Why I want a Homebirth

Back in May, I wrote this and posted it to my facebook page after I was Constantly bombarded with questions. So here I will post it, and later this week I intend to publish the story of our homebirth. I am going to test out this blogging thing once more:

Why I want a homebirth- as I waddle up to my Soapbox...

A like-minded friend of mine sent me a link http://skepticalob.blogspot.com/2010/04/industry-devoted-to-ignoring-demeaning.html to an article that sent me over the edge, and while I calmed down after reading the article, we discussed homebirth. This discussion included myths, fallacies and just generally humorous opinions I have discovered over the length of my pregnancy.

When I was pregnant with Cecelia, my grandmother saw me drying my hair and asked if I wanted to kill my baby. No, well then why on earth was I leaning my head upside down drying my hair? Didn't I know that the baby's umbilical cord would wrap around her neck and strangle her that way? It was all I could do to keep from busting out in laughter in the tiny 93 year old woman's face. Many of the concerns I have addressed seem to come from a similar place.

Why not just have a hospital birth without drugs? Well, I did that and no it isn't good enough. I am a healthy, low-risk woman. I do not feel I have to be strapped in and told what to do when my body was designed for the task.

Are you going to have a someone else there? Of course, Neither Dylan nor I am trained to know when something is wrong and a valid need for medical attention presents itself. Our midwife is.

Is your midwife trained? Yes, well, she worked as a Vet Tech for years, and thought this was a good time to change fields, but she seems like she knows what she is doing. Are you kidding me? Of course she is trained. Again, this woman is there to make sure we have the best possible outcome for both me and the baby. Humorously, this is the MOST common question I get. And yes, I desperately want to tell people she is a vet tech and watch the stunned expressions.

What if something goes wrong? That is why we have Norma the midwife. She is trained to avoid and handle complications should they arise. We trust her to guide me through the situation or tell us it is beyond her skills and we need an obstetrician.

But really, if something goes wrong, will you go to the hospital? Second most common question I get. This one also brings out my snarky side. Yes, we will go to the hospital. We will allow medical intervention and I am not so stubborn as to die in my living room to prove a point. Besides do you know what that does to the value of a house? I am a realtor's daughter. Death affects property value...Dylan could never sell after that...

Isn't it illegal to have a homebirth? No, not illegal. And I would like it to stay that way. http://www.thebigpushformidwives.org/

Isn't it safer to give birth in a hospital? Actually it can be as safe or safer:
http://www.bmj.com/cgi/content/abstract/330/7505/1416
http://www3.interscience.wiley.com/journal/122323202/abstract
http://ecmaj.com/cgi/reprint/181/6-7/377

I thought the hospital was cleaner than your home? I will readily admit I am not much of a housekeeper. In fact, my mother has hired one for me during this last trimester, BUT let's think about a hospital for a moment. This is where sick people go and die. The ONLY healthy people that check in to a hospital are there to give birth. One study http://www.tufts.edu/med/apua/Patients/ridbooklet.pdf shows hospital-based infections are the 4th largest killer in America. I am still not over the fact my WHOLE family got lice when I was five after staying with grandfather at his deathbed. Because funerals aren't bad enough, lice and funerals make a party...

And just an FYI or two:
1- Our midwife checks my diet, blood pressure, iron count, urine, fetal heart tones, my pulse, amniotic fluid amount, fetal position, and probably other things I am forgetting. She has yet to light candles, wave incense, chant over me, or attempt to "read" my aura.

2- Birth is messy anywhere. Our midwife teaches us how to protect furniture and quickly and effectively tidy up before grandparents, friends, and loved ones show up to meet the new addition.

3- I doubt I will birth in the bathtub. If you have ever seen a pregnant woman in a bathtub the only possible thing that can come to mind is a beached whale. And while I still want a birth tub, Dylan brings up the valid point I am clutsy when I am not having contractions and trying to throw my leg over the side of a raised pool... I do like being in water an awful lot though.

4- We are HARDLY being pressured into having a home birth. (Not even Dylan- he supports me whole-heartedly.) Frankly, I haven't met anyone who can be pressured into signing up for a marathon of work and pain without feeling strongly about their reasoning. And if you know me at all, you know I never jumped off the bridge because my friends did...We feel this is the best decision for me and the baby. I wouldn't buy a car without researching it, heck I researched the car seat, baby swing, and diapers why on earth would I not research my medical care first?

5- Average cost of natural vaginal hospital birth in Mississippi $5000-8000, if a C-section is involved $8,000-12,000. Our midwife? $2500. And I like her more. And spend more time with her. And frankly we trust her not to do something just because it is close to her dinner or her insurance premiums might go up. Oh, and our insurance will reimburse most of her fees.

6- I am actually modest. I am not one of those people who needs to be surrounded by loved ones in my "time of need-" quite the opposite. Just as I don't need everybody and their cousin cheering me on, I sure as hell don't need people I have never met showing up to poke, prod, and stare at my who-ha either. Dylan, Norma the midwife, and Shay acting as our Doula will be just fine.

7- Last but not least, we have actually seen an Obstetrician. We saw him through the first trimester where he said I was healthy, the baby was healthy, and he wished us the best.

And with that I will waddle back off my soapbox.

Humor and Home Repairs

It is currently 8:49. At noon we are leaving for Tupelo. Dylan, Cecelia and I are going to stay with our good friends and family the Hunt Family. And then at 4:00 tomorrow morning we will put Dylan on the plane to Oxford, England. He is excited. Heaven knows he needs a break and a bit of detoxing bachelor time. Cecelia and I will miss him.

What he doesn't know, is the second he is gone, we will be finishing up the projects he has started. Yes, I have said it before, Dylan and my Dad had a lot in common. Working on improving your house and leaving construction strewn from stem to stern is one of those similarities. I don't really mind not being able to walk barefoot. Don't mind that there is a wall missing in my hallway. Don't mind that sometimes you have to hold the shower curtain up while you shower or it will fall. Don't mind that when you do shower, you shower with tools on the shelves and have to remember to bring in your shampoo with you. Don't mind that there is primer on the walls and artwork lining the hallway. Don't mind that I have no hair products and my make-up has mysteriously changed shades so that when you apply it you now look like Queen Elizabeth from all the "new" sheetrock dust. Don't even mind that half my wardrobe in off limits until the bookshelf is moved away from the closet door. In fact the only thing I really mind is the Fridge. Yep, just the fridge. Once upon a time it was in the nook that was specially designed for it. Now it sits in the MIDDLE of my kitchen. And it is NOT a big kitchen. So that is that.

The second he leaves, I am going to enlist the aid of my good friends and fellow remodelors and we are going to temporarily relocate it back to its starting point for a few weeks and then pull it back before he gets home. He will never have to know. Unless that is, he reads this...

Wedding Shoes

One thing down, eight thousand to go...

Dylan is currently painting the bathroom. I am working on the guest list and Save the Date cards. Time is flying by. So the picture above are my wedding shoes. Taylor and Lindsay took me shopping for them. They are the best couple a gal could ever ask for. They take me wedding shopping, help Dylan and I knock down a wall in the hallway, and keep me at their house when I have an allergic reaction to the aftermath...

So what do you think of the shoes? No really, I am curious, they will be a different color of course, and I cutting the black elastic off and replacing it with ribbon, but that is the shoe. I have never worn anything so comfortable in all my life. Taylor and Lindsay had to hand the box to Dylan to keep me from wearing them. They are now hidden in a undisclosed location somewhere in the house. Maybe I will find them while Dylan is gone to England.

Did I mention England? No? Hmm. I guess I have not updated this in a while. Well, Dylan is going to England for a month. And while he will be missing Valentine's Day, he is being hired by Oxford University to do some pretty impressive sketches for publication. I can't complain too much. Well I can, but I am not going to. (HA!)

So for now I bid you farewell til next quarter. (I will try to do better...)

Three Shows and a Party

This month has been hectic as hell. Dylan started the month with a show, put up another by mid month. We had a party for Halloween, the best holiday of the year, and now Dylan is off to the coast for yet another show. Funny how everything is slow and ticking along and then BOOM it is a mad dash around the race track. I won't begin to say toward the finish line because what is there to finish. Each day you get up and start back over again.
School is going swimmingly. I would love to say that I am now use to the freshman, but alas, that has yet to happen. They are still frightening children and I am reminded of my age when around them. Oh well. I have my freakishly high GPA once again. Go me. And we are almost 20% of the way done. I think Dylan is going to go ahead and apply for grad school. So that will be fun. While he is busy making beautiful things, I will be busy making the house beautiful. We have decided that after the wedding there will be no more events resembling a party that have more than 10 participants including us. Too much prep, and we are WAYYYYY to swamped. So that is that. I got my last big Halloween extravaganza before settling into a life more ordinary.

Wedding Blues

I don't know if my limited readers have heard the news, but Dylan and I are engaged. Yeah! However there is a ton to do. No really, a TON to do. I am exhausted already. We have picked out my dress, decided we are going to buy Dylan a tux. The location is set, we are debating on the weekend, and as for everything else it is slowly lining up. There is still crazy amounts to do. Why do people get excited about this mess. It is work just plain crazy amounts of work. I will keep everyone informed.

Clay Bodies Exhibition

I am excited. Dylan has a show this Saturday. Actually, truth be told, I am exhausted. I am catering the event. I don't see how he is hanging in there. But 1,200 little men in one place makes me happy. Hope to see you there.

Saturday, October 4, 2008
7:00pm - 9:00pm
BLY Fine Arts Center
Dunn Street, Eupora MS

A condom story

Dylan gets home in twelve days. I swear I have other things to talk about. Moving on.

So Cecelia is now six. I was not with her for her birthday. She was with her dad's parents in Maryland. When I get pictures, I will share them. We are also not having her birthday until she and Dylan are both home. Right now she is in Chicago at the American Girl Factory picking out her American Girl Doll. She and Dylan have birthdays a day apart and will be forced to come to agreeance on the terms of cake. He likes carrot, she likes chocolate, I do not see a particularly pleasing combination of the two... I will take pictures then as well. I am excited though. I remember 6 being a particularly fun year. We will see.

Little bit of office drama. I keep a jar of condoms on my desk. They make me happy. Especially when my boss lady continually goes on trips to National and International STD conferences and brings bowlfuls back. Since she and her partner do not need such, and her other researcher is married, I am the target for receiving mass quantities of prophylactics. At first, I politely declined. Then I got a candy jar and started filling it. It is now bursting at the seams and I have the option of using the colored condoms to carefully construct and appealing desk caddy. Makes me happy By George. That is, until a week and a half ago.

I have just moved out of a cubicle-ridden holding tank, into an office with another coworker. While Sheena and I once again are in pre-fab modular furniture, we have a window, frosted glass dividers, a conference table, and security clearance. Very snazzy indeed. All was well in the world until a bunch of fratastic good ol' boys came to assemble our new furniture. Since we were kicked out of the room they had the run of the place. And they used it. Not a single thing was disturbed, save my jar of condoms. Would you believe the little brats stole all the colored condoms. Didn't take the female condoms. Didn't take the ribbed ones. Didn't take the flavored ones. Just the colors- green mainly. Left my one red one in the front like I had it.

I laughed, but it pissed me off to be honest. So I called their supervisor, who happens to be the owner's son. I am not naming names here, but these boys work at the only office supply store in town and the owners give off a rather polished, uptight old Starkville feel. He was a bit horrified. The statement "I'm sorry, you are missing your what?" was uttered after a rather lengthy pause. I repeated, "I am missing most of the colored condoms from the candy jar on my desk." He assured me it would be dealt with promptly.

Later the next day I had a rather red-faced young man apologize and tell me the grandiose bullsh*t story that they accidentally knocked over the jar, the condoms fell out, and they put them back in. If I was missing any, they were probably in the boxes I had yet to unpack. Yeah, right. I knew the story is crap, he knew the story is crap. He just has to deal with the fallout of a bad prank gone wrong. Seriously, who wouldn't notice that one of the two personal trinkets on their desk was tampered with? I thanked him for apologizing and moved on.

Sheena brought me more the next day. But the story isn't over. No, a few days later when the guys came back to repair some of the furniture that was damaged during assembly, the condoms mysteriously "reappeared" in one of the boxes that I know for a fact was condom free. And when owner came back to make sure we were satisfied, he asked if I had "Found those things that had been misplaced." Those little brats planted them back in my stuff. It is funny, Sheena can't believe I called them out on it.

I just wish I was a fly on the wall when he went to go talk to them!