We Interrupt This Blog

This post will be pretty off-topic, but I love my city so I wanted to share this.

Four hundred fifty days before its 450th birthday, Pensacola will begin the celebration.

The public is invited to the kick-off event to "Celebrate Pensacola" at 5 p.m. Friday at the Escambia County Courthouse. The culmination of the celebration will come on Aug. 15, 2009, with a big birthday party.

Don Tristan de Luna and his band of Spanish explorers sloshed ashore somewhere along Pensacola Bay in 1559. Two years later, the settlement was gone, besieged by a hurricane and other problems.

As for my personal part in the festivities and celebration, I have followed this template and written my "where I'm from" poem. Enjoy!

Where I’m From

I am from a hot sidewalk on tanned bare feet, from Cool Whip and melting grape Popsicles and sounds like Pepsi Cola.

I am from the house with seventeen pine trees and two banana trees, a yard filled with children, a grill that always smells like last night’s barbecue and a cracked concrete patio stained with muddy foot (and paw) prints.

I am from palm trees and orange blossom, azaleas and sand-spurs, seaweed and the gritty ocean breeze, from sand in your hair and in your toes and everywhere in between.

I am from vowells and dabbs, with a Half but no Steps, Granddad’s hidden candy bars, Mary’s back rubs and money, both old and new.

From “wait ‘til your daddy gets home,” Stille Nacht and don’t wake the baby (there was always a baby).

I am from three-to-a-tub, mom’s home at five and the great Blue Birds flyin’ in that hot Florida sky.

I am from faithful church-hopping, endless summertime VBS and always, always Hopkins wax paper-covered, fat-filled absolutely the most delicious Southern fare this side of anywhere.

I’m from Spanish lore and conquistadors, quests for gold, Five Flags and forts of old.

From the time Great Uncle I forget who nearly chopped his foot off cutting wood and had it wrapped in turpentine and rags because there was no hospital and mama and daddy honeymooning on a beach they didn’t know was topless.

I am from the backs of closets, lining the walls. From baskets and under beds and in old backpacks and all those nightgowns mama got for each birth (there were seven). From seven birth certificates, first-day-of-school shoes, three sets of bunk beds, and from knowing five different ways to get anywhere I want to go.

From survives hurricanes and supports troops, from trains pilots and tans visitors. From hopefully not many shark attacks and knowing that horrible secret that takes the yee-ow from a jellyfish sting. From knowing a red light means stop and a red flag means don’t go in the water.

And knowing in my heart that Dorothy Gail had it right, except that maybe there’s no place like home and the people who make it so.

The legacy my mother leaves

I am the oldest of seven children. There are five girls and two boys. The boys are right in the middle: girl, girl, girl, boy, boy, girl, girl. Seven singletons. No twins (and, because we were often asked: no, we’re not Catholic).

My mother had three vaginal births, then a c-section, then three VBACs. Her VBACs were in the late 80s, early 90s.

All seven of my mother’s births were epidural-free hospital births. For her cesarean she had general anesthesia because it was an emergency situation and there was no time for an epidural or spinal.

I am 27 years old and my youngest sibling will be 16 in June.

This is the birth legacy my mother left to her children:

Birth is usually safe.

Judicious use of life-saving medical technology is imperative.

A mother’s pain or discomfort should not trump her child’s well-being.

Babies should be born vaginally if at all possible.

Cesareans should be considered carefully, and should only be performed when the life of the mother or child is in immediate danger.


This is the legacy I hope to leave my children as well.

Happy Mother’s Day!

At da doctor in case your house is on fire

This is my daughter discussing what she has been taught about birth. When asked, she says babies come out of the "fer-gina", but if for some reason the baby can't come out of the vagina, the "doctor cuts a hole" for the baby to come out. She also says that we have our babies at home, unless there is an emergency. In her mind, an "emergency" is your house being on fire. So she says, "you have your baby at da doctor in case your house is on fire"

International Midwives Day

Happy Midwives Day! To celebrate, I am going to show the blogosphere what my midwife did for me.

This is a picture of my son and me leaving the hospital. I'm smiling and laughing because I'm so happy to be leaving the hospital with my gut intact. My midwife did that!




This is the photo montage of Caleb's birth. What a wonderful gift a midwife is!!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

On this night

On this night, a dear friend of mine is laboring with her second child. She has carried this baby for just over 44 weeks. She has been patient and loving with this baby. We don't know if baby is a boy or girl.

With her permission, I will post her birth story after it's written.

We love you, V!

VBACwarrior's birthday

Following is the story of my birth, told by the woman who did it!

April 21, 1981 at 9:00 am I walked into the Conerstone Clinic for women only one day before my due date of April 22, 1981. Dr. Smith came into the room and asked "how are you today?" My reply was "ready to have this baby." I had no idea what I was having but I wanted a girl very much. After examining me he estimated another 2 weeks or so. I thought to myself you are crazy I can't wait another 2 weeks! After all I had gained 30 pounds already. I was not thinning and not dilated at all. I was very upset and went on to work.

I worked for 5 doctors who were also anxious to hear my news. After telling them the news, the older doctor pulled me aside and told me to jump rope during my breaks and lunch break. I thought it was worth a try! I got off work at 5:00 that evening and went home and fixed dinner, cleaned up a bit around the house(nesting) and ate dinner while watching TV. At about 8:00 I had my first contraction. I believed that this would be like any other night of Braxton Hicks but they kept on coming doing the traditional longer, stronger and closer together. By 9:30 I called my labor coach and best friend who was at work as a labor and delivery nurse in Baptist Hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas. She wanted me to be checked before she went home. I went in carrying my pillows and bag just in case. To my surprise I was 2-3 centimeters and I believe about 50 percent effaced.Wow progress since this morning. They monitored me for a few minutes and decided I was a keeper.

The worst part of the whole labor was the soap sud enema. They actually cleaned me out with soap suds. How humiliating could it get!!! After that, I walked the halls and stopped to breathe during the contractions. By about 4 am I was wearing thin and decided to rest a while in bed. Longer, stronger and closer together they came. The hee hees were becoming harder and harder to do. The music I was listening to irritated the heck out of me! The nurse insisted by 5:30 that I try a little Demerol because they thought maybe they could break my water and make it go a little faster for me. Bam water broke and transition began!!! Oh that nasty Demerol I just wanted this to be over now. When my water was broken there was meconium in the water. It was about 7:45am and they said the lucky number finally... 10!Now you can push and I said NO NO NO I am afraid they said push now or we will have to cut you then I said OK. Three pushes later a beautiful olive complected blonde daughter was born, Rebecca, at 8:17 am weighing 6lbs 6 1/2 oz.






My mom would go on to have six more children. Her fourth child was born via (true) emergency c-section because of a placental abruption. After that, she had three unmedicated hospital VBACs.

Birthing Freedom Advocacy Campaign- I need your help!

I am attempting to begin a cesarean awareness campaign via this blog.

I need a "slogan" for the campaign. It's going to be "one if by ___, two if by ___" (a play on the Paul Revere "one if by land, two if by sea" story) and I need ideas as to what to fill in the blanks with. Some ideas already suggested are

cut/push

scalpel/design

above/below

The idea is to have women (and their daughters, friends, mothers, aunts, midwives, etc) from all over the United States (and the world) submit pictures to the blog. Everyone in the pictures should be holding up two fingers (like a "peace" sign). This symbolizes several things:

1. it's the "peace" sign (as in, advocating birthing with gentleness and not violence)

2. It's two fingers, meaning they choose the second choice (two if by____ )

3. It's a "V" for vaginal birth

4. It's a "V" for VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean)


Also, I'd love to get a birthing freedom version of THIS POEM going. I have stanzas 1 and 13 covered. I just need stanzas 2-12. If you'd like to take a stanza, please send me a messege letting me know which one, and then send it to me when you're done with it (along with the number stanza you "re-wrote") Here's an example of a re-written first stanza:

Listen my children and you shall hear

Of the midnight birth of sweet baby dear

On the fourth of July, in Seventy-five;

Hardly a woman is now alive

Who remembers that’s how babies get here

Please send me your ideas in the comments section. Thanks for your help, birthin' mamas!!