Save the bees!

REPORTS OF COLONY COLLASPE DISORDER, WHERE ALL THE BEES IN A HIVE DISAPPEAR, STARTED SURFACING IN LATE 2006 IN THE EASTERN US. The disorder is now in 24 states. Without pollination we could be in real trouble in the future, those tiny little creatures are very vital for the food cycle.

our recent trip to Hawaii

Thought I would share a couple of my favorite photos from our recent trip to Hawaii. We stayed at our favorite place on Kauai, North Country Farms http://www.northcountryfarms.com/index.htm and had the Orchard Cottage this time (as our family is larger since we went three years ago!). We picked fruit and veggies from the garden and drove 5 minutes to the beach and health food store. Jakey did great on the flights (I was a little worried about that, being the spirited toddler that he is!).

we made brownies

We had a great time today making brownies. I'm not really a person who cooks, let alone bakes, but unlike Sara and Jakey, I can read. The kids of course loved licking the spoons and bowl the most!

Peace Rally and March

Today, on the 4th anniversary of the sensless war on Iraq, we attended a peace rally and march downtown. It was inspiring to see so many people (who share our desire for peace) out walking the streets of downtown.

The Births of Seth, Sara, and Jakey

I was pregnant with my 2nd child as my father was dying of cancer, and I was planning my first homebirth. We were living in a rental house on NE 33rd, across from Grant Park, and I was doing childcare for a living. This was to be the first child of my husband, and my son was 7 years old. We found wonderful midwives, and were excited for our baby despite the stress of dealing with my father's progressing illness.
I was 41 weeks pregnant, and my SIL came to town with her two year old (to help care for my son during labor), we went out to dinner at Old Wives Tales and as we were leaving, I had my first contraction. Then, as I stepped out of the car to go into my house, my water broke. Excited, I went upstairs to change out of my wet pants, and there was the mucus plug, and then I had diarrhea. I called my midwives, but told them not to hurry (I ALWAYS worry that midwives will be sitting around waiting and I will be inconveniencing them!) and I walked up and down my stairs for about an hour...my SIL left to a hotel with my son (having OCD, he opted not to be home for the birth, and my husband was clear that he wanted it to be "just us" anyway) and my midwives arrived. I lit candles, put on music, showered, and got into the birth tub and labored with my dh behind me, and after about 10-12 contractions I just wanted to be out of the tub (I was too hot), so I got out and onto my bed, but that wasn't feeling good either, even though I was actively pushing by this time. So I sat on the birth stool and things happened very fast, the head was out, I was panting, and then the chest and body, wow, relief! And then my husband was crying, and I asked what the gender was, and my midwife said "I think I saw balls" and indeed he was a boy, Seth Obsidian, 9 lbs., 2oz. at 2:09am on August 14th, 1999, after 3-4 hours of labor total, and I was so happy not to have torn at all. I felt great, like I could go out for a hike right then. Instead I took a shower and snuggled in bed with my baby and husband. This was such a healing experience for me, the perfect homebirth, after my history of sexual abuse, c-section, and hospital birth trauma, I NEEDED this birth. Only 5 days after my baby was born my father died, the last of my living relatives, and I became an orphan at 28 years old. When Seth was only 10 days old we flew down to LA for the memorial and started the long process of going through my dad's house and posessions, and grieving, I'm so very sad that my dad never got to see the baby, or the next two....




We moved to Ojai, CA when I was pregnant with my third child, and had no idea that we'd have to go "underground" to have a homebirth...because of my prior c-section I wasn't "allowed" to have a homebirth in California, but we found a midwife who was willing to take us, secretly. Even though I had already had a hospital VBAC AND a homebirth ("proving my uterine scar) they still wanted me to birth in a hospital with continuos IV, monitoring, etc.
At almost 43 weeks gestation, and after countless unsuccessful attempts to induce labor, I decided to stop obsessing on the birth, and clean my house instead...I started having contractions while doing the dishes and called the midwife but told her not to rush and then started having REALLY strong contractions, told my husband to fill the tub, the things happened really fast - got in the shower, water broke, baby dropped with a "thunk", I got out of the shower because I thought I needed to poo, made it to the toilet, felt the baby crowning, YELLED for my husband to bring the birth stool and a chux pad, he rushed in and I made it over to the stool with his help and the baby came out, without even one push, right into his hands and he lifted her to my arms...I had a GIRL! My own girl. Sara Kate was born at 12:26pm on July 31, 2001. She cried right away and my midwife walked in to see us all sitting in the bathroom and she got the basin for the placenta and then we moved to the bed and she started pounding on my belly and gave me a shot of pit, and then more pounding, all without telling me why she was doing this and I was crying and begging her to stop and finally she left, and then the photographer arrived, as did the friend we had asked to come and be with our son at the birth, they were amazed that they missed it all12. The whole thing, from start to finish, was just 40 minutes. Everyone had lunch and we made the calls to my husband's family and our friends. Later that night my husband and 2 year old Seth took a bath in the filled but never used AquaDoula birth tub, and in the dats that followed I learned how to tandem nurse while having afterpains that put my labor contractions to shame, oh, I practically cried for an epidural for those afterpains!



My fourth child was also born at home, with my 3 and 5 year olds present, this time a waterbirth, after 3-4 hours of labor...again, I didn't want to call the midwives for fear that I wasn't really close enough, but they ended up arriving about an hour before the birth. I already knew what to do at this point, my body automatically made that low moaning sound that I had to be coached on during my first homebirth, and I was dealing with the contractions really well. My daughter, then 3.5 years, had watched MANY birth videos and at some point asked to get in the tub with me...I glanced up at the midwife and saw her look of disapproval, so I said "no" even though I wanted to say yes - I wanted my midwife's approval more I guess - it's a decision I still regret. My daughter started to cry and I tried to empathize with her and comfort her and hug her over the side of the tub while dealing with the hardest part of my labor (transition). She was so tired and upset and probably sensed that my "no" was uncertain too...I heard one of the midwives say "we need to get this over with" and so I started pushing and gave birth fairly quickly and quite painfully (as opposed to the others), to my 8 lb. son under the water. Jacob Orion was born at 6:14pm on December 17th, 2004. He wasn't breathing at all, just seemed to me to be sleeping actually, so they sent the kids out and gave him some oxygen, and he started up right away. Then we moved over to the couch and I pushed out the placenta and we called the kids back in to cut the cord and as we were admiring the baby we noticed that he had 6 fingers on each hand and 6 toes on each foot. At first, I was quite amused, I thought it had to have some spiritual significance or something- I was wondering how he would learn to count and joked about the metric system and saying "gimmee six!", etc. and then I saw the look on my midwives' faces, they were very concerned because polydactyly is often the sign of a much more severe defect, often a heart defect, and they needed to give him a complete exam, but they still didn't say anything to me, didn't really know what to do or say I think because they had never had this kind of case before. When my midwife checked me afterwards she said I didn't tear at all (she actually said "you could practically have sex tonight" which was kind of weird). I started to cry about my son, wondering if he would live, wanting reassurance he would be OK, and the midwives left, without really saying much at all to reassure me. I was up all night, researching on the internet, having terrible afterpains, holding my newborn son to my chest, bleeding through my pants down to the floor, and feeling very alone, and this started a downward spiral of questions, research, tests that I didn't want him subjected to, worry, severe postpartum depression, surgeries, and deep wounds to my marriage and all of my other relationships...

The birth of Makenna

When my son was almost 2 years old, I met some of the most lovely people in the world. Ken and Kathleen had just lost their son, who they had adopted 6 months earlier, back to his birthparents. They were devastated, to say the least, as they had gone through 12 years of heartbreaking infertility treatment prior to the adoption. I decided to be a gestational (not using my own eggs) surrogate carrier for them and we started the long process of finding an egg donor, signing legal agreements, counseling, and then, IVF/embryo transfer and I got to find out a little of what it's like (physically) to go through infertility. As they synced up the egg-donor's cycle with mine, we went in for the embryo transfers (with Kathleen holding my hand), and twice, nothing happened. On the third round, they de-frosted 6 of Ken and Kathleen's frozen embryos, hoping that 4 would survive the process (with a 25% chance of each one implanting, they were putting in 4 at a time) and all 6 survived the de-frosting, so they put in 6! Well, that was the time I got pregnant! After 12 more weeks of daily progestorone shots and several vaginal ultrasounds, and other high-tech managment, I was finally released to an OB and I was determined to have a VBAC (vaginal birth after ceasarean), having read lots about birth and c-section recovery by that time. Ken and Kathleen were thrilled to be having their own baby (that nobody could take away!), and we all took hospital birth classes together, survived an earthquake (they helped us move due to the Northridge Earthquake when I was 7 months pregnant), and Kathleen and i talked on the phone daily and became very close friends. She went to every OB appointment and we had an amniocentesis (their egg donor was over 35) and found out I was carrying a girl. Well, I went to 41 weeks, they did an ultrasound and determined that my fluid was low, and I was sent to the hospital to be induced that day. I was so happy, and it was like a party, my son Morgan was 2 years old and he was there (with my ex) the whole time, and Ken and Kathleen were with me as I was hooked up to Pit and they broke my water and I started having contractions, the first I had ever felt in my life! Little did I know that those interventions were BAD, and that it's next to impossible to handle Pit contractions with only hospital class breathing techniques behind you, and after 4-5 hours of unbearbale pain, I got an epidural, then I had constant monitoring, and slept for a bit, and a few hours later I was ready to push, which was the craziest thing ever, in retrospect, pushing uphhill as I lay on my back, having been barely able to feel anything for hours prior. Finally my OB, knowing how determined I was to have a VBAC, vaccuum suctioned the baby out of me, and I tore terribly. But, Ken and Kathleen had their long awaited, healthy 9.5 lb. baby girl and they cried, and I cried, and I took videos of them holding her while I was being stitched up and it was so very magical. After a while I was wheeled to my room, where I could better care for my 2 year old, and we talked about the night and laughed and endless people came in and talked to me, making sure I knew what I was doing in signing the baby over (they really couldn't "get" that I wasn't a birthmother, that I had spent almost a year TRYING to get pregnant with THEIR baby, who wasn't even related to me!) and I asked to go home that morning (baby was born at 7:30am) and they made me wait until the afternoon, but I did go home (with terrible bottom pain for weeks!) and Ken and Kathleen took their baby home the same day and we talked later that evening on the phone. I was so happy to have a cigarette (I hadn't smoked at all during the IVF or the pregnancy) again, and of course should never have started back up, but oh man, it felt good at the time. And, I had some hard days when my milk came in, but never had feelings of wanting the baby, after all it was Kathleen's baby all along, and I was very clear about that. We did talk and get together a lot in the next couple of years, but it has lessened as both our families have increased and we moved away from Los Angeles (they had twins several years later with another surrogate). Makenna knows her whole story and we've talked many times about how I'll always be available for any questions, she's 13 years old now.

The birth of Morgan

Morgan James was born in December, after a difficult pregnancy. I was 20 years old, and scared, but elated to be pregnant. I was married and working full time to support myself and my musician (now ex) husband, while attending nursing school in the evenings. The pregnancy went smoothly, though getting medical insurance was impossible. After months of jumping through hoops trying to get prenatal care covered through the state, I finally just went to the county clinic for prenatal care, where they gave me a pap smear (at 28 weeks gestation) as I hadn't had one earlier in the pregnancy/year. They treated me rudely, asked if I had ever heard of birth control, and then left the (pinching) speculum inside me while they left the room for over 10 minutes. Later that night, when I woke up to pee, I noticed something dark on the toilet seat, so I turned on the light, and there was blood...bright red blood everywhere, all over the bathroom, all over me! I woke my husband (who didn't drive due to his anxiety issues) and drove myself to the closest hospital - they were reluctant to treat me without insurance, so I was sent to LA County hospital instead...turns out the pap smear had dilated my cervix and the cause of bleeding was the placenta (a marginal previa that would have likely resolved itself if not for the the pap smear). They sent me home that night, but the next day I started bleeding again while I was at work and I was terrified, and drove myself straight to the county hospital. They admitted me to the obstetrical ICU with a diagnosis of placenta previa (after several invasive vaginal ultrasounds) and I was put on bed rest, IV drugs to stop labor, and was prodded daily by teaching staff and insensitive doctors. That was November 15th and I stayed in the hospital through Thanksgiving, until December 5th, when I was finally released on bed rest and oral meds at home. Of course the financial and emotional stress was considerable, as I could no longer work and my ex-husband still did not get a job at that point, or even help wash the dishes. On December 23rd, as I got up from my bed to go to the bathroom, I started to hemorrhage again, so I went back to the hospital where I was given an emergency c-section very late at night, all alone (my ex-husband was totally high and too busy rehearsing for a gig when I called to let him know his baby was going to be born), and I was utterly terrified. I have never felt so alone in my life, my mom had died 6 years earlier and I called to her in my mind, to protect us. Then, I was so drugged that when they announced it was a boy, I was confused, I think I said something like "oh, wow, someone had a baby?" and then I remembered and I couldn't move and just wanted to see him. I asked questions, like "how much does he weigh?" and they laughed at me because I guess I was still sort of incoherent from the meds. After the surgery, in the recovery room, I was upset, I thrashed around and cried and wanted to see my baby and hold my baby, but they just pumped me up with more drugs to calm me. Morgan was born at 35 weeks gestation, weighing 5lbs. and 13oz., in the wee hours of December 24th, 1991. My little son was whisked off to the NICU, and I stayed awake for the next 11 hours, begging to see him, asking them to bring me to him or bring him to me. I was crying, yearning, and sinking into a deep depression and sense of disconnection. I asked for a picture of him, news of his health, anything - and hey kept telling me to sleep! When I finally was allowed to get out of bed, after 11 hours of separation, I was wheeled down to the NICU and had the surreal experience of seeing my child for the first time while a brusk Dr. I had never met before quizzed me as if I were to blame for the premature birth ("what drugs did you take during your pregnancy?", "why don't you have insurance?" etc.). For a long time I believed that I was responsible. I desperatly wanted to pick my baby up and hold him next to my body, but was told I could only touch him. I just wanted a moment of peace to look at my child, but it was so noisy and bright. I yearned to put him to my breast to nurse and was told he was receiving everything he needed through his IV (well, of course he wasn't!). I wasn't allowed to stay with him very long, they constantly said I needed to get back to my bed and get some rest, and let my baby rest, they would take good care of him. They came to my room and happily reported to me that he started drinking from a bottle- "no!" I said, "I want to breastfeed" and they said I really shouldn't bother, that I would be making him work too hard to get the nutrition he needed to put on weight, and that it would be harder for me, would tie me down. I asked for a breast pump, they had a hand pump and I tried to figure out how to use it on my own in my hospital room, between well-meaning vistors, and I became discouraged - didn't know why I wasn't getting any milk out, and all the while I was continually talked down to, and treated like crap by the staff, especially the people in the NICU. They discharged me from the hospital after 2 days, and kept my son there for another 3 days. It was difficult to get back and forth from my apartment to the hospital, my incision hurt, and I had nobody for support - my husband was useless, and I had no mother, no sisters, no friends who had given birth...my milk came in at home in the middle of night when I wasn't near my baby, and I was painfully engorged, had night sweats, and missed my baby terribly...I cried all night and my husband thought I was losing my mind- when I brought my milk to the hospital in a cooler, they put it aside and didn't use it, and then when I asked about it, they said it had been sitting out too long! I finally got my baby home and finally was able to find and travel to a lactation specialist, and from that point it still took about 3 months to be able to nurse him without the SNS. I slept with him next to me (but didn't tell anyone!) and slowly, slowly, we bonded with each other, and I became a mother. The story goes on of course, through a painful divorce, poverty, my father's illness and death, and my son's anxiety disorder that has made connecting continually challenging- but the story is also one of survival together, of re-connection and healing, and overcoming challenges...anyway, I'll stop now.

Welcome to my blog.

I've been wanting to do this for a long time, but just haven't. I hope this will help me keep in touch with family and friends and be fun for the kids too. I will start with my birth stories, because, why not?