July 23rd, 2010

If I Write This Post, The Terrorists Win

And so there you have it.  I have been terrorized, and threatened, and coerced into writing a post about something that I have neither the time, nor mental energy to take on.  I have been forced to prove a null hypothesis.  I have been threatened into proving that I do NOT do something. I have been terrorized into proving myself innocent of a totally ridiculous accusation.

Reportedly, the women who run the “Peaceful Parenting” facebook page started spreading a rumor that I will teach parents to circumcise their sons.  Why do they think this?  I am told they think this because they once mentioned circumcision to me in a comment on my blog, and I didn’t respond to the comment.  You know, because it’s not like I’m not busy or anything.  I am told that “Dr. Momma” began telling her readers that I am “Pro-male genital mutilation” and I will teach this to anyone who takes my classes.  This was supposedly said in a private “Discussion” on Facebook a few weeks ago – a thread I do not have access to.  After receiving some harassing, cruel messages about this rumor, I chose to clarify my position.  This caused people from her camp to ramp up the lies, and repost them all over mutual friends’ pages in an effort to slander my character.  I have been called names.  I have been lied about.  I have been accused of allowing this all to happen as a “publicity stunt.”  Way to blame the victim, ladies.

Why don’t I want to write this post?  Because I do not see the justice in being forced to spend my time disproving lies.  It has also become painfully obvious to me that no matter how many times I tell people the truth, they are so committed to the lies at any cost, they will not admit they were wrong.  Instead, they will keep changing the accusation until it has all come full circle.  No matter what the truth is, they are not interested.  They cannot let their readers know that they started lies, and tortured me over nothing.

Here is the truth about my position as a soon-to-be-certified childbirth educator and doula:

I formula fed my first son.  I know better now.  I will teach women how to breastfeed.

I had an unnecessary, elective labor induction.  I know better now.  I will teach women about normal birth.

I circumcised.  I know better now. I will teach parents about keeping their sons intact.

But sharing this information isn’t good enough for some people. They want me to publicly post my lesson plans and curriculum.  Sorry folks, but that is intellectual property, and I will not be terrorized into publishing that on the internet.  If you refuse to believe my position, I cannot take responsibility for that.  Reasonable people will be satisfied by my statement on the issues. Unreasonable people want me to give them a document promising that I abuse and torture expecting parents until they agree with my views on circumcision.  I will not do that. I CANNOT do that, as an educator, if I want to stay certified.  I can only give people the information. I cannot make their choice for them, or belittle them for their choice, and attempting to do so would violate codes of conduct.  Professional restrictions aside, I am a more compassionate person than that.  I am not a shitty person.  I help people – not hurt them.

For all the mistakes I made trying to figure out this parenting gig, I am educated now. But to some people, that’s not good enough.  To them, the choices I made in the past are all I will ever be.  That’s fine with me – those people cannot be reasoned with. Anyone who has ever been in the same room with me when circumcision comes up KNOWS how I feel about this.  It is a difficult subject for me because of the choices I’ve made, and it is cruel and unfair to terrorize me into talking about my son’s penises on the internet.

I would like to believe that the intelligent, thoughtful, passionate women who read my writings will be satisfied by this post and end the drama.  Unfortunately, given the abuse I’ve already been subjected to in the last 24 hours, I know that by hitting “Publish”, I will have to spend the rest of the afternoon fighting trolls off my page.

Thank you to all the people who have had my back on this.

Now – I have a garage sale to get ready for – who wants to help me moderate comments the rest of the day?

July 9th, 2010

Changing The World, One Little Moment at a Time

As part of my childbirth educator certification process, I’ve had to attend some hospital classes to fulfill my observation hours.  Per the requirements, I sat in on a Breastfeeding class and a Newborn Care Class.  Luckily my local hospital has a slew of these classes, and the director had no problem letting me crash two of them.  (On a side-note, she couldn’t get her head around the fact that I was certifying as a childbirth educator, and kept insisting that I was a nursing student.  I stopped bothering to correct her because it didn’t matter to me what she called me as long as I was able to take the class for free.)

The first up was the Breastfeeding class, and I figured that since it was in a hospital, I’d be doing a lot of face-palming while I was there.  In my area, hospitals are notoriously misinformed about breastfeeding, and it’s not uncommon to find the L&D nurses, OBs, and pediatricians who give moms terrible breastfeeding advice.  Booby-Traps Galore. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine just delivered and the on-call pediatrician told her that the newborn baby should sleep 6 hours and that she probably needed to formula feed for the first few days.  Thankfully her sister-in-law called me early in the morning and got a name of a good lactation consultant so we could try to undo the damage that Ped had just done.

But to my surprise and delight, the hospital I was taking this class at actually has a pretty strong lactation support program, and employs 5 full time IBCLC’s who are there 7 days a week. They also run a free weekly breastfeeding support group for moms who’ve delivered at that hospital, which is pretty great.  The instructor actually told the moms that there might be a lot of misinformation about breastfeeding floating around on the L&D floor, but they could always have an LC paged who could help them with whatever nursing struggles, and I was happy to hear that.

However, the class was not without its face-palm moments.  For starters, the IBCLC began her introduction to the class by saying “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not like those La Leche League people.”  Face-palm. And then she went on to say “And you should only use the lanolin we give you – don’t use any of that “Angel Mama Baby-whatever-they-call-it… who knows WHAT they put in that stuff!”  Face-palm some more.

I knew it wasn’t my place to say anything in this class, so I politely listened while she made those uninformed comments, and tried really hard to enjoy the good, evidence-based, pro-mother, pro-baby, pro-breastfeeding information she was giving out. There was far more of the latter than the former, so I walked away from the class without too many bruises on my forehead.

Then came the baby-care class.  Different instructor – same hospital.  Here’s where I’ll tell you that between those two instructors, they had 8 children – and not a single vaginal birth.  8 cesareans. Ladies & Gentlemen, this is the world we now live in.

The second instructor had also formula-fed her three children.  She discussed breastfeeding as in “Yeah, that’s the best thing to do, but now I’m going to address you as though you’re all going to formula-feed your babies.”  She also said “Oh, any nurse on the floor can help you breastfeed – you don’t need to call the Lactation Consultant.”  And again, I sat idly by, listening, face-palming, but doing what I came there to do, which was observe.

Then she said something that was so factually inaccurate that I nearly leapt out of my seat.  When discussing babywash, she pointed out to the class that she was sending them all home with a sample of Johnson & Johnson’s baby wash because, as she said, that was the “best stuff on the market.”  Okay, that’s not the part that made me leap - it was what came next.

She then brought up CosmeticsDatabase.com – the place where you can type in the name of just about any shampoo, lotion, or other bodycare product and find out exactly how toxic it is.  So here is where cognitive dissonance is causing me a mild headache.  I’m trying to reconcile how exactly she thinks that Johnson & Johnson is the “best on the market” when she clearly knows about CosmeticsDatabase, which rates it as one of THE MOST TOXIC.  Then, I get my answer.

Next she tells the class “Yes, just type in the name of the product you’re looking for, and it will tell you how toxic it is – 0 is the most toxic, and 10 is the least toxic.”

I swear, I truly think that a little piece of my brain exploded.  Her statement to the class was 100% factually inaccurate.  This is not my opinion, or my interpretation, or my bias — it is a matter of absolutely fact that her statement was false.  On CosmeticsDatabase.com, 0 is the LEAST toxic, and 10 is the MOST toxic.

Try to imagine my whole face flushing, my heart starts racing, knowing that I cannot raise my hand, interrupt her, and correct her.  In any other class, I would have done exactly that.  But in this class it was absolutely not my place.  So my mind swirled for 10 minutes trying to come up with what I could do to set her straight.  Finally, she called a break, and I decided that I was going to take her aside and ask her if I had heard her incorrectly.

So I did just that.  I said “I’m sorry, I think I misheard you – did you say that 0 was the worst rating on CosmeticsDatabase?” to which she replied “Yep, that’s right!”  And I just – in my most welcoming, professional, and polite voice said “No, actually, it’s the opposite.”

Here’s where I’m thinking she’s going to deck me, but she didn’t.  She gasped and recoiled and said “What??  It is?!” and then I launched into everything I knew about that website and their safety ratings, and how Johnson & Johnson had broken my son into hives.  She responded by saying that her director had given all the instructors at the hospital the information about CosmeticsDatabase, so they were all giving out the wrong information, without ever having looked at the site to see for themselves.

Then, very luckily, I also remembered that their sister hospital is one of the few hospitals in the entire country to actually use Earth Mama Angel Baby products INSTEAD of the toxic stuff.  So I brought that up and said “Yes, and guess what!  Your Sister Hospital B uses EMAB, and this is why…”  She was fascinated, and then seemed deeply disturbed that her hospital wasn’t doing the same as Hospital B.  She started recounting tales of her own children breaking out in rashes, and wondered if that Johnson’s stuff may have been the cause.  Then she wrote down the Earth Mama Angel Baby website, and said that she’d talk to the director to see if they could get Hospital B to send over some of their Earth Mama Angel Baby stock.

I thanked her for her time, and walked away feeling like I had made a real difference.  The universe put me in that class to stop the flow of that bad information.  It may be a teeny-tiny, possibly insignificant moment, but I know that it changed what those students heard that day because when the class came back, she corrected herself to them.

I’ve been meaning to tell this story for a few weeks, but then tonight I saw an awesome post by The Marketing Mama detailing how she was able to get a mall to change their restroom sign to something less problematic for nursing mothers.  That post made me realize that so many of us really want to make a difference, and we do hold that power if we only just speak up a little.  It may be a small thing to some people, but changing a symbol on a sign, or correcting the information being given out in a baby care class, does go a long way to shifting attitudes.

Next time you’re wondering whether your voice can make a difference, just remember this:

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” – Margaret Mead.

June 30th, 2010

This is Me, Opening a Childbirth Education Business

Today was one of the most exciting, and terrifying, days of my life.  As I’ve been finishing up my CAPPA childbirth educator certification process, I began searching for a place to teach my classes.  I called all over my area pricing yoga studios, and found that most charge somewhere in the neighborhood of $25 per hour.  If I want that space 3 hours a week, then that quickly adds up to around $300 per month, and nearly $600 per class session.  It didn’t seem very economical.

So then I got the hair-brained idea of renting an office space with another educator or two.  I asked around on the Chicago doula list, and immediately got responses from a few interested parties.

Fast forward a few weeks, and now I’m looking at spaces.  A few more phone calls and emails, and I officially had 3 other ladies who wanted to go into a space with me. Now things were moving forward, but given the amount of space we needed, and what we hoped to pay, it was slim pickin’s in the Chicagoland area.  Last week I found one storefront space that would have worked, but by the time I called the owner back to say I might want to take it, he had already rented it.  Bummer.

So I drove and drove all over the areas I hoped to rent in, called a thousand different places, and finally found one little space that would have worked, but I wasn’t super excited about it. I felt it was really our last option though if we wanted to start our classes in August.  Then I thought (for no particular reason), “I’m going to drive down one more street, just to see…”

And then – I drove by this…

I hopped out of the car and ran to check the window. It looked perfect size – actually slightly bigger than we hoped for. I immediately dialed the number on the For Rent sign, but it rang to the flower shop next door that was closed. I would have to wait until the next day to find out if the space was in our budget.

Other than my labors, that 24 hours of time passed more painfully than anything else I’ve ever suffered through. I wanted this place. I wanted it yesterday. I fell in love with it. In the words of the mouse Chrysanthemum, “It was absolutely perfect.”

When I finally got the owner on the line this morning, I found out that the place was just a bit beyond our price range, which I had expected. I couldn’t let it go without a fight though, so I immediately ran to the space and begged the owner to work with us. She did, and we brought the move-in price to something that I could swallow. By 4:00 pm today, my name was on the lease, and I became the proud renter of the space that will become West Chicagoland’s premiere childbirth & parenting education studio.

Between the four of us, we’ll be teaching comprehensive childbirth education courses, Hypnobirthing, prenatal fitness classes, breastfeeding classes, newborn care classes, sibling classes, and anything else that may come up. I’ve even talked to a photographer who may come in and do affordable maternity shoots once or twice a month for our students. We’re also hoping to work with local green parenting retailers to share business. The possibilities for our space are endless, and I’m feeling great about this decision.

Introducing….
Birthing Babes Childbirth & Parenting Education Studio
728 South Main Street
Lombard, IL
Classes start August 1st! More details coming soon!

June 9th, 2010

This is What a Doula Looks Like

Years ago, I had some pretty wild ideas about what a doula was. I’m ashamed to say that I stereotyped the profession, letting my imagination run wild with the “type” of person I thought would go into that line of work. I never thought of hiring a doula because I believed there was a major cultural and generational gap between myself – the 20-something modern rocker chick – and whatever-it-was I thought a doula was. I’ll be totally honest here: when I pictured a doula, I imagined a patchouli-wearing, middle age, witch-craft-practicing woman who’d bring incense to my birth and expect me to sing “Kumbaya” with her during contractions. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with witchcraft or Kumbaya… but that is SO NOT my bag.

Okay, c’mon – don’t throw rocks at me just yet. I know now that my wild notion was both a figment of my imagination, and terribly judgmental at the same time. However, what I’ve discovered over the years is that I am not the only person with this misconception.  This job seems to be shrouded in mystery for those who aren’t closely acquainted with the birth field.  Heck – some doctors don’t even know what a doula is, or does.

Tonight I got an email from a friend asking me to help convince her friend’s husband that doulas weren’t all (insert unflattering stereotype here) and that they weren’t there to try to start a fights with the doctor during the delivery. Because I’ve received emails like this a half a dozen times before, I decided that instead of just responding to this one email again, I wanted to write one post that people could share with others any time they noticed this come up.

On more than a few occasions I’ve found myself defending doulas, and explaining to my hipster friends that doulas come in all shapes, colors, and personality types. I feel myself pressing upon them that the doulas really do walk among us.

You see, I’ve become a doula evangelist. I started out my journey into motherhood thinking that a doula wasn’t for me, and then I met a punk-rock, roller-derby loving doula who became my saving grace during my VBAC birth.  After that, I realized not only that doulas are real professionals with real skills, but many of them weren’t at all what I had pictured in my mind.  Some were just like me!  We had something in common!  Some are punk-rock moms, and some are Christian sisters. Some look like your sweet grandmother, and some are more like the tattooed aunt that took you to see Def Leppard when you were in 6th grade. Some look like your little sister, and some look like your next-door-neighbor.  There really, truly is a doula for everyone.

And I can hear some of you asking “But what does a doula do that my husband, or best friend, or my own mother can’t do?”

Well, here’s the thing – having supportive friends and family is wonderful, and I hope everyone can get that kind of support.  But doulas do offer something different – doulas are trained labor support specialists. They know all the medical terminology being thrown around by the doctors or midwives, and they understand the physiology of birth. Doulas offer physical, emotional, and informational support – and they are there for you and only you.   But that’s not all – there are real medical benefits as well. According to Doulas of North America (DONA):

Numerous clinical studies have found that a doula’s presence at birth

• tends to result in shorter labors with fewer complications
• reduces negative feelings about one’s childbirth experience
• reduces the need for pitocin (a labor-inducing drug), forceps or vacuum extraction and cesareans
• reduces the mother’s request for pain medication and/or epidurals

Research shows parents who receive support can:

• Feel more secure and cared for
• Are more successful in adapting to new family dynamics
• Have greater success with breastfeeding
• Have greater self-confidence
• Have less postpartum depression

So now you know WHY you should hire a doula, but maybe you think you can’t afford it.  Not true! There’s a doula for every budget.  Check into community-run doula programs or volunteer programs.  Ask local childbirth educators if they know any doulas who are in the process of certifying – they may work for free or at a minimal cost.  Many highly experienced doulas even work on a sliding scale or a payment plan.  In most cases, you just have to ask.  In some states, doulas have billing codes meaning you can submit the cost to your insurance and see if they’ll reimburse you.

Suffice to say, I’m a big fan of doulas, and I think even the most skeptical person can become a believer when they see the reality of doulas, instead of the myths and legends.  For that reason, I launched a site called “This Is What a Doula Looks Like.” Here, real doulas from all over the world can submit photos of themselves along with their contact information.  Perhaps if we can put a face on the modern doula, we can demystify the profession just a bit.

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If you are a doula, I would love for you to submit your info to the site.  I’d also love some help running it so please let me know if you have anything you’d like to add to it.  I’m open to suggestions.

June 5th, 2010

“Gina, You’re Too Tired To Get Pregnant. That Will Be $470 Now Please…”

Last month I decided to switch our family to a naturopathic doctor.  I’ve grown sick of the standard medpros pushing prescriptions for everything I have a question about.  The kids needed their yearly visit anyway, and after a few months of not getting pregnant, I wanted to see someone more holistic for my well-woman care in hopes that she could help me figure out why I’m not getting pregnant as easily as I once did.

In  February I had a horrible experience with an endocrinologist who scolded me multiple times during my visit over the fact that I’m still breastfeeding my younger son (don’t even get me started on that whack job.)  I went to her because I used to have hypothyroidism, and thought that might be interrupting fertility this time.  As it turns out, my thyroid function is fine, but others suggested that only a naturopathic doctor could test for things that mainstream docs never bother with – like vitamin deficiencies, liver function, and such.  Since I know a naturopath wouldn’t scold me for extended breastfeeding, I thought that would be a perfect fit.

The naturopath spent an hour with me asking me ten million questions about my diet and my poop.  I was expecting a physical exam – just as most doctors give during a well-woman visit – but she never touched me other than to check my ears, nose, and throat.

After 60 minutes she announced that I had “adrenaline fatigue” (which I can believe) and that poor digestion was the cause of all the world’s problems.  She put me on a “blood type diet” and gave me a list of all the things I could and couldn’t eat.

Here’s the short list – the things in bold are my absolute favorite foods that I normally eat on a daily, if not weekly, basis:

Essentially, everything on the “Not Allowed” list was the food I live on, and according to this doctor, my body couldn’t handle any of it.  Seriously – BANANAS are no good for me?  Black beans too?  How can this be?  All of this leads me to wonder how in the world people are supposed to live healthy diets if even healthy food – like vegetables, beans, and nuts – are supposedly slowly killing them?  Growing up poor, I know how impossible it is to eat healthy with no money, and I thought I was doing a really good job with my family’s diet lately.  If I’m killing myself with freaking bell peppers, what hope do impoverished families have of ever being healthy given that most poor people don’t even have access to fresh fruit?  This whole game seems so elitist and priviledged, and having come from desperate poverty myself, it all really pisses me off.

Well, after I got my blood work back, it turns out that the only deficiency I had was a Vitamin D deficiency, which I probably could have diagnosed myself given the very obvious mood and fatigue symptoms I cart around.  She also said my white blood cell count is “shockingly” low – so low that an MD would diagnose me with an immune disorder.  According to her, the low white blood cell count indicates that my body is working so hard to digest food that it’s drawing resources from my immune system to get the job done.  Apparently a simple digestive enzyme supplement will fix that right up.

After all of that, I said to her “So doc, do ANY of these lab results explain why we’re not conceiving?” And she said “My opinion is that you’re just too tired to get pregnant.”

A week later I got a bill in the mail for $470.

Gee.  Thanks. After my panic attack, I called the office, then the insurance company, trying to figure out why in the world I’m being charged $470 out of pocket for a simple office visit, especially when I knew that every dollar of the lab work was covered by insurance.  As it turns out, the office visit actually cost a whopping $535, but insurance picked up $65 of that because I had a few bucks left in my “Health Care Account.”  The rest – as bad luck would have it – was NOT covered as a well-woman visit the way I thought it was going to be, and the office never told me they charge half a month’s rent just to walk in the door.

So now what?  I don’t know any more about my situation than I did a month ago, except that my insurance isn’t going to pay for me to try to figure any of it out.  I’d like to try acupuncture for fertility, but insurance won’t cover the $60 weekly visits.  They WILL cover $10,000 IVF treatments though!  Someone explain that backwards nonsense to me.  We’re nowhere near that point, but I’m starting to wonder if I’ll still be blogging about fertility issues this time next year, in which case, IVF is exactly what we’d be looking at.

This is all getting so depressing, I just can’t even stand to think about it any more. And we’ve only been trying since January.  The problem is, it’s now consuming most of my waking thoughts.  I don’t know how others, who’ve been trying for YEARS, can handle this.  The frustration, and the uncertainty, is eating me alive.

My readers seem pretty smart – what do you think of the doctor’s “diagnosis?”

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FYI: I am 15 DPO, no AF yet, but temp dropped Thursday and all tests are negative.  It’s imminent.

UPDATE: AF arrived at 11:30 pm tonight.  I knew she was on her way. I welcome the start of a new cycle.