Forgiveness is
remembering
to act with
a stranger
akin to a friend:
by letting their mistake
be held
by the waves of our
compassion
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Sunday, April 13, 2014
the culture of grief - triggered feeling of loss
As I witnessed two of my friends lose a child a year and a half ago, as an observer, I had the privilege to see the detrimental [lack of] knowledge of how to handle grief. With all the empathy in my heart, I struggled every day to find words to express my condolences. Words failed me. A part of me knew undeniably that I could NOT understand DEEP DOWN what loss really was.
Fast forward. March 2014.
After an unassisted miscarriage of Eden, my 10 week pregnancy, in my private bathroom, it hit me. I was beginning to understand what loss is. First, physically. Then, emotionally... and perhaps finally, spiritually.
The physicality of absence was not the hardest: I could hold in my hand my perfect placenta, amniotic sac and baby in my hand. I could leave him/her in my private bathroom, with a candle on, unable to separate fully from my sweet smallest creation. The thought of burying my child was unconceivable - especially in four feet of snow. I had an excuse to keep him/her nearby. Eventually... I knew I'd have to do something. Babies don't keep forever in this way. I thus decided to create my own ritual with salt and flowers, and essential oils, in hopes of drying what was left of my pregnancy. Hard times where my heart could have imploded. Then, we had a funeral. As we couldn't bury our child, we put him/her in a pouch [which still sits under my pillow - an improvement from carrying it around everywhere.]
The emotional [also hormonal] aspect of loss is misunderstood. Almost a month after, I still have good days - and I have days of feeling lost. My biggest fear is that Eden will be forgotten. Or that [we] will pretend it never happened. I cannot bear that thought - I want him/her in my blood, womb, in my skin. I want it written all over me: Eden was here, and will be forever missed. Not a day goes by without a thought for Eden - and for the possibilities of Eden on earth.
I am not sure I can grasp the spiritual aspect of loss. There is a presence that hovers over me, with me at all times, yet there is a lack of in my heart. Those days, I just want to be held - and be aloud to cry on your shoulder. One never heals this loss - one just lives with it. Forever.
Fast forward. March 2014.
After an unassisted miscarriage of Eden, my 10 week pregnancy, in my private bathroom, it hit me. I was beginning to understand what loss is. First, physically. Then, emotionally... and perhaps finally, spiritually.
The physicality of absence was not the hardest: I could hold in my hand my perfect placenta, amniotic sac and baby in my hand. I could leave him/her in my private bathroom, with a candle on, unable to separate fully from my sweet smallest creation. The thought of burying my child was unconceivable - especially in four feet of snow. I had an excuse to keep him/her nearby. Eventually... I knew I'd have to do something. Babies don't keep forever in this way. I thus decided to create my own ritual with salt and flowers, and essential oils, in hopes of drying what was left of my pregnancy. Hard times where my heart could have imploded. Then, we had a funeral. As we couldn't bury our child, we put him/her in a pouch [which still sits under my pillow - an improvement from carrying it around everywhere.]
The emotional [also hormonal] aspect of loss is misunderstood. Almost a month after, I still have good days - and I have days of feeling lost. My biggest fear is that Eden will be forgotten. Or that [we] will pretend it never happened. I cannot bear that thought - I want him/her in my blood, womb, in my skin. I want it written all over me: Eden was here, and will be forever missed. Not a day goes by without a thought for Eden - and for the possibilities of Eden on earth.
I am not sure I can grasp the spiritual aspect of loss. There is a presence that hovers over me, with me at all times, yet there is a lack of in my heart. Those days, I just want to be held - and be aloud to cry on your shoulder. One never heals this loss - one just lives with it. Forever.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Holding on to a trend: the use of ultrasound in pregnancy
Published in "Birth and Babies" volume 1. Spring 2012.
The use of ultrasound has become common practice in pregnancy and delivery ~ so common that providers often don’t think to discuss its use. However, a large body of research questions its safety.
In her book Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering, Sarah Buckley, MD. devotes a whole chapter to the subject, titled: Ultrasound Scans ~ Cause for Concern, where she points out the reality of its use: "[...] it is important to realize that ultrasound technology is very new and relatively untested, in terms of safety" (p. 78). (1)
In his article Ultrasound, More Harm Than Good, Marsden Wagner speaks of the dangers of ultrasonography and the unknown of its effects. (2)
In Journal of Nurse-Midwifery, Doris Haire writes:
“There is a growing concern among consumers and health care providers that the immediate benefits of diagnostic ultrasound used in obstetrics may not outweigh the potential risks. Dr. Melvin E. Stratmeyer, of the Center for Devices and Radiologic Health (CDRH), recently confirmed an earlier statement by the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA) that expressed the following concerns: Increasing concern has arisen regarding the fetal safety of widely used diagnostic ultrasound in obstetrics. Animal studies have been reported to reveal delayed neuromuscular development, altered emotional behavior, EEG changes, anomalies, and decreased survival. Genetic alterations have also been demonstrated in in vitro systems. Millions of women and their unborn children are being exposed to diagnostic ultrasound before the long-term effects on human development of such exposure are fully understood. [...] Fetuses are often exposed to prolonged sonography because the physician or technician lacks sufficient expertise in evaluating what be or she is seeing.” (3)
EFM (electro fetal monitor[ing])
In hospitals, the protocol usually involves the use of constant (or intermittent) electro fetal monitoring. This implies that women in labor need to sit semi-prone in bed while a tracing can be made of the fetal heart tones in relation to her contraction.
However, the research shows that: “Twenty-five years after electronic fetal monitoring became a part of intrapartum care, ... it is yet to be proved of value in predicting or preventing neurologic morbidity.” (4)
The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) has issued a technical bulletin that states: “No well-controlled study has yet proved that routine scanning of all prenatal patients will improve the outcome of pregnancy.” (5)
One may ask why EFM is still part of the care in hospitals if its use is controversial and if the research realities don’t seem to show any improved outcomes, if it’s extremely uncomfortable for mother and babies (the sounds is comparative to a train driving by), let alone possibly dangerous?
In “Understanding Diagnostic Tests”, Anne Frye explains why this practice is still a trend beyond the research realities: “The problems with ultrasound are many. Unborn babies are being exposed routinely to a technology that has not been proven safe. Practitioners are becoming so dependent on the machines that they are losing their hands-on skills. As they become less and less connected with the essential process of birth, they frequently communicate fear to mother and baby about possible negative outcomes. Routine use of scanning, presented as necessary and to see "if your baby is alright" covertly and overtly implies that a scan can absolutely rule out fetal variations and defects. Women and families are led to believe that modern technology can guarantee them a perfect baby. It is imperative that as midwives we counter this worldwide cultural trend by being very clear with clients about the risks, benefits and deficiencies of ultrasound exam procedures and by emphasizing that no one can guarantee anything in life or in birth. Parents must be told in no uncertain terms that scans look for specific defects and that it is unrealistic to expect detection of all fetal anomalies regardless of the methods used and the stage of pregnancy when the exam takes place, even with the most exert ad thorough scanning." (6)
Dopplers
In many practices in the US and in Canada, birth workers use dopplers to check fetal heart tones at every prenatal visit. Many providers don’t mention that the doppler is an ultrasound, thus failing to inform women of an important choice. In Understanding Diagnostic Tests, Anne Frye writes: "In general, fetuses move away from the Doppler beam. Many midwives have concluded that babies don't like them and certainly if Doppler is audible, this could explain fetal aversion as well. [...] However, unlike imaging ultrasound, Doppler devices are always ‘on’, emitting radiation. Continuous wave devices receive and analyze the echoes constantly, and are often used for many hours at a time." (6)
There is a place for intervention, and there is a place for close monitoring. However, automatic monitoring of a normal function such as a normal pregnancy and birth may bring dramatic consequences for babies. Like many technologies, we just DON'T KNOW the long terms effect of ultrasounds on babies ~ we can only speculate. In doubt, I opt to pass, and will go for the old fetoscope. At least, I KNOW I'm not hurting any babies.
The use of ultrasound has become common practice in pregnancy and delivery ~ so common that providers often don’t think to discuss its use. However, a large body of research questions its safety.
In her book Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering, Sarah Buckley, MD. devotes a whole chapter to the subject, titled: Ultrasound Scans ~ Cause for Concern, where she points out the reality of its use: "[...] it is important to realize that ultrasound technology is very new and relatively untested, in terms of safety" (p. 78). (1)
In his article Ultrasound, More Harm Than Good, Marsden Wagner speaks of the dangers of ultrasonography and the unknown of its effects. (2)
In Journal of Nurse-Midwifery, Doris Haire writes:
“There is a growing concern among consumers and health care providers that the immediate benefits of diagnostic ultrasound used in obstetrics may not outweigh the potential risks. Dr. Melvin E. Stratmeyer, of the Center for Devices and Radiologic Health (CDRH), recently confirmed an earlier statement by the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA) that expressed the following concerns: Increasing concern has arisen regarding the fetal safety of widely used diagnostic ultrasound in obstetrics. Animal studies have been reported to reveal delayed neuromuscular development, altered emotional behavior, EEG changes, anomalies, and decreased survival. Genetic alterations have also been demonstrated in in vitro systems. Millions of women and their unborn children are being exposed to diagnostic ultrasound before the long-term effects on human development of such exposure are fully understood. [...] Fetuses are often exposed to prolonged sonography because the physician or technician lacks sufficient expertise in evaluating what be or she is seeing.” (3)
EFM (electro fetal monitor[ing])
In hospitals, the protocol usually involves the use of constant (or intermittent) electro fetal monitoring. This implies that women in labor need to sit semi-prone in bed while a tracing can be made of the fetal heart tones in relation to her contraction.
However, the research shows that: “Twenty-five years after electronic fetal monitoring became a part of intrapartum care, ... it is yet to be proved of value in predicting or preventing neurologic morbidity.” (4)
The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) has issued a technical bulletin that states: “No well-controlled study has yet proved that routine scanning of all prenatal patients will improve the outcome of pregnancy.” (5)
One may ask why EFM is still part of the care in hospitals if its use is controversial and if the research realities don’t seem to show any improved outcomes, if it’s extremely uncomfortable for mother and babies (the sounds is comparative to a train driving by), let alone possibly dangerous?
In “Understanding Diagnostic Tests”, Anne Frye explains why this practice is still a trend beyond the research realities: “The problems with ultrasound are many. Unborn babies are being exposed routinely to a technology that has not been proven safe. Practitioners are becoming so dependent on the machines that they are losing their hands-on skills. As they become less and less connected with the essential process of birth, they frequently communicate fear to mother and baby about possible negative outcomes. Routine use of scanning, presented as necessary and to see "if your baby is alright" covertly and overtly implies that a scan can absolutely rule out fetal variations and defects. Women and families are led to believe that modern technology can guarantee them a perfect baby. It is imperative that as midwives we counter this worldwide cultural trend by being very clear with clients about the risks, benefits and deficiencies of ultrasound exam procedures and by emphasizing that no one can guarantee anything in life or in birth. Parents must be told in no uncertain terms that scans look for specific defects and that it is unrealistic to expect detection of all fetal anomalies regardless of the methods used and the stage of pregnancy when the exam takes place, even with the most exert ad thorough scanning." (6)
Dopplers
In many practices in the US and in Canada, birth workers use dopplers to check fetal heart tones at every prenatal visit. Many providers don’t mention that the doppler is an ultrasound, thus failing to inform women of an important choice. In Understanding Diagnostic Tests, Anne Frye writes: "In general, fetuses move away from the Doppler beam. Many midwives have concluded that babies don't like them and certainly if Doppler is audible, this could explain fetal aversion as well. [...] However, unlike imaging ultrasound, Doppler devices are always ‘on’, emitting radiation. Continuous wave devices receive and analyze the echoes constantly, and are often used for many hours at a time." (6)
There is a place for intervention, and there is a place for close monitoring. However, automatic monitoring of a normal function such as a normal pregnancy and birth may bring dramatic consequences for babies. Like many technologies, we just DON'T KNOW the long terms effect of ultrasounds on babies ~ we can only speculate. In doubt, I opt to pass, and will go for the old fetoscope. At least, I KNOW I'm not hurting any babies.
(1) Sarah Buckley. (2005). Ultrasounds: cause for concern. Retrieved from: http://www.sarahbuckley.com/ultrasound-scans-cause-for-concern/
(2) Marsden Wagner. (1999). Ultrasound: more harm than good? Retrieved from: http://www.midwiferytoday.com/articles/ultrasoundwagner.asp
(3) Journal of Nurse-Midwifery Vol. 29, No. 4 July/August 1984
(4) Rosen and Dickinson (1993. In Henci Goer. Obstetric Myths Versus Research Realities, p. 131.
(5) Diagnostic ultrasound In obstetrics and gynecology Tech. Bull. No. 63 American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists. October 1985.
(6) Anne Frye. Understanding Diagnostic Tests, p. 919-921.
©2012 paule bezaire
(6) Anne Frye. Understanding Diagnostic Tests, p. 919-921.
©2012 paule bezaire
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
emptiness of the lonely [a post from january 2009.]
Once upon a time, in a land of exile,... the loneliness at times sets in; a time where one's language feels so far away that even the thoughts can't seem to come at all - not in one's maternal tongue, neither in the second language. It's like being in between - on the fence - not totally part of one, or the other. Not taking sides, but never belonging either.
Those times, the winter feels long - like a white plain in a cold sun, the snow reflecting painfully the light; one only wants to take cover, out of sight - a safe refuge.
Those times, one longs for one's own tongue - one's mother's tongue.
Not that living / thinking / speaking in a second language is really the worst medicine. It's more the impossibility of being really oneself that leaves an after taste, when exposed for extended periods of time.
Once, a long time ago, I thought "I want[ed] to be a glass teacup where you can see what you drinks. I want[ed] transparency."
Only in safety can one long for transparency; the impossibility of being genuinely oneself sets in when living in a strange world. When in a vulnerable universe, one can only barricade behind the wide walls of translation, can only pretend, and never ever getting any closer than the distorting glass window.
Those times, the winter feels long - like a white plain in a cold sun, the snow reflecting painfully the light; one only wants to take cover, out of sight - a safe refuge.
Those times, one longs for one's own tongue - one's mother's tongue.
Not that living / thinking / speaking in a second language is really the worst medicine. It's more the impossibility of being really oneself that leaves an after taste, when exposed for extended periods of time.
Once, a long time ago, I thought "I want[ed] to be a glass teacup where you can see what you drinks. I want[ed] transparency."
Only in safety can one long for transparency; the impossibility of being genuinely oneself sets in when living in a strange world. When in a vulnerable universe, one can only barricade behind the wide walls of translation, can only pretend, and never ever getting any closer than the distorting glass window.
humanity in becoming
[sharing a post from may 2009. still accurate, somehow...]
i am only human - with my own impatience. at times, i've cross that boundary - the one i've never wanted to cross. that one i've been working so hard not to cross - that distinction i want to have from the past, to the present, and into the future. guilt raises, yet it is unhelpful.
as a human in flux, in becoming, i long for the wisdom. for the patience. for the understanding and insight.
how much work is involved in becoming this perfect being that i long for. but only forgiveness can bring me there.
apologies, my beloved, for my shortcomings. for being more human that i wish for.
i forgive the universe itself, for being what it is, and maybe in my forgiveness, will i find the empathy for all of the beings around me, and find the patience for their own shortcomings. the patience for wisdom. the patience i need to be me.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
st john's tide and the height of the summer
In the past year or so, I have found myself in an unexpected place. Several of my friends have had losses, which have brought me to develop new abilities in my serving role. Be an early loss, a still birth, or the loss of a partner, these loses have given me the opportunity to reflect on the subject. Often: while driving; while weeding. And as I live in vermont, we do A LOT of both.
More recently, one of my friends has unexpectedly lost her husband. Two weeks later, the twins they were going to adopt were born. I have witnessed my friend going through these extreme emotions daily, navigating them at the best of her abilities, with the support she has (which is enormous, fortunately.)
Just as St John's Tide, at the height the summer, offers its buzzing outward pull, a need for peace and quiet arises. In the midsts of this euphoria, a need for outward connection while coexists a pull towards inner contemplation. A feeling arises, deep down, that I am here to serve my purpose. In the middle of the most benign task, I am remembered that through hovering in selflessness, I may reach my potential. Could I truly be at a better place than here, serving a woman, and her daughters, in joy and grief? I witness one of the painful oppositions of this earth: life and death, in close confinement, remind me daily of the dichotomies of life, and of destiny, at times felt as an absurdity.
There are no coincidences. While at a book sale, I found a book that looked interesting: "Healing into life and death". A week later, I found it on my friend's bedtime table. Perhaps it is time for the first chapter of that book...
Sunday, January 23, 2011
10 cm ~ just a metric system measure that means what?!?!?
Snowy white and sunny freezing day in these hills, and I thought i'd catch up on some reading: the midwife's thinking blog regarding anterior lips made me think a lot about birth. Ok. Perhaps it already was on my mind. Regardless, i've been thinking.
My first thought was: "How would we know there's an anterior lip?" Not that i particularly want to feel that experience (for the record, i had one in my last labor ~ and why i know is another whole theme we can explore another day...)... It made me realize that it would mean that we'd have to be checking down there, intruding fingers in a sacred place, in a very intimate gesture.
My second thought brought me back to Claire Hall's amazing blog on birth and the male mindset, and how childbirth and the mere thought of checking a cervix is a very masculine concept, one that doesn't particularly pertain to women's reality of childbirth, or the act of labor (which is more than the addition of all its components.)
This reliably brings me back to those *#@% vaginal exams: those exams that most women fear, yet that they indulge into. perhaps that was not the right word... Perhaps i should rephrase this, and say that our birth culture imposes on women a certain set of "rules", which includes the vaginal exam. However, if we think about how vaginal exams got introduced in this birth culture, we realize that it is history, and the medicalization of childbirth, with twilight sleep and babies being pulled out with forceps that first introduced vaginal exams. And that the realization that pulling on a baby before the cervix was opened at 10 cm made the forceps tore the cervix.
However, the totally irrelevance of vaginal exams is is a hard reality to face, when in labor. As we've been socialized in believing that birth is about a cervix dilating, even a well-versed homebirthing woman may be caught in the trap. When will we learn to leave well alone, as Sarah Buckley says?
It just starts at education ~ at the very culture that we live in, and changing its paradigm. Long journey ~ but there are many working at it...
Namaste on those birthing mothers...
My first thought was: "How would we know there's an anterior lip?" Not that i particularly want to feel that experience (for the record, i had one in my last labor ~ and why i know is another whole theme we can explore another day...)... It made me realize that it would mean that we'd have to be checking down there, intruding fingers in a sacred place, in a very intimate gesture.
My second thought brought me back to Claire Hall's amazing blog on birth and the male mindset, and how childbirth and the mere thought of checking a cervix is a very masculine concept, one that doesn't particularly pertain to women's reality of childbirth, or the act of labor (which is more than the addition of all its components.)
This reliably brings me back to those *#@% vaginal exams: those exams that most women fear, yet that they indulge into. perhaps that was not the right word... Perhaps i should rephrase this, and say that our birth culture imposes on women a certain set of "rules", which includes the vaginal exam. However, if we think about how vaginal exams got introduced in this birth culture, we realize that it is history, and the medicalization of childbirth, with twilight sleep and babies being pulled out with forceps that first introduced vaginal exams. And that the realization that pulling on a baby before the cervix was opened at 10 cm made the forceps tore the cervix.
However, the totally irrelevance of vaginal exams is is a hard reality to face, when in labor. As we've been socialized in believing that birth is about a cervix dilating, even a well-versed homebirthing woman may be caught in the trap. When will we learn to leave well alone, as Sarah Buckley says?
It just starts at education ~ at the very culture that we live in, and changing its paradigm. Long journey ~ but there are many working at it...
Namaste on those birthing mothers...
Thursday, January 20, 2011
pregnancy is not a disease: nutrition for gestation
Pregnancy is the only moment in a woman's life where she is potentially probed and pricked in health. She is scrutinized for all the potential complications that could happen, should she deviate from the "norm".
One of the things to be noticed is that all the focus and energy is spent on the "what ifs" and on disease, rather than focusing what a woman can do for her health and the well-being and that of her baby. One of the most important part of prenatal care is what a woman does for herself, mainly in the area of emotional, spiritual, psychological, and yes, physical well-being.
In terms of physical well-being, exercise is an important factor to remember, and so is nutrition. In Holistic Midwifery (vol. 1), Anne Frye writes: "Adequate nutrition is the single most important physical factor in determining the outcome of pregnancy." (p. 204) On his part, Tom Brewer, M.D., writes: "On my list of concerns about my pregnant patients' welfare, nutrition ranks second only to breathing. The reason is simple: well-nourished women develop far fewer complications in pregnancy, have more efficient labors, and give birth more easily to healthier babies than do their poorly nourished sisters.” (http://www.drbrewerpregnancydiet.com/id94.html
Too often, women are stuck to a number ~ that of pounds to gain ~ or to the societal obsession of weight gain and its pressure of "beauty". In pregnancy, however, the weight gain is primordial for baby's growth ~ not only physical growth, but also development, including the brain.
Proper nourishment not only insures proper development of a baby's potential, but it is also protective: it "allows the blood volume to expand adequately, preventing toxemia and bringing the mother and baby to labor with the maximum reserves for withstanding the stress of birth." (Holistic Midwifery 1, p. 204) Or as Dr. Tom Brewer writes: “[nutrition] is an insurance policy, a form of protection against some of the most common and most serious problems that could befall you or your unborn baby--those caused by poor nutrition.” (http://www.drbrewerpregnancydiet.com/id94.html)
Instead of counting a woman's weight gain in pounds, can we start calculating it in grams of love, commitment, faithfulness to her health... and trust in her body?
One of the things to be noticed is that all the focus and energy is spent on the "what ifs" and on disease, rather than focusing what a woman can do for her health and the well-being and that of her baby. One of the most important part of prenatal care is what a woman does for herself, mainly in the area of emotional, spiritual, psychological, and yes, physical well-being.
In terms of physical well-being, exercise is an important factor to remember, and so is nutrition. In Holistic Midwifery (vol. 1), Anne Frye writes: "Adequate nutrition is the single most important physical factor in determining the outcome of pregnancy." (p. 204) On his part, Tom Brewer, M.D., writes: "On my list of concerns about my pregnant patients' welfare, nutrition ranks second only to breathing. The reason is simple: well-nourished women develop far fewer complications in pregnancy, have more efficient labors, and give birth more easily to healthier babies than do their poorly nourished sisters.” (http://www.drbrewerpregnancydiet.com/id94.html
Too often, women are stuck to a number ~ that of pounds to gain ~ or to the societal obsession of weight gain and its pressure of "beauty". In pregnancy, however, the weight gain is primordial for baby's growth ~ not only physical growth, but also development, including the brain.
Proper nourishment not only insures proper development of a baby's potential, but it is also protective: it "allows the blood volume to expand adequately, preventing toxemia and bringing the mother and baby to labor with the maximum reserves for withstanding the stress of birth." (Holistic Midwifery 1, p. 204) Or as Dr. Tom Brewer writes: “[nutrition] is an insurance policy, a form of protection against some of the most common and most serious problems that could befall you or your unborn baby--those caused by poor nutrition.” (http://www.drbrewerpregnancydiet.com/id94.html)
Instead of counting a woman's weight gain in pounds, can we start calculating it in grams of love, commitment, faithfulness to her health... and trust in her body?
Monday, January 17, 2011
bearing witness and birth healing
A little update may be needed since the summer post. Life has been full in Vermont ~ between studies, apprenticeships, birth support, placenta encapsulation, child birth education... Fullness!
Regardless, there is still desire to tell the truth: birth is safe. Especially when not hindered and interfered with by a provider.
Something else I've witnessed in the past few days: we all have our birth stories, and are eager to heal.
As I taught a CBE class last week, I found myself with a client and her educator. As I went through the information I had gathered for this purpose, I realized that the educator, who had gone through the childbirth process four months ago, had not processed her birth. Sadly, there was a need that could not be met in this forum, as I could not bear witness while trying to teach.
O, how do we need such a service for women and families... Perhaps this should be a new title to add to my competencies: bearing witness and birth healing...
Regardless, there is still desire to tell the truth: birth is safe. Especially when not hindered and interfered with by a provider.
Something else I've witnessed in the past few days: we all have our birth stories, and are eager to heal.
As I taught a CBE class last week, I found myself with a client and her educator. As I went through the information I had gathered for this purpose, I realized that the educator, who had gone through the childbirth process four months ago, had not processed her birth. Sadly, there was a need that could not be met in this forum, as I could not bear witness while trying to teach.
O, how do we need such a service for women and families... Perhaps this should be a new title to add to my competencies: bearing witness and birth healing...
Sunday, July 4, 2010
CRH: what the research says
The National Institutes of Health (NIH) conducted a study that focused on CRH (Corticotropin-Releasing Hormone), an hormone produced by the hypothalamus, and an important stress reducer. It was found that the placenta secretes CRH in pregnancy, and that in the third trimester, the levels in the bloodstream increases threefold.
However, in the postpartum period, the lower than average levels of CRH triggered depressive symptoms. This led researchers to conclude that the production of CRH by the placenta in pregnancy brought the hypothalamus to stop its production; after the birth of the placenta, women found their bodies lacking in CRH, and that it took considerable time for the hypothalamus to compensate and start its production of CRH.
The placenta has been used in Traditional Chinese medicine for thousands of years. A 1954 study has shown positive results (86%) in increasing milk supply in women expected to have a difficult lactation by giving them dried placenta to consume. More recently, research has shown that placentophagy may enhance pain tolerance by increasing opium-like substances activated in childbirth.
However, in the postpartum period, the lower than average levels of CRH triggered depressive symptoms. This led researchers to conclude that the production of CRH by the placenta in pregnancy brought the hypothalamus to stop its production; after the birth of the placenta, women found their bodies lacking in CRH, and that it took considerable time for the hypothalamus to compensate and start its production of CRH.
The placenta has been used in Traditional Chinese medicine for thousands of years. A 1954 study has shown positive results (86%) in increasing milk supply in women expected to have a difficult lactation by giving them dried placenta to consume. More recently, research has shown that placentophagy may enhance pain tolerance by increasing opium-like substances activated in childbirth.
Monday, December 28, 2009
those days of waiting...
the last few weeks of pregnancy are, for some, moments of anticipation and excitement. when the moment of birth feels delayed, this moment can be particularly difficult for mothers: not only do mothers have to sustain physically her child, and her own anticipation, but she also has to endure others' impatience too ~ the constant various nagging comments that go from "so, when are you going to pop that baby?" to the "it's only getting bigger" of impatient caregivers. just bear in mind that time-related comments are just not the best humor for mothers waiting for their child's birth.
to clarify a few of these issues, let's note that unless there is some reason to suspect that something is not going fine, there is no need to induce. babies don't grow bigger overnight, and even at 42 weeks, the weight babies put on is extra body fat: the head does not grow that much bigger over night either. and it is the head that needs to come through smoothly ~ the body fat doesn't have much impact on the delivery itself.
o, those last few days, weeks ~ how difficult to develop the patient to just wait, and be so dependent on ~ who's will? these are difficult moments, but they only prepare for motherhood in the sense that they stimulate those needed patience genes, and the awareness that sometimes, things don't go as planned.
blessings on all you mothers, out there, waiting for baby, exerting your patience...
to clarify a few of these issues, let's note that unless there is some reason to suspect that something is not going fine, there is no need to induce. babies don't grow bigger overnight, and even at 42 weeks, the weight babies put on is extra body fat: the head does not grow that much bigger over night either. and it is the head that needs to come through smoothly ~ the body fat doesn't have much impact on the delivery itself.
o, those last few days, weeks ~ how difficult to develop the patient to just wait, and be so dependent on ~ who's will? these are difficult moments, but they only prepare for motherhood in the sense that they stimulate those needed patience genes, and the awareness that sometimes, things don't go as planned.
blessings on all you mothers, out there, waiting for baby, exerting your patience...
Monday, December 7, 2009
holding in my heart
being a doula is one of the most wonderful activities there can be ~ supporting women and families in birth is truly rewarding: seeing birth become an empowering experience is the best reward there can ever be.
and then, there are moments ~ long stretch of times where the human spirit is darkened by fear. when providers impose an irrational protocol on a human being ~ trying to make her fit within statistics... when technology becomes intrusive, that's when we know we've gone too far.
at times, when mother and family agree with procedures, and they have been fully informed, i grind my teeth, breathe deeply and let it go: i can support without judgment even in disagreement. but when i feel within my soul how hurt the family feels, how opposed they are to the procedure, that's when my duty becomes the most painful thing in the world: protecting against the damages of technology, and others' [e.g doctor's] fears.
the line is thin, though. as a doula, i am here to empower the family to make their own choices, not to make choices for them. i'm here to point to the alternatives, not to impose them. the second i start managing a labor, i become a mere mirror of what i've been avoiding: another disempowering human being.
i do not want to be such.
i want to inform, support, witness, forgive, love, hold, laugh, cry, too... i want to be an ally on the powerful empowering journey that birth is... i want to trust.
o guan yin, buddha, jesus, allah, and all of our gods and goddesses ~ support me in these times of darkness. give me the strength to stand, with my higher self, and hold in love and kindness all around. give me the strength to speak the truth without fear or anger. hold me in peace and sisterhood.
and then, there are moments ~ long stretch of times where the human spirit is darkened by fear. when providers impose an irrational protocol on a human being ~ trying to make her fit within statistics... when technology becomes intrusive, that's when we know we've gone too far.
at times, when mother and family agree with procedures, and they have been fully informed, i grind my teeth, breathe deeply and let it go: i can support without judgment even in disagreement. but when i feel within my soul how hurt the family feels, how opposed they are to the procedure, that's when my duty becomes the most painful thing in the world: protecting against the damages of technology, and others' [e.g doctor's] fears.
the line is thin, though. as a doula, i am here to empower the family to make their own choices, not to make choices for them. i'm here to point to the alternatives, not to impose them. the second i start managing a labor, i become a mere mirror of what i've been avoiding: another disempowering human being.
i do not want to be such.
i want to inform, support, witness, forgive, love, hold, laugh, cry, too... i want to be an ally on the powerful empowering journey that birth is... i want to trust.
o guan yin, buddha, jesus, allah, and all of our gods and goddesses ~ support me in these times of darkness. give me the strength to stand, with my higher self, and hold in love and kindness all around. give me the strength to speak the truth without fear or anger. hold me in peace and sisterhood.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
best case scenario ~ a story as i remember...
there was not much pain, really, it was simply a bleeding - nothing much. and if she hadn't been six months pregnant, she wouldn't have thought much about it.
but she was.
she could have been scared like the time her sister could have died - the time she was in san christobal on new year and the civil upheaval happened; she had decided to leave the friends that she was traveling with, and a few minutes later, bullets covered the seat where she would have been sitting.
she could have been terrified, but she wasn't, really. as if she knew deep down that she was going to be all right. no, she really wasn't scared, or she hid it quite well, even to herself.
so there it was - a drive to the hospital to confirm [what ever there was to confirm], imagining the worst, and telling herself that she'd be somewhere in the middle of the worst case scenario, and that she would be all right.
if she had been studying midwifery, she could have made several diagnostics - placenta abrutio, premature labor, ... but she wasn't, and the blood that felt like a menstrual period was just that - blood.
the night stay was nothing more than a night stay, waiting for the morning ultrasound, but sleeping regardless in the crowded room with her husband and her small boy. not the best of sleep, surely, but a sleep.
the morning ultrasound, anxiety slightly rising as her bladder filled, and waiting absolutely uncomfortable, for the permission to relief the urine-filled bladder.
and waiting, again, with a playful toddler running around for the results...
time seemed to stretch, endlessly.
- "all is fine. maybe a little blood vessel due to a contraction? it looks like you have a placenta previa - we will need to check on this later in the pregnancy, to make sure that you can have a vaginal birth..."
- "what about the baby?"
- "fine. everything's fine."
everything was fine. really. the worst case scenario was rejected for a much more pleasant one. one where there was really nothing to worry about. besides insurance paperwork, which seemed nothing compared to the worst avoided.
freedom and utter joy filled her heart as she rode back home. home sweet home. once again.
but she was.
she could have been scared like the time her sister could have died - the time she was in san christobal on new year and the civil upheaval happened; she had decided to leave the friends that she was traveling with, and a few minutes later, bullets covered the seat where she would have been sitting.
she could have been terrified, but she wasn't, really. as if she knew deep down that she was going to be all right. no, she really wasn't scared, or she hid it quite well, even to herself.
so there it was - a drive to the hospital to confirm [what ever there was to confirm], imagining the worst, and telling herself that she'd be somewhere in the middle of the worst case scenario, and that she would be all right.
if she had been studying midwifery, she could have made several diagnostics - placenta abrutio, premature labor, ... but she wasn't, and the blood that felt like a menstrual period was just that - blood.
the night stay was nothing more than a night stay, waiting for the morning ultrasound, but sleeping regardless in the crowded room with her husband and her small boy. not the best of sleep, surely, but a sleep.
the morning ultrasound, anxiety slightly rising as her bladder filled, and waiting absolutely uncomfortable, for the permission to relief the urine-filled bladder.
and waiting, again, with a playful toddler running around for the results...
time seemed to stretch, endlessly.
- "all is fine. maybe a little blood vessel due to a contraction? it looks like you have a placenta previa - we will need to check on this later in the pregnancy, to make sure that you can have a vaginal birth..."
- "what about the baby?"
- "fine. everything's fine."
everything was fine. really. the worst case scenario was rejected for a much more pleasant one. one where there was really nothing to worry about. besides insurance paperwork, which seemed nothing compared to the worst avoided.
freedom and utter joy filled her heart as she rode back home. home sweet home. once again.
Monday, May 25, 2009
humanity in becoming
i am only human - with my own impatience. at times, i've cross that boundary - the one i've never wanted to cross. that one i've been working so hard not to cross - that distinction i want to have from the past, to the present, and into the future. guilt raises, yet it is unhelpful.
as a human in flux, in becoming, i long for the wisdom. for the patience. for the understanding and insight.
how much work is involved in becoming this perfect being that i long for. but only forgiveness can bring me there.
apologies, my beloved, for my shortcomings. for being more human that i wish for.
i forgive the universe itself, for being what it is, and maybe in my forgiveness, will i find the empathy for all of the beings around me, and find the patience for their own shortcomings. the patience for wisdom. the patience i need to be me.
as a human in flux, in becoming, i long for the wisdom. for the patience. for the understanding and insight.
how much work is involved in becoming this perfect being that i long for. but only forgiveness can bring me there.
apologies, my beloved, for my shortcomings. for being more human that i wish for.
i forgive the universe itself, for being what it is, and maybe in my forgiveness, will i find the empathy for all of the beings around me, and find the patience for their own shortcomings. the patience for wisdom. the patience i need to be me.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
emptiness of the lonely
Once upon a time, in a land of exile,... the loneliness at times sets in; a time where one's language feels so far away that even the thoughts can't seem to come at all - not in one's maternal tongue, neither in the second language. It's like being in between - on the fence - not totally part of one, or the other. Not taking sides, but never belonging either.
Those times, the winter feels long - like a white plain in a cold sun, the snow reflecting painfully the light; one only wants to take cover, out of sight - a safe refuge.
Those times, one longs for one's own tongue - one's mother's tongue.
Not that living / thinking / speaking in a second language is really the worst medicine. It's more the impossibility of being really oneself that leaves an after taste, when exposed for extended periods of time.
Once, a long time ago, I thought "I want[ed] to be a glass teacup where you can see what you drinks. I want[ed] transparency."
Only in safety can one long for transparency; the impossibility of being genuinely oneself sets in when living in a strange world. When in a vulnerable universe, one can only barricade behind the wide walls of translation, can only pretend, and never ever getting any closer than the distorting glass window.
Those times, the winter feels long - like a white plain in a cold sun, the snow reflecting painfully the light; one only wants to take cover, out of sight - a safe refuge.
Those times, one longs for one's own tongue - one's mother's tongue.
Not that living / thinking / speaking in a second language is really the worst medicine. It's more the impossibility of being really oneself that leaves an after taste, when exposed for extended periods of time.
Once, a long time ago, I thought "I want[ed] to be a glass teacup where you can see what you drinks. I want[ed] transparency."
Only in safety can one long for transparency; the impossibility of being genuinely oneself sets in when living in a strange world. When in a vulnerable universe, one can only barricade behind the wide walls of translation, can only pretend, and never ever getting any closer than the distorting glass window.
Friday, January 16, 2009
in the depth of snow
as the sun shines through the frozen windows - early hours of the morning, when i only wish i could still be sleeping... - the cold reminds me of the reality - the necessity of rising, once again. of feeding the fire that has died down, of preparing for the day - everyone else's day as well, it seems. lunches for some, breakfast for all, potty, diaper, chickens' feedings, and the cycle keeps going. off to school for some, staying home for others - a cycle of wildness that feel nothing like rhythm.
"one day at a time" - although it seems more like "a minute at a time" - or even a second at times. being in the "here now", every day, every moment. when the future seems like the repetition of this constant business, and the light at the end of the tunnel feels like it might be a train...
... then, one knows the deep winter is here - the cabin fever intensity that makes one long to just be "outta here" ... or deep under the covers to forget and sleep. hibernation.
but a babbling child heartily convinces any old dried up heart that it's time to mind to her, to the "here and now" - and the smiles come up from down below, down from under the deep snow, and once again, one cannot resist rejoicing the simplicity of life. the gargle, a step, and snuggle. in a larger rhythm.
"one day at a time" - although it seems more like "a minute at a time" - or even a second at times. being in the "here now", every day, every moment. when the future seems like the repetition of this constant business, and the light at the end of the tunnel feels like it might be a train...
... then, one knows the deep winter is here - the cabin fever intensity that makes one long to just be "outta here" ... or deep under the covers to forget and sleep. hibernation.
but a babbling child heartily convinces any old dried up heart that it's time to mind to her, to the "here and now" - and the smiles come up from down below, down from under the deep snow, and once again, one cannot resist rejoicing the simplicity of life. the gargle, a step, and snuggle. in a larger rhythm.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
the falling leaves and their melancholy
did i read this somewhere - in one of steiner’s lectures, or another anthroposophic reading - or is there something melancholic about autumn? four seasons, four elements, … four temperaments?
winter, with all of the earth’s energy turned inwards, is a season for flegmatism - a season of slowing down, and doing by the fireside.
spring, with its vitality and excitement, is a season where growth is started, of new beginnings, of sanguine energy.
summer brings all the will into doing, the choleric strength to its power - and accomplishing all. the earth’s energy is at its outward peak at st john’s tide, the height of summer and of celebration.
but fall… autumn brings balance to the cycle with the melancholy of the colors change [the foliage as tourist like to call it in Vermont], the knowledge that winter is coming, and the slowing down of rhythm.
maybe my birth at the beginning of the fall has something to do with my emotions - or maybe its a reminescence [memory] of a past life… but autumn always bring my melancholic temperament to its height. the colors are always soooooo beautiful, it is always sooooooo wonderful to be alive and seeing it - and being in it - in de midst of the color.
if i had anything to do with it, i’d like to die in the fall - and be buried in the colorful foliage of our compost pile.
late at night, that feeling of solitude
late at night comes a sense of solitude - when quiet comes about, and all are sleeping, a sense of aloneness. even when all are here, all four of them, little ones asleep in a bed or another.
being in this solitude makes me alive, somehow. longing for solitude? something i had never experienced before.
funny that. that being submerged by otherness, i might learn to be me - alone. and enjoy that.
irony. when i’ve tried to be with others all along, that i can finally enjoy being alone. when i’ve wanted to be warmed by the sun, that i can enjoy coolness of the shadow and darkness of the unknown.
human beings are not single or simple - they are dichotomies of our world. splitting themselves in oppositions, hard to follow.
i must just be one of those too, then…
being, really
as i watch the headlines, i get troubled. the fast-paced evolution we have been witnessing is mind-boggling. we are in a time of change - evolution. that’s good, right? or is it?
speed is about the only relevance found, these days. no time or space for just being [what's that?!?] for be-coming. personal growth? on your own time. family time? on the week-ends, if there is, time.
mind-puzzling. yet we see more and more incidence of mental health issues, body struggles… body and mind are compromised - let alone the soul. [soul? what's that?]
i find that the faster i go, the more i lose myself - lose contact with my higher-self - the essence of who i am. my archetype [in other words]. so i find myself acting too fast, in the fast lane, with another self. “life is a highway, i wanna ride it all night long…” (Tom Cochran)
well, night becomes morning, eventually. and maybe i’m just waking up to a new day with a darn headache. i don’t want to “burn the candle by the two ends” [as we say in french]. i want to be. myself. on my own.
is that a possibility, even?
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