions. Her comfort with touch and willingness to use her body to support a woman in nutso labour is not something you see every day.
At the MotherWit Doula Training Intensive I gave this summer in Morin Heights, Quebec, I was graced by the presence of a lovely student who happens to do administrative work for the group of baby catching family doctors I like best. She had a lot of ideas about how cool it would be to do some doula-led info sessions to residents to help them learn how to appropriately and effectively be with a labouring lady.
At first I thought this was a great idea. A couple of doctor friends of mine, though, didn’t. Both thought that time is so tight for residents, that learning now to hang out with birthing women and rub their backs wasn’t going to be time well spent, that improving basic skills was much more productive…not to dis my profession, or anything. And truly, I heard that, and figured, “oh, true…good point”. After all, that kind of “fluffy” stuff (that’s how it’s perceived, anyway) is my job, not a doctor’s. I agree that a new doctor’s focus is going to be on medical care, not doula work. However, after having now done the workshop and having reflected upon some experiences I’ve had with residents in the past, I am absolutely glad I did it and my suspicion that imparting a few simple doula tricks to medical residents would prove to be valuable was true.
To be an excellent clinician in no way means you automatically know how to approach birthing women with wisdom. Wisdom grows, and planting a few seeds is not time wasted. Yes, doctors needing to improve their clinical skills is crucial. But to be a doctor means to interact with patients, in this case vulnerable, open, life giving women who are having peak experiences of pain and physical/emotional catharses. Some manners to keep that experience sacred, if you will, are important to learn.
I have known of and seen residents do the following (please don’t judge them harshly…they are learning, and most of them are young and sweet…they make me want to feed them soup): talk about the baby in the next room who just suffered from major shoulder dystocia while they are standing between the legs of a woman whose baby is crowning…answer and talk on a cell phone WHILE doing a vaginal exam…allow a discussion to unfold, inspired by the fact that the woman in front of them has been pushing for a long while, about the baby earlier in the day who died from a complication and that that mom had been pushing for a long time too….tell a woman that she CANNOT deliver unless she BLOCKS her air and GETS MAD at the baby and PUSHES it out HARD….examine a woman because she has had some mild bleeding and cramping and given what’s going on with her cervix tells her in no uncertain terms that she will NOT go into labour on her own, will have to be induced, and that a natural birth will be impossible, and not to set herself up for disappointment (the lady birthed completely normally 6 hours later, by the way…I have known of this resident to say this to a couple of my clients, only to be wrong each time). This is but a small sample of many anecdotes.
So instead of us getting mad at them and irate about their insensitive treatment (and many of them are born with an acute awareness of others’ emotional needs…we’re just discussing a few who need to develop this awareness), why not get more pro active and guide them towards a bit more awareness of the quality of their presence? I believe in people’s hearts, and I truly do not think any of these residents held bad intent in theirs. They are simply so busy learning how to be fantastic clinical care providers that it can be easy to forget that behind the pelvis is a woman and her partner…who are extremely vulnerable. The fact that doctors are entering into their practices NOT necessarily having been taught Ina May’s words to live by: “If a woman doesn’t look like a goddess in birth, someone isn’t treating her right,” means there are major gaps in medical training. Because as midwives and doulas, we are acutely aware that labour can malfunction when a mother becomes physically and emotionally distressed. Labour can stall. The sensations become more painful and make it much harder for a woman to embrace them. They can panic. It is not a wonder that lots of doctors don’t view birth as beautiful and transformational, but as an act of suffering. Most doctors I know claim they will probably want an epidural when they themselves give birth. Most of the births they have seen have not been normal.
If the quantum physics theory (and obviously I’m being very general here) states that the observed “object” changes given how it is observed and by whom, Ina May may has hit the nail on the head. Be calm, present, aware, and respectful of the sacredness of the birthing woman’s work, and maybe, just maybe, the quality of one’s presence can influence the mother’s sense of well being, thus creating a greater potential for smoother physiological functioning. It sure doesn’t hurt, does it? Midwives and doulas believe and embody this belief, and act accordingly. Doulas do not just rub backs, suggest positions, and have our clients just talk about their feelings with us the live long day. We actually hold an energetic space…a strong, loving space within which a mother can birth confidently and hopefully as normally as possible. And if it doesn’t work out that way, the benefit of our support is just as important, if not more, to keep her feeling strong and centred. I think this is the magic inherent in our better than average outcomes. Given the much studied and well documented fact that a doula’s presence in the birthing room can, quite simply, make birth go better, I believe we have a lot to teach.
A few weeks ago, I was asked to show up on a particular date, but didn’t have any information about what I was supposed to talk about until 2 days before the scheduled workshop. Then two days ago I received an email. The email basically said, “talk for 5 minutes about what a doula is and what she does, then for 25 minutes provide some concrete techniques for pain control in the second stage of labour. A doctor will talk more about pain control for about 10 minutes, and then there will be a question and answer period.”
Give me a birth related topic and I can talk about it for hours, so I just jotted down a few notes. As I got closer to the building the workshop was being held in, I began to get a bit nervous. I don’t normally get nervous anymore before teaching or public speaking, but I was feeling antsy. I walked into the room, feeling more confident because some of my MotherWit colleagues joined up with me, and was pretty surprised to see how many residents were actually there. More nerves. The family doctor who was facilitating this workshop was finishing up teaching about communicating with women they suspected were in abusive situations. Finally, it was our turn to speak. A few of the residents there had never heard of a doula, so we talked about who doulas are and what we do, and why what we do works.
To make a long story short, as I’ve been blathering on for long enough, we discussed the fact that though I was asked to talk about “pain control”, I couldn’t do that, as doulas don’t do pain control, that in fact if a mom wants to birth normally, trying to control her pain could actually affect her progress. So that led to a discussion about the benefits of labour pain, which are probably not extolled as a virtue in medical school. We help moms embrace their sensations, work through their pain and provide the comfort measures and emotional support to help them with that task. Of course if they need or want pain control, we stand back and embrace anaesthesia too. We talked about how doulas don’t really have an agenda about how a woman gives birth, but that we are invested in her feeling as powerful about her experience as possible.
Then I talked about oxytocin. A simple thing that residents can do to make birth more comfortable for Mom is to respect that the oxytocin/ endorphin interplay is fickle, and that things don’t function as well when people are not respectful of the birthing environment. I asked them to imagine what it would be like if they themselves were trying to have a major poop, and people kept knocking on the door, asking how things were going and telling them the clock was ticking. Keeping that in mind, I asked them how it may feel to be a labouring mom who is experiencing some crazy sensations, feeling like a watermelon is in her rectum, is put on her back so strangers can see and touch her privates, and yelled at to PUSH! What might the mojo feel like to her? We talked about being wary of talking about other cases while in the presence of a birthing woman, or making her feel negatively judged, etc. We talked about oxytocin as being “zee ‘ormone of looove”, and that the more oxytocin, usually the more endorphins, which will contribute to helping a mom deal with her pain without us having to do much.
We talked about respecting physiology…why birthing on the back is, for most woman, probably a lot more painful than doing what feels natural, which is using gravity and utilizing the mobility
of the sacrum instead of sandwiching it between the baby’s head and a bed. We talked about purple pushing…y’all know my views about that. Sesch and Lewina (my sister MotherWitties) and I demonstrated different pushing positions women seem to like. I passed around pictures of a woman giving birth on hands and knees and showing how a sacrum allowed its full range of motion will sometimes result in the baby’s posterior shoulder coming out first. We showed a video clip of a woman birthing unassisted making the most powerful, loudest, beautiful-est, guttural noises you have ever heard, showing that no, purple pushing in normal birth is usually not necessary.
Sesch, Lewina, and I demonstrated how the residents could help to facilitate relaxation by centering themselves, speaking calmly, using reassuring touch and gentle guidance to help talk a really frightened, freaking out woman off a ledge. Sesch is fantastic at playing a stressed out birthing lady, and she yelled out while crossing her legs and drawing up her bum, “I HAVE to POO. AAARRRGHHH!” while I did the doula thing and calmed her down between her “contractions” and provided reassurance. We actually got a big round of applause for our role playing.
The doctor who was facilitating gave great feed back. She reminded us to talk about how to support women who were on epidurals, and also asked us to discuss how they might support a mother who has been sexually abused in her past. Interestingly, she also asked us how on earth we managed to have private lives given all the doula work we do. That’s a whole ‘nother blog. The best answer I can give to that one is to have a partner as supportive of my work as mine is. I couldn’t be me if I didn’t have him.
It seems there was some miscommunication, as it had been this doctor’s belief that we were going to talk about the first stage of labour instead of the second. But it didn’t really matter. Hopefully we got some messages across as well as provided some entertainment. I like things to be fun. We did focus heavily on physiological, unmedicated birth. This was not because we don’t believe in pain relief in labour when a mom needs or wants it, but because we live in a culture in which natural birth is considered radical. In their worlds it’s a rarity to see normal birth. I hope that talking about it as if it is an every day occurance might create balance and an inspiration to support more women to have normal births. If these residents understand that natural birth is the norm for most of our clients, perhaps it might make them say to a woman asking them for an epidural..”you’re doing a great job…I know you can do it.” If medical people understood how much their patients look to them, and realized that those few words could actually help many moms get through birth normally, that moms just might think, “if my doctor thinks I can, then I guess I really can!”, they would realize how much power they have to make a woman’s birth experience feel really positive to her, even if it doesn’t go the way she had hoped or expected. Someone having faith in you is always a nice thing. A dear client of mine told her doctor that what she needed from her (as well her medical care) was to know that she believed in her. These fledgling maternal hopes should be nourished with great tenderness. Doctors aren’t just clinicians who take case histories, scout for complications and treat them with their skills and tools, but witnesses to a birth experience! How special is that? May they never forget the honour.
Thank you, residents, for listening. Thank you, Doctor H, for your support, and thanks, Gen, for getting it off the ground. Let’s do more.
by MotherWit | Oct 12, 2010 | Uncategorized
I have in no way abandonned my poor neglected blog. I am busy putting together my postpartum doula training manual, and am soon holding a grand opening for the new MotherWit Doula Care Headquarters.
I will soon get cracking on writing the Madagascar story, and add pictures to what I’ve already posted.
Love to you all,
Lesley
by MotherWit | Sep 21, 2010 | Uncategorized
Yes, I am working on a blog about Madagascar, but in the meantime, life still happens.
I had very little scheduled today besides checking out a space for the potential future MotherWit Headquarters (which, by the way, looks like it just might work out great), so decided to do the dreaded dress shopping excursion I have been putting off. It has been knawing at me like a toothache that won’t go away, so I figured I’d get it over with. My sister Jennifer is getting married to her lovely man Jon in a couple of weeks. They are coming here all the way from England with my delicious little nephew Antony so we can share in their special event. I’m thinking this occasion warrants some fancier duds than I usually wear. Usually, I’ll buy a little stretchy wrap from H&M, those being just about the only things that fit me from that store, but my sister’s wedding is worthy of something a little more special.
I have to say that I abhor clothes shopping. I am not the type of person things fit easily. I am 5 foot and half an inch soaking wet, with a very wide rib cage, a postpartum tummy (nobody has to know that I haven’t had a baby in over 5 years), barely any hips or bum, and boobs that are over DD. I refuse to even know how much higher in the letter scale they go, but let’s just say that for my frame, they are big. Shopping for clothing is a freakin’ nightmare. Especially when I’m looking for dresses, as my waist is size 6 to 8, my hips size 2 to 4, and my top at least size 10 for tailored shirts, even though it’s not even possible for me to wear buttoned things. If it buttons in front, it will be laughably huge in the shoulders, back, and sides. Shopping makes me feel misshapen, and feeling misshapen makes me feel angry. Not at my shape, which I’m happy enough with, but with the people who make dresses.
I traipsed all along St. Catherine Street, popping into this place and that, marvelling at how slim the pickings were for appropriate dresses. They either looked like they were made for prom queens, club chicks, or dowagers. There was nothing in between for a 40 something, reasonably concerned with style person. Nothing I liked, anyway. I usually depend on Winners to get me through difficult shopping sprees, but trips to 3 different Winners yielded nothing. BCBGs clothes all looked like sparkly candy. Betsy Johnson had cute stuff, but holy high price tags, Bat Man! Mexx and Tristan all looked business casual. Everything else was in shades of black and gray or were ridiculously strapless. I just don’t have enough interesting accessories to spruce up these colours, which don’t generally look so hot on me anyway unless I’m striving for Jaundice Chic.
Even Mango had nothing to offer. Then I found Olam. Right away 3 cute, interesting, well cut, reasonably priced little dresses popped into my vision to say “hello”. A nice young sales lady took my finds to the changing room. Finally, feeling confident I would find something wonderful, I went to the changing room….only to find they did not have mirrors inside! On PRINCIPLE I will NOT buy clothing from places that don’t have mirrors hidden privately away inside the changing cubicles. I will NOT emerge from these tiny caves of furtive clothing tranformation to bare my unchecked, lumpy underwear-ed and dingy bra strapped self to a store full of onlookers. It is not that I’m that vain. It’s just that I think this is the sneakiest, most underhanded way of insisting you are “cared for” (sales pitched) by a sales person probably hustling for commission. And I strongly object! I do not WANT the store to assign me an “ooher” and “aaher” (despite what’s really going through her mind), or an accessory draper whose favourite colour is puce. If I have my own private shopping doula with me, like my friend Nat, she fulfills that role for me, but with honesty. I refuse to have some stranger oggling my body and making suggestions without my express consent. When you have no mirror to look into privately and must come out to be viewed by the awaiting sales person and any other stragglers who are dragged along with other dress seekers to “shopping doula”, you don’t have much of a choice about the matter without sounding like a bitch.
I asked the lithe, perfectly decked out girl who was young enough to be my daughter if there was a changing room with a mirror. She said, “No, but I can hold the mirror up in front of the cubicle if you want so you don’t have to come out.” Yeah, like that wouldn’t look to everyone observing like some person too unconfident to come out of her hidey hole! That just makes people want to oggle even more. Besides, given that she was tiny and the mirror was about 7 feet tall, I felt doubtful. And pissed off. Nothing against the girl, as she didn’t design the store or make the rules and is, after all, just trying to make a living. So I kindly said, “No thanks,” and left. Too bad for them. I would have shelled out some cash. Alas.
I wandered along the street feeling glum. Surely there must was an affordable, not too ugly dress that fit me SOMEWHERE in Montreal? Though I kept meaning to grab the Metro and head for home, something kept pulling me to the final Winners on the strip. I didn’t want to go. I resisted, knowing another attempt to find something there was futile…yet why did I feel compelled?
I dragged my feet into the Alexis Nihon Mall Winners for one last look. I went to the dress rack that in the other Winners yielded absolutely nothing cute or interesting. And lo and behold, several sweet little numbers looked somewhat appealing. I had not seen in them in the other stores. I took 4 different dresses in varying sizes. I always have to try a few. I took them to the changing room (WITH mirrors…bite ME, Olam) and became very discouraged when everything made me look heinous. Then I tried on the very last one…a black and white Calvin Klein dress with wide shoulder straps, a high waist, and pencil-y skirt…all things Stacey and Clinton say are good for people with my shape. And wouldn’t you know…BAM! Except for a teeny little adjustment that will need to be made in the strap to make it smaller, it fit my monster boobs, it fit my rib cage, it camoflauged my post baby belly (I will claim that until Finn is 40), and came just below my knees. And it was less than I thought I was going to have to pay for a dress appropriate for my sister’s wedding.
I could have cried with relief! I called my husband right then and there in the changing room, jumping up and down saying, “I found it, I found it!” He wasn’t sure what I was talking about at first, but when I clued him in, I knew he was extremely glad to hear I had found something, thus eliminating a wasteland of weeknights of him having to trek through stores with forced cheer, me trailing in an absolute funk of dejection, listening to my arguments to convince him that I am simply not made to wear nice clothes. I felt like we had just bought hours of time and spared us nights of heartache.
So that was my day. Ladies, if we all refuse to shop in stores that don’t allow us the right to look at ourselves in the mirror privately, thus allowing us to choose whether or not we want to reveal ourselves, practices would change.
Lesley
