Blogtember: Moment When Life Took A Turn

I purposely skipped yesterday, as it involved taking a personality quiz.  I'm not into taking quizzes about myself, as I find them generic and rigid, when people are fluid and ever-changing.

So today's post: Describe a distinct moment when your life took a turn.

Without a doubt, it was Vera's birth.  Becoming a mother.  It really does change everything, and in more ways than you could ever fathom.  I am sure that the fact that your life changes once you become a mother is not news; everyone hears this at least several times when you are pregnant.  However, despite hearing this, I didn't really know what it meant until she came into my world.

And I'm not talking about the day to day changes with mothering.  Waking early, having to plan regular meals, having to make appointments and plans around naps.  Sure, those change things from pre-motherhood life.  What I am talking about is what changes within your head that changes you as a person.

For me, it was caring for myself in a way that I never had before.  I actually began thinking, "I can not die for many years to come- Vera needs me like no other".  This might sound crazy, but I really felt that I was important in someone's life enough that it might mess them up irrevocably so I better make sure I stay alive and healthy for another 30+ years.  At least!  I'd never really cared much before.

It also changed what I felt was important in my life.  Having a high level of education? A respected career?  Making good money?  Who cares.... those things drained me and hacked down my self esteem and I realized that continuing down the path I was on before would not allow me to be the best mother I could be.  And I don't miss any part of my previous career.  (Well, the money was good, and I'd plan to make that kind of money again, but it's not important enough now to keep on this new path).  Instead, I decided to go for a dream of using my creativity and craftiness as well as be my own boss.  And I love it!

And lastly, what others might think of me?  The little bit I might have cared about before has completely gone.  And even more importantly, I have come to accept that I am who I am, and if that means being a fat lady with a super short hair cut because damn it, it is so freeing!  So be it!  For proof, you can see this naked pic of me here.  Ya, really.

Blogtember Resumes; Fear

Today's topic: A story about a time you were very afraid.

Hmmmm.....

Well....here is one, where the time I was actually afraid in the pure sense of "afraid" only lasted about five minutes, but none the less, I was afraid.

Shortly after my daughter was born, my husband lost his shit.  Like totally snapped, began doing things that most sane people would be like, "What in the freaking world is going on in his head?".  This went on for well over a year.

There is a lot of crap that contributed to his behavior, but ultimately he was making some very bad choices.  He held a lot of anger towards the circumstances around Vera's birth.  He never planned on having children, although had always told me that he would (as I wanted to have them).  And we had struggled in our marriage at one point on whether we would move forward together because I was pushing for children NOW and he was finding every reason not to.

Ultimately, we moved forward in having children.  Enter Vera.  Her fragile status at birth, the unpredictable course that was ahead of us as parents, and his deep rooted fears of being a father had culminated into chaos for him.  So he began drinking, doing drugs (narcotics, benzodiapines, and bath salts), and generally behaving like a slovenly fool.  Mind you, none of this was out in the open, and what was presented was just this absolute asshole who never went to bed, never interacted with his family, and at times disappeared overnight.  Or passed out in his car and pissed his pants.  Or something along these lines.  Despite this, he did manage to go to work every day.

When Vera was about 4 months old, it became obvious exactly what he was up to.  At the same time I was struggling with severe postpartum depression and anxiety (without knowing it, but my mom certainly knew) and was barely able to take care of Vera and myself on a day to day basis.  My mom could see things were not right, and like the wonderful mom she is (despite her outer hard shell), swooped in and helped me.

Over the course of a few weeks I did end up seeking help with my own postpartum depression and anxiety, and started to be able to see things more clearly.  I knew that things would not  be able to move forward with my husband if he didn't get his act together.  But in the meantime I was doing the best I could for my daughter and I.

One of those things was making sure we got plenty of good night time sleep.  We both have white noise machines, and slept with the doors closed.  This was because my husband would come home (or inside from the garage) at god-awful hours of the night and decide to play with the dog.  It was noisy.

My tricks of keeping out the noise worked really well.  So well, in fact, that one night early that winter I hadn't heard my phone ringing for the previous 30 minutes.  And I didn't hear the banging on my front door for the first 10 minutes.  For the next 5 minutes of being awake and listening to the banging on the front door (oh, did I mention that this was at 2 AM?) and getting myself in quite a tizzy of anger at my husband because I couldn't believe that he would have the gall to bang on our front door at this time.  He knew, after my many threats of "If you dare wake up the baby" speeches, that if he forgot his house key he was shit out of luck and would have to sleep in the car, that he'd be messing with a very angry woman.  And previously, he knew I wasn't kidding and HAD slept in the car on those nights he forgot his keys.

So as I laid in bed listening to the banging getting louder and louder, I think steam started coming out of my ears.  And then I decided I better go down and let him in before Vera did wake.

I got to the top of the stairs and angrily stomped down a few stairs before I noticed out the porthole window in the stairwell that there was a police car in front of my house.  My heart stopped.  I couldn't take a breath.

This is it, I thought.  He's dead.  He either killed himself willingly or accidentally, but he's dead.  With his current behavior, it was the only logical explanation of why the police were at my house in the middle of the night.  I was so afraid of opening that door. 

And as this fear came fully awake within my head, I realized my phone was ringing nonstop as well.  I made it to the bottom of the stairs and cracked open the front door.  I was only in a tank top and my underwear, so I told the cop that I needed my robe.  I'd be right back.  But I let him in.

When I wobbled back down stairs, because at this point I was shaking quite a bit, wondering how was I going to hear how my husband had died, and should I call my mother now or wait until I knew she'd be awake?

I sat down before the cop started talking.  I was taking deep, gulping breaths, bracing myself for the news.

"It's about your husband," the cop said.  He was young.  Maybe 10 years younger than me.  I remember thinking he seemed composed for such a young cop about to deliver terrible news.

I looked up at him, and he continued. "He's been arrested for drinking and driving."

Suddenly all that fear, all that terrible shaking, breath gulping, and terror....gone.

"Oh, why are you here to tell me?"  Because really, I was so pissed now, and did anyone really think I was going to bail him out at this time, with a 5 month old baby in tow?  At two in the morning?

Hell, no!

Turns out that he was arrested with the dog.  They wanted me to get the dog.  I said no.  The dog can go to doggy jail for being his accomplice for all I cared, and I would pick her up when I was good in ready in the morning.  As far as my husband, he could bail himself out and walk home.  And yes, I said this to the cop.

I also told him to make sure they searched the car very well.  I was told that they did, but didn't find anything illegal.

Obviously, my anger well overtook any fear I had, but this was very much the biggest fear I'd felt in recent times.

And, as an aside- a friend of my husband's picked up the dog and dropped her off that night.  One thing I remember clearly that night was watching them pull in the driveway; Freida (my dog) was sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, her eyes quite relieved to see her house.

My husband walked home from the police station. 

I'm All Over Blogtember!

I came across this awesome idea from Sew Fantastic and found the original blog source and wanted in! I was one of those kids in school that beamed at the thought of an essay assignment, which continued through college. Even in grad school our scholarly papers were never a bother; except that I was frequently told to keep my page limits within the guidelines. That is how much I love writing. I could just write, and write, and write. Life seems to get in the way of it, though, so this daily blog challenge is going to truly be a challenge. But a fun one.

The topic for today is: Pass on some useful advice or information you learned and always remembered.

Of course, this one is actually hard.

The first thing that comes to mind is actually something from my former career. When I first entered maternity care nursing, labor and delivery gave me palpitations. It seemed so scary. Life or death scary. So much so that my first L&D job was a total clusterfuck (on everyone's part). My anxiety was awful, and working in one of the roughest places was probably not the best choice. So I had given up on L&D nursing for quite some time until I moved to NH and took a job that required that I learn labor and birth.

I was several years older, and had told my NH employer that I was scared. My previous experiences were not pleasant, to say the least, and they actually cared to make sure I was successful. They gave me to an experienced nurse for precepting, and it was she that wiped away any anxiety left in my brain.

We were reviewing fetal monitoring strips, discussing the fine points of our interpretation, when she said to me, "Jamie, always look for the positive. Don't go searching for the negative right away."
This advice was the best given to me, as almost always, there were positive findings to be had. She certainly hadn't meant to ignore troublesome tracings, or question something, but to change my viewpoint to always go for positive first was a game changer.

So I think that this came to my mind because it is actually something I remind myself to do everyday. It's not easy to follow. I think my brain is hard wired to immediately go to the negative. I am typically a glass half empty person, or at the very least a person waiting for someone to empty the glass!
Several years back a friend and I began to test the theory of The Secret. I am embarrassed to say that I watched the movie and bought the book, but it actually was an interesting experiment. My brother had been using The Law of Attraction for years, and it did appear to work for him. He started a very successful business, began dating his wife, and is comfortable financially. So, what the hell....my friend and I began using positive language during conversation, and I even tried the tricks they talk about in The Secret. And they worked. Mind you, this was a very heavy time in my life: I was looking for a midwifery job, trying to pay off debt, attempting to lose a significant amount of weight, and dealing with the day to day with my mother's extremely rare cancer diagnosis- a diagnosis in which even the world renowned specialists at Dana Farber didn't quite know how to treat.
I even started training my brain to think and look for the positive. I read affirmations to myself every day. As I fell asleep at night, I would also say them to myself. I never let myself get too deep into negative thoughts.

What happened with surrounding myself in positive thoughts?
 
Well, I lost 75 pounds. My mom was "cured". (She is almost 5 years cancer free!). I ended up being contacted for a midwifery job that was the perfect fit. I was able to pay off all of the debt, except for my student loan.
 
And then life went on....as I mentioned before my brain is hard wired for negativity. I wasn't keeping up with the positive. I wasn't looking for it the way I was. And things changed. Not necessarily for the better at the time, although, having brought myself back to the positive mindset things are better. But it's work.
 
I guess this was easier than I thought for my first Blogtember post. Bottom line: Always look for the positive.

Really? A Vagina Steam?

This is freaking ridiculous!

The other day on twitter I came across this tweet about getting your vagina a steam bath.  Apparently it's basically sitting on a chair with a hole on it, in which a steaming pipe of some such flushes your vagina with steam infused with herbs.

I don't know whether I should laugh or be outraged.  I can tell you in my 37 years there have definitely been times I've had thoughts like, "Boy, I could really go for a spa treatment like a massage or a pedicure".  But NEVER have I thought my vagina needed a trip to the spa.  If anything, I've had thoughts of wishing it could be left alone (many years of time intercourse, many pelvic procedures to work up infertility, pregnancy and birth....you get my idea here)!

Ladies: you don't need to steam your vagina.  There is no evidence that proves this "works" for the things it claims to do.  All the steam is doing is warming your backside and vulva, and well, it's really ridiculous.  If you like that feeling, fine, but don't expect to end up having a perfect vagina out of this.

The thing about vaginas is that they are really quite magical.  You laugh, but I can tell you that they are!  They are self cleaning, they can stretch to accommodate newborns of varying sizes, and can heal back up like nothing happened!  So just leave them alone.

A Giveaway!

My company, Bourgeois Baby, is featured on the blog Stand and Deliver.  I've been following Rixa for years (since before her oldest was born) on her blog as I was pre-midwifery school at the time and loved her take on modern maternity care. 

So it seemed natural to me to contact her and offer up my products for review, and even better, a giveaway!

Visit Rixa's blog to enter.  The giveaway ends September 1st, 2013.

Conflict

I was listening to a TED Talk today on NPR that caught my attention.  The particular segment was focused on Margaret Heffernan's talk on how conflict is good for change.  It made me think of my years in health care as both a registered nurse and more recently a nurse midwife, and the seemingly constant conflict of paradigms within maternity care.  My personal experience within that conflict was not pleasant, and I am still deeply affected by it.  But on a whole, the talk was a bit uplifting. 

Much of the talk focused on an example that occurred in health care.  During the 1950s, a research physician in England interested in epidemiology named Dr. Alice Stewart wanted to look at the cause(s) of childhood cancer.  Her approach was thorough, and in some ways revolutionary.  She asked the children's mothers.  Other researchers questioned her methods (like, "Why ask them? What do they know?").  But she did find a direct correlation: prenatal x-rays could statistically be linked to childhood cancers (leukemia specifically, I think).

Another interesting approach she took was hiring a statistician to make sure her research numbers were correct; that her findings and their interpretation was correct.  The man she hired was at some point quoted in saying it was his job to find Dr. Stewart wrong.  What I find especially interesting is that Dr. Stewart used someone not directly related to her field of research.  Very much not "peer review".  And with these particular data he couldn't find her wrong.

So Dr. Stewart went on to publish her findings in well respected medical journals about prenatal x-ray exposure and its dangers.  Her work seemed to be an obvious call to stop the routine practice of obstetrical x-rays due to the potential dangers to the fetus.

And what happened?  Her research was so conflicting with current thought that her work was scoffed.  Her methods were criticized.  And obstetrical x-rays were continued.  In fact, my mom had an obstetrical x-ray when she was pregnant with me.  That was in 1976!   My mom said that she questioned it's use, mostly because the reason she was given for needing the procedure was to make sure her hips were big enough for childbirth, and she argued that her hips were plenty big.  But she did it anyway, because the doctor said it was needed and pushed right back.

Obstetrical x-rays were abandoned soon after in the 1970s as Dr. Stewart continued her work on her original findings and finally got the "establishment" to listen.  But it took a lot of conflict.

What I drew a line to in  my own head is that much of what is routinely done in obstetrics today does have some research that conflicts with current practice.  I'm hoping in this age of evidenced based medicine/practice is that the conflicts won't need to be as long as the x-ray example.  One such thing that is studied quite a bit today is possible causes of autism, with a recent study that made the headlines that use of oxytocin during labor either for reasons of augmentation or induction of labor increases the chances of the child being diagnosed autistic.

With the rampant use of oxytocin in modern obstetrics, do you think that it will be easy to get use of drug down to much lower proportions?  I sure hope so, but I'm thinking this may be one of those cases that will take a lot of conflict.  And this is just one example.

Nap Genius

Vera had been absolutely terrible about taking naps recently despite being exhausted.  And when she wouldn't nap, I suddenly had a terror on my hands by 4PM that was full on whining, the word NO, hitting, throwing herself on the floor....you know what I mean.

Perhaps she is coming to the end of napping?  But...no....no....noooo!!! That can't be! She's too young to give up naps!  She is clearly tired!!!  And, I need that time for my sanity and work.

Talking to Kirsten about this, whose been there and done that not that long ago, suggested putting Vera to bed for her nap earlier.  Totally against what my instinct was, which included putting her to bed later in hopes being more tired would do the trick. 

So, I can announce that Kirsten is definitely a toddler nap genius.  Putting Vera to bed at least 30 minutes early has been the answer!  I put her in her "nap suit", put her in her crib, offer to tuck her in.  She turns to me and has said, "Bye, Mama!"  Smiling.  Happily.  No fighting or hitting me.  I once peaked at the door to see what she does when she thinks I have left, and she laid right down and covered herself over with her blanket.

Wow.  I have had so much time today to get work done, that I was able to take a break and write this post.  So, Kirsten, you are a genius!