<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:04:09.232-08:00</updated><category term='stillbirth'/><category term='scar'/><category term='cancer'/><category term='artwork'/><category term='c-section'/><category term='ACOG'/><category term='vbac'/><category term='cesarean'/><category term='CAM'/><category term='death'/><category term='hyperemesis'/><category term='waterbirth'/><category term='my birth story'/><category term='prematurity'/><category term='song'/><category term='birth'/><category term='labor'/><category term='abortion'/><category term='IUFD'/><category term='natural birth'/><category term='advocacy'/><category term='cesarean awareness'/><category term='analogy'/><category term='my babies'/><category term='birthdays'/><category term='photo'/><category term='due dates'/><category term='Cesarean-Awareness-Month'/><category term='breastfeeding'/><category term='ICAN'/><category term='homebirth'/><category term='miscarriage'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='video'/><category term='Christianity'/><category term='International-Cesarean-Awarenes'/><category term='BFAC'/><category term='hospital birth'/><category term='daughter'/><category term='the story of my birth'/><category term='my birthday'/><category term='you should be grateful'/><category term='CPD'/><category term='pregnancy'/><category term='informed consent'/><title type='text'>Refuse to be a Womb Pod</title><subtitle type='html'>"But now and then, you can make people care, make people notice that something ain't quite right, and nudge them gently, with the words, to get off their ass and fix it." ~Rick Bragg</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>152</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2591573827280338798</id><published>2011-09-29T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T19:39:24.643-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='labor'/><title type='text'>Birth photos, 2 years delyaed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I JUST got the photos my sister took with her cell phone. Remember, I thought I'd be going home. I had no idea I was 7cm, so I didn't bring my camera! I wanted to share with you my two favorite photos. Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Smk1r9KaWXk/ToUrvGmOScI/AAAAAAAAAhE/3BruzpzcwL0/s1600/Annabirth24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 176px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 144px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657976595085674946" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Smk1r9KaWXk/ToUrvGmOScI/AAAAAAAAAhE/3BruzpzcwL0/s320/Annabirth24.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IDnuDqXS4v8/ToUrmIi0E8I/AAAAAAAAAg8/CbPQOgwpHvU/s1600/Annabirth7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 176px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 144px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657976440989422530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IDnuDqXS4v8/ToUrmIi0E8I/AAAAAAAAAg8/CbPQOgwpHvU/s320/Annabirth7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2591573827280338798?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2591573827280338798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/09/birth-photos-2-years-delyaed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2591573827280338798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2591573827280338798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/09/birth-photos-2-years-delyaed.html' title='Birth photos, 2 years delyaed'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Smk1r9KaWXk/ToUrvGmOScI/AAAAAAAAAhE/3BruzpzcwL0/s72-c/Annabirth24.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4144000921259790342</id><published>2011-07-01T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T20:17:32.840-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vbac'/><title type='text'>Why can't I just stay here?</title><content type='html'>Last night as I lay in bed I was seized by a fit of anger and panic. If I'm pregnant, where will I give birth? Last pregnancy I moved back down to Pensacola for 4 months, gave birth with my midwife, and traveled back to Georgia when Anna was 6 weeks old. It was &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; hard! I hated being away from my husband and caring for two children, alone, while suffering from HG and just generally being pregnant was stressful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, however, Sarah will be in school. I can't just pull her out of school for a month. I could go down with the younger two and leave Sarah up here with my husband, but that would mean he wouldn't be there for the birth. Yes, I could call him when I went into labor and he could attempt to make it down, but it's a 4 hour drive if he left immediately upon receiving my call, and last time I didn't even know I was in labor until I was 7cm, and Anna was born an hour later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see &lt;em&gt;why, why, why&lt;/em&gt; I can't just stay here in Georgia, see a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CNM&lt;/span&gt;, go to the hospital to give birth and just be left alone. Yes, I'm aware of "Dr. Wonderful" in Atlanta, but that's still an hour and a half drive (&lt;em&gt;if&lt;/em&gt; it's not rush hour) that I'd have to make each month, and &lt;em&gt;in labor.&lt;/em&gt; I'll remind you again, last time I didn't know I was in labor until an hour before baby was born! If I could write the headline to that news story it would read&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Woman Gives Birth on Side of Road When Local Doctors Refuse &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My first line of defense will be to make an appointment with the local &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CNM&lt;/span&gt; group and beg them (I'm not above it) to attend a birth with me. My cesarean will have been over 7 years prior, with two uncomplicated &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt; in the meantime. I'll ask them to meet with the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OBs&lt;/span&gt; in the group, comb over my records, speak with my previous care providers (the ones still living), &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt;. They might change their minds. Too bad "letters of recommendation" don't help in these sorts of situations. I know my midwife would write a glowing letter for me! My concern here though is that even if they capitulate, they'll place a heavy burden of demands on my pregnancy and labor, demands I won't likely meet. My babies come 1-2 weeks after their due dates, I lose an extreme amount of weight during pregnancy, I always measure small and either have tiny babies or 8lb babies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So I don't know what I'm going to do. Even if I decided to birth with Dr. Wonderful in Atlanta, I'd &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; to have a care provider here too because I'd need to be seen frequently to keep up with the HG. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This&lt;/em&gt; is what women fail to think of when signing up for that very first cesarean. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4144000921259790342?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4144000921259790342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/07/why-cant-i-just-stay-here.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4144000921259790342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4144000921259790342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/07/why-cant-i-just-stay-here.html' title='Why can&apos;t I just stay here?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-1539322771326608840</id><published>2011-06-27T06:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T06:37:55.871-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Just sayin'...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZO4XbsxTmEE/TgiHdP15-VI/AAAAAAAAAeE/FgCuNBhVcWU/s1600/day%2B40.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 116px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622893071310649682" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZO4XbsxTmEE/TgiHdP15-VI/AAAAAAAAAeE/FgCuNBhVcWU/s320/day%2B40.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since my last period. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-1539322771326608840?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/1539322771326608840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/06/just-sayin.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1539322771326608840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1539322771326608840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/06/just-sayin.html' title='Just sayin&apos;...'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZO4XbsxTmEE/TgiHdP15-VI/AAAAAAAAAeE/FgCuNBhVcWU/s72-c/day%2B40.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-1139673095372382214</id><published>2011-04-22T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T07:23:54.544-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my birthday'/><title type='text'>My 30th Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dJ-mVS77Rv0/TILeC7A3ALI/AAAAAAAAAQo/C8J3vxkmsjo/s1600/look-whos-30-birthday-badge-large.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dJ-mVS77Rv0/TILeC7A3ALI/AAAAAAAAAQo/C8J3vxkmsjo/s1600/look-whos-30-birthday-badge-large.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday to me, right? I'm not much in a celebrating mood. Having a miscarriage the week of your birthday? Not fun. My last miscarriage (2007) was the week of Mother's Day. Someone is seriously messing with me. I conceived this baby on April Fool's Day and lost him just a few weeks later. His due date would have been Christmas Eve, so I'm sure I'll think about him again then and feel sad all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, I believe my miscarriage is now "complete". I'm still getting negative tests and the bleeding has stopped. No signs of infection and no more pain. At least I was able to miscarry in relative peace with no medical intervention required. I'm thankful for the three beautiful children the Lord has blessed me with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;earthside&lt;/span&gt;, and now I have TWO children who will only ever know Heaven as their home. As parents, don't we want the best for our children? You can't get better than that! The bible says that we will be known in Heaven as we were known on Earth, so I "name" the babies I lose. My first was Mac and this one is Jacob. I've always thought of my miscarried babies at boys because I read somewhere that male embryos/fetuses were more likely to be miscarried than females. Hopefully there aren't two sweet girls running around Heaven being called Mac and Jacob! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-1139673095372382214?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/1139673095372382214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-30th-birthday.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1139673095372382214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1139673095372382214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-30th-birthday.html' title='My 30th Birthday'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dJ-mVS77Rv0/TILeC7A3ALI/AAAAAAAAAQo/C8J3vxkmsjo/s72-c/look-whos-30-birthday-badge-large.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4110015242492013716</id><published>2011-04-19T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T14:27:03.394-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miscarriage'/><title type='text'>Miscarriage?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos2.fotosearch.com/bthumb/UNC/UNC183/u11975204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://photos2.fotosearch.com/bthumb/UNC/UNC183/u11975204.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think I'm having a miscarriage. I got what I thought was my period yesterday, but I've been curled up in pain most of the time since then. Very heavy, lots of "tissue". Similar to the time I had a confirmed miscarriage. But I never got a positive test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Miscarriages are &lt;em&gt;awful&lt;/em&gt;. Aside from the very real emotional effects, the physical experience is painful and lonely. It's like a very long, sadly &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-supported labor that doesn't have a happy ending. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4110015242492013716?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4110015242492013716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/miscarriage.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4110015242492013716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4110015242492013716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/miscarriage.html' title='Miscarriage?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2534849621181538642</id><published>2011-04-17T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T11:02:16.436-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Don't Think I Am</title><content type='html'>I tested first thing this morning, 13-15 days after I believe I ovulated. It was negative. Still no period. So more waiting, I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2534849621181538642?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2534849621181538642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/dont-think-i-am.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2534849621181538642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2534849621181538642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/dont-think-i-am.html' title='Don&apos;t Think I Am'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7921418100897028835</id><published>2011-04-15T13:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T14:11:07.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='due dates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Nothing Yet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.justcalendar.org/calendar/December-2011-Calendar-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 327px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.justcalendar.org/calendar/December-2011-Calendar-3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I still don't know anything. Another negative test today, day 46. I'm out of tests, so I won't be testing again until Sunday morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something I've been thinking about in regards to dating this (might be) pregnancy is what to tell a care provider. Here's what I mean: my LMP is March 1st, but I know that if I got pregnant, it was between April 1-3. Here are the "due dates" for each:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;LMP March 1st: EDD December 8, 2011 (with a cycle length of approx 30 days) Probable conception date April 2: EDD December 24, 2011 &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So you see my situation? I don't think I could&lt;em&gt; possibly&lt;/em&gt; convince a care provider to put down the December 24 EDD when my LMP was March 1st. It would be bad enough by itself, but add that to the fact that providers want VBAC mothers to give birth on or before their due dates, and also my history of giving birth 1-2 weeks after my EDD, and there's a &lt;em&gt;big&lt;/em&gt; problem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Say, for example, my baby would have come 1 week after the EDD of December 24. That would be December 31st. The care provider wants me to have my baby by the December 8 EDD, so if I consented (no!) to a RCS (no induction for VBAC moms), that would make my baby 3 weeks, 2 days early. Not good. And I don't suppose any care provider would be comfortable with me going (in their eyes) 3 weeks, 2 days past my "due date" either, would they? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So should I make up an LMP that fits better with when I know baby was conceived? I don't want an early vaginal ultrasound just for dating purposes. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;know the small window in which baby was conceived, and I know that December 8th would be nowhere &lt;em&gt;near&lt;/em&gt; when to expect him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;sigh...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7921418100897028835?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7921418100897028835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/nothing-yet.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7921418100897028835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7921418100897028835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/nothing-yet.html' title='Nothing Yet'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2579782305202786100</id><published>2011-04-14T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T06:45:09.213-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hyperemesis'/><title type='text'>Cycle Day 45</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/6e/US_45.svg/600px-US_45.svg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 190px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/6e/US_45.svg/600px-US_45.svg.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In my life, cycle day 45 has always held very special significance. My cycles are not always regular, but the one thing I can always count on is that I never have a cycle that lasts more than 45 days. &lt;em&gt;Today is cycle day 45.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So guess what I'm doing today? Buying pregnancy tests! Again. You know how it is when you're wondering if you're pregnant, always wondering if every twinge is "something". So it's hard for me to say if I "feel" pregnant yet. So I guess I'm going to keep testing until I get a positive or a period! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other related news:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was eating my grits this morning I looked down at the bowl and wondered if it would be my last bowl of grits for 9 months. Wondered when food would morph from friend to foe. When my body would begin the process of purging food. Of balking at water. When that black box of HG would overcome me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2579782305202786100?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2579782305202786100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/cycle-day-45.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2579782305202786100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2579782305202786100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/cycle-day-45.html' title='Cycle Day 45'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6119078052283669426</id><published>2011-04-13T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T12:11:05.591-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Goodbye, 20s!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://rlv.zcache.com/i_love_20s_products_designs_postcard-p239407031834509540trdg_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 239px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://rlv.zcache.com/i_love_20s_products_designs_postcard-p239407031834509540trdg_400.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have to say, this isn't exactly the way I envisioned spending the last days of my 20s. My birthday is a week from Friday (Earth Day) and my thoughts have been dominated with questions about my pregnancy status and how that would change our family. My greatest hope is that I would be pregnant with a boy, not because I value boys over girls, but because my HG was so much easier to handle when I was pregnant with a boy! I do adore little boys though. My son is the biggest sweetheart you'll ever meet. He asked me the other day (with &lt;em&gt;tears&lt;/em&gt; in his eyes) why God hadn't yet given him a baby brother. So, Caleb and I want another boy baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few things to report:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;In the last week I've had two mornings where my stomach felt very sour until I'd eaten.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;This morning I woke two hours before I normally do (I started waking up really early, very early on in my previous three pregnancies)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Today is day 44 of a cycle that has never, ever gone beyond 45 days.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6119078052283669426?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6119078052283669426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/goodbye-20s.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6119078052283669426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6119078052283669426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/goodbye-20s.html' title='Goodbye, 20s!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5916766209816982248</id><published>2011-04-11T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T09:02:14.377-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Still Nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://consultingbyrpm.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/Sorry-Board-Game.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 365px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://consultingbyrpm.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/Sorry-Board-Game.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; By nothing I mean, literally, &lt;em&gt;nothing&lt;/em&gt;. No period, a second (what I'm going to call) negative pregnancy test this morning. My first three cycles since they resumed were 28 days, 31 days and 30 days long. Today is day 43 of my fourth postpartum cycle. Sorry, but that's all I have to report today! Believe me, I'm even more frustrated than any of you may be!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5916766209816982248?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5916766209816982248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/still-nothing.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5916766209816982248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5916766209816982248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/still-nothing.html' title='Still Nothing'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-581612502920395716</id><published>2011-04-07T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T07:15:26.405-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Still No Cause for Alarm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lnVvxhhNUr0/TZ3E07n8DGI/AAAAAAAAAd4/9gdc1Mtl6SA/s1600/GEDC1740.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592842725901470818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lnVvxhhNUr0/TZ3E07n8DGI/AAAAAAAAAd4/9gdc1Mtl6SA/s320/GEDC1740.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took a test yesterday. You can very clearly see the dark blue "control" line, but what you may or may not be able to see is the very faint blue line to the right. Before we all get our panties in a wad though, I have to confess that I didn't look at the test until well after 10 minutes. I got busy. I do have three children you know! The test instructions state (in bold letters) that you absolutely &lt;em&gt;should not&lt;/em&gt; read the test results after 10 minutes. It doesn't say &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt;, though. Is it because the blue line might fade, leaving you to think you're not pregnant when you actually are? Or, is it because when the test strip dries, it reveals the faint blue line, leaving you to think you're pregnant when you're &lt;em&gt;not?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-581612502920395716?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/581612502920395716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/still-no-cause-for-alarm.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/581612502920395716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/581612502920395716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/still-no-cause-for-alarm.html' title='Still No Cause for Alarm'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lnVvxhhNUr0/TZ3E07n8DGI/AAAAAAAAAd4/9gdc1Mtl6SA/s72-c/GEDC1740.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8647194204545864946</id><published>2011-04-06T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T08:44:23.954-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><title type='text'>No Cause for Alarm, But...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.bakingshop.com/bc/img/CAND-Q.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 205px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.bakingshop.com/bc/img/CAND-Q.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today is day 37 of a normally 28-35 day cycle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's still a little early to be jumping to pink or blue conclusions though. We've been out of town for the last two weeks, Anna has drastically decreased her number of nighttime nursings, and it's only my 3rd cycle since before I became pregnant in September 2008. Many factors at play right now. I'm not even convinced it's time to test, yet. I assure you though, as soon as I know one line or two, you'll know as well!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8647194204545864946?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8647194204545864946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/no-cause-for-alarm-but.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8647194204545864946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8647194204545864946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/04/no-cause-for-alarm-but.html' title='No Cause for Alarm, But...'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6825189650265051052</id><published>2011-03-16T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T20:29:45.674-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='due dates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advocacy'/><title type='text'>Planting Seeds?</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 176px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.umext.maine.edu/piscataquis/_private/gardening/vol1iss10/2004/vol2iss5/germin5.gif" /&gt;As I was returning home tonight from a late-night trip to the grocery store I met our across-the-breezeway neighbor. He saw that I had Miss Anna with me and told me how precious she is (she is!) and asked how old she was (21 months next week, can you believe it?). He mentioned that his wife is due with their first child, a girl, in mid to late June. Ah! A due date conversation. Time to plant some "please don't induce on your due date" seeds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Oh that's wonderful! Anna was born a week after her due date, on June 28&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. I was certain she was going to be born in July." Turns out I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; have said anything more appropriate because my neighbor exclaimed, "That's our problem! My wife wants to buy the baby a birth stone necklace. She wants to buy the June birth stone." I told him I understood the pickle they were in because, "you know babies, especially first babies, tend to come much later than their due dates." He looked as if no one had ever mentioned the possibility that a baby wouldn't come on its due date and said, "Well I guess that makes sense. Maybe we should go ahead and buy the July necklace instead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if I can just keep the parents-to-be away from our anti-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; OB neighbor, who lives next to me and caddy-corner from them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6825189650265051052?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6825189650265051052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/03/planting-seeds.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6825189650265051052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6825189650265051052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/03/planting-seeds.html' title='Planting Seeds?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7598428801519429756</id><published>2011-03-14T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T08:20:17.283-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hyperemesis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>Who Am I to Complain?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aatzNgxlztQ/S7ogWHtGAjI/AAAAAAAAADM/9yaO55grBt8/s1600/370px-Dark_blue_ribbon_svg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 194px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 297px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aatzNgxlztQ/S7ogWHtGAjI/AAAAAAAAADM/9yaO55grBt8/s1600/370px-Dark_blue_ribbon_svg.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'd forgotten just how extremely tired [it] makes me. It's the weirdest thing having to sit down and rest after doing something simple like sewing Eli a pair of pants or getting the kids a snack."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's a quote from &lt;a href="http://imsorryforcursing.blogspot.com/"&gt;my friend Sheri's blog&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Sheri is going through this for the second time in two years. &lt;/strong&gt;She has been preparing for this for a few months; getting her house in order, the fridge stocked with foods the kids can get/prepare themselves, summer clothes made, fall curriculum gathered and prepared, freezer foods, recipes for easy foods she or her husband can make. She's been mentally preparing for the physical rigors it brings with it. Coming to terms with the army of needles and tubes preparing to invade her body. She's begun the battle...&lt;em&gt;again.&lt;/em&gt; Pretty typical HG right? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Except Sheri doesn't have HG. She has cancer.&lt;/strong&gt; Again. She's young and has a husband and two small children and she's already fought and beaten cancer once and &lt;em&gt;it's just not fair! &lt;/em&gt;It's so hard reading her blog and her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; updates and knowing that all I can to is offer paltry "support" in the form of a meal and some kind words. I can't &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; make it any easier or take it away. I can't even join her in the fight. I'm just a witness, and I think...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is what it's like for my loved ones when I have HG. They must feel so helpless. They must feel &lt;em&gt;so angry&lt;/em&gt;. Because unlike Sheri, who didn't &lt;em&gt;choose &lt;/em&gt;cancer, I have chosen to continue being open to more children. I have chosen to open myself to the risk of HG over and over again. &lt;strong&gt;So who am I to complain?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; Her&lt;/em&gt; sickness is caused by a poison that's not only killing her cancer but also damaging (for a time) her body. Mine is caused by a beautiful new life growing inside of me. She has no guarantee or assurance she'll live through cancer. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hyperemesis&lt;/span&gt; is probably not going to kill me, though it gets an A++ for effort. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm just feeling very conflicted this morning. I am so very thankful that Sheri has chosen to "blog her cancer". It gives me hope. Is that selfish? I don't know, but it encourages me more than you can imagine. If she can fight cancer, I can fight HG. Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cdc.gov/Features/ColorectalAwareness/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;rch is National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7598428801519429756?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7598428801519429756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/03/who-am-i-to-complain.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7598428801519429756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7598428801519429756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/03/who-am-i-to-complain.html' title='Who Am I to Complain?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aatzNgxlztQ/S7ogWHtGAjI/AAAAAAAAADM/9yaO55grBt8/s72-c/370px-Dark_blue_ribbon_svg.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7265610772704677215</id><published>2011-03-13T04:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T04:00:12.311-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my babies'/><title type='text'>My Babies: 6, 4 and 20 months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YUwIhpKbXc0/TXwAL3sHirI/AAAAAAAAAdw/rh2VpS7-51Y/s1600/GEDC1543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583337841960127154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YUwIhpKbXc0/TXwAL3sHirI/AAAAAAAAAdw/rh2VpS7-51Y/s320/GEDC1543.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caleb, age 4** Anna, age 20 months** Sarah, age 6&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7265610772704677215?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7265610772704677215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-babies-6-4-and-20-months.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7265610772704677215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7265610772704677215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-babies-6-4-and-20-months.html' title='My Babies: 6, 4 and 20 months'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YUwIhpKbXc0/TXwAL3sHirI/AAAAAAAAAdw/rh2VpS7-51Y/s72-c/GEDC1543.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6003522846576640132</id><published>2011-03-12T07:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T07:33:03.001-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homebirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vbac'/><title type='text'>Won't OB My Neighbor?</title><content type='html'>You'll never guess what I recently learned about my next door (apartment) neighbor. I mean, I actually share a &lt;em&gt;wall&lt;/em&gt; with this man! He's an obstetrician! Can you believe it? Of all the people with whom I could share a wall, and it's an OB. I'm very amused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband made the discovery. He stopped him in the breezeway one evening when they were both returning from work. When the subject came up, my husband took the opportunity to ask him if he attended &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt;. Of course he doesn't. The OB was shocked to learn I'd had two &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt;. He said he didn't know anyone who "did" &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt; anymore. He's right, too. No one in this area attends &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt;. You drive to Atlanta if you have the motivation, or submit to surgery if you don't. I'm so thankful our hometown and families and several &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; supportive providers are only a 4 hour drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it be something though, if I was planning to make the trek to Atlanta but discovered it was too late and I was going to have to give birth at home. Could I, should I, &lt;em&gt;would I&lt;/em&gt; walk next door and ask the OB to attend? That thought makes me smile. Not only would he have a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; on his resume, but a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt; to boot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6003522846576640132?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6003522846576640132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/03/wont-ob-my-neighbor.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6003522846576640132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6003522846576640132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2011/03/wont-ob-my-neighbor.html' title='Won&apos;t OB My Neighbor?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6875646874536628620</id><published>2010-12-18T06:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding a "super" supporter</title><content type='html'>As I was thinking over my pregnancy plans, HG protocol, etc this morning I realized that my task in finding a care provider is two-fold. I must find a provider who is both HG supportive AND vbac supportive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this the impossible dream? I fear it might be. A supportive HG provider must be very proactive and intervention-minded, whereas a truly supportive vbac provider must &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; be. How can the two exist in the same person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm becoming more and more convinced that my best option is to find the most HG supportive provider I can, even if that means I must "sign up" for a cesarean at my first appointment, and then birthing at home unassisted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6875646874536628620?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6875646874536628620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/12/finding-supporter.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6875646874536628620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6875646874536628620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/12/finding-supporter.html' title='Finding a &amp;quot;super&amp;quot; supporter'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3869359689726291509</id><published>2010-12-14T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Plans, Plans, Plans</title><content type='html'>So many plans to be made! Our lives are so much different, so-full!-now. My first experience with HG was traumatic, but I only had to find a way to care for &lt;em&gt;myself&lt;/em&gt;. My second experience with HG was more challenging because I had a very young &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;toddler&lt;/span&gt; to care for. Still, there was just one child (who still napped) and family to help. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hyperemesis&lt;/span&gt; part three was the hardest thing I've ever done, to date. I had two active, non-napping children to care for and we'd moved away from family. The kids and I had to move back home and my mother-in-law practically raised them for five months. I was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;hospitalized&lt;/span&gt; for a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time we're in for a &lt;em&gt;ride&lt;/em&gt;! This next pregnancy will test our faith, above all, but also our commitment to each other and our endurance. A new pregnancy will find us with a school-aged daughter, a preschool son and a toddler daughter. Our oldest daughter began homeschooling this year the beginning of a new pregnancy will find us at the beginning of 1st grade and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-K. My toddler shows no sighs of weaning and also co-sleeps. How will I manage nursing one child, homeschooling two children all while living on the bathroom floor for 9 months? We've decided not to separate this time, so we'll be away from any family who &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;might've&lt;/span&gt; helped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This season we're entering will be one that lives in infamy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you think we're crazy. I know. But so is the "Iron Man" who pushes his body to its tipping point, no? And Iron Man &lt;em&gt;finishes where he began&lt;/em&gt;. Our family will finish with a brand new immortal soul in the world. We'll end with ten hands helping two more emerge. We will be more, not less. Stronger, not weaker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike previous pregnancies, I hope to have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; access throughout. I'm looking forward to sharing this Phoenix-journey with you and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;chronicling&lt;/span&gt; how I make it through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kyrie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;eleison&lt;/span&gt; down the road that I must travel.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3869359689726291509?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3869359689726291509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/12/plans-plans-plans.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3869359689726291509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3869359689726291509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/12/plans-plans-plans.html' title='Plans, Plans, Plans'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8000080560493633213</id><published>2010-10-12T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TLSNCNeimnI/AAAAAAAAAbo/G1fQ91c27dc/s1600/toilet.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527197711807453810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TLSNCNeimnI/AAAAAAAAAbo/G1fQ91c27dc/s320/toilet.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Is it a stomach illness or. . . ?  Not sure. Deep breaths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8000080560493633213?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8000080560493633213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/10/is-it.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8000080560493633213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8000080560493633213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/10/is-it.html' title='Is it...?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TLSNCNeimnI/AAAAAAAAAbo/G1fQ91c27dc/s72-c/toilet.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2320618620280514320</id><published>2010-10-06T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.392-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Right</title><content type='html'>Since Anna's birth 15 months ago, I've questioned my decision to allow Sarah to be present at the birth. She asked to. She &lt;em&gt;begged&lt;/em&gt; to. She adored her sister from the moment she found out Anna was a girl. What a priceless bonding experience, I thought, for an older sister to attend her baby sister's birth, to "be there" for her from the moment of her birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah is very mature for her age. At age three, strangers thought she was in kindergarten. She understands ideas and concepts with an adult-like clarity. We've never had "the birds and the bees talk" with her and yet she understands, somehow, that the making and birthing of a baby is a collaboration between God and (universal) Man. In preparation for Anna's birth, Sarah and I watched dozens of birth videos on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;youtube&lt;/span&gt;. She was fascinated, not frightened. She would tell anyone who'd listen, "my mommy is going to push my baby sister out of her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;buh&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;gina&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we were all set, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the birth videos we watched were of women giving birth either sitting up or semi-reclined. You could clearly see the women's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vaginas&lt;/span&gt; and the baby's heads as they were born. When Anna was born, I was on my hands and knees. Sarah could see the baby's head as it first emerged, and instead of seeing it come from my vagina, it looked as if, in Sarah's words, I was "pooping her out". Sarah didn't like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't as excited about Anna's birth as I'd hoped she'd be. It wasn't the huge sister bonding experience I expected. She didn't seem to be in awe of the birthing process. I was so disappointed! Had I made the right decision to allow her to attend Anna's birth? Had she been so traumatized by the birth that she wouldn't have a respect and love for birth as an adult?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;disappointment&lt;/span&gt; turned to joy after a conversation Sarah and I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sarah: Mommy, I think I want to be a doctor when I grow up.&lt;br /&gt;Me: That sounds like fun. Do you think you'll be a mommy, too?&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: Well...not really. I think just a doctor.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why don't you want to be a mommy?&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: Because having the baby is really hard work! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she talked about birth as "really hard work" my heart soared! She didn't view birth as painful, or gross, or scary or unimportant. It was just hard work. I asked her if learning to ride her bike, learning to read and write, and learning to crack eggs were hard work and she agreed they were. So I asked, "but now that you have those skills, aren't you glad you went through the hard work?" She said she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been one of my goals to raise my children with a respect for the normal birth process. I think I'm doing something right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2320618620280514320?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2320618620280514320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/10/something-right.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2320618620280514320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2320618620280514320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/10/something-right.html' title='Something Right'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7564599268147533711</id><published>2010-09-28T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Breastfeeding Advice?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TKHrpyAvkcI/AAAAAAAAAbg/YGBnooNal4Y/s1600/pedgatorade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521953721164992962" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TKHrpyAvkcI/AAAAAAAAAbg/YGBnooNal4Y/s320/pedgatorade.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna is 15 months old today and still in love with nursing. She shows no signs of wanting to stop nursing and even nurses a few times at night. She even nursed through five weeks of Pertussis this summer. I'm happy with that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two nights ago she had a temperature of 103.4 and experienced a febrile seizure. I've been a mother for nearly six years now but that was my first time dealing with one of those. It was terrifying. It was also very physically painful for me because she was nursing when the seizure came on, and she clamped her four sharp teeth right down on my nipple and I wasn't able to pry them off! I honestly thought my nipple was going to be bitten right off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally we don't take the children to a doctor for a fever, but since she had a febrile seizure I thought it warranted a quick trip. The doctor didn't seem to think anything of the seizure, but was &lt;em&gt;horrified&lt;/em&gt; that I hadn't taken her to the emergency room for such a high fever. Our older two always get very high temperatures when they're ill and we've never had any problems with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her problem was that she had a double inner-ear infection. The doctor asked if she had diarrhea also and I said yes. She told me that I needed to quit nursing her for 24 hours because "dairy is not good for diarrhea". I didn't feel like arguing with her, so I just smiled and nodded. When I got home I looked it up (as I always do when a doctor gives me breastfeeding advice) and found this from &lt;a href="http://www.kellymom.com/health/illness/baby-illness.html#vomiting"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;KellyMom&lt;/span&gt;.com &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The current recommendations when vomiting or diarrhea is present in the breastfed child are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;•Breastfeeding should be the FIRST choice if your child can take anything by mouth. Because of the ease and rapidity with which &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;breastmilk&lt;/span&gt; is digested, even if your child vomits or stools shortly after nursing, he will still have retained some of the nutrients. Other foods that are often suggested (such as &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Pedialyte&lt;/span&gt;, sports drinks, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;gelatins&lt;/span&gt; and sodas) offer little nutritional value and none of the antibodies that human milk contains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;•When your breastfed child is ill you'll want to offer more frequent feedings -- this can limit the volume taken in at one time and helps to comfort and soothe a sick child. If your child is vomiting often and not keeping the milk down for long, it may be helpful to breastfeed frequently but limit the length of each nursing session (so your child takes in less milk at once). Another option is for Mom to express some milk before breastfeeding so that the milk flow is slower. RARELY does the baby who is allowed to breastfeed at will during a vomiting or diarrhea illness become dehydrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I didn't feel the need to quit nursing her. It was so strange, because the doctor &lt;em&gt;seemed&lt;/em&gt; to be very supportive of breastfeeding, even past infancy. She treated my nursing a 15 month old as completely normal. She was surprised that Anna was eating solid food, though. I told her she ate nearly everything we did and the doctor said, "oh? so you puree it then?" I said that I just cut everything into small bites and she said, "so she has chewing teeth?" I said no, just the four in front, but she could chew fine with her gums. The doctor didn't seem to understand that. She's from India, so I'm wondering what Indian mothers feed their toddlers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7564599268147533711?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7564599268147533711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/09/bad-breastfeeding-advice.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7564599268147533711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7564599268147533711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/09/bad-breastfeeding-advice.html' title='Bad Breastfeeding Advice?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TKHrpyAvkcI/AAAAAAAAAbg/YGBnooNal4Y/s72-c/pedgatorade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4060894810237743538</id><published>2010-09-20T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Ain't Easy Being Green</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/TJeidrjIwxI/AAAAAAAAAdY/WH2B3_drGOY/s1600/kermit_5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519058499155837714" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/TJeidrjIwxI/AAAAAAAAAdY/WH2B3_drGOY/s320/kermit_5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. It's a disgusting picture, isn't it? So is HG. So why, then, &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; am I looking forward to another baby--another &lt;em&gt;pregnancy&lt;/em&gt;? Last night my husband and I were discussing my previous pregnancies and were having a fun &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;argument&lt;/span&gt; over how much weight I actually lost and in how much time. He said it wasn't &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; bad, that 30 lbs in 12 weeks is just a little more than 2 lbs a week. I corrected him, saying that I hadn't started getting sick until week six, so I actually lost 30 lbs in &lt;em&gt;six &lt;/em&gt;weeks. That was with my first pregnancy. The rest of our conversation went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband: Yeah, but that was with Sarah. You weren't as sick with the other two.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I know. I only lost 25lbs with Anna and about 15 with Caleb.&lt;br /&gt;Husband: Oh. I forgot how bad it was. [pause] ...and you want to do that &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The expression on his face said, "I wonder if it would be appropriate to suggest shock therapy?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I want to do it again. Again and again and &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;, Lord willing. What is right and what is worth it are rarely easy. I chose to have a cesarean with Sarah because I cared about her. It wasn't easy. It was scary and painful and lonely, but she was worth it. I planned a (socially unacceptable) &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;HBAC&lt;/span&gt; with Caleb, labored for 50+ hours at home and chose to transport to the hospital. For a good southern girl to do anything out of the mainstream required a strength of character I hadn't known I possessed. To labor that long required stamina and faith.  To transport to the hospital with the real threat of another section looming required the courage of ten Davids, but he was worth it. When I was told, with my third pregnancy, that I couldn't have a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; because no one here attended them, I moved out of state. That decision required that I live as a single mother of a four-year-old and a two-year-old while engaging a third fight with HG, but she was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Difficult tasks often require of us traits we don't associate with ourselves. Ask any president of any country if his or her job is easy. Ask a doctor what medical school and residency required of him. Ask a judge, a teacher, a soldier, a marathon runner. Their jobs require extreme faith, vigilance, focus, courage, resolve, strength--&lt;em&gt;sacrifice! &lt;/em&gt;They do what they do because it's worth it. It's worth it all. I know all of the jobs I mentioned are laudable jobs in today's culture, and people &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;applaud&lt;/span&gt; and reward the sacrifices of those who choose them. Everyone has had a mother though, and each mother makes equally noble, soul-searing, courageous sacrifices for her child, even if that choice is nothing more than allowing another, weaker, human-being to live within her body until he's strong enough to live with-out it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm looking forward to another pregnancy, another baby. Yes it will be one of the most difficult things I've ever done. Yes...he or she is worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4060894810237743538?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4060894810237743538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-ain-easy-being-green.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4060894810237743538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4060894810237743538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-ain-easy-being-green.html' title='It Ain&amp;#39;t Easy Being Green'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/TJeidrjIwxI/AAAAAAAAAdY/WH2B3_drGOY/s72-c/kermit_5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-9221925189952576018</id><published>2010-09-06T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought on my births</title><content type='html'>When I was planning my HBAC (home birth after cesarean) with baby #2 I was looking at songs for my birth video. Lately, some of the words of Jewel’s “Life Uncommon” have moved me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lend your voices only to sounds of freedom&lt;br /&gt;No longer lend you strength to that which you wish to be free from&lt;br /&gt;Fill your lives with love and bravery&lt;br /&gt;And you shall lead a life uncommon&lt;br /&gt;Let your words enslave no one and the heavens will hush themselves&lt;br /&gt;To hear our voices ring out clear&lt;br /&gt;With sounds of freedom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, then, I’ve decided that instead of raging against my section I will revel in the excruciating beauty of my vaginal births. Please don’t take this to mean that I don’t love my cesarean-born daughter. The Bible says, “greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” John 15:13 and when a mother consents to a section she truly, literally lays down her life. Cesareans aren’t 100% safe and the number of women dying from cesarean complications is on the rise. I took a Bradley Method class in preparation for an un-medicated hospital birth so when I consented to the section I was fully aware of the risks. I only say all of this because I have been accused here a number of times of not loving my daughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of Caleb’s birth I think of hands and rocks. That’s what my birth attendants and family were. They were rocks to support me and hands to hold me. Though you could call Caleb’s birth a “failed homebirth attempt”, I don’t view it as such. I gave him a beautiful 40 hours of stress-free, peaceful, and intervention-free labor at home. Caleb and I walked together, rocked on the swing outside, and I prayed over him in the warmth of my birth tub. My doula encouraged me, my midwife watched over me, my husband supported me and my mother and all my sisters were witnesses to my hard, loving work. I even had sex! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was Anna’s birth. I got to the hospital not knowing I was in labor, having just gone up to be “checked” because it was 3a.m. and my insomniac sister and I were awake and bored. Not only was I in labor, but I was about to give birth! I don’t even know how to describe Anna’s birth. I arrived at the hospital at 7cm and didn’t feel anything in the way of pain or intensity until 9cm. I had a birth ball put onto the bed and leaned and rocked over it until it got uncomfortable. Then I climbed up onto the bed and got on my hands and knees. It felt good and right. I felt led by…something. It was as if there was an instruction guide in my head and my body was following it and leading me along. The way my senses came alive, it was overwhelming! I could hear the tick, tick, ticking of the second hand on the clock behind me. I was intensetly focused the vein in my right hand pulsing with the same rhythm as my uterus. I cold smell the acrid, metallic bitterness of John’s glasses as he stood by (don’t touch me, just watch. Watch what’s going to happen!). I could feel Anna moving, turning, pushing her way out. She was ready, and I was ready, and it was as if she was saying to me, “quiet your mind and I’ll show you the way,” and I responded, “I’ll follow you”. My body and my mind were laid bare that morning; open wide and accepting of forces beyond their control. I wasn’t hooked up to machines. No one told me what to do or instructed me. Everyone in the room was simply a witness, as in a wedding ceremony. Do you, Becky Taylor, accept the solemn duty to birth and mother this baby, leading and following in turn, as necessary? I do…and then she was born, behind me. She was quiet for a moment and then she called out to me and I turned to face her for the first time. Those are the only moments from her conception that we’ve been emotionally separated; those few seconds before she breathed life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I adore, admire, respect and love my Sarah, my cesarean-born child, I cannot describe her birth the way I can Caleb’s and Anna’s, and that’s why I choose vaginal birth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-9221925189952576018?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/9221925189952576018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/09/thought-on-my-births.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/9221925189952576018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/9221925189952576018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/09/thought-on-my-births.html' title='Thought on my births'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4745851461937369672</id><published>2010-07-10T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He's Here! He's Here!</title><content type='html'>After my sister got her epidural last night her labor slowed down quite a bit. She &lt;em&gt;finally&lt;/em&gt; got to 5cm and then an hour later was completely dilated! &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Introducing baby Damian! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Born on Friday, July 9 at 10:14 p.m. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and weighing 7lbs, 2oz. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TDjzEotKsJI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/Ej_EpsHkz_Q/s1600/damian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492407006550208658" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TDjzEotKsJI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/Ej_EpsHkz_Q/s320/damian.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In Loving Memory of Baby Izaiah, born still at 38 weeks in December 2005&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TDjzNhEAObI/AAAAAAAAAaY/PpV5zdDFebs/s1600/lindsizaiah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 228px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492407159117330866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TDjzNhEAObI/AAAAAAAAAaY/PpV5zdDFebs/s320/lindsizaiah.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sister L with baby Izaiah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TDjyhRSN-0I/AAAAAAAAAaI/tVVzukN8Ye0/s1600/lindsdamian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492406398967741250" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TDjyhRSN-0I/AAAAAAAAAaI/tVVzukN8Ye0/s320/lindsdamian.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Four years later with his brother, Damian&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TDjyhRSN-0I/AAAAAAAAAaI/tVVzukN8Ye0/s1600/lindsdamian.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4745851461937369672?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4745851461937369672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/07/he-here-he-here.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4745851461937369672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4745851461937369672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/07/he-here-he-here.html' title='He&amp;#39;s Here! He&amp;#39;s Here!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TDjzEotKsJI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/Ej_EpsHkz_Q/s72-c/damian.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8529295726373938127</id><published>2010-07-09T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's THE Day!</title><content type='html'>So, today's the big day! Sister L's baby will be born, one way or another. For those of you who don't know sister L's birth history, you can &lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2008/02/now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleeep.html"&gt;read her story here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's 36 weeks, 1 day. She's been in the hospital for 4 or 5 days for "observation". Her induction was supposed to start last night at midnight, but there were no "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;LDR&lt;/span&gt;" rooms available and the nursery was "overflowing" with babies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're all so nervous for her. Really, we've all been nervous the entire pregnancy! I'm hoping this baby can be born as peacefully as possible, but they've already had her sign a cesarean consent form. That's&lt;em&gt; not&lt;/em&gt; good news.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8529295726373938127?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8529295726373938127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/07/today-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8529295726373938127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8529295726373938127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/07/today-day.html' title='Today&amp;#39;s THE Day!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7260450701166816061</id><published>2010-06-02T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.484-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My hometown is being eaten by a black, oily monster</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TAa1ssvImxI/AAAAAAAAAaA/XpXrtAQxU9E/s1600/farewell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 223px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478265776270514962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TAa1ssvImxI/AAAAAAAAAaA/XpXrtAQxU9E/s320/farewell.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://lilypie.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7260450701166816061?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7260450701166816061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-hometown-is-being-eaten-by-black.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7260450701166816061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7260450701166816061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-hometown-is-being-eaten-by-black.html' title='My hometown is being eaten by a black, oily monster'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TAa1ssvImxI/AAAAAAAAAaA/XpXrtAQxU9E/s72-c/farewell.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-303843901233936478</id><published>2010-05-28T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When You Grow Up, Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TAAAPxczPUI/AAAAAAAAAZw/YYIIYLaIAeA/s1600/newbornSARAH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476377417854696770" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TAAAPxczPUI/AAAAAAAAAZw/YYIIYLaIAeA/s320/newbornSARAH.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;Come back when you grow up, girl&lt;br /&gt;You're still &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;livin&lt;/span&gt;' in a paper-doll world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Livin&lt;/span&gt;' ain't easy, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lovin's&lt;/span&gt; twice as tough&lt;br /&gt;So come back, baby, when you grow up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You look real good like a woman now&lt;br /&gt;Your mind hasn't gotten the message somehow&lt;br /&gt;So if you can't take it 'n' the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;goin&lt;/span&gt;' gets rough&lt;br /&gt;Come back, baby, when you grow up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;~from "Come Back When You Grow Up Girl" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;by Bobby &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Vee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I turned 29 years old last month, but apparently I still look like a teenager. I've always looked younger than my age would suggest. Two recent examples: When I was admitted to the hospital at 13 weeks pregnant (at age 28) to be treated for severe HG, the intake nurse asked me about the highest level of education I'd completed. When I told her I had a bachelor's degree her head snapped in my direction and she mused, "Huh. I thought you were just 15 or 16!" This last week when we were at the rehearsal for my brother-in-law's wedding I was walking with Anna in the Ergo, Caleb holding my hand and Sarah walking two or three steps in front of us. A lady sitting on a bench stopped my and asked, "Are they all yours?" When I answered "yes, ma'am!" she clicked her tongue a bit, shook her head in shame and said, "No. &lt;em&gt;no&lt;/em&gt;. You're just too young to have all them children!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I've never wanted to be, or look, older than I am. My dream has always been to be &lt;em&gt;treated&lt;/em&gt; as an adult. My husband likes to say, "Becky, you're a 29 year old married mother of three children. You need to start seeing yourself as an adult!" How can I view myself as something opposite what nearly everyone else sees? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When I was pregnant with my first child, Sarah, I thought that having a baby would make me feel more "grown up". I felt certain that becoming a mother would elevate me society's eyes and I'd be respected, finally, as a &lt;em&gt;woman, a mother. &lt;/em&gt;Sure, we snicker and roll our eyes when a teenage girl says that about why she had a baby with her boyfriend, but there is truth in feeling that a baby will mature a girl/woman. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;As a first-time, pregnant mother I never felt more childish. I felt stripped--&lt;em&gt;robbed&lt;/em&gt;--of any adulthood and autonomy I'd gained. At my very first prenatal appointment, someone who was not the doctor came in, told me she was going to do an ultrasound and without waiting for a reply or permission, stuck a thin ultrasound "probe" into my vagina. She had a difficult time finding my uterus and said so in a way that implied it was &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; fault. So I did what any polite southern &lt;em&gt;child&lt;/em&gt; would do and apologized. During a subsequent visit I was told that I wasn't a good mother because I was so squeamish that is was impossible for the lab technician to draw my blood. Once, when trying to explain the extent of my (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-diagnosed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hyperemesis&lt;/span&gt;) nausea, the doctor spoke down to me condescendingly and said that I was being a &lt;em&gt;baby&lt;/em&gt;, that &lt;em&gt;women&lt;/em&gt; (implying I was a baby, not a woman) the world over dealt with morning sickness all the time without complaining, and that I should just suck lemons. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Despite all this, I harboured hope that the act of giving birth would make me a "real woman". I'd give birth on my own, without anyone holding my legs, without anyone telling me when or how to breathe, without numbing or mind-altering drugs. I'd push my baby out with &lt;em&gt;my own&lt;/em&gt; strength, hold her in &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; arms, and feed her with &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; breasts. Yet, if you've read here long enough you know that none of those dreams were realized. I was taken in for an unexpected cesarean at 37 weeks. I wasn't told exactly why I needed the section, just that my uterus was a "hostile environment" for my baby and she'd be "better off" outside of my body. I was numbed from the chest down, strapped to a table and cut open. My baby was brought forth from my body by the gloved hands of a stranger who didn't even know her name, instead proclaiming that she was "&lt;em&gt;her &lt;/em&gt;peanut". Finally, with a slashed uterus and numbed breasts, there was no nursing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The very things I had associated with womanhood-uterus, vagina, breasts--were all either damaged, ignored or numbed. For me, this first birth had &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt; in a little girl's paper doll world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-303843901233936478?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/303843901233936478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-you-grow-up-girl.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/303843901233936478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/303843901233936478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-you-grow-up-girl.html' title='When You Grow Up, Girl'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/TAAAPxczPUI/AAAAAAAAAZw/YYIIYLaIAeA/s72-c/newbornSARAH.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5375616005480535885</id><published>2010-05-11T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My terrible secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://rlv.zcache.com/frowny_face_green_customized_keychain-p146319326576632937td8i_210.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 210px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://rlv.zcache.com/frowny_face_green_customized_keychain-p146319326576632937td8i_210.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I want to talk a little bit out my "terrible secret". If you've read here for awhile then you probably already know a few things about me such as: I don't use artificial birth control (though you may not know we've made the decision to stop &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;NFP&lt;/span&gt;, as well), I hated my cesarean, I adore the experience of giving birth. What you may not know, however, is that &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm absolutely, whole-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;heartedly&lt;/span&gt;, terrifyingly afraid of my next pregnancy. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;So scared, in fact, that last night I dreamed that I finally got my period back and woke up in a cold sweat, shaking, at the thought that now I was sure my fertility had returned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there it is. My secret. It's not that I don't &lt;em&gt;like&lt;/em&gt; pregnancy. I do! I've never been a skinny girl, so when I get pregnant I sort of get it into my head that, "I'm not fat, I'm just pregnant!" I think pregnant bodies are amazingly beautiful and I love feeling beautiful. I love watching my belly grow. Feeling my babies move in my womb is one of the most treasured memories of my life. I feel so special and blessed when I'm pregnant. What an high honor to be chosen to help bring &lt;em&gt;life&lt;/em&gt; into the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, though, there's a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;putridly&lt;/span&gt; dark side of pregnancy. My body hates pregnancy and babies and does everything it can to starve and kill my babies and me. I suffer from a traumatic pregnancy illness called &lt;a href="http://www.helpher.org/"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hyperemesis&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;gravidarum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I've had it will all of my pregnancies except the baby I miscarried, so that's three times I've survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a horrifying, soul-crushing illness. For me, having HG is exacerbated by hypersensitive senses; specifically taste, smell and touch. In my pregnant state, the world--&lt;em&gt;everything&lt;/em&gt;--smells as if it's coated in a thick layer of vomit. My sense of smell is very sensitive when I'm not pregnant so when I become pregnant my husband calls me the "human bloodhound". When I move from one smell to another, I vomit. Leaving my bedroom and going into the hallway-I vomit. Going out the front door, I vomit. Getting into the truck, vomit. From the truck to outside the truck, vomit. It's really &lt;em&gt;that bad.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything tastes horrible. The thought of eating food repulses me. I can't even stand to kiss my husband or children. I can't stand to put &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt; in my mouth. My HG world is also filthy. I feel like everything around me is covered in grime, dirt, sewage, etc. I can't touch &lt;em&gt;anything. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see how awful this is for me? HG is &lt;em&gt;bad.&lt;/em&gt; So bad that sometimes women die from it. So bad that women will abort...&lt;em&gt;abort!&lt;/em&gt;...wanted, prayed for, dreamed of babies because they feel like they're dying and no one will/can help them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the idea of going through this a fourth time gives me hives but... what if? What if I'm supposed to be learning and growing from these pregnancies? What if all the knowledge and strength gained from a mother-led, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;unmedicated&lt;/span&gt; birth is also available to me if I quit "numbing" my pregnancy with fear, doubt, lack of faith, hopelessness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I learn about my Lord, my body, my husband, my children, my baby, myself... from an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-numbed HG pregnancy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lilypie.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5375616005480535885?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5375616005480535885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-terrible-secret.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5375616005480535885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5375616005480535885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-terrible-secret.html' title='My terrible secret'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2947643168884922697</id><published>2010-05-06T03:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What happens when the child you're given isn't the child you expected?</title><content type='html'>Recently, sister H's daughter, baby C, was diagnosed with autism. She's just 19 months old, which is very young for a diagnosis and that's encouraging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the autistic children I've met have what they call a "regressive" form of the condition. Everything seems perfectly as it should be, with baby reaching milestones on or before "schedule", and then sometime between 15 months and two years the child begins losing previously mastered skills and milestones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S-Ke1zEJNAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/w1iUAwvqKrY/s1600/abc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468107544659047426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S-Ke1zEJNAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/w1iUAwvqKrY/s320/abc.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is not baby C. For us, her family, it was very obvious almost from birth that something wasn't quite right. Sister H was blind to it, but my mother, other sisters and I could see. She never looked &lt;em&gt;at &lt;/em&gt;you. It always seemed as though she lived in a different...&lt;em&gt;world?...&lt;/em&gt;than the rest of us. She used her feet as most children would use their hands and could sit for hours opening and closing a drawer. She just began walking at 17 months and spins in circles frequently, and still isn't speaking beyond the babbling you hear in a 6-7 month old baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, we could all see that baby C needed help, but we were afraid of insulting sister H. No matter how gently you suggest something like that, what most mothers would hear you say is, "your kid's messed up." Thankfully, sister A sees the same pediatrician as sister H, so she mentioned our concerns to the doctor, and the doctor (who also has an autistic child) brought up the subject with sister H at baby C's 18 month well-child visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The diagnosis hit sister H very hard. She became deflated, a shell of her normal self. It was so hard to watch. Surely she must have suspected &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt; before, but to be confronted with it finally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's very sensitive in general, but even more so about baby C now. It's hard to talk to her about anything related to C's autism. There's so much I want to tell her. I want to tell her that we all &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; baby C to death, if not as much then even &lt;em&gt;more&lt;/em&gt; than before. I want to tell her that every mother experiences the "death" of the baby she'd imagined. The baby birthed from a woman's womb is never the baby she conceived in her mind. For some of us, the differences are minor but for some they're dramatic. I want to tell her that baby C is precious in the eyes of the Lord and that she is "beautifully and wonderfully made," just as we all are. I want give her my whole body for support; arms to wrap around them both, shoulders to cry on, ears to listen, mouth to speak encouragement, eyes to view every victory and feet that are swift to run to her side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2947643168884922697?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2947643168884922697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-happens-when-child-you-given-isn.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2947643168884922697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2947643168884922697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-happens-when-child-you-given-isn.html' title='What happens when the child you&amp;#39;re given isn&amp;#39;t the child you expected?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S-Ke1zEJNAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/w1iUAwvqKrY/s72-c/abc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3111521109203522809</id><published>2010-04-27T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MIA and Pictures</title><content type='html'>Sorry I've been absent so long. Having three children keeps my hands (happily) full! I plan to post at least once a week now though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna will be 10 months old tomorrow! Where did my sweet, new baby go? She's so grown up now. Still no teeth, but Sarah didn't get teeth until she was a year old. She began crawling about 6 weeks ago (an army crawl on her belly) and has rapidly progressed to pulling herself to a sit, pulling up to stand and now cruising. Last night she finally got up on her hands and knees to crawl, but I don't think she'll be crawling much longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in &lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2008/05/we-interrupt-this-blog.html"&gt;Pensacola&lt;/a&gt; last weekend and visited Ft. Pickens several times. I wanted to share some of the pictures with you. It really is a beautiful park!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cwEdwuxyI/AAAAAAAAAYI/YY9atr36PYw/s1600/aprilmay8.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464889526104016674" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cwEdwuxyI/AAAAAAAAAYI/YY9atr36PYw/s200/aprilmay8.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna standing on the boardwalk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9c1Y27yX7I/AAAAAAAAAZI/RONcwQDrAUI/s1600/aprilmay58.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464895374016798642" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9c1Y27yX7I/AAAAAAAAAZI/RONcwQDrAUI/s200/aprilmay58.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't say the thought doesn't cross my mind...frequently!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9c0_TR5YpI/AAAAAAAAAZA/MjmgAguFQv4/s1600/aprilmay47.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464894934949126802" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9c0_TR5YpI/AAAAAAAAAZA/MjmgAguFQv4/s200/aprilmay47.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This picture gives me chills. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9c2Le9k8yI/AAAAAAAAAZY/zhBdjcWoLKU/s1600/aprilmay90.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 152px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464896243755184930" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9c2Le9k8yI/AAAAAAAAAZY/zhBdjcWoLKU/s200/aprilmay90.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;An artsy photo of Sarah. She's looking across the intercoastal waterway at &lt;a href="http://www.nps.gov/guis/planyourvisit/fort-barrancas.htm"&gt;Fort Barrancas.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cwhhS9pXI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/8kQqp-frXtU/s1600/aprilmay10.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464890025269110130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cwhhS9pXI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/8kQqp-frXtU/s200/aprilmay10.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caleb climbing on the same rocks I used to play on when I was a child. One of my fondest memories!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cw3dogMVI/AAAAAAAAAYY/cs4vZlntbj0/s1600/aprilmay19.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464890402242834770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cw3dogMVI/AAAAAAAAAYY/cs4vZlntbj0/s200/aprilmay19.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah and Caleb examining something Sarah caught in her net. She's quite the "hunter"!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cximWXDAI/AAAAAAAAAYg/wZA5-6lfwbo/s1600/aprilmay25.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 159px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464891143317031938" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cximWXDAI/AAAAAAAAAYg/wZA5-6lfwbo/s200/aprilmay25.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anna nursing on the beach. Heaven on Earth: warm sun, salty sea and a baby at the breast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9czBkSrCHI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Xj4iR2GQ6Gw/s1600/aprilmay30.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464892774852266098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9czBkSrCHI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Xj4iR2GQ6Gw/s200/aprilmay30.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My beautiful baby girl! She's watching Daddy, Sarah and Caleb catch sand crabs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9c0RpOW-FI/AAAAAAAAAY4/W8tEMIBlHxQ/s1600/aprilmay49.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 156px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464894150565886034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9c0RpOW-FI/AAAAAAAAAY4/W8tEMIBlHxQ/s200/aprilmay49.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarah and Caleb exploring Fort Pickens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lilypie.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3111521109203522809?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3111521109203522809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/04/mia-and-pictures.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3111521109203522809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3111521109203522809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/04/mia-and-pictures.html' title='MIA and Pictures'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S9cwEdwuxyI/AAAAAAAAAYI/YY9atr36PYw/s72-c/aprilmay8.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5494935426718171530</id><published>2010-04-14T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.625-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Response, or Why I Choose Vaginal Birth</title><content type='html'>I frequent a local mom's forum and was recently "called out" in a post by a cesarean-loving mother. In her post she said something like, "I don't care what people like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vbacwarrior&lt;/span&gt; think. I've signed up for my repeat c-section and I don't feel guilty!" I feel so bad for her. She obviously does feel guilty or she wouldn't have felt the need for that qualifier. I worked very hard on a response-several days. I just poured my heart out to her, and I hope she feels my sincerity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Since I’m in town for a bit and my “name” was mentioned, I thought I’d attempt a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was planning my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;HBAC&lt;/span&gt; (home birth after cesarean) with baby #2 I was looking at songs for my birth video. Lately, some of the words of Jewel’s “Life Uncommon” have moved me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lend your voices only to sounds of freedom&lt;br /&gt;No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from&lt;br /&gt;Fill your lives with love and bravery&lt;br /&gt;And you shall lead a life uncommon&lt;br /&gt;Let your words enslave no one and the heavens will hush themselves&lt;br /&gt;To hear our voices ring out clear&lt;br /&gt;With sounds of freedom&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, then, I’&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; decided that instead of raging against my section I will revel in the excruciating beauty of my vaginal births. Please don’t take this to mean that I don’t love my cesarean-born daughter. The Bible says, “greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” John 15:13 and when a mother consents to a section she truly, literally lays down her life. Cesareans &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;aren&lt;/span&gt;’t 100% safe and the number of women dying from cesarean complications is on the rise. I took a Bradley Method class in preparation for an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-medicated hospital birth so when I consented to the section I was fully aware of the risks. I only say all of this because I have been accused here a number of times of not loving my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of Caleb’s birth I think of hands and rocks. That’s what my birth attendants and family were. They were rocks to support me and hands to hold me. Though you could call Caleb’s birth a “failed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt; attempt”, I don’t view it as such. I gave him a beautiful 40 hours of stress-free, peaceful, and intervention-free labor at home. Caleb and I walked together, rocked on the swing outside, and I prayed over him in the warmth of my birth tub. My &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doula&lt;/span&gt; encouraged me, my midwife watched over me, my husband supported me and my mother and all my sisters were witnesses to my hard, loving work. I even had sex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was Anna’s birth. I got to the hospital not knowing I was in labor, having just gone up to be “checked” because it was 3a.m. and my insomniac sister and I were awake and bored. Not only was I in labor, but I was about to give birth! I don’t even know how to describe Anna’s birth. I arrived at the hospital at 7cm and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t feel anything in the way of pain or intensity until 9cm. I had a birth ball put onto the bed and leaned and rocked over it until it got uncomfortable. Then I climbed up onto the bed and got on my hands and knees. It felt good and right. I felt led by…something. It was as if there was an instruction guide in my head and my body was following it and leading me along. The way my senses came alive, it was overwhelming! I could hear the tick, tick, ticking of the second hand on the clock behind me. I was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;intensely&lt;/span&gt; focused on the vein in my right hand pulsing with the same rhythm as my uterus. I cold smell the acrid, metallic bitterness of John’s glasses as he stood by (don’t touch me, just watch. Watch what’s going to happen!). I could feel Anna moving, turning, pushing her way out. She was ready, and I was ready, and it was as if she was saying to me, “quiet your mind and I’ll show you the way,” and I responded, “I’ll follow you”. My body and my mind were laid bare that morning; open wide and accepting of forces beyond their control. I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t hooked up to machines. No one told me what to do or instructed me. Everyone in the room was simply a witness, as in a wedding ceremony. Do you, Becky Taylor, accept the solemn duty to birth and mother this baby, leading and following in turn, as necessary? I do…and then she was born, behind me. She was quiet for a moment and then she called out to me and I turned to face her for the first time. Those are the only moments from her conception that we’&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; been emotionally separated; those few seconds before she breathed life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I adore, admire, respect and love my Sarah, my cesarean-born child, I cannot describe her birth the way I can Caleb’s and Anna’s, and that’s why I choose vaginal birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And P.S. I pooped. No one cared. When you’re witnessing such a painfully beautiful birth and exquisite baby girl, poop &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t even compare ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; [In her post the mother had used not wanting to "poop" in labor as one of her most valid reasons for having a cesarean]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5494935426718171530?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5494935426718171530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-response-or-why-i-choose-vaginal.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5494935426718171530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5494935426718171530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-response-or-why-i-choose-vaginal.html' title='My Response, or Why I Choose Vaginal Birth'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6729741815536979407</id><published>2010-03-06T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know what you did last summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I know what you did last summer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did something last summer.&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I did it for the second time.&lt;br /&gt;Most professionals think what I did is dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;I was told I shouldn’t do it. Many institutions have banned it.&lt;br /&gt;I meet women very often who have never even heard of what it is I did.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes women say they wish they could do what I did&lt;br /&gt;but they aren’t allowed.&lt;br /&gt;Or brave enough.&lt;br /&gt;Or wide enough or thick enough.&lt;br /&gt;Or, it’s just not convenient&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;enough&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the very law itself doesn’t allow women to do what I did.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve read of women being “hauled in”, against their will,&lt;br /&gt;when they wanted to do what I did.&lt;br /&gt;I had to cross state lines to do it. Some women have to travel much further.&lt;br /&gt;There was a short period of time when it was popular&lt;br /&gt;to do what I did.&lt;br /&gt;It’s not popular anymore, but then I’ve never been a popular girl.&lt;br /&gt;Five years ago I didn’t know I had it in me to do something so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;outrageous&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;You know my mother did it three times—&lt;br /&gt;rebel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6729741815536979407?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6729741815536979407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-know-what-you-did-last-summer.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6729741815536979407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6729741815536979407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-know-what-you-did-last-summer.html' title='I know what you did last summer'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7800658692600283110</id><published>2010-02-25T15:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.669-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My beautiful nursie baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S4cFWlIIHMI/AAAAAAAAAXs/e5DRd5n2O_k/s1600-h/006BW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 307px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442324560181992642" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S4cFWlIIHMI/AAAAAAAAAXs/e5DRd5n2O_k/s320/006BW.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just a simple picture to share. My older daughter took the picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7800658692600283110?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7800658692600283110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-beautiful-nursie-baby.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7800658692600283110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7800658692600283110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-beautiful-nursie-baby.html' title='My beautiful nursie baby'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S4cFWlIIHMI/AAAAAAAAAXs/e5DRd5n2O_k/s72-c/006BW.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5939858485801556824</id><published>2010-02-17T07:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Hard Question</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.dspotblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/olympic_rings-300x300.png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 185px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.dspotblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/olympic_rings-300x300.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began questioning the so-called outrageousness of me having to travel to have my VBAC last night as I watched the Olympics. There was a male figure skater who was skating for Italy and the announcer said that he was actually French but the European Federation wouldn't allow him to skate for France. So, with lofty Olympic dreams in his head, this young man denounced his French citizenship and became at Italian citizen. You might say, &lt;em&gt;"Wow! What an ambitious young man. Now that's a person who had a dream and wasn't afraid to sacrifice to follow it. Good for him. Bravo!"&lt;/em&gt; Indeed, the announcer's tone of voice seethed admiration for the young man's actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the young man skated I recalled another skater in this year's Olympics, a woman, who gave up her Japanese citizenship to skate for Russia. She even changed the spelling of her last name. The reason given was that there was no couple's skating "legacy" in Japan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With all this in mind, my hard question: Is it &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; so "outrageous" that I had to travel to another state to have a VBAC?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was going through the ordeal I thought it was ridiculous. Why should I have to inconvenience my family and myself just to give birth vaginally to my baby? Why should I have to travel so far away? Why wouldn't the doctors or midwives here just attend my baby's birth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, what would have happened to the young skater from France or the young skater from Japan had they had similar thoughts? Had they scoffed at the inconvenience their dreams produced, I wouldn't know who they are because they wouldn't be in the Olympics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day people go through unimaginable circumstances and face such extreme obstacles to getting what their hearts desire. Think about people who travel to other states or countries for state-of-the-art medical treatments. Do they complain about the inconvenience?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'll repeat my hard question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; so "outrageous" that I had to travel to another&lt;br /&gt;state to have a VBAC?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5939858485801556824?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5939858485801556824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/02/hard-question.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5939858485801556824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5939858485801556824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/02/hard-question.html' title='A Hard Question'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6305021076477275839</id><published>2010-02-10T18:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A new carrier</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Since Caleb was a baby I've carried my babies in a ring sling. I loved my ring sling. It was easy to put on, easy to put baby in and easy to take baby out. After a recent trip to the chiropractor, my husband decided that it was wreaking havoc on my back. I'd heard many moms sing the praises of the Ergo baby carrier so I ordered one and... it came today! I hated it for about an hour but it's growing on me. I still stand my my assertion that it wasn't designed for shorter people though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S3NxZTnghcI/AAAAAAAAAXk/oVAADfS6CcY/s1600-h/Copy+of+February7.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 302px; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436813854742971842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S3NxZTnghcI/AAAAAAAAAXk/oVAADfS6CcY/s400/Copy+of+February7.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Anna Lily 7.5 months&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6305021076477275839?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6305021076477275839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/02/new-carrier.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6305021076477275839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6305021076477275839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/02/new-carrier.html' title='A new carrier'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S3NxZTnghcI/AAAAAAAAAXk/oVAADfS6CcY/s72-c/Copy+of+February7.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2860888331495893276</id><published>2010-02-05T03:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 57px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 74px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434731186513972834" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S2wLOD3nDmI/AAAAAAAAAXc/jFkuf9LFcLo/s400/footprints.jpg" /&gt;I've wanted to write about this for several weeks now. Actually, about 10 weeks. One of my sisters is pregnant. . . again. She's my only sister (out of four) who has given birth without a cesarean. She's the sister who gave birth at 15 years old, at 38 weeks, to a still born baby boy. That was four years ago and &lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2008/02/now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleeep.html"&gt;I wrote about it here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now sister L is 19 years old. She's so excited to be pregnant. She found out last week that she's having another son (his name is Damien). But. . .but. Just before the became pregnant she was diagnosed with Grave's Disease. From what I've read, this doesn't have to interfere with the pregnancy in any way. Again, but. Her doctor also found that she has the &lt;a href="http://www.pregnancy-info.net/mthfr.html"&gt;MTHFR gene mutation&lt;/a&gt;. From pregnancy-info.net:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Because of a mother with MTHFR’s inability to efficiently metabolize folic acid and&lt;br /&gt;vitamin B9, the disorder has been linked to a variety of pregnancy complications&lt;br /&gt;such as chromosomal abnormalities, such as Down syndrome, and congenital&lt;br /&gt;malformations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elevated levels of homocysteine have been associated with&lt;br /&gt;placental disease, preeclampsia and recurrent pregnancy loss. 21%&lt;br /&gt;of women with high levels of homocysteine experience recurrent pregnancy&lt;br /&gt;loss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has already been "counseled" about her "options". No doubt, being 19 and facing the chance of a baby with Down's Syndrome, spina bifida or still born she was "counseled" to abort my sweet nephew. What kind of doctor tells a mother who has lost a child that she should &lt;em&gt;kill&lt;/em&gt; her next child? No, this new little guy is one of the most fortunate babies on this earth. His mama is going to love him jealously and protect him fiercely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're all &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; worried for sister L though. She faces the very real chance of losing Damien. She lost Izaiah at 38 weeks, so it's a very long road ahead, littered with egg shells. None of us will breathe until Damien is safe in L's arms. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The part of L's story I struggle most with is her decision to schedule a c-section at 37 weeks. In my head I understand &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; she's made this choice. In her mind, if she'd had a c-section at 37 weeks with Izaiah, he would be a 4 year old little boy playing with worms and catching frogs, instead of a painful 4 year old memory. There are many things I want to tell her that I dare not. I want to tell her that he might not be ready to be born at 37 weeks and may suffer complications. Babies born too soon frequently die. He could have problems that plague him the rest of his life. What about L? She could lose her uterus (at 19!). She could suffer crippling adhesions. She could contract meningitis or MRSA. She could suffer from secondary infertility. &lt;em&gt;She could die&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I worry so much for her. Helping her grieve the loss of another son would tear me apart. Hearing her speak flippantly about a section that was "great" would make me wince. Allowing her to share her tears over a section that was "awful, painful, why-didn't-you-tell-me-how-bad-it-was-going-to-be" would crush me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's just no right answer. Nothing right to say to her. My job until the end of July will be to listen to her, share her joy and pray with every ounce of faith that is in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2860888331495893276?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2860888331495893276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/02/ive-wanted-to-write-about-this-for.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2860888331495893276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2860888331495893276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/02/ive-wanted-to-write-about-this-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S2wLOD3nDmI/AAAAAAAAAXc/jFkuf9LFcLo/s72-c/footprints.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-787817231109603929</id><published>2010-01-11T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.735-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is the Section Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S0vEfyW6-FI/AAAAAAAAAUU/DJ17zy_I6Vo/s1600-h/Sarahbirth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425646226470795346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S0vEfyW6-FI/AAAAAAAAAUU/DJ17zy_I6Vo/s320/Sarahbirth.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When I talk about my cesarean do you hear that I'm judging you? &lt;em&gt;What you should hear&lt;/em&gt; is that five years ago I had a surgical birth that I didn't want, wasn't prepared for, and still mourn. What I'm &lt;em&gt;saying&lt;/em&gt; is that whether or not mine was necessary it left a scar that healed in the shape of a frown and a scar that is still open. If you &lt;u&gt;really listened to me&lt;/u&gt;, you'd know that I don't believe all c-sections are unnecessary and evil but that there are a heck of a lot of them being performed that &lt;em&gt;aren't&lt;/em&gt; necessary and &lt;em&gt;those&lt;/em&gt; are evil. Birth in this country has become a high-stakes football game with women and babies acting as that old "pig skin". The fact is: cesareans aren't safe. Your skin and uterus are cut and they weren't &lt;em&gt;meant&lt;/em&gt; to be. If I stretch a rubber band too tightly it will break because it &lt;em&gt;wasn't made to stretch that far.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five years ago I bled nails and hot tears&lt;br /&gt;Now I bleed bitter sweetness and love&lt;br /&gt;But it &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt; hurts, and I still &lt;em&gt;bleed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first child, my sweet little girl, will forever share her spot in my mind with an awful memory. Maybe that's what hurts the most. It's not fair to her and it's not fair to me. So, each January 12 I smile and congratulate, give sweet hugs and pretty presents, and marvel as this little 3lb baby continues to grow and learn. But in the evening I close my door and I hurt. I &lt;em&gt;hurt&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know many of you will say that it shouldn't be so bad this year because I finally "got the birth I always wanted." &lt;em&gt;I wanted that kind of birth for my &lt;strong&gt;babies! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Not for me. Sarah didn't get that birth. I was able to give it to her two younger siblings, but not her. Not her. That's never going to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S0vD8fIKpFI/AAAAAAAAAUM/8TMr_G9QjSA/s1600-h/Sarah.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 202px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425645620013212754" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S0vD8fIKpFI/AAAAAAAAAUM/8TMr_G9QjSA/s320/Sarah.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January 12, 2005&lt;br /&gt;The day of my daughter's exit from my open womb.&lt;br /&gt;My baby's birth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-787817231109603929?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/787817231109603929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/01/today-is-section-anniversary.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/787817231109603929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/787817231109603929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/01/today-is-section-anniversary.html' title='Today is the Section Anniversary'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S0vEfyW6-FI/AAAAAAAAAUU/DJ17zy_I6Vo/s72-c/Sarahbirth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4247776216020332741</id><published>2010-01-04T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.804-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weeping</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S0I5RJSLC_I/AAAAAAAAAT0/2b-XBMEHH-A/s1600-h/snowflake.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 247px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 273px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422959868020198386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S0I5RJSLC_I/AAAAAAAAAT0/2b-XBMEHH-A/s400/snowflake.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is a chance of snow here (in mid/south &lt;em&gt;Georgia &lt;/em&gt;no less!) on Sarah's 5th birthday. The 5th anniversary of my section. Words almost fail me, as I feel I cannot describe what a beautiful gift that would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Snow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, white, pure, fresh, &lt;em&gt;forgiven&lt;/em&gt; snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Snow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, frozen water, like tears. Beautiful frozen January tears. As if the Lord himself was weeping with me and quenching this still-burning ache in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Snow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, clean and light, on the very day my heart feels the dirtiest and most burdened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Snow... &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;snow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4247776216020332741?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4247776216020332741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/01/weeping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4247776216020332741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4247776216020332741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2010/01/weeping.html' title='Weeping'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/S0I5RJSLC_I/AAAAAAAAAT0/2b-XBMEHH-A/s72-c/snowflake.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3015225889444676412</id><published>2009-11-24T03:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My baby boy is 3!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SwvLPHylsuI/AAAAAAAAATs/B-eXBydee7o/s1600/caleb+then+and+now.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407639238238122722" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SwvLPHylsuI/AAAAAAAAATs/B-eXBydee7o/s400/caleb+then+and+now.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I fought so hard for Caleb. I planned the kind of birth I felt would be best for him, and because of my choices I endured many raised eyebrows and questions that doubled as insults. I don’t even pretend to know what was said when I wasn’t around. I think what many people didn’t know was the extent to which my whole heart was in Caleb’s birth plans. Sarah’s birth destroyed me—ruthlessly, unmercifully annihilated anything that I had ever been, and Sarah suffered for that. Still suffers for that, though it is a work in progress. I was not going to just lie down and let that happen to Caleb. I just wasn’t. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What people probably thought was that I was sectioned by a doctor in a hospital so I just wasn’t going to see a doctor or go into a hospital for Caleb’s birth. That wasn’t true. As John can attest, I read books, researched on the internet, spoke with people both online and in person, until the only words that came from my mouth were pregnancy and birth related. My plans for Caleb’s safe birth were all-consuming. I even had a consultation with a perinatologist at the hospital who told me, outright, that my best chances at a VBAC were at home. We hired a wonderful midwife with decades of experience and over a thousand births under her belt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to popular belief, I did not want what some homebirth opponents call a “spa birth”. I wasn’t planning to give birth in a dim, candle-lit room with soft music in the background. I had no illusions of an easy, pain-free birth. I had every thought and expectation that it would be the most painful, scary, intense thing I had ever done. And that it would be safe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knew from &lt;em&gt;very personal, very recent&lt;/em&gt; experience that the thing we call “birth” doesn’t always go as planned and can sometimes have a tragic end. Just 8 weeks before Caleb was conceived one of &lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2008/02/now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleeep.html"&gt;my sisters lost her son at 38 weeks&lt;/a&gt;. She wasn’t even in labor. He just…died. I was the one with her when the doctor told her. Mine were the first hands she desperately squeezed. My arms were the first to support her. My eyes were the first to see her tears. I saw her heart split right open and I’ll never, ever forget the enormity of the black grief that flowed out. But, all the hospital-birth-planning in the world wouldn’t have saved my little nephew. Babies die all the time in hospitals. If it was the Lord’s will for my baby boy to die in birth, it would happen whether or not we were in a hospital. In my opinion, a peaceful death is as important as a peaceful birth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really can see Jesus in Caleb. I look at him and marvel, “this is what Jesus must have been like at age 1, at age 2, at age 3”. What a blessing He must have been to His mother! If Sarah challenges and blesses me intellectually, Caleb challenges and blesses me emotionally. I look at him and just melt. He is so kind and tender-hearted! There’s a story in the Bible about two women who bring a baby to the king, both claiming it’s her baby. The king tells the women that since he can’t tell whose baby it is, he’ll have it cut in half and each woman may have half of the baby. The mother who spoke up and said, “no, don’t cut him in half. Give him to her” was the woman the king decided must be the baby’s mother. I did something similar with Sarah and Caleb when they were fighting over who would get to play with “baby Anna”. Before the words were even out of my mouth Sarah said, “I’ll take the top half”, but Caleb protested with a concerned look on his face, “No! It’s hurt her!” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He’s like the walking New Testament! He is patient and kind. He isn’t jealous, doesn’t brag and is not arrogant. He does not act unbecomingly, does not seek his own, isn’t easily provoked, doesn’t take into account a wrong suffered (and forgives nearly instantly!). He does not rejoice in unrighteousness (and if on rare occasion he does something he shouldn’t, he “tells” on himself immediately). My sweet little Caleb bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and (as Sarah Elizabeth is his sister) endures all things. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can’t imagine my life without my little guy, and he and his birth have brought so much healing into my life. I am so grateful for that in this Thanksgiving season. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What his name means-&lt;br /&gt;Caleb: Faithful, Bold&lt;br /&gt;Joshua: Jehovah saves&lt;br /&gt;Amen, and amen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://whereicomefrom.webs.com/vbac.htm"&gt;Caleb's birth story&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/otm_site/view_shared?p=2a2bb8fe18cac680275caa&amp;amp;skin_id=701&amp;amp;utm_source=otm&amp;amp;utm_medium=image"&gt;Caleb's birth video&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;This post is lovingly, &lt;em&gt;gratefully&lt;/em&gt; dedicated to Vicki Taylor, L.M., C.P.M., without whom I would still be that scared little girl sitting in a corner crying over her scar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3015225889444676412?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3015225889444676412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-baby-boy-is-3.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3015225889444676412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3015225889444676412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-baby-boy-is-3.html' title='My baby boy is 3!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SwvLPHylsuI/AAAAAAAAATs/B-eXBydee7o/s72-c/caleb+then+and+now.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6688583180281537142</id><published>2009-10-22T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You are not alone</title><content type='html'>I received a message this afternoon that read, in part, &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I thought I was alone. I thought I wasn't supposed to feel this way&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, mama, you're not alone. Your body wasn't made to birth from the abdomen. It wasn't made to be cut. Cry, rage, hurt, &lt;em&gt;grieve! &lt;/em&gt;Something precious and irreplaceable was stolen from you and you have every right to feel "this way". The scar you can't see takes much longer to heal than the one you can see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6688583180281537142?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6688583180281537142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-are-not-alone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6688583180281537142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6688583180281537142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-are-not-alone.html' title='You are not alone'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-803049976501752444</id><published>2009-09-26T04:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whew!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anna will be three months old on Monday. Wow! Where has the time gone? Where has my "baby" gone? I have to say that while I absolutely &lt;em&gt;adore&lt;/em&gt; having a "normal" size baby, it sure does seem they grow up faster. At this point, Anna is as big as Sarah and Caleb were at 6 or 7 months old. She's so &lt;em&gt;active&lt;/em&gt;! Last night I had a dream that she walked at 5 months old. Let's just hope that dream doesn't come to pass. Sarah walked at 9 months and Caleb walked at 16 months. With two other children in the house I think I'd rather she took Caleb's path!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's also teething now, and exhibiting teething "behavior" that neither Sarah nor Caleb did. She's drooling &lt;em&gt;buckets&lt;/em&gt; and chewing on her hands. She'll even quit nursing, pull off the nipple, and put her fist in her mouth to chew on. Strange. I guess I'd rather she chew on her hand than my breast! Caleb got his first tooth at 7 months and Sarah was almost 13 months. I guess I was kind of hoping Anna would follow after her sister in teething!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can't believe what a breeze nursing has been for us. After two failed attempts, I thought something was wrong with me. But after Anna's amazingly quick, simple birth and not being high or hooked up to anything, it just seemed natural to nurse her. I pushed her out, she was handed to me, I put her to the breast and there she has stayed for the last three months!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like my other two at this age, she has become markedly more "organized" in the last week. I never set any kind of schedule for her, just let her nap and nurse as she saw fit, but she has set for herself a fairly predictable routine now. During the day she has three naps: early morning, mid morning and early afternoon and she nurses approximately every hour and a half. At night she sleeps cuddled up next to my breasts and nurses (I think) once or twice. Neither of us really wakes up for night nursing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some pictures I'd like to share with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr3-jNseSzI/AAAAAAAAAMU/c14aD3D97GQ/s1600-h/august2009+075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385740610330053426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr3-jNseSzI/AAAAAAAAAMU/c14aD3D97GQ/s320/august2009+075.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't she pretty? I call her my "strawberries and cream" baby. Her skin is so milky white and her hair a pretty shade of auburn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr3-iiR0eJI/AAAAAAAAAMM/03f4MW4GBhA/s1600-h/MARRIAGECONFERENCEsept2009+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385740598675536018" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr3-iiR0eJI/AAAAAAAAAMM/03f4MW4GBhA/s320/MARRIAGECONFERENCEsept2009+043.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna nursing at the butterfly garden. Just after this photo was taken, a butterfly landed right on Anna's head and stayed for several minutes. Beautiful!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36w0MjSII/AAAAAAAAAME/gk2pZ9y06eE/s1600-h/MARRIAGECONFERENCEsept2009+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385736445956933762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36w0MjSII/AAAAAAAAAME/gk2pZ9y06eE/s320/MARRIAGECONFERENCEsept2009+019.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family and me at a marriage conference recently&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36waKVJjI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ayYcPrnAEGg/s1600-h/MARRIAGECONFERENCEsept2009+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385736438968297010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36waKVJjI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ayYcPrnAEGg/s320/MARRIAGECONFERENCEsept2009+001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna nursing at the marriage conference&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36wDSB3NI/AAAAAAAAAL0/iAmcPLgAjtg/s1600-h/august2009013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385736432826571986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36wDSB3NI/AAAAAAAAAL0/iAmcPLgAjtg/s320/august2009013.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna and Sarah- sweet sisters!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36viSUejI/AAAAAAAAALs/S1rEUb3-KlY/s1600-h/august2009+078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385736423969421874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36viSUejI/AAAAAAAAALs/S1rEUb3-KlY/s320/august2009+078.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah and Anna- they're great friends already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36vVOxCEI/AAAAAAAAALk/DDfLyq0yTnk/s1600-h/august2009+039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385736420464855106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr36vVOxCEI/AAAAAAAAALk/DDfLyq0yTnk/s320/august2009+039.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anna and me at the children's museum&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-803049976501752444?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/803049976501752444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/09/whew.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/803049976501752444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/803049976501752444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/09/whew.html' title='Whew!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/Sr3-jNseSzI/AAAAAAAAAMU/c14aD3D97GQ/s72-c/august2009+075.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5888975117941246104</id><published>2009-08-16T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forecast: Partly Sunny</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So, today's the &lt;em&gt;big day&lt;/em&gt;! My husband came down to get the children and me and we're all going to be a family again in Georgia. I feel like I can finally exhale. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last Tuesday I had my six week postpartum visit with the midwife. It was really hard. Anna nursed through the whole exam and the midwife and I cried as we hugged and said goodbye. My body hardly bears any traces of a pregnancy now, and I weigh almost 40lbs less than when I first became pregnant. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, it looks like we're "getting out of Dodge" &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; in time! See this picture? Pensacola is right there inside that "circle of possibility" and the weather channel has just issued a tropical storm warning for Pensacola. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SofqKpu8qhI/AAAAAAAAALc/1ADzmc-YX3s/s1600-h/tropical+storm.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370518549384964626" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SofqKpu8qhI/AAAAAAAAALc/1ADzmc-YX3s/s320/tropical+storm.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;FYI: Yesterday Pensacola celebrated the 450&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; anniversary of the settlement of Pensacola (1559). It was, however, wiped from the map by a &lt;em&gt;hurricane.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5888975117941246104?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5888975117941246104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/08/forecast-partly-sunny.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5888975117941246104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5888975117941246104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/08/forecast-partly-sunny.html' title='Forecast: Partly Sunny'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SofqKpu8qhI/AAAAAAAAALc/1ADzmc-YX3s/s72-c/tropical+storm.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3679678641856493376</id><published>2009-08-10T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birth- days</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Monday's child is fair of face,&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday's child is full of grace,&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday's child is full of woe,&lt;br /&gt;Thursday's child has far to go,&lt;br /&gt;Friday's child is loving and giving,&lt;br /&gt;Saturday's child must work for a living,&lt;br /&gt;But the child that's born on the Sabbath day&lt;br /&gt;Is fair and wise and good and gay. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read this poem with a mind towards my children's births. My cesarean and failed home birth attempt were both on Wednesday nights. My first &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;unmedicated&lt;/span&gt;, incredible, birth was early Sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the children themselves, I wouldn't say that Sarah and Caleb are "full of woe", but Anna is most certainly "fair and wise and good and gay"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3679678641856493376?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3679678641856493376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/08/birth-days.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3679678641856493376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3679678641856493376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/08/birth-days.html' title='Birth- days'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-1211134589596917959</id><published>2009-08-05T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.888-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something old and something new</title><content type='html'>Dh's cousin made it! A healthy 7lb, 5 oz little boy born after 19 hours of (induced) labor. Baby is great and mommy is very pleased with the birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here's my Anna first thing this morning. She's smiling so much now I just had to get it on "film".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed height="382" name="FLVPlayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="408" src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=" quality="high" scale="noscale" wmode="transparent" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;amp;p=9478c2538dfb3784e7aa5e&amp;amp;skin_id=701&amp;amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; PADDING-BOTTOM: 15px; MARGIN: 0px; WIDTH: 408px; FONT: 12px/20px verdana, arial, sans-serif"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=9478c2538dfb3784e7aa5e&amp;amp;skin_id=701&amp;amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/9478c2538dfb3784e7aa5e/701.gif" width="408" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;amp;utm_medium=txt1" target="_blank"&gt;Make an on-line slide show at &lt;span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-1211134589596917959?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/1211134589596917959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/08/something-old-and-something-new.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1211134589596917959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1211134589596917959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/08/something-old-and-something-new.html' title='Something old and something new'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8730602851021972184</id><published>2009-07-31T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'>U-G-H!</title><content type='html'>Oh boy, here we go again! Why is it that whenever I give birth, one of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dh's&lt;/span&gt; cousins has a section 4-5 weeks later??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cousin went to her 39 or 40 week appointment today and the doctor told her that her water had broken two days ago (&lt;em&gt;how&lt;/em&gt; he knew exactly when it broke is beyond me). So, of course, she was sent directly to the hospital to be induced. A few problems I see with this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Her baby is obviously not ready to be born yet. She's just 40 weeks and is not having contractions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. She looks like she's having a 9+ lb baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. It's her first baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure hope I'm wrong, but it looks like she's headed on a trip down Cesarean Lane. Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8730602851021972184?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8730602851021972184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/u-g-h.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8730602851021972184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8730602851021972184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/u-g-h.html' title='U-G-H!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-1774436877844254732</id><published>2009-07-19T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.915-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hyperemesis Poem</title><content type='html'>I’m getting it out I’m getting it out&lt;br /&gt;Rage, scream, cry, tear, punch, shout&lt;br /&gt;I need you to see&lt;br /&gt;Oh, just need you to see&lt;br /&gt;This isn’t the way it was supposed to be&lt;br /&gt;the way—&lt;br /&gt;I wanted&lt;br /&gt;it&lt;br /&gt;to be&lt;br /&gt;The howls, my bowels the vomit and pain&lt;br /&gt;My face in the toilet again and again&lt;br /&gt;Food in and food out and when it was through&lt;br /&gt;Up came my insides, and—&lt;br /&gt;nobody knew&lt;br /&gt;Locked in my house, crushed on the floor&lt;br /&gt;Still up, up it came more—more!&lt;br /&gt;Why didn’t they come&lt;br /&gt;there was no rescue&lt;br /&gt;there was just me and the floor and the bile&lt;br /&gt;and yet you&lt;br /&gt;did nothing&lt;br /&gt;my misery, my torture I—&lt;br /&gt;broken, weak helpless&lt;br /&gt;No one could have cared—&lt;br /&gt;less&lt;br /&gt;And then they cut me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-1774436877844254732?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/1774436877844254732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/hyperemesis-poem.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1774436877844254732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1774436877844254732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/hyperemesis-poem.html' title='Hyperemesis Poem'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-205718969574450769</id><published>2009-07-19T16:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Consider the Lilies: The Birth of Anna Lily Part 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Consider the lilies how they grow : they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Luke 12:27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I got in her car &lt;em&gt;my sister &lt;/em&gt;began to time my contractions. When I was quiet for a moment and she'd ask, "are you having a contraction?" "yes", I'd say. "well that one was only 3 minutes after the last one." Again, she'd say, "are you having a contraction?" "yes," I'd say. "well, &lt;em&gt;that one&lt;/em&gt; was only 2 minutes after the last one!" Even though I was sitting there perfectly calm and happy, I think she was very worried I was going to give birth in her car. [Later, our grandmother would tell her, "well that's what you get for picking up a 9 month pregnant woman on the side of the road in the middle of the night"] Though I'd brought my bag with me, "just in case", I decided to leave it in the car because "I don't think I'll be staying" (which became my mantra until I was pushing). We entered through the ER and when the lady at the desk asked how she could help us I stood there, calmly, and stuttered, "um, well, I'm pregnant and I... I'm having contractions, but I wanted to know if I was maybe in labor. You know I. . . just wanted to, uh, see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got up to labor and delivery, the nurse showed me to an L&amp;amp;D room instead of the triage room. It hadn't dawned on me until I was in the bathroom changing my clothes that I was &lt;em&gt;in a labor room&lt;/em&gt;. I called out to my sister, "I wish they hadn't put me here just to be checked. I'll be going home and then they'll have to fix the room back up!" It took me about twenty minutes to change my clothes in the bathroom because I kept having what I was still calling "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;braxton&lt;/span&gt; hicks contractions". The nurse checked me while my sister and I were chatting. I said to her, "well, if I'm not at least 4 or 5 cm then I think I'll just go home." The nurse looked at me with big eyes and my sister finally thought to ask, "how far along is she?" "7cm!" the nurse yelled as she headed out of the door. Apparently there's a lot to be done to prepare for a baby to be born in the hospital and I hadn't been polite enough to give much advance warning :) My sister and I got on the phone and called everyone who was planning to be there, including my poor husband who had to wake from a deep sleep, pack up 4 year old and 2 year old, drop 2 year old off with my mother-in-law and get himself and 4 year old down the hospital before I gave birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse and the midwife, and my sister (who had given birth the summer before) were all standing around me, amazed that I seemed to be in little or no pain (just "discomfort") during what looked on the monitor to be very strong contractions. The nurse said to me, "The nurses at the desk asked about you and I told them I thought you were &lt;em&gt;probably&lt;/em&gt; in labor, but that you couldn't be very far along. I sure was wrong!" About this time I thought to ask my nurse her name and when she replied "Faith", I was sure the Lord was with us that night. My midwife was going to examine me, but said she'd wait until my husband arrived because baby's head was right there, and she was afraid my water would break and baby would "fall out".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally everyone arrived and the midwife checked me and said, "you're 9cm. do you want me to break your water?" I didn't really know what to say, still not feeling like I was in labor &lt;em&gt;[how's that for denial? I'm told I'm 9cm dilated and I still convince myself I might be going home!]&lt;/em&gt; and sure I'd be sent home any minute. "I'm not sure. What would we do then?" "Have a baby," the midwife laughed. So, I was still sitting up in bed feeling absolutely wonderful and I answered, "sure!" &lt;strong&gt;Big mistake&lt;/strong&gt; :) She broke my water and I practically LAUNCHED myself out of bed, draping myself over the birth ball that I ordered be put on the bed, and began bellowing and rocking through constant, intense contractions. (note to self: allow baby to be born "in the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;caul&lt;/span&gt;" next time if necessary. Laboring after your water has broken SUCKS!) After awhile that didn't feel good anymore so I threw the ball off the bed and climbed up and got on my hands and knees, with my head resting on the head of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I was there very long before I had a contraction and it felt like a freight train was going through my body and I let out a kind of involuntary roar (something like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;oooohhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;AAAAAAAHHHHH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;AAARRRGGHH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;!) and my body began to push. I heard the nurse tell the midwife, "she's pushing", and I remember thinking that was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; wasn't pushing, my body had taken over this show and I was just barely hanging on for the ride! Here's another place the Lord was really working in this birth. I was scared of pushing, and so He allowed me not only to not be directed in "purple pushing", but I don't think &lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;pushed a single time. My body did everything itself. So the midwife told me not to push, she needed to check me. I tried not to push, but &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;don't think&lt;/span&gt; I ever succeeded. She told me several times not to push, "Don't push, Becky. I'm not going to let you tear" (I had a 2&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; degree tear last time so that was a fear of mine). I tried to pant, blow, nothing worked. I'm pretty sure at one point I was even begging "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;oooooze&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;oooooze&lt;/span&gt;!" at the top of my lungs.The midwife calmly (and I think she sounded a bit amused, too) asked, "so, are we delivering on hands and knees?" I was incapable of making any decision now and I just kept saying, "I don't know... I don't know..." So she just got ready for Anna to come and I stayed on my hands and knees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole time I was pushing ("whole time") I was thinking to myself, "I wonder if it's too late to get an epidural?" It was sort of a scary experience for me- pushing. I think that's the main reason I felt &lt;em&gt;pain&lt;/em&gt; when pushing, unlike with the "non pushing" contractions. Do I regret feeling that pain though? Absolutely not, and I'm even thankful for it. Though I was scared, I wasn't terrified. Though I felt pain, I wasn't &lt;em&gt;suffering&lt;/em&gt;. I felt strong through that pain, as if my pushing "noises" were roaring sounds. I was listening to, and working with, my body and I felt the Lord's hand on Anna and me. The best way I can describe it is that it felt as if I was being pulled out in a massive undertow, drowning, but knowing all along that I was going to be saved. There existed in my mind both intense panic but constant peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she was born I didn't immediately turn around to face everyone. I rested my head on the head of the bed and asked if they were sure she was a girl (I'd felt she was, and the ultrasound said she was, but I had an eager 4year old daughter in the room who was expecting to have a &lt;em&gt;sister&lt;/em&gt; and I wanted to make sure I'd "delivered", as it were). Then I said I wanted to turn around. The placenta hadn't been delivered yet and her cord was still attached and pulsing, so the midwife handed Anna to John and she helped me maneuver my legs around the cord and turn to face my beautiful Anna. I'll admit that the first thing I thought to myself as I looked her over was, "oh no. I hope she's at least six pounds!" She didn't look very big, but was just 3oz shy of 8lbs, praise the Lord! I'd finally grown a normal size baby! Everyone in the room was shocked when her weight was read. Everyone knows that Becky has &lt;em&gt;small&lt;/em&gt; babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took about 20 minutes before I was ready to deliver the placenta. That was very uncomfortable. The midwife didn't pull on the cord, even a little. She just waited until my body began pushing again. It felt really strange, and I had a small hemorrhage. I heard the nurse whisper to the midwife, asking her if she should give me a shot of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pitocin&lt;/span&gt;. The midwife said she didn't think it was too bad, but had the nurse apply some pretty "firm" (ha!) &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fundal&lt;/span&gt; pressure and I brought Anna to the breast to begin nursing. I also called my husband over to say a small prayer. After the bleeding had mostly stopped I was helped out of bed to change clothes. I was very dizzy, short of breath, and couldn't even catch my breath well enough to speak. That passed quickly, though, and the next morning I was offered a discharge just over 24 hours after Anna was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 4:49a.m. (just an hour and a half after entering the hospital) Anna Lily was born, weighing almost 8lbs and I didn't tear. I pushed for only about 4 minutes. I pushed and delivered on my hands and knees, with no medication, and not even an iv. I think it's about the best hospital birth I could have hoped for and it was an amazing experience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also happy to report that Anna began nursing in the delivery room and has hardly stopped since!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Consider the lilies how they grow : they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Luke 12:27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-205718969574450769?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/205718969574450769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/consider-lilies-birth-of-anna-lily-part.html#comment-form' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/205718969574450769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/205718969574450769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/consider-lilies-birth-of-anna-lily-part.html' title='Consider the Lilies: The Birth of Anna Lily Part 3'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-428260408195026899</id><published>2009-07-18T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Consider the Lilies: The Birth of Anna Lily Part Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Consider the lilies how they grow : they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Luke 12:27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very difficult living without my husband all those months. I was very ill, suffering from &lt;a href="http://www.helpher.org/"&gt;hyperemesis gravidarum&lt;/a&gt; for the second time in my life. At my lowest point I was hospitalized for a week, having lost 25 lbs at 13 weeks. In the hospital I was given three very strong nausea medications in my iv, and when I was discharged I was given a prescription for one of them, Zofran, which is a drug commonly given to chemotherapy patients to help combat their nausea. My husband and I were uncomfortable with me taking the medicine though. We knew it couldn't be good for baby Anna and we wanted to just trust the Lord to allow me not to need it. We prayed, and less than a week after leaving the hospital I was able to make it through the day, keeping food and water down without the medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I was a VBAC mother, I was required by the practice to have a consultation with one of their obstetricians. The premise of this "consultation" is for the obstetrician to make sure I understand the risks and benefits of both a VBAC and an elective repeat cesarean. It really was a joke though. He only discussed the &lt;em&gt;risks of a VBAC&lt;/em&gt; and the &lt;em&gt;benefits of the elective repeat cesarean&lt;/em&gt;. Then, he said to me, "well, we can try a VBAC &lt;em&gt;if you really want to&lt;/em&gt;, but you only have a 50% chance of it being successful." I reminded him that I'd already had a successful VBAC, and my husband told him we were Christians and that we were trusting the Lord for a safe VBAC. After that the doctor didn't have much to say. He signed my consultation form and left the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[&lt;em&gt;Now, since we're almost to Anna's birth, I want to share with you everything we'd prayed for the birth. I have a history of small for gestational age babies. My first was 3lbs 10oz at 37 weeks and my second was 5lbs 2oz at 41 weeks. It seemed I just couldn't grow a "normal size" baby. We prayed that Anna would be a good, normal, healthy weight at birth. I struggled with having faith in this throughout my pregnancy. It didn't help when people would tell me that I didn't even look pregnant, or that I "looked so good" (when what they meant was I looked so small). "Where's the baby", people would ask. With each of those comments my faith was weakened a little bit more. I was thankful to have my husband's faith to carry me. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Since Caleb's birth was so long and exhausting, we prayed for a quick, easy birth with Anna. My husband even said he didn't mind if it was so fast we didn't have time to get to the hospital first. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We prayed for a painless labor. We'd read the book &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.terrymizeministries.org/cgi-bin/gx.cgi/AppLogic+FTContentServer?GXHC_gx_session_id_FutureTenseContentServer=322454eac08aca2b&amp;amp;pagename=FaithHighway/10000/1000/319/sncb"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Supernatural Childbirth&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; and we knew that with the Lord, all things are possible. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I had a painful second degree tear when Caleb was born (all 5lbs of him). We prayed that I wouldn't have any tearing with Anna. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I also have a history of "failed" breastfeeding attempts. We prayed that baby Anna and I would have no trouble breastfeeding, right from the start. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then there was my birth plan. I didn't want an iv or an epidural. I wanted to be up and moving. I wanted to be free to push on my hands and knees. I didn't want to be guided in "purple pushing" (I wanted to push when I felt the urge, for as long as I felt I needed to). I didn't want Anna's cord cut until it stopped pulsing. I wanted to hold her for awhile before she was taken from me to be weighed and measured. I had this list written out, but never talked with the midwife about it. I was afraid she wouldn't be agreeable, and I just wasn't up for the "fight". Thankfully, the Lord was!]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, June 27th I felt the need to get my hair cut. It had grown very long and I don't like to have long hair and a baby at the same time. My husband, the children and I went to his friend's hair salon for my haircut. We stayed and visited for awhile, then decided to visit some other friends who lived in the area. There, I was served a wonderful meal of fresh, homegrown tomatoes with salt and steamed, homegrown squash and onions. I didn't know it at the time, but this would be my last "meal" before Anna was born. We were very late getting home. I think it was 11 o'clock. My husband put the children to bed and then he went to bed. I tried lying down for awhile, but I was having contractions that were uncomfortable if I was lying down, but I could hardly notice them if I was sitting up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, 4 days past Anna Lily's due date, I was up at 2 am chatting on facebook with one of my sisters. I had been timing what seemed to me like "braxton hicks" contractions (have you tried contractionmaster.com? it's great!) and just mentioned to my sister that they seemed to average at about 4 minutes apart, but I wasn't sure. "They just don't hurt", I told my sister. Since my husband and the kids and I didn't get in until late that night and I felt bad about dragging them all down to the hospital for a false alarm, so my sister offered to drive me down to Baptist "just to get checked." I told her I wanted to take a bath first, and shave my legs. What I had hoped would be a nice, relaxing bath that would, of course, help these "braxton hicks contractions" subside, turned into a fiasco. Sitting in the tub, I couldn't reach my legs that well to shave them. I did the best I could, shaving almost to my knees, and then determined to lie back and soak for awhile. Nope. Then I see a huge palmetto bug crawling on the shower tile. Ordinarily I'm scared to death of these flying monsters, but I was &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; going to let a &lt;em&gt;bug&lt;/em&gt; ruin my relaxing bath. Or, was I? I got a large envelope and a clear cup from the kitchen and chased that awful bug all around the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did catch him. I put the cup and the envelope down and got dressed. I decided to take my bag with me, but I was sure I wouldn't need it. "I'm not going to stay", I'd convinced myself. I had my sister pick me up on the street with her headlights off because I didn't want to wake my husband or the children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2009/07/consider-lilies-birth-of-anna-lily-part_19.html"&gt;click here for part three&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-428260408195026899?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/428260408195026899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/consider-lilies-birth-of-anna-lily-part_18.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/428260408195026899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/428260408195026899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/consider-lilies-birth-of-anna-lily-part_18.html' title='Consider the Lilies: The Birth of Anna Lily Part Two'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5775218676528932113</id><published>2009-07-17T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:01.977-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Consider the Lilies: The Birth of Anna Lily Part One</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Consider the Lilies: The Birth of Anna Lily&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Consider the lilies how they grow : they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Luke 12:27&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, where to begin! As with my other two birth stories, I feel they really "began" at the beginning of the pregnancy. However, I feel that Anna's story may begin much earlier- before she was even conceived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've read &lt;a href="http://whereicomefrom.webs.com/vbac.htm"&gt;Caleb's birth story&lt;/a&gt;, then you know his birth was a "failed" homebirth attempt with a transfer to the hospital, but a successful (if not ideal) VBAC. Though I had given birth to him, pushed him into this world with my own strength, I felt that his birth resembled too closely my c-section. I couldn't feel him emerge from my body (epidural), he was "clean" and tightly wrapped by the time I got to hold him, I was drugged and hooked up to all sorts of machines, and had a significant number of stitches (from a nasty second degree tear).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I was simply elated to have had a VBAC. However, as I began to recover and the realities of Caleb's birth set in, I began to feel restless. I felt "cheated", somehow, and desperately wanted a do-over. Instead of seeking the Lord's timing for the birth of a new baby, I sought my own timing and conceived a child just four months after giving birth. How wonderful, I thought, to be given another child so soon! This new baby, we called him "baby Mac", was not meant to stay with us though. I lost baby Mac 8 weeks into my pregnancy, just a few days before Mother's Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took my body a long time to recover from losing the baby. It took my heart even longer. The way things were, I didn't think I was able to conceive children anymore. My husband and I decided that our family was probably complete and we quit trying to conceive by our own "works". The Lord had His own plans though, and Miss Anna came into our lives quite unexpectedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly before I became pregnant with Anna, my husband and I moved from Florida to Georgia. When I discovered our wonderful surprise baby I began looking into my birth options in the area. Sadly (and shamefully)I found that to have a homebirth with a midwife I'd have to do it "illegally", and none of the midwives I spoke with felt comfortable attending a birth with me. I also found that some of the hospitals had VBAC bans, most of the obstetricians in the area no longer attended VBACs, and those that would theoretically attend a VBAC only delivered at hospitals with VBAC bans. My "choices" (and what kind of choice is it, really, when it's forced upon you?)became to sign up for a repeat cesarean (even though I'd already HAD a VBAC!), enter into care with an OB and show up at the hospital and refuse a cesarean (who wants to fight when they're in labor?), or have an unassisted birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't like any of the choices, so my husband and I decided that the children and I would move back to Florida for the duration of the pregnancy and seek out our options there. We ended up deciding on a hospital birth with a Certified Nurse Midwife. I still wasn't comfortable with the idea of giving birth in the hospital. Afterall, if Caleb's birth had begun in the hospital I never would have had a VBAC. Hospitals just don't "do" the kind of labor I had with Caleb. My husband prayed with me throughout my pregnancy, though, that the Lord would protect me through the labor and birth. We even read a book that was recommend to us about painless childbirth, and so we were trusting the Lord for that as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2009/07/consider-lilies-birth-of-anna-lily-part_18.html"&gt;click here for part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5775218676528932113?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5775218676528932113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/consider-lilies-birth-of-anna-lily-part_17.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5775218676528932113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5775218676528932113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/consider-lilies-birth-of-anna-lily-part_17.html' title='Consider the Lilies: The Birth of Anna Lily Part One'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3866950380388736218</id><published>2009-07-12T05:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Weeks Already?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s236.photobucket.com/albums/ff104/vbacwarrior/?action=view&amp;current=Anna1025.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff104/vbacwarrior/Anna1025.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I can't believe it's been two weeks since I gave birth to Anna Lily. She's two weeks old already? I'm so proud that she hasn't had any formula in her (entire) life, no bottles or artificial nipples of any kind. That's a huge triumph for us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was also born too big for the newborn size diapers and too big for Sarah and Caleb's old preemie and newborn size clothing. That amazes my husband and me. Anna Lily is such a sweet little baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People ask me if she "fusses" a lot and I tell them I don't really know, because if she ever seems less than happy I just put her to the breast. Of course, everyone tells me I'm nursing her too much and that she's too dependant on me. &lt;em&gt;Really? A newborn who is dependent on its mother?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also makes nighttime parenting a breeze! She nurses around 10:30pm, then sleeps until sometime in the midnight hour, and then sleeps until sometime between 3-4 a.m. Neither of us wakes fully for her nighttime feeds and we sleep together, facing each other, so she can nurse while I lie down. How easy is that?? Thanks "baby Anna Lily"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3866950380388736218?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3866950380388736218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/two-weeks-already.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3866950380388736218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3866950380388736218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/two-weeks-already.html' title='Two Weeks Already?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-1167380787924467022</id><published>2009-07-01T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anna's picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SkuCcRTW-zI/AAAAAAAAAKw/QF7gB_TSchg/s1600-h/PICT1088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SkuCcRTW-zI/AAAAAAAAAKw/QF7gB_TSchg/s320/PICT1088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353516004252515122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna 24 hours old&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-1167380787924467022?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/1167380787924467022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/anna-picture.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1167380787924467022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1167380787924467022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/07/anna-picture.html' title='Anna&amp;#39;s picture'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SkuCcRTW-zI/AAAAAAAAAKw/QF7gB_TSchg/s72-c/PICT1088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2639023800749244646</id><published>2009-06-28T15:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anna Lily is here!</title><content type='html'>Hi everybody!! Yes, Anna Lily is here :) She was born at 4:49 a.m. this morning after a very short 1 hour 49 minute labor with 4 minutes of pushing. I finally had a completely unmedicated delivery. When I arrived at the hospital I didn't even think I was in labor, but when the nurse checked me I was already 7cm. Then there was a flurry of activity, with everyone rushing around getting ready for Anna. My 4yo daughter was present for the birth and was mildly unimpressed. She wanted to help "catch" Anna and they got her some small gloves so she could, but she changed her mind at the last minute and was content to just stand at the "business end" and watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna weighed nearly 8lbs. What a triumph and blessing! Remember my other children's birthweights? 3.10 and 5.2!   I pushed (roared, more like it) on my hands and knees. I had no idea that the so-called "urge to push" was actually a freight train running through your body that doesn't give you a CHOICE about whether or not to push. I was told several times not to push, which seemed at the time like the most absurd request  I'd ever heard. There was no stopping and starting. My body owned the process and I was just along for the ride.&lt;br /&gt;It truly was amazing! Labor didn't hurt, pushing was lots of pain. I really don't even feel like I've just had a baby. Oh, and she's an amazing little nursling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2639023800749244646?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2639023800749244646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/06/anna-lily-is-here.html#comment-form' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2639023800749244646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2639023800749244646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/06/anna-lily-is-here.html' title='Anna Lily is here!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-45899956746303688</id><published>2009-06-22T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A wild call and a clear call that may not be denied</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;I'm in labor! I don't know how long it will last. My last labor was a few days long, so please don't worry if you don't hear anything from me for a few days. For those of you following me on FaceBook, I'll try to update more frequently on there. Meanwhile, here is a poem I think describes labor and birth beautifully (even though it's not written about labor) and also a link to the song I've chosen for Anna's birth photo montage. 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&lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0in; 	mso-para-margin-right:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Sea Fever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,&lt;br /&gt;And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,&lt;br /&gt;And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,&lt;br /&gt;And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide&lt;br /&gt;Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;&lt;br /&gt;And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,&lt;br /&gt;And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,&lt;br /&gt;To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;&lt;br /&gt;And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover&lt;br /&gt;And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;John Masefield&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt; (1878-1967).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=""&gt; &lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br style=""&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Click &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xboucW89gUU"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; to hear Anna's song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-45899956746303688?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/45899956746303688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/06/wild-call-and-clear-call-that-may-not.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/45899956746303688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/45899956746303688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/06/wild-call-and-clear-call-that-may-not.html' title='A wild call and a clear call that may not be denied'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2040705803606272259</id><published>2009-06-07T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired. . . tired. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message"&gt;Can someone &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;"&gt;please&lt;/span&gt; explain to me why it's so EASY for a woman to have an abortion but so HARD for her to have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt;?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message"&gt;It's such a hard fight. It's even harder when you're so pregnant and tired. I'm just... tired. Is that their plan? Wear us down then cut us?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message"&gt; Some "land of the free". I think our "forefathers" would vomit.&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2040705803606272259?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2040705803606272259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/06/tired-tired.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2040705803606272259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2040705803606272259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/06/tired-tired.html' title='Tired. . . tired. . .'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3712751102498521707</id><published>2009-05-25T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.118-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MIA</title><content type='html'>Sorry I haven't been around. I'm nearly 36 weeks pregnant and I &lt;em&gt;feel&lt;/em&gt; like I'm 10,000 weeks pregnant! This week will be very busy. We're making our preparations for our temporary move to "baby Anna's" birth town. I have very little energy and a 4.5 year old and a 2.5 year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Has is really been that long since my c-section? Since my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt;? Wow. . . &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our birth plans are not perfect. Not ideal. I am, however, at peace with our decisions. That's all I could ask of any birth plan. The midwife rolled her eyes when I told her what the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; consult doctor told me about only having a 50% chance of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt;. She rolls her eyes at much of what the doctor's say and do. She told me that the pain I still have in my perineum from a 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; degree tear 2.5 years ago is probably because the doctor put in too many stitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I can muster right now. I'll be 37 weeks a week from Wednesday (June 3rd), but I have no illusions Anna will come then. Sarah was &lt;em&gt;taken&lt;/em&gt; at 37 weeks 1 day, but Caleb &lt;em&gt;was born&lt;/em&gt; at 41 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The woods are lovely&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;dark and deep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but I have promises to keep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and miles to go before I sleep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and miles to go before I sleep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3712751102498521707?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3712751102498521707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/05/mia.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3712751102498521707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3712751102498521707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/05/mia.html' title='MIA'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-233557233953404702</id><published>2009-04-29T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.131-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is going to get UGLY!</title><content type='html'>You'd better stand back because this is going to bet &lt;em&gt;ugly!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I had my dreaded "VBAC consultation" with an obstetrician. I wasn't looking forward to this meeting for several reasons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;It seems ridiculous to me to require a woman to have to sign a form stating that she would like to be "allowed" to use her vagina for one of its intended purposes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I knew that the consultation would center around the doctor looking over my birth history and then HE would decide if I was a good candidate for VBAC&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had a surgical birth for reasons not likely to recur&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've &lt;em&gt;ALREADY HAD a VBAC!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have already signed a form stating I understand the risks and benefits of VBAC and cesarean&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Overall, the consultation went just as I'd expected. The doctor first asked me if I was having a repeat cesarean or a VBAC (&lt;em&gt;obviously&lt;/em&gt; he didn't know I'm seeing the midwife, who is not a surgeon and cannot perform a c-section). Then, before he even examined my prior birth history, the doctor launched into a list of the &lt;em&gt;benefits&lt;/em&gt; of a planned repeat cesarean and the &lt;em&gt;risks&lt;/em&gt; of VBAC. Yes, it &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; a discussion of "risks vs benefits", but do you notice what's missing? There was absolutely NO discussion of the &lt;em&gt;risks of repeat cesarean &lt;/em&gt;or the &lt;em&gt;benefits of VBAC!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Finally the doctor looks over my birth history (because, don'tchaknow, a &lt;em&gt;doctor&lt;/em&gt; has to deem a woman a "good candidate" for a "trial of labor"), and he noticed my children's birth weights (3lbs 10oz at 37 weeks and 5lbs 2 oz at 41 weeks). Then, he dropped a bombshell:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Well, we can let you try a VBAC if you &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to, but I don't really see&lt;br /&gt;it happening. Your other children were so small and this baby is going to be a&lt;br /&gt;normal size. I give you a 50/50 chance. It's just not likely to happen."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000000;"&gt;WHAT?!?!?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;First of all&lt;/em&gt;, there is no "we". You're not even my care provider, doc! &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; am giving birth. M-E. Not &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;. Second, you don't "let me" do &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt;. You give me the information I need to make an informed decision and then you &lt;em&gt;stand back&lt;/em&gt; and let &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; decide. As far as "not really see[ing] it happening," &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;oh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; you have &lt;em&gt;no idea&lt;/em&gt; how I would &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;adore &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;dragging your butt out of bed and having you watch me push this baby out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;NOW, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHAT IN THE WORLD&lt;/strong&gt; do you mean I can't give birth to a "normal-sized" baby? I've heard of doctors giving mothers the "big baby card" and the "dead baby card". I have even been given the "&lt;em&gt;small&lt;/em&gt; baby card". &lt;em&gt;No wonder&lt;/em&gt; the cesarean rate in this country is skyrocketing! You just can't please these doctors!! "You can't birth this baby because she's too small" and "you can't birth this baby because she's just the right size". A nation of schizophrenic obstetricians... and women simply line up to be strapped down--&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;MADNESS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, &lt;em&gt;dear doctor&lt;/em&gt;, here is &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;my&lt;/strong&gt; "&lt;/em&gt;VBAC consent form":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had a cesarean for reasons not likely to recur.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had a low, transverse incision with an uncomplicated &lt;em&gt;physical&lt;/em&gt; recovery.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It has been 4.5 years since my cesarean.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have had a subsequent vaginal birth (VBAC).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I understand that, having had a successful vaginal birth, my risk for uterine rupture is less than 1%.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I understand that the risks of a repeat cesarean include: death, hemorrhage, blood clots, injury to bladder, bowel, uterus, injury to baby, excessive blood loss and hysterectomy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I declare myself an autonomous woman, of sound mind and body, and hereby state my decision to have a VBAC. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Signed,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;VBACwarrior&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-233557233953404702?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/233557233953404702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-going-to-get-ugly.html#comment-form' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/233557233953404702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/233557233953404702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-going-to-get-ugly.html' title='This is going to get UGLY!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4809562478619485913</id><published>2009-04-13T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.157-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intermission</title><content type='html'>I won't be around for the next two weeks. We're moving (well, sort of. I'll explain later) and I won't have internet access for awhile. Hey, when I come back I'll be 32 weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Rixa and Michele, I hope I don't "miss" your births, but I'm afraid I might :(  Happy birthing, mamas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4809562478619485913?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4809562478619485913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/intermission.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4809562478619485913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4809562478619485913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/intermission.html' title='Intermission'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5146029985243119432</id><published>2009-04-09T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Lizards</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.ican-online.org/"&gt;April is Cesarean Awareness month&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of talking about the shockingly high cesarean rates in the country, instead of bemoaning the multitude of risks that cesareans carry, instead of lauding the benefits of vaginal birth, I have decided to talk about my own personal contribution to "cesarean awareness".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In about ten weeks I will be giving birth to my third child, my second daughter. Though my first daughter didn't get the benefit of a vaginal birth, she has been blessed (and educated) by witnessing my labor with my second child and she will be present for my labor and birth with our new baby girl. We talk a lot about birth in our home. She has seen pictures and videos of women giving birth. She tries to "teach" her little brother about the birth process, and she has an amazing grasp of the process for a four-year-old. She knows that birth is hard and sometimes hurts but, she says, "so it catching lizards!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know how the "birth culture" in our home will affect my son's view of birth. My hope is that, should he marry a woman who grew up in the same "culture" as he did, he would be fully supportive of her trust in birth and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;approach&lt;/span&gt; it with the same trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have four sisters, as well, though I'm unsure what influence I've had on them. &lt;strong&gt;H&lt;/strong&gt; hated her cesarean so much that she's decided she doesn't want anymore children. &lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt; was so damaged by her cesarean (physically) that she probably &lt;em&gt;can't&lt;/em&gt; have anymore children. &lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt; gave birth, at age 15, to a 38 week stillborn baby and is scared to death of that repeating itself. No cause of death was ever found. That leaves &lt;strong&gt;B&lt;/strong&gt;, who will be 17 in June, as witness to all these traumatic births of her older sisters. Of all my sisters, it's &lt;strong&gt;B&lt;/strong&gt; I really want to be present for Anna's birth. She needs to see a normal, healthy, joyful birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are wonderful organizations, like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ICAN&lt;/span&gt;, working to change the birth culture in our country. There are many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bloggers&lt;/span&gt;; mothers, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OBs&lt;/span&gt;, midwives, childbirth educators, nurses. I love and admire the work they do and the difference they're making. However, it is &lt;em&gt;so hard&lt;/em&gt; to change fears and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;attitudes&lt;/span&gt; in grown, child-bearing women. The fears are deeply rooted. The misinformation already wrapped up tightly in their minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't we begin earlier? Give birth to a baby vaginally. Tell a two year old that a baby "comes out of mommy's vagina". Let your four year old tell you that birthing a baby is like catching lizards. Let a six year old witness birth. Let an eight year old hold your hand and kiss your face as you labor. Let a ten year old help catch a baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's bring our children up in a culture of trust and respect for birth and they will bring the birth machine down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5146029985243119432?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5146029985243119432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/catching-lizards.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5146029985243119432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5146029985243119432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/catching-lizards.html' title='Catching Lizards'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6673327033253551094</id><published>2009-04-03T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shucked</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This poem is part of my &lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2007/12/how-i-got-here.html"&gt;How I Got Here &lt;/a&gt;post on my sidebar, but I thought it deserved it's own "space" so now I'm giving it one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shucked&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To think of myself as an animal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Led to the slaughter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not really choosing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They stripped me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They shaved me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They shot me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Full of fear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'd be losing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the feeling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the feeling never goes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I heard 'oh you won't feel anything'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I couldn't move my toes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First the needle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then the knife&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And they say that it's all right&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They say I'll feel some tugging&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I don't, I just feel nothing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was screened from my body&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's bloody&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The baby, where's my baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's the baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Could be anybody's baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They take it away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm left on the table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to be happy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But right now I'm not able&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To see past the &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;blood &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;light&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;screen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Strapped to a table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The end of the dream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gutted and cold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In pain and alone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unable to speak, or to cry or&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To moan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the hate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the anger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the pain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will subside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After I've grieved&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After I've cried&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't have the nightmares&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or wake with such fright&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll think back and smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On that terrible night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My wonderful baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So tiny and pink&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At that moment all I could&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think of was &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;my pain and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;my fear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what about you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So cold and so scared&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So little, so new&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look in your eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I know what to do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll weep and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll mourn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I'll tuck it away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doesn't mean it's not there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I'll keep it at bay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now when I think about how&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My baby came into this world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I choose to think of myself as an oyster&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And my beautiful baby,the pearl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SdYrhkWUonI/AAAAAAAAAKo/yDgYibvUoV8/s1600-h/crystal+pearl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320487865477800562" style="WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SdYrhkWUonI/AAAAAAAAAKo/yDgYibvUoV8/s320/crystal+pearl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6673327033253551094?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6673327033253551094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/shucked.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6673327033253551094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6673327033253551094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/shucked.html' title='Shucked'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SdYrhkWUonI/AAAAAAAAAKo/yDgYibvUoV8/s72-c/crystal+pearl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4023942413051827449</id><published>2009-04-02T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Disney World, hiding a baby and all's well</title><content type='html'>What a wonderful vacation! First I'd like to thank Disney for having the foresight to put changing tables in men's restrooms. I found out very quickly that my aching (then) 27 week back couldn't handle heaving a hefty 2 year old up onto changing tables that are way too high for this short mama. My husband was so nice to take over diaper duty for almost the entire vacation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small (or not so small) complaint, though. Did you know those awesome 'baby care centers' in each park are sponsored by Nestle Good Start? Ugh! Maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LLL&lt;/span&gt; could look into sponsoring at least one of them? Would that offend anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;actual&lt;/span&gt; "belly pics" this morning, but here's a picture of Sarah, Caleb, a bear and me outside of Animal Kingdom. That's my 27 week 3 day belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SdS7eiU82kI/AAAAAAAAAKg/Wg4d2XiTKEs/s1600-h/015_15.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320083193116547650" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SdS7eiU82kI/AAAAAAAAAKg/Wg4d2XiTKEs/s320/015_15.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my 28 week appointment yesterday. Guess what? Anna and I are completely healthy! Surprising, huh? I think it shocks people these days when a pregnant woman doesn't have anything "wrong" with her. That's so sad! Blood pressure is low, urine is clear, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fundal&lt;/span&gt; height is 28cm. Anna is very active and strong, much more so than my other two babies were. I didn't ask about her position, but I know she's vertex because I can feel her little bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confession time. Before a few weeks ago, I always thought pregnant women were babies when they complained of common pregnancy discomforts like heart burn, aching 'sagging' belly, sore feet, pain in the back, etc. Well, add me to the pregnant 'baby' club! I don't know if it's because this is my third pregnancy or because I finally have a "normal" size baby, but I'm &lt;em&gt;feeling&lt;/em&gt; pregnant and I'm grumpy about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4023942413051827449?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4023942413051827449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/disney-world-hiding-baby-and-all-well.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4023942413051827449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4023942413051827449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/04/disney-world-hiding-baby-and-all-well.html' title='Disney World, hiding a baby and all&amp;#39;s well'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SdS7eiU82kI/AAAAAAAAAKg/Wg4d2XiTKEs/s72-c/015_15.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2096513325952794139</id><published>2009-03-31T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.238-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Four year old urges:  "choose the better way"</title><content type='html'>Last week we took a family (2 year old, 4 year old, 27 week pregnant me and out-of-his-mind-to attempt-this husband) trip down to Disney World. It was an amazing trip, full of moments I'll never forget. I'm sure my feet will never forgive me, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One afternoon when Sarah and I were in a bathroom stall she saw my scar and asked if it still hurt. I told her that no, it doesn't hurt anymore. She asked if it hurt when the doctor cut me and I said it didn't because she gave me some "numbing medicine" first, but that when the medicine wore off it hurt a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought about that for a moment and then asked, "which way hurt less: the way I was born or the way Kay-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wub&lt;/span&gt; (Caleb) was born?" I told her that when she was born it didn't hurt at all because I was numb, but that later it hurt really bad, and when Caleb was born it hurt, but that as soon as he was out all of the pain went away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was quiet until after we both washed our hands and then she looked at me and said, "well, I think you should have baby Anna the better way, like Kay-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wub&lt;/span&gt;. It hurts less." I laughed and told her I agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2096513325952794139?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2096513325952794139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/four-year-old-urges-better-way.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2096513325952794139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2096513325952794139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/four-year-old-urges-better-way.html' title='Four year old urges:  &amp;quot;choose the better way&amp;quot;'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-174595859374279683</id><published>2009-03-08T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.255-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Belly Picture!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finally have my digital camera so I was able to take some pictures last night. Yes, there &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; a baby in there and she's quite healthy. I just hide her well!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;24 weeks 3 days&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SbPb8yxrz-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/yOj8st-byIc/s1600-h/preggo1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310830223068745698" style="WIDTH: 106px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SbPb8yxrz-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/yOj8st-byIc/s320/preggo1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SbPb9GlvVII/AAAAAAAAAKY/GyFYLQ24D68/s1600-h/preggo3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310830228387353730" style="WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SbPb9GlvVII/AAAAAAAAAKY/GyFYLQ24D68/s320/preggo3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-174595859374279683?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/174595859374279683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/belly-picture.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/174595859374279683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/174595859374279683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/belly-picture.html' title='Belly Picture!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SbPb8yxrz-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/yOj8st-byIc/s72-c/preggo1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7830995581885630923</id><published>2009-03-07T08:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breastfeeding Book Giveaway!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://womantowomancbe.wordpress.com/2009/03/06/100000-hits-party-and-giveaway/"&gt;Woman to Woman &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CBE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; is having a giveaway celebrating 100,000 hits to her blog! The book she's offering is a wonderful new breastfeeding book called &lt;a href="http://www.thebreastfeedingbook.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Breastfeeding with Comfort and Joy: A Photographic Guide for Mom and Those Who Help Her&lt;/a&gt;, by Laura &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;. Please visit these sites, enter for the giveaway and read more about the book! Good luck everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7830995581885630923?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7830995581885630923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/breastfeeding-book-giveaway.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7830995581885630923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7830995581885630923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/breastfeeding-book-giveaway.html' title='Breastfeeding Book Giveaway!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-1933908602797258376</id><published>2009-03-06T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.281-08:00</updated><title type='text'>INFURIATED! ! ! ! !</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SbFQDqxiBDI/AAAAAAAAAKI/F6ZRfAUTF-o/s1600-h/3d-mad.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310113459598394418" style="WIDTH: 58px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 54px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SbFQDqxiBDI/AAAAAAAAAKI/F6ZRfAUTF-o/s400/3d-mad.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you know, two (two?!) of my sisters had c-sections last summer. &lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-then-there-were-three.html"&gt;Sister A&lt;/a&gt; has never been "okay" with her section and now, unfortunately, she's dealing with even more complications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two months after her section her cycles returned, along with a familiar, though worse, pain. Her periods were always painful before she got pregnant due to severe endometriosis. So, at 2 months postpartum she just assumed that was the pain she was feeling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, two nights ago she woke to severe pain from her navel to her mid-thigh and went to the emergency room. They did a vaginal ultrasound and thought initially that she had 'pregnancies' both in her fallopian tube and &lt;em&gt;also&lt;/em&gt; on the outside of her uterus. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thankfully, after a more thorough evaluation, it was found that it wasn't a pregnancy (or pregnancies) at all. That's the good news. The bad news is that apparently she's had an infection &lt;em&gt;in her uterus&lt;/em&gt; for the last five months. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyone care to guess how a healthy 22 year old woman gets a rampant infection in her uterus? A c-section?! &lt;em&gt;No!&lt;/em&gt; But they're SO SAFE! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The doctor gave her a two week prescription for two strong antibiotics, but he wasn't very optimistic about her chances at avoiding having her uterus opened up again. Can you believe that? She's basically going to have to have ANOTHER c-section! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, &lt;em&gt;but there's more.&lt;/em&gt; The doctor also said that there is a chance she may lose her uterus if the infection can't be controlled with antibiotics and surgery. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A 22 year old losing her uterus due to cesarean complications. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;But they're so safe. So, so safe. . .&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-1933908602797258376?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/1933908602797258376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/infuriated.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1933908602797258376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1933908602797258376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/infuriated.html' title='INFURIATED! ! ! ! !'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SbFQDqxiBDI/AAAAAAAAAKI/F6ZRfAUTF-o/s72-c/3d-mad.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2038128974678225758</id><published>2009-03-04T18:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When you cut me</title><content type='html'>When You Cut Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. I understand—it’s your job&lt;br /&gt;but it’s not my job&lt;br /&gt; it’s my &lt;em&gt;life&lt;/em&gt;, my baby, my body!&lt;br /&gt;you went home that night to a warm home, a soft bed&lt;br /&gt;and I was left on my back&lt;br /&gt;in a cold room&lt;br /&gt;with a hole in my soul abdomen&lt;br /&gt;I’m not complaining about the job you did—&lt;br /&gt;with your “cut rate” I believe you must be an expert now—&lt;br /&gt;I’m complaining that you did the job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that when you cut me, I bled?&lt;br /&gt;you cut a hole in my body and put your&lt;br /&gt;hands inside&lt;br /&gt;you didn’t ask may I move your bladder&lt;br /&gt;may I touch your ovaries&lt;br /&gt;may I take your baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you took my baby&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;You were the first woman to touch her&lt;br /&gt;she was my first child and your bloody latex hands&lt;br /&gt;were the first thing she felt&lt;br /&gt;instead of me pushing, you pulled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you cut me&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; anything!&lt;br /&gt;I was just strapped to a table&lt;br /&gt;a tube in my nose&lt;br /&gt;my arm&lt;br /&gt;my back&lt;br /&gt;my—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then you just walked into the room&lt;br /&gt;hidden behind your puke green screen&lt;br /&gt;chatting with your colleagues&lt;br /&gt;touching my body&lt;br /&gt;cutting my skin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I was right there&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;but you didn’t&lt;br /&gt;see me&lt;br /&gt;think about me&lt;br /&gt;know me&lt;br /&gt;did you ask if I was scared?&lt;br /&gt;was I okay?&lt;br /&gt;did I have any questions?&lt;br /&gt;did I want to know what was happening?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know.&lt;br /&gt;I understand.&lt;br /&gt;It’s your job.&lt;br /&gt;When you cut me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2038128974678225758?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2038128974678225758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-you-cut-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2038128974678225758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2038128974678225758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-you-cut-me.html' title='When you cut me'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3226062371981376879</id><published>2009-03-04T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>President (Elect) of ACNM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.stinalisa.com/hands_clapping_lg_clr.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 169px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 169px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.stinalisa.com/hands_clapping_lg_clr.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stinalisa.com/hands_clapping_lg_clr.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.midwife.org/2009_Elections.cfm#Holly"&gt;Holly Powell Kennedy, CNM, PhD, FACNM, FAAN&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Candidate Statement Related to Office&lt;/strong&gt;:I am a midwife passionately committed to the profession and the women it serves. If chosen as ACNM President (Elect) I will use my passion and leadership to place midwifery as a forerunner of women’s health care. Early in my career I discovered change comes from solution-based action – and to effect change I had to work “with” people to achieve collective agreement about the road forward. This has shaped my collaboration with all stakeholders in clinical practice, teaching, research, and leadership. The philosophy has served me as a midwife, family nurse practitioner, educator, scientist/researcher, military officer, policymaker/administrator, and leader. It has helped me be successful in numerous settings – tertiary, community, and military hospitals, health maintenance organizations, urban and rural heath centers, professional organizations, and US/European academic institutions. This breadth of experience has given me an exceptional skill set to work with people from diverse backgrounds, but who hold common goals with midwifery – the health of women and their families.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;My career has heightened my awareness of the importance of local grassroots activism to assure legal mandates to support the profession and women’s health. Membership on local, national, and international committees and the RI Board of Midwifery has helped me understand the daunting obstacles midwives face. My commitment to local advocacy for midwifery and women’s health was recognized by the ACNM Regional Award of Excellence – an honor I hold dear because it came from my colleagues in the trenches with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;One of my most important professional contributions is my research, which articulates and links the work of midwives to healthcare outcomes. As Chair of the ACNM Division of Research I helped forge a partnership with MANA to establish scientific evidence supportive of our work. As a 2008 Fulbright Distinguished Scholar I conducted research on England’s national commitment to normal birth. Those powerful lessons will be instrumental in my future leadership, teaching, practice, and research to address the challenges we face in the US.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;As President (Elect) of the ACNM I will work on our proposed “Future Focus” goals with the ACNM Board and ask each ACNM member to join me in that effort: (a) create strategic communication detailing the value of midwifery care in the US and globally – we must systematically reverse the US culture of fear and ignorance to build public and political support of midwifery; (b) attend 20% of all births by 2020 – visibility through birth attendance is key to professional and economic survival; (c) full autonomy for CNMs/CMs in practice and equitable reimbursement – we must work together on local and national levels to change policy and laws; (d) 1000 new CNMs/CMs annually – every one of us must commit to our students. None of the goals are possible without a critical mass of midwives. The road forward requires political and personal savvy, enlistment of expertise and resources, and leadership. I believe I am prepared for the challenges I will face and through the spirit of cooperation we will have the momentum to assure women’s right to health care excellence led by midwives. I am honored to be a candidate for President (Elect) of the ACNM. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; is "change we can believe in"!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3226062371981376879?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3226062371981376879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/president-elect-of-acnm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3226062371981376879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3226062371981376879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/president-elect-of-acnm.html' title='President (Elect) of ACNM'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8071251950115263515</id><published>2009-03-03T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That One</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;On my first day of high school, my chorus teacher sat down in front of us and read us a story. It was a story, I forget the title, from the very first &lt;u&gt;Chicken Soup for the Soul&lt;/u&gt; book. While I'm sure that there are many different versions of this story floating around out there, here is a summary of the version she read to us:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;There was a woman walking on the beach one afternoon. As the tide pulled away from the shore it left thousands of starfish stranded on the sand. As far as the woman could see up and down the beach there were starfish. As she continued to walk down the beach she saw a man walking several yards in front of her. She watched as this man would take a step, bend down, pick up a starfish and hurl it back into the ocean. Another step, another bend, another starfish flung into the ocean. When the woman was close enough to the man to speak to him she asked him what he was doing. "If these starfish stay here on the sand they'll die. I'm throwing them back into the ocean," the man said. The woman replied, "but there must be thousands of starfish on this beach. Throwing a few of them back into the ocean can't possibly make a difference!" At this, the man took a step, bent down, picked up a starfish and tossed it into the ocean. "Made a difference to that one."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I get so frustrated. How do we change birth practices in this culture of fear? Doctors are afraid of lawsuits, women are afraid of normal birth and that harm may come to themselves or their babies. A few weeks ago a lady on a birth board I frequent posted a link to a beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;unmedicated&lt;/span&gt; birth. Many of the comments to it were along the lines of &lt;em&gt;yuck&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;gross, disgusting.&lt;/em&gt; How sad! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another lady said she wanted to have an epidural because she was afraid of "losing control" in labor. She doesn't realize that by having that catheter in her back she gives up any control she ever had. She will be confined to bed, have a blood pressure cuff on one arm, tubes in the other, vaginal exams she can't feel and little control over pushing her baby out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One poor lady said she hoped (&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hoped?!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;) to have a c-section because she was afraid of "tearing" and "being so exposed" during a vaginal birth. How ironic and tragic! Has no one told her that a surgical incision is &lt;em&gt;worse&lt;/em&gt; than a tear? Does she not realize she will be exposed, at least for a time, from the chest down, and that her most feminine parts, her uterus and ovaries, will be exposed?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How? &lt;em&gt;How&lt;/em&gt; do we change this? Sometimes it just seems so hopeless. Thousands, thousands, &lt;em&gt;thousands&lt;/em&gt; of women lying stranded on the sand. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2243/2524607956_27023b5100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 251px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2243/2524607956_27023b5100.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am fortunate though. I have &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; hope for the future. I have one daughter (the one who was cut from me) and another daughter on the way (who will &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; be cut from me). They will grow up with a knowledge and respect for normal birth. They will &lt;em&gt;see&lt;/em&gt; normal birth. They will &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; how babies are made and how they are birthed. My Sarah, 4 years old, can't wait to see "baby Anna" come out of my "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fuh&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;jina&lt;/span&gt;". She delights in putting her hands together to form a "uterus", showing her two year old brother how it will contract, open, and "let baby Anna out to see us". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Made a difference to that one!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8071251950115263515?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8071251950115263515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/that-one.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8071251950115263515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8071251950115263515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/03/that-one.html' title='That One'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2243/2524607956_27023b5100_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4382208067291640688</id><published>2009-02-20T05:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trouble with Repeat Cesareans</title><content type='html'>Time Magazine has an article about women being forced into having repeat cesareans. It's eye-opening and a fair portrayal of the reality. You can read the article &lt;a href="http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1880665,00.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. I have some things to point out after reading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last line of the piece quotes a doctor saying, "&lt;em&gt;When the problems with multiple C-sections start to mount, we're going to look back and say, 'Oh, does anyone still know how to do VBAC?'"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?! A doctor doesn't &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; a VBAC. A VBAC is simply a &lt;u&gt;vaginal birth&lt;/u&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Women&lt;/em&gt; do that. And we've known how to do it since Eve, thankyouverymuch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to point out the sobering numbers mentioned in the article. Of the hospitals with a labor and delivery unit, 28% of those have outright VBAC bans and 21% have de facto bans, meaning that though the hospital doesn't prohibit VBACs there are no doctors who will attend them. That's 49%! Almost &lt;em&gt;half&lt;/em&gt; of the hospitals in this country force women into surgery. &lt;em&gt;Half&lt;/em&gt; of them force women to allow their babies to be cut from their wombs. &lt;em&gt;HALF--&lt;/em&gt;that's a large number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone wrote on my facebook wall today, “I love the link that you posted about VBACs-- I would hate to be forced to have another operation”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, a huge part of this problem is twofold: first, most women don’t &lt;em&gt;realize&lt;/em&gt; that doctors are forcing mothers into operations and second, women don’t know they don’t have to be &lt;em&gt;forced &lt;/em&gt;into surgery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mothers, it’s time we realize that we are not only consumers of Big Macs, Britax carseats, diapers and breast pumps. We are consumers in the health care industry as well! The control lies in our hands. We make the demands and call the shots, if we believe we do. Our mothers are the reason we are no longer knocked out and “delivered” of our babies by forceps. Let our daughters be the ones to say that their  mothers are the reason they are no longer bullied into unnecessary, unwanted surgeries, tied to metal tables, drained of blood and motherhood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pregnant, not pathology. Refuse to be a womb pod!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.meez.com/vbacwarrior" title="Meez 3D avatars and free games."&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.meez.com/user12/02/10/0210_10015118453.gif" alt="Meez 3D avatar avatars games" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4382208067291640688?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4382208067291640688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/02/trouble-with-repeat-cesareans.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4382208067291640688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4382208067291640688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/02/trouble-with-repeat-cesareans.html' title='The Trouble with Repeat Cesareans'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8635480179479118790</id><published>2009-02-06T05:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the Mad Hatter's Tea Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://alice.calvin.edu/images/Alice+TeaPartySmall.png"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 336px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://alice.calvin.edu/images/Alice+TeaPartySmall.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Hello, Alice! Welcome to the Mad Hatter's Tea Party, where everything that is, isn't, everything that isn't, may be, and everything you think you know is absolute nonsense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Would you like a cup of tea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;(Too) much press has been given to the mother who recently gave birth to octuplets. I don't care why she wanted more children. I don't care about anything relating to this story except this: why would a doctor allow or enable this mother to make such a potentially life-threatening choice for herself and her babies, but women all over this country are not allowed to make the far less dangerous decision of having a VBAC?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Switch seats! Move down, move down!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.keyboardrevolutionary.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Jill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; found &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/19136093?dopt=Abstract"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;this study&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;. I won't post the abstract because Jill has already done that. I will say that what it shows is that it's not only the VBAC mothers who are at risk for uterine rupture. Will ACOG admit this? Issue a new practice bulletin, perhaps? Will OBs stop the near-universal use of Pitocin? Probably not. What will probably happen is that mothers will continue to be told that Pitocin is safe, that their risk of uterine rupture is zero if they haven't had a cesarean, and that it's too risky to have a VBAC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your glass isn't empty, clean cup! Clean cup! Move down!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Now for the grand finale. It seems as though the state of California has suspended state regulations in order for Nurse Midwives, Physician Assistants and Nurse Practitioners to be trained to perform abortions. From the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.worldnetdaily.com/index.php?fa=PAGE.view&amp;amp;pageId=88097"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;article&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;According to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://cssrc.us/web/4/default.aspx?AspxAutoDetectCookieSupport=1"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;State Sen. Sam Annestad,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt; a Republican from Grass Valley, the goal of the abortion program that carefully was concealed behind the description "expanding early pregnancy care" apparently is to train medical assistants to do abortions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;In a website commentary about his discoveries, Aanestad said it apparently was begun in 2006 without legislative oversight and involves the state and several foundations contributing financially to the "pilot program" at Planned Parenthood abortion businesses in three cities. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;He said not only has the abortion-training program been concealed behind a "pregnancy care" label, state regulations have been suspended in order to allow "Nurse Midwives, Nurse Practitioners and Physician Assistants" to do procedures for which they would not ordinarily be considered qualified.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So, in many states we won't allow midwives to attend normal, healthy births...why? Because of the risk that mother or baby might die? However, in California midwives are being trained to (depending on your views of when life begins) end the life of a baby or prevent that life from ever beginning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary-wise; what it is it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see? ~from &lt;u&gt;Alice in Wonderland&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8635480179479118790?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8635480179479118790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/02/welcome-to-mad-hatter-tea-party.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8635480179479118790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8635480179479118790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/02/welcome-to-mad-hatter-tea-party.html' title='Welcome to the Mad Hatter&amp;#39;s Tea Party'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7613815982290459335</id><published>2009-02-05T09:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.365-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HOW did I know?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SYs2XMuifpI/AAAAAAAAAJw/xoGQqTpqYLk/s1600-h/Beckys_baby-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299389158712835730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SYs2XMuifpI/AAAAAAAAAJw/xoGQqTpqYLk/s320/Beckys_baby-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I just got home from my ultrasound and baby is &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; a girl (or a very, very unfortunate little boy). This means I'm 3 for 3 in knowing the gender of my child before an ultrasound tech tells me. For some reason that makes me feel very confident in knowing my body and my children. She's measuring perfectly-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt;! We're planning on a very normal-sized baby this time. As one of my sisters said, "that's a &lt;em&gt;huge&lt;/em&gt; accomplishment!" I gained 3lbs in the last 4 weeks, which puts me at 10lbs under my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre-pregnancy&lt;/span&gt; weight. It's nice to not have to worry about my weight gain anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and as you can see in my sidebar, our new little girl's name is Anna Lily! She will join her big sister, Sarah Elizabeth and her big brother, Caleb Joshua sometime at the end of June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7613815982290459335?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7613815982290459335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-did-i-know.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7613815982290459335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7613815982290459335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-did-i-know.html' title='HOW did I know?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SYs2XMuifpI/AAAAAAAAAJw/xoGQqTpqYLk/s72-c/Beckys_baby-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7649614611681884029</id><published>2009-02-04T05:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just for fun!</title><content type='html'>My children have become enamored with &lt;em&gt;Mary Poppins&lt;/em&gt; ("Poppins" to my 2 year old), so the songs have been playing non-stop for days. This morning I payed closer attention to the song "Sister Suffragette" and thought it would make a nice song with a little tweaking. You can find the original lyrics &lt;a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/marypoppins/sistersuffragette.htm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're clearly soldiers prepared to fight&lt;br /&gt;And dauntless crusaders for mothers’ rights&lt;br /&gt;Though we adore &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OBs&lt;/span&gt; individually&lt;br /&gt;We agree that as a group they're rather stupid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cast off the shackles of yesterday!&lt;br /&gt;Shoulder to shoulder into the fray!&lt;br /&gt;Our daughters' daughters will adore us&lt;br /&gt;And they'll sing in grateful chorus"&lt;br /&gt;Well done, Sister &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Birthragette&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From West Coast to East Coast&lt;br /&gt;One hears the restless cries!&lt;br /&gt;From &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ev'ry&lt;/span&gt; corner of the land:&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Motherkind&lt;/span&gt;, arise!"&lt;br /&gt;Birth choice equality, down with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ACOG&lt;/span&gt; and then&lt;br /&gt;Take heart! For mama midwives have been clapped in irons again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more the meek and mild subservients we!&lt;br /&gt;We're fighting for our rights, militantly!&lt;br /&gt;Never you fear!So, cast off the shackles of yesterday!&lt;br /&gt;Shoulder to shoulder into the fray!&lt;br /&gt;Our daughters' daughters will adore us&lt;br /&gt;And they'll sing in grateful chorus&lt;br /&gt;"Well done! Well done! Well done Sister &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Birthragette&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7649614611681884029?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7649614611681884029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-for-fun.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7649614611681884029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7649614611681884029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-for-fun.html' title='Just for fun!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8575906310188743107</id><published>2009-01-23T06:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And so it goes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I feel as though I've been holding my breath for six months. I knew it was coming, I just didn't know &lt;em&gt;when&lt;/em&gt;. They've been dropping hints of it here and there; asking me leading questions about each of my births, asking what I thought of theirs (both sections), praising their doctors' skills. Do I see accusations in their eyes when they talk to me? I feel so helpless in the face of their stunned realizations. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Sister A laments her scar. She had a bad infection after leaving the hospital and it had to be opened and drained. It's a thick, uneven scar that sort of "sticks out" where it had to be opened. It throbs and burns during her period, so much so that it brings her to tears. Is she crying from the pain or from the question of its necessity? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Her constant refrain these days is, "if they'd have just let me wait a little longer, I &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; I could have done it by myself!" They couldn't let her "wait" any longer though. After she got the epidural that she was &lt;em&gt;assured&lt;/em&gt; carried no major risks, her blood pressure skyrocketed and her temperature shot up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;At a recent visit to the OB who cut her she asked if he "did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt;". His answer was a pointy boot in the gut. "Oh sure we do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt;, if your baby isn't too big or too small, if you don't gain too much weight, if you wait 2 years after your cesarean and if you go into labor before 40 weeks." Here response to me said it all: so basically he told me I can't have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Then there's Sister H. While Sister A has always been upset by her section, Sister H is only just beginning to have her doubts. She recently learned that the OB who cut her doesn't do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt;. She didn't know a doctor could do that. I don't think she's quite brave enough to walk away from "her" beloved OB just yet, but still &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; wants to labor "to see what it's like." She told me that even if she "has" to have another section that she'd at least like to go into labor first. That doesn't sound like a woman who's afraid of any perceived &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; risks. It sounds like a woman who's afraid that she might have let her OB make a bad decision for her last time, like a woman who wants to know her body isn't broken, and like a woman who wants to give her baby the benefit of being ready to be born. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;By the way, Sister H had a section because her OB said baby was 11 or 12lbs. OB pulled out a 9lb baby.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I feel so absolutely stuck between my sisters! One wants me to tell her she made the right decision and the other wants me to tell her she can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; next time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I won't lie to my sisters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;But if my silence made you leave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Then that would be my worst mistake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;So I will share this room with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;And you can have this heart to break&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;And this is why my eyes are closed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;It's just as well for all I've seen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;And so it goes, and so it goes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;And you're the only one who knows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;    ~from Billy Joel's "And So It Goes"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8575906310188743107?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8575906310188743107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-so-it-goes.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8575906310188743107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8575906310188743107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-so-it-goes.html' title='And so it goes'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4298437486790024420</id><published>2009-01-21T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.417-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Working on my labor shirt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Since I'm going to be at the hospital for at least some of my labor (maybe), I've been working on a labor shirt or gown to wear for the labor and birth. I've always hated those hospital gowns that have the name of the hospital plastered all over them. Here's my current design. It's a plain white t-shirt with red letters:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293794469859048402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SXdWBcngO9I/AAAAAAAAAIg/jUyJ4WMgGTQ/s320/labor+shirt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4298437486790024420?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4298437486790024420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/working-on-my-labor-shirt.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4298437486790024420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4298437486790024420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/working-on-my-labor-shirt.html' title='Working on my labor shirt'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SXdWBcngO9I/AAAAAAAAAIg/jUyJ4WMgGTQ/s72-c/labor+shirt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5001681742815399901</id><published>2009-01-19T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A photo request</title><content type='html'>I'm working on putting together what I hope will be a beautiful post. The last things I need are the following photos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.       A pregnant woman standing near the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;2.       A picture of a laboring woman sweating.&lt;br /&gt;3.       A pregnant or laboring woman sitting with eyes closed.&lt;br /&gt;4.       A laboring woman surrounded by women.&lt;br /&gt;5.       A laboring woman with a strained or pained look on her face.&lt;br /&gt;6.       A mother resting with a fresh-squeezed baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have any of these photos and wouldn't mind me putting them on my blog, you can e-mail them to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vbacwarrior&lt;/span&gt; at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gmail&lt;/span&gt; dot com. If you have a blog I'd also be happy to link the photos to your blog. Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5001681742815399901?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5001681742815399901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/photo-request.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5001681742815399901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5001681742815399901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/photo-request.html' title='A photo request'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6673151582306253446</id><published>2009-01-12T04:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is the c-section anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWs69JMiflI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/d9sNOu4nsfM/s1600-h/sarah1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290387009391722066" style="WIDTH: 255px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWs69JMiflI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/d9sNOu4nsfM/s320/sarah1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWs7DgTK-AI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Q9YCsN50pbA/s1600-h/4yo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290387118672771074" style="WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWs7DgTK-AI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Q9YCsN50pbA/s320/4yo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Four years ago right now I was a happy, if a bit battle-worn, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;whole&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, young pregnant mother expecting to give birth to her first child in about three weeks. At 10:27 p.m. central time it will be four years since that changed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many people ask me, "how can you still be so upset about something that happened so long ago? It can't be &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; bad!" I'll admit that now, anyway, it's not "that bad"-not for most of the year. It's just this day. I ask myself that question a lot too,though. How can &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;, the woman who held her teenage sister's hand as a doctor told her that her baby boy had died just two weeks before he was due, &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;, the woman who watched that young body give birth to a lifeless body, &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;, a woman who knows, personally, that birth can so often only mean death, how can &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; be upset when I have such a bright, beautiful four-year-old, &lt;em&gt;living, &lt;/em&gt;blessing in my life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though a scar will never be the same as the ache of a missing baby, I think my sister said it perfectly recently when she said, "it's not okay. it's &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; going to be okay because he's &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; coming back." This scar will never go away. Where there is a physical scar there always remains an emotional one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's worse for me this year because it's the first time I've been pregnant on the c-section anniversary. What is comforting today,though, is that when I look down my scar is eclipsed by my growing breasts and belly. For the next 5-6 months, at least, my scar will be invisible to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still, a thought I can't get out of my head: I'm carrying a baby in a damaged uterus. My first baby had a &lt;em&gt;whole&lt;/em&gt; home. My other two had to settle for second-best. They deserve so much better than that and it's something I'll never be able to give them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6673151582306253446?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6673151582306253446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/today-is-c-section-anniversary.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6673151582306253446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6673151582306253446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/today-is-c-section-anniversary.html' title='Today is the c-section anniversary'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWs69JMiflI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/d9sNOu4nsfM/s72-c/sarah1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4077751355104010332</id><published>2009-01-08T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YES! YES! YES! I'M DOING IT!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I had my 16 week prenatal appointment today. Some small disappointing news: I lost 2lbs. No more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ketones&lt;/span&gt; in my urine though, so the midwife was happy. She said she "wanted to see some weight" on me next time though. I told her, "have you LOOKED at my thighs?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the really, really good, fabulous, wonderful, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;terrific&lt;/span&gt;, exciting, couldn't be any better news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M &lt;em&gt;GROWING&lt;/em&gt; A BABY!!!! She didn't take an actual numeric measurement from pubic bone to top of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fundus&lt;/span&gt;, but she did feel for how high up it was. It's HIGHER than she would expect! Can you believe that?! I'm going to have a NORMAL-size baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a happy day, today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4077751355104010332?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4077751355104010332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/yes-yes-yes-i-doing-it.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4077751355104010332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4077751355104010332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/yes-yes-yes-i-doing-it.html' title='YES! YES! YES! I&amp;#39;M DOING IT!!!!!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2175872219313160535</id><published>2009-01-06T13:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How My Babies (Don't) Grow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is what my babies looked like at birth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarah, 3lbs 10oz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWPRAqzKUII/AAAAAAAAAIA/IbpR-MNycN8/s1600-h/sarah1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288300196882174082" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWPRAqzKUII/AAAAAAAAAIA/IbpR-MNycN8/s320/sarah1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caleb, 5lbs, 2oz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWPRI4Lua2I/AAAAAAAAAII/crMY0OTRqCA/s1600-h/caleb1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288300337913817954" style="WIDTH: 332px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 209px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWPRI4Lua2I/AAAAAAAAAII/crMY0OTRqCA/s320/caleb1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2175872219313160535?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2175872219313160535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-my-babies-don-grow.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2175872219313160535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2175872219313160535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-my-babies-don-grow.html' title='How My Babies (Don&amp;#39;t) Grow'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SWPRAqzKUII/AAAAAAAAAIA/IbpR-MNycN8/s72-c/sarah1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8974169513354915579</id><published>2009-01-06T07:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.491-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Weight and Wait</title><content type='html'>Four weeks from now I will be 20 weeks pregnant. Four weeks from now I will have a prenatal appointment that will consist of a new element: the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fundal&lt;/span&gt; height measurement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This new stage of my pregnancy is one I dread. I dread it more than blood tests and cold hands. This will, in theory, tell the midwife how my baby is growing. My babies don't grow well. I had a 37 week 3lb 10oz baby and a 41 week 5lb 2oz baby. My pregnancies are plagued with alphabet soup: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IUGR&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SGA&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a young, healthy, chubby woman. Why can't I grow a healthy weight, chubby baby? "&lt;em&gt;Maybe you just grow small babies&lt;/em&gt;." That's what everyone says. I'm 5'1'', but so is my mother and she smoked and had 7 children all between 6-7lbs. My husband is six feet tall. Where are &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt; genes in these babies? My MIL is even shorter than me and both of her babies weighed over 7lbs at birth. My 15 year old sister had a baby who weighed almost 8lbs and another sister recently gave birth to a 9lb baby. There's &lt;em&gt;no way&lt;/em&gt; I "just grow small babies." Except...I do. I want to know &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; though and I want to change it. A week ago I had a dream that I gave birth to a delicious 9lb, 12oz baby. I don't know what "they'd" say about a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; mom pushing out an almost 10lb baby, but there's no doubt in my mind I could do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night my first child was born, less than 4lbs, there was a mother who gave birth to 6lb twins. I cried. &lt;em&gt;She&lt;/em&gt; could grow &lt;em&gt;two&lt;/em&gt; babies to 6lbs but I couldn't even do that with just one. It's such a sad thing to give birth to a baby that looks like his mother has starved him for nine months...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8974169513354915579?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8974169513354915579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/on-weight-and-wait.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8974169513354915579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8974169513354915579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/on-weight-and-wait.html' title='On Weight and Wait'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4096462589083381872</id><published>2009-01-05T06:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HG and Me</title><content type='html'>As I've mentioned before, I have suffered from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hyperemesis&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gravidarum&lt;/span&gt; in a previous pregnancy (my first) and am again dealing with it during this pregnancy (my third). I lost close to 30 lbs with my first pregnancy and had a baby born at 37 weeks, 1 day weighing 3lbs, 10oz. Cause and effect? Well, my doctor said no, but she also couldn't tell me &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; she was so small. With my second pregnancy I wasn't sick, had better nutrition, and had a bigger baby. So, you be the judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This third pregnancy and second battle with HG have been horrifying. This time I have a two year old and four year old to take care of. I haven't been able to take very good care of them. The nausea has been much worse this time, not even abating at night. I was finally admitted to the hospital about 3 weeks ago. I stayed there for four days. The first day I didn't even try to eat anything. I just slept and let my fluids and nutrition come from my iv bag. The second day I sat up and sipped chicken broth and lemon jello. The third day I began drinking water by mouth and the fourth day I was keeping down pot roast and green beans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four days after leaving the hospital I had a weight check and had gained back 4lbs. There was some concern though because I still had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ketones&lt;/span&gt; in my urine. Since I was, however, eating, drinking and gaining weight I was sent home instead of back to the hospital. This Thursday I go in for a regular 16 week prenatal appointment. I'm hoping I've gained a lot of weight and there are no more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ketones&lt;/span&gt;. We'll see on Thursday. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4096462589083381872?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4096462589083381872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/hg-and-me.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4096462589083381872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4096462589083381872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/hg-and-me.html' title='HG and Me'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6144790226248778154</id><published>2009-01-02T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back for Good</title><content type='html'>Wow, what a busy six months I've had! I moved to Alabama, got pregnant, moved back to Florida, celebrated the second anniversary of my first VBAC (my little guy's two?!), survived another busy holiday season and will soon remember (notice I don't say "celebrate") the fourth anniversary of my c-section and have a big party celebrating my big girl's 4th birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally have internet access again and am glad to say that I'm back to &lt;a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-am-not-womb-pod.html"&gt;Refuse to be a Womb Pod&lt;/a&gt; for good. Over the past 15 weeks of this pregnancy I've had many thoughts and experiences that I've wanted to explore here and it was frustrating to not have that capability. Among the "highlights" are a huge blow to my birth plans and a debilitating battle with &lt;a href="http://www.helpher.org/"&gt;HG&lt;/a&gt;. Thankfully I'm recovering from both. I haven't thrown up in about two weeks now and am down to taking the Zofran just once a day. I hate taking that medicine. It scares me to death. Maybe I'll be off it by next week :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a small concern about my placenta, too. I know most of those who read here will think it's silly, but I think I may (again) have an anterior placenta. At almost 16 weeks pregnant with my third baby I have yet to feel any discernible movement. I'm absolutely confident that if I was feeling movement I'd know it at this point. I think the lack of feeling on my part is because of an anterior placenta. The midwife has also had a difficult time finding heart tones. With my last pregnancy, I had an anterior placenta as well. It didn't cause any problems as far as my cervix or cesarean scar were concerned, but I did have a very long labor with a malpositioned baby. While I describe that labor to anyone who'll listen as a "blast", I'd prefer a shorter "blast" this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I've been MIA for so long. Please check back often, as I'm hoping to be able to post at least every other day now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6144790226248778154?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6144790226248778154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-for-good.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6144790226248778154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6144790226248778154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-for-good.html' title='Back for Good'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3264386635808697570</id><published>2008-12-21T12:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay Tuned</title><content type='html'>Sorry I've been MIA. I haven't had a computer for awhile (getting one for Christmas!) and I've been VERY ill. I was in the hospital last week for 4 days. I suffer from hyperemesis gravidarum. I've lost a lot of weight already, but hopefully everything is under control now. I'll be back and blogging very, very soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a LOT to say!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S., for those who asksed questions:&lt;br /&gt;1. midwives in FL can attend home vbacs. I believe they have to have a "back up doctor" to sign off on it. No big deal, really, but I've heard it's very hard to find doctors to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My midwife asked me if I'd like to be tested for AIDS. I said no, signed a form saying that I declined, and that was that. I believe the law is that the midwife has to ASK if you want to be tested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://tac.families.com/ezb/1178879.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tickers.families.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3264386635808697570?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3264386635808697570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/12/stay-tuned.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3264386635808697570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3264386635808697570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/12/stay-tuned.html' title='Stay Tuned'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-983680622471873258</id><published>2008-10-28T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.534-08:00</updated><title type='text'>VBAC IS PREGNANT!</title><content type='html'>Woo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;! I'm pregnant! Somewhere between five and seven weeks. I figure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;baby'll&lt;/span&gt; come in mid to late June. It's a nice time to have a baby :) I'll be moving back down to Florida so I can have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt;. There's just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OBs&lt;/span&gt; and "underground" midwives here. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OBs&lt;/span&gt; want to cut me and the midwives won't touch me because I've had two "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;SGA&lt;/span&gt;" babies. Doesn't bother me though. I like Florida. It's home :) I'll actually be giving birth in my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;MIL's&lt;/span&gt; house. Odd situation, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm SO... FREAKING... EXCITED! This baby was very unexpected. After my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; I wanted to have another baby RIGHT then. Obviously, that didn't happen. I did become pregnant unexpectedly when my baby was 4 months old but miscarried at 8 weeks. Now my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;vbac&lt;/span&gt; baby (Little Man) is 23 months old and we're all ready, willing and waiting! My nearly 4yo (Little Miss) can't wait. She asks, "Mommy can I kiss the baby?" I say yes. Then she lifts my shirt and says, "now remind me again where she is?" (she's dearly wishing for a sister). She also keeps smelling my head and saying, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;MMMM&lt;/span&gt;! I LOVE that baby smell!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here was our recent conversation about how the baby will come out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: do you remember where the baby will come out?&lt;br /&gt;4yo: yes, from your v*.&lt;br /&gt;me: that's right.&lt;br /&gt;4yo: can I help you push her out?&lt;br /&gt;me: well, I have to do all the work but you can hold my hand&lt;br /&gt;4yo: but I WANT TO HELP YOU PUSH HER OUT!&lt;br /&gt;me: well, it's not really something you can help me with. I'll be pushing kinda like when you have a hard time going to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;4yo: oh, so you're pooping the baby out of your v*?&lt;br /&gt;me: well, kinda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too funny! She's going to be hilarious at the birth. She'll be 4 1/2 when the big day arrives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-983680622471873258?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/983680622471873258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/10/vbac-is-pregnant.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/983680622471873258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/983680622471873258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/10/vbac-is-pregnant.html' title='VBAC IS PREGNANT!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6294733131885835611</id><published>2008-09-10T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.564-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Own Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This is from my c-section poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wordle.net/gallery/wrdl/177045/c-section_birth"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;pre id="embed"&gt;&lt;a href="http://wordle.net/gallery/wrdl/177045/c-section_birth"&gt;&lt;img src="http://wordle.net/thumb/wrdl/177045/c-section_birth" style="border: 1px solid rgb(221, 221, 221); padding: 4px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This is from my vbac poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wordle.net/gallery/wrdl/177133/vbac_birth_poem" title="Wordle: vbac birth poem"&gt;&lt;img src="http://wordle.net/thumb/wrdl/177133/vbac_birth_poem" style="border: 1px solid rgb(221, 221, 221); padding: 4px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s236.photobucket.com/albums/ff104/vbacwarrior/?action=view&amp;amp;current=siggyVBAC.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff104/vbacwarrior/siggyVBAC.png" alt="siggy" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6294733131885835611?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6294733131885835611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-own-words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6294733131885835611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6294733131885835611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-own-words.html' title='My Own Words'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8353608968462917115</id><published>2008-09-10T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Laundry and Birthin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://pocketsofthefuture.com/blog/"&gt;Leslie&lt;/a&gt; made a comment on &lt;a href="http://lentilsandrice.blogspot.com/2008/09/subtleties.html"&gt;Robyn's blog&lt;/a&gt; this afternoon. The comment itself is about hand-washing laundry, but as I was reading I was amazed by how perfectly the same comment could have been written about unmedicated and home birthing. Take out the words laundry and clothes and insert birth and birthing, and you have a beautiful commentary on birth the way it can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Increased consciousness, properly managed, leads to increased gratitude. Increased gratitude, clearly seen and properly attributed, leads to God. It is a grave mistake to assume that the so-called modern way of doing things is necessarily the better way. Deeper analysis, observation and mostly honest to goodness personal experience is required to really assess even these seemingly simple activities. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is all in the subtleties.&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s236.photobucket.com/albums/ff104/vbacwarrior/?action=view&amp;amp;current=siggyVBAC.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff104/vbacwarrior/siggyVBAC.png" alt="siggy" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8353608968462917115?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8353608968462917115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-laundry-and-birthin.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8353608968462917115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8353608968462917115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-laundry-and-birthin.html' title='On Laundry and Birthin&amp;#39;'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5189120237648678035</id><published>2008-09-08T12:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's a "Womb Pod"?</title><content type='html'>Someone asked me today, "what is a womb pod"? Have you heard of BirthTrack? It's fascinating new technology! You can read all about it &lt;a href="http://www.barnev.com/www.barnev.com/index7797.html?CategoryID=187"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. See the picture? That, dear mama, is a "womb pod". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s236.photobucket.com/albums/ff104/vbacwarrior/?action=view&amp;amp;current=siggyVBAC.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff104/vbacwarrior/siggyVBAC.png" alt="siggy" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5189120237648678035?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5189120237648678035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-pod.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5189120237648678035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5189120237648678035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-pod.html' title='What&amp;#39;s a &amp;quot;Womb Pod&amp;quot;?'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2513570568226516738</id><published>2008-09-02T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When they came for me, there was no one left</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SL1sr-tp-NI/AAAAAAAAAGI/sqfWKhDjpN0/s1600-h/ACOG.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SL1sr-tp-NI/AAAAAAAAAGI/sqfWKhDjpN0/s320/ACOG.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241465044153792722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;color:black;"   &gt;CONTACT:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;Steff Hedenkamp,  (816) 506-4630, &lt;a title="mailto:steff@thebigpushformidwives.org" href="mailto:steff@thebigpushformidwives.org" target="_blank"&gt;steff@thebigpushformidwives.&lt;wbr&gt;org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;FOR  IMMEDIATE RELEASE: Monday, September 1, 2008&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18;"&gt;Number Two With a  Bullet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Critical Women’s Health Issues Neglected as Physician Group Yet Again  Sets its Sites on Midwives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;WASHINGTON, D.C. (September 1, 2008)—In the newest phase of its ongoing  effort to deny women the right to choose their maternity care providers and  birth settings, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG)  has announced that eliminating access to midwives who specialize in  out-of-hospital birth is now the second most important issue on its state  legislative agenda. This move puts restricting access to trained midwives ahead  of such critical issues as contraceptive equity, ensuring access to emergency  contraception, and the prevention and treatment of perinatal  HIV/AIDS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“ACOG claims to be an advocate of women’s health and choice, but when it  comes to the right to choose to deliver your baby in the privacy of your own  home with a Certified Professional Midwife (CPM) who is specifically trained to  provide the safest care possible, ACOG’s paternalistic colors bleed through,”  said Susan M. Jenkins, Legal Counsel for the Big Push for Midwives Campaign. “It  is astonishing that an organization that purports to be a champion of women’s  healthcare would put a petty turf battle that affects less than one percent of  the nation’s childbearing women ahead of pressing issues that have an impact on  nearly every woman in this country. If this is not dereliction of duty, I can’t  imagine what is.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In recent years, ACOG has led a well-financed campaign to fight  legislative reforms that would license and regulate CPMs and has now teamed up  with the American Medical Association (AMA) to promote legislation that would  prevent families from choosing to give birth at home. Despite these joint  efforts, the groups have not been successful in defeating the groundswell of  grassroots activism in support of full access to a comprehensive range of  maternity care options that meet the needs of all families.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Wisconsin is a good example of what ACOG and the  AMA are up against,” said Jane Crawford Peterson, CPM, Advocacy Trainer for The  Big Push. “Our bipartisan grassroots coalition of everyday people from across  the state managed to defeat the most powerful and well-financed special interest  groups in Wisconsin, all on an expenses-only budget of  $3000 during a legislative session in which $47 million was spent on lobbying.  When you try to deny women the fundamental and very personal right to choose  where and how to give birth, they will get organized and they will let their  elected officials know that restrictions on those rights cannot  stand.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Noting these successes, ACOG has recently launched its own grassroots  organizing effort, calling on member physicians to recruit their patients to  participate in its “Who Will Deliver My Baby?” medical liability reform  campaign.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“ACOG itself admits that we’re facing a critical shortage of maternity  care providers,” said Steff Hedenkamp, Communications Coordinator for the Big  Push. “They certainly realize that medical liability reform is nothing more than  a band aid and that increasing access to midwives and birth settings is critical  to fixing our maternity care system and ensuring that rural, low-income and  uninsured women don’t fall through the cracks. Midwives represent an essential  growth segment of the U.S. pool of maternity care  providers, but instead of putting the healthcare needs of women first, ACOG  would rather devote its considerable lobbying budget to a last-ditch attempt to  protect its own bottom line. This is not a happy Labor Day for our nation’s  mothers and babies.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The Big Push for Midwives (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="http://www.thebigpushformidwives.org/" href="http://www.thebigpushformidwives.org/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;http://www.&lt;wbr&gt;TheBigPushforMidwives.org&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;)  is a nationally coordinated campaign organized to advocate for regulation and  licensure of Certified Professional Midwives (CPMs) in all 50 states, the  District of Columbia and Puerto Rico, and to push back against the attempts of  the American Medical Association and the American College of Obstetricians and  Gynecologists to deny American families access to safe and legal midwifery care.  The campaign plays a critical role in building a new model of U.S. maternity  care delivery at the local and regional levels, at the heart of which is the  Midwives Model of Care, based on the fact that pregnancy and birth are normal  life processes. Media inquiries: Steff Hedenkamp (816) 506-4630, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="mailto:steff@thebigpushformidwives.org" href="mailto:steff@thebigpushformidwives.org" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;steff@thebigpushformidwives.&lt;wbr&gt;org&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Garamond;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;#####&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;The Big Push for Midwives Campaign is fiscally  sponsored by Sustainable Markets Foundation, a not-for-profit organization  recognized as tax-exempt under Internal Revenue Code section 501(c)(3). The  mission of the Big Push for Midwives is to build winning, state-level advocacy  campaigns towards successful regulation and licensure of Certified Professional  Midwives (CPMs) in all 50 states, the District of  Columbia, and Puerto Rico.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;Visit the Big Push for Midwives Campaign on the  Web at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;a title="http://ent.groundspring.org/EmailNow/pub.php?module=URLTracker&amp;amp;cmd=track&amp;amp;j=227950734&amp;amp;u=2397811" href="http://ent.groundspring.org/EmailNow/pub.php?module=URLTracker&amp;amp;cmd=track&amp;amp;j=227950734&amp;amp;u=2397811" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;www.TheBigPushforMidwives.org&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;Sustainable Markets Foundation  |   80 Broad Street, Suite 1600   |  New York, NY  10004-2248 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;The Big Push for Midwives Campaign  |   2300 M Street, N.W., Suite 800   |  Washington,  D.C.  20037-1434&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SL1-cCw7yyI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/gU8gznxpZ5w/s1600-h/siggyVBAC.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SL1-cCw7yyI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/gU8gznxpZ5w/s320/siggyVBAC.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241484561572678434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2513570568226516738?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2513570568226516738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-they-came-for-me-there-was-no-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2513570568226516738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2513570568226516738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-they-came-for-me-there-was-no-one.html' title='When they came for me, there was no one left'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SL1sr-tp-NI/AAAAAAAAAGI/sqfWKhDjpN0/s72-c/ACOG.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-1558153499264876336</id><published>2008-08-29T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And Then There Were Three. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SLgZ6wojlqI/AAAAAAAAAFw/V-WDQx-x4ss/s1600-h/Becky.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SLgZ6wojlqI/AAAAAAAAAFw/V-WDQx-x4ss/s320/Becky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239966663723685538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;vbacwarrior, January 2005&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SLgaPLhxnMI/AAAAAAAAAF4/kw8YLZR_j1I/s1600-h/amanda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SLgaPLhxnMI/AAAAAAAAAF4/kw8YLZR_j1I/s320/amanda.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239967014540385474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sister A, July 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SLgaZ8ofkRI/AAAAAAAAAGA/fwDaM_Bi49A/s1600-h/5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SLgaZ8ofkRI/AAAAAAAAAGA/fwDaM_Bi49A/s320/5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239967199520592146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sister H, August 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three blind mice&lt;br /&gt;Three blind mice&lt;br /&gt;See how they run&lt;br /&gt;See how they run&lt;br /&gt;They all ran after the farmer's wife&lt;br /&gt;Who cut off their tails with a carving knife&lt;br /&gt;Did you ever see such a thing in your life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As three blind mice?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-1558153499264876336?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/1558153499264876336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-then-there-were-three.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1558153499264876336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1558153499264876336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-then-there-were-three.html' title='And Then There Were Three. . .'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SLgZ6wojlqI/AAAAAAAAAFw/V-WDQx-x4ss/s72-c/Becky.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-3743253997153152844</id><published>2008-08-28T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>VBAC IS BACK!</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry I haven't been around. We moved to a different state, and then. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my two sisters had c-sections. *sob* &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TWO&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;TWO&lt;/span&gt; sisters each had a c-section!! Four weeks apart, exactly. Same hospital, different doctors. Different reasons. I'm not ashamed to say that it PISSES me off. I'm fuming..&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;.FUMING&lt;/span&gt;!!! I am &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;raging     freaking     mad&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one, I'll call her sister A, suffered from an infection at her incision site. Her son has been re-hospitalized for illness and infections, as well. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Surprise, surprise&lt;/span&gt;. My second sister, sister H, is now battling deep depression and an overwhelming feeling of inadequacy. Again, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;surprise, surprise&lt;/span&gt;! All KNOWN possible side-effects of a section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbelievable. Un-be-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;freaking&lt;/span&gt;-lievable! There are five of us sisters. Three have now had c-sections. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;3 out of 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. How are those statistics for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my sisters. I love them dearly. I'm not mad at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;them&lt;/span&gt;. I'm mad that they fell victim to a system that chews up mothers and babies and spits out dollar bills.  They're my sisters, but to our maternity "care" system, they're just money and liabilities. My sisters were cut because two doctors had to put food on the table for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; children. They care more about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;their own&lt;/span&gt; families than other people's. What kind of messed up system do we have that makes doctors, so-called "care providers", choose between the health and safety of their families and the health and safety of others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want to know is WHO is responsible for the United States maternity care system? &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who &lt;/span&gt;gave control of it to malpractice insurance companies? You know who you are. . . and listen. &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Listen     to     me&lt;/span&gt;. You've pissed off one mama too many. There are more mothers in this country than there are of '&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;', and you're going down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a sword of knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;I have a shield of courage.&lt;br /&gt;I have armour of compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.meez.com/vbacwarrior" title="Meez 3D avatars and free games."&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.meez.com/user12/02/10/0210_10015118454.gif" alt="Meez 3D avatar avatars games" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-3743253997153152844?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/3743253997153152844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/08/vbac-is-back.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3743253997153152844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/3743253997153152844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/08/vbac-is-back.html' title='VBAC IS BACK!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2380074541419750960</id><published>2008-06-26T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What doctors have to say for themselves</title><content type='html'>from &lt;a href="http://www.rd.com/living-healthy/41-medical-secrets/article75920.html"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my comments are in blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;• I was told in school to put a patient in a gown when he isn't listening or cooperating. It casts him in a position of subservience.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;em&gt;Chiropractor&lt;/em&gt;, Atlanta &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;(is this why pregnant moms are put into gowns?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  • The most unsettling thing for a physician is when the patient doesn't trust you or believe you.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;em&gt;Obstetrician-gynecologist&lt;/em&gt;, New York City&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;(and yet... you continue to lie to your patients...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;• Taking psychiatric drugs affects your insurability. If you take Prozac, it may be harder and more expensive for you to get life insurance, health insurance, or long-term-care insurance.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;em&gt;Daniel Amen, MD&lt;/em&gt;, psychiatrist, Newport Beach, California &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;(but doctors are VERY anxious to prescribe them, especially postpartum mothers)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;• Avoid Friday afternoon surgery. The day after surgery is when most problems happen. If the next day is Saturday, you're flying by yourself without a safety net, because the units are understaffed and ERs are overwhelmed because doctors' offices are closed.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;em&gt;Heart surgeon&lt;/em&gt;, New York City&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;(so better think twice when you're scheduling your c-section. All the more reason to take a closer look at the catastrophically high section rate in this country!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; • Not a day goes by when I don't think about the potential for being sued. It makes me give patients a lot of unnecessary tests that are potentially harmful, just so I don't miss an injury or problem that comes back to haunt me in the form of a lawsuit.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;em&gt;ER physician&lt;/em&gt;, Colorado Springs, Colorado &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;(and THIS, ladies, is why you get so many tests when you're pregnant. NOT because they're necessary and save &lt;em&gt;so &lt;/em&gt;many lives.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; • It's pretty common for doctors to talk about their patients and make judgments, particularly about their appearance.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;em&gt;Family physician&lt;/em&gt;, Washington, D.C. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;(WOW! Really makes ya wanna plop your wide butt onto that table and open your legs now, doesn't it?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;• In most branches of medicine, we deal more commonly with old people. So we become much more enthusiastic when a young person comes along. We have more in common with and are more attracted to him or her. Doctors have a limited amount of time, so the younger and more attractive you are, the more likely you are to get more of our time.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;em&gt;Family physician&lt;/em&gt;, Washington, D.C. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;(just in case you wanted another reason to hate growing older!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  • At least a third of what doctors decide is fairly arbitrary.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;em&gt;Heart surgeon&lt;/em&gt;, New York City &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;("your pelvis is too small, your baby is too big, your baby is too little, you're overdue, you've gained too much weight, you need to be induced, you need a c-section, it's dangerous not to have an iv...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;60% of doctors don't follow hand-washing guidelines. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Source: &lt;em&gt;CDC Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;96% of doctors agree they should report impaired or incompetent colleagues or those who make serious mistakes, but ... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;46% of them admit to having turned a blind eye at least once. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Source: &lt;em&gt;Annals of Internal Medicine &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;94% of doctors have accepted some kind of freebie from a drug company. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Source: &lt;em&gt;New England Journal of Medicine &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2380074541419750960?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2380074541419750960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-doctors-have-to-say-for-themselves.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2380074541419750960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2380074541419750960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-doctors-have-to-say-for-themselves.html' title='What doctors have to say for themselves'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7297913545514006943</id><published>2008-06-22T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.662-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chat with me!</title><content type='html'>If anyone is interested, I now have an AIM screen name: vbacwarrior.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7297913545514006943?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7297913545514006943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/06/chat-with-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7297913545514006943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7297913545514006943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/06/chat-with-me.html' title='Chat with me!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-9067503698822135167</id><published>2008-06-21T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hubris: A Master Class</title><content type='html'>The American Medical Association (AMA) recently issued a resolution that clearly shows their intent to legislate women out of home birth. The resolution reads, in part,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"RESOLVED, That our AMA develop model legislation in support of the concept that the safest setting for labor, delivery, and the immediate post-partum period is in the hospital, or a birthing center within a hospital complex, that meets standards jointly outlined by the AAP and ACOG, or in a freestanding birthing center that meets the standards of the Accreditation Association for Ambulatory Health Care, The Joint Commission, or the American Association of Birth Centers.” (Directive to Take Action)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and can be found &lt;a href="http://www.ama-assn.org/ama/pub/category/18587.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; (click on Resolution 205)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier this year, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) issued a &lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://www.acog.org/from_home/publications/press_releases/nr02-06-08-2.cfm"&gt;"Statement on Home Births"&lt;/a&gt; that reads, in part,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) reiterates its long-standing opposition to home births. While childbirth is a normal physiologic process that most women experience without problems, monitoring of both the woman and the fetus during labor and delivery in a hospital or accredited birthing center is essential because complications can arise with little or no warning even among women with low-risk pregnancies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ACOG acknowledges a woman's right to make informed decisions regarding her delivery and to have a choice in choosing her health care provider, but ACOG does not support programs that advocate for, or individuals who provide, home births. Nor does ACOG support the provision of care by midwives who are not certified by the American College of Nurse-Midwives (ACNM) or the American Midwifery Certification Board (AMCB). "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can (theoretically) understand obstetric and other medical organizations not being fully supportive of home birth. Could you imagine the blow to hospital revenue if even 50% of low-risk women chose home birth with a midwife as opposed to hospital birth with an OB?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is absolutely outrageous to me is the hubris of these organizations!  In their statement, ACOG says that they "acknowledge a woman's right to make informed decisions regarding her delivery and to have a choice in choosing her health care provider". Apparently, though, part of our "right to make informed decisions" does *not* include the right to choose home birth with a midwife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BRAVO, AMA and ACOG for so condescendingly joining "Big Brother" and "Father Knows Best" !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've heard so many women say, "they'll never do that" or "that will never happen" (passing legislation making home birth illegal). Don't you see, though, that it &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;IS&lt;/span&gt; happening? These powerful organizations are joining forces and if they try hard enough, and women continue to sit on their "they'll never do it" duffs, it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;GOING&lt;/span&gt; to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't agree with "hospital birth for the masses", but I believe in the right to choose. Even if you don't think home birth is right for you, don't you agree that each mother should be free to choose for herself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two things I would ask that you consider doing are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="https://forms.house.gov/wyr/welcome.shtml"&gt;Contact your representative&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Write to ACOG Government Relations at&lt;br /&gt;Government Relations Staff&lt;br /&gt;Mailing Address:&lt;br /&gt;PO Box 96920&lt;br /&gt;Washington, DC 20090-6920&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-9067503698822135167?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/9067503698822135167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/06/hubris-master-class.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/9067503698822135167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/9067503698822135167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/06/hubris-master-class.html' title='Hubris: A Master Class'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-4809130054454569525</id><published>2008-05-19T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We Interrupt This Blog</title><content type='html'>This post will be pretty off-topic, but I love my city so I wanted to share this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Four hundred fifty days before its &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.pnj.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080519/NEWS01/805190310"&gt;450th birthday&lt;/a&gt;, Pensacola will begin the celebration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" class="articleflex-container"&gt;  &lt;div class="articleflex"&gt;      &lt;script language="JavaScript"&gt;OAS_AD('ArticleFlex_1');&lt;/script&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The public is invited to the kick-off event to "Celebrate Pensacola" at 5 p.m. Friday at the Escambia County Courthouse. The culmination of the celebration will come on Aug. 15, 2009, with a big birthday party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don Tristan de Luna and his band of Spanish explorers sloshed ashore somewhere along Pensacola Bay in 1559. Two years later, the settlement was gone, besieged by a hurricane and other problems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my personal part in the festivities and celebration, I have followed &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.swva.net/fred1st/wif.htm"&gt;this template&lt;/a&gt; and written my "where I'm from" poem. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/BECKY%7E1.SET/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/BECKY%7E1.SET/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-3.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Connecticut;font-size:180%;"  &gt;Where I’m From&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 388px; height: 135px;" src="http://i26.tinypic.com/feqh43.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I am from a hot sidewalk on tanned bare feet, from Cool Whip and melting grape Popsicles and sounds like Pepsi Cola.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am from the house with seventeen pine trees and two banana trees, a yard filled with children, a grill that always smells like last night’s barbecue and a cracked concrete patio stained with muddy foot (and paw) prints.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am from palm trees and orange blossom, azaleas and sand-spurs, seaweed and the gritty ocean breeze, from sand in your hair and in your toes and everywhere in between.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am from vowells and dabbs, with a Half but no Steps, Granddad’s hidden candy bars, Mary’s back rubs and money, both old and new. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From “wait ‘til your daddy gets home,” Stille Nacht and &lt;em&gt;don’t wake the baby&lt;/em&gt; (there was &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; a baby). &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I am from three-to-a-tub, mom’s home at five and the great Blue Birds flyin’ in that hot Florida sky.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I am from faithful church-hopping, endless summertime VBS and always, &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; Hopkins wax paper-covered, fat-filled absolutely the most delicious Southern fare this side of anywhere. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m from Spanish lore and conquistadors, quests for gold, Five Flags and forts of old. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the time Great Uncle I forget who nearly chopped his foot off cutting wood and had it wrapped in turpentine and rags because there was no hospital and mama and daddy honeymooning on a beach they didn’t know was topless. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am from the backs of closets, lining the walls. From baskets and under beds and in old backpacks and all those nightgowns mama got for each birth (there were seven). From seven birth certificates, first-day-of-school shoes, three sets of bunk beds, and from knowing five different ways to get anywhere I want to go. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From survives hurricanes and supports troops, from trains pilots and tans visitors. From hopefully not many shark attacks and knowing that horrible secret that takes the yee-&lt;em&gt;ow&lt;/em&gt; from a jellyfish sting. From knowing a red light means stop and a red flag means don’t go in the water.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And knowing in my heart that Dorothy Gail  had it right, except that maybe there’s no place like home &lt;em&gt;and the people who make it so&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i26.tinypic.com/vsnshw.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-4809130054454569525?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/4809130054454569525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/05/we-interrupt-this-blog.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4809130054454569525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/4809130054454569525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/05/we-interrupt-this-blog.html' title='We Interrupt This Blog'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i26.tinypic.com/feqh43_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-6823877916046580177</id><published>2008-05-11T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The legacy my mother leaves</title><content type='html'>I am the oldest of seven children. There are five girls and two boys. The boys are right in the middle: girl, girl, girl, boy, boy, girl, girl. Seven singletons. No twins (and, because we were often asked: no, we’re not Catholic).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother had three vaginal births, then a c-section, then three VBACs. Her VBACs were in the late 80s, early 90s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All seven of my mother’s births were epidural-free hospital births. For her cesarean she had general anesthesia because it was an emergency situation and there was no time for an epidural or spinal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am 27 years old and my youngest sibling will be 16 in June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the birth legacy my mother left to her children:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birth is usually safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Judicious&lt;/span&gt; use of life-saving medical technology is imperative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mother’s pain or discomfort should not trump her child’s well-being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babies should be born vaginally &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if at all possible&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cesareans should be considered carefully, and should only be performed when the life of the mother or child is in immediate danger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the legacy I hope to leave my children as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Happy Mother’s Day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-6823877916046580177?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/6823877916046580177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/05/legacy-my-mother-leaves.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6823877916046580177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/6823877916046580177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/05/legacy-my-mother-leaves.html' title='The legacy my mother leaves'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-480286581038545583</id><published>2008-05-09T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>At da doctor in case your house is on fire</title><content type='html'>This is my daughter discussing what she has been taught about birth. When asked, she says babies come out of the "fer-gina", but if for some reason the baby can't come out of the vagina, the "doctor cuts a hole" for the baby to come out. She also says that we have our babies at home, unless there is an emergency. In her mind, an "emergency" is your house being on fire. So she says, "you have your baby at da doctor in case your house is on fire"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/V5MNuC9lUts&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V5MNuC9lUts&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-480286581038545583?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/480286581038545583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/05/at-da-doctor-in-case-your-house-is-on.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/480286581038545583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/480286581038545583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/05/at-da-doctor-in-case-your-house-is-on.html' title='At da doctor in case your house is on fire'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-2720660928028518729</id><published>2008-05-05T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.842-08:00</updated><title type='text'>International Midwives Day</title><content type='html'>Happy Midwives Day! To celebrate, I am going to show the blogosphere what my midwife did for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a picture of my son and me leaving the hospital. I'm smiling and laughing because I'm so happy to be leaving the hospital with my gut intact. My midwife did that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Becky.SETSOLUTIONS/Desktop/Everything%20Becky%20wants%20to%20save%21/Family%20Pics%20n%20Vids/Caleb2/DSC_3698.JPG" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Becky.SETSOLUTIONS/Desktop/Everything%20Becky%20wants%20to%20save%21/Family%20Pics%20n%20Vids/Caleb2/DSC_3698.JPG" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i31.tinypic.com/13zvb50.jpg" border="0" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the photo montage of Caleb's birth. What a wonderful gift a midwife is!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=2a2bb8fe18cac680275caa" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="408" height="382" wmode="window" allowfullscreen="true" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;amp;p=2a2bb8fe18cac680275caa&amp;amp;skin_id=701&amp;amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:408px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=2a2bb8fe18cac680275caa&amp;amp;skin_id=701&amp;amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/2a2bb8fe18cac680275caa/701.gif" style="border:0px;" width="408" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;amp;utm_medium=txt3" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Make video montages at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-2720660928028518729?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/2720660928028518729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/05/international-midwives-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2720660928028518729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/2720660928028518729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/05/international-midwives-day.html' title='International Midwives Day'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i31.tinypic.com/13zvb50_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-1169229925992712154</id><published>2008-04-26T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On this night</title><content type='html'>On this night, a dear friend of mine is laboring with her second child. She has carried this baby for just over 44 weeks. She has been patient and loving with this baby. We don't know if baby is a boy or girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With her permission, I will post her birth story after it's written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love you, V!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SBPUSsDQJHI/AAAAAAAAAFo/A2TR6NKM-rM/s1600-h/th_prayingforyoucandle.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SBPUSsDQJHI/AAAAAAAAAFo/A2TR6NKM-rM/s320/th_prayingforyoucandle.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193728212815848562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-1169229925992712154?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/1169229925992712154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-this-night.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1169229925992712154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/1169229925992712154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-this-night.html' title='On this night'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SBPUSsDQJHI/AAAAAAAAAFo/A2TR6NKM-rM/s72-c/th_prayingforyoucandle.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5264514979542261581</id><published>2008-04-22T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.872-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the story of my birth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my birthday'/><title type='text'>VBACwarrior's birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0RFqQRk4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/qUk6aiIZIk8/s1600-h/showerpic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 160px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0RFqQRk4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/qUk6aiIZIk8/s320/showerpic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191824734367617922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Following is the story of my birth, told by the woman who did it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;April 21, 1981 at 9:00 am  I walked into the Conerstone Clinic for women only one day before my due date of April 22, 1981.  Dr. Smith came into the room and asked "how are you today?"  My reply was "ready to have this baby."  I had no idea what I was having but I wanted a girl very much. After examining me he estimated another 2 weeks or so. I thought to myself &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;you are crazy I can't wait another 2 weeks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;After all I had gained 30 pounds already.  I was not thinning and not  dilated at all.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I was very upset and went on to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked for 5 doctors who were also anxious to hear my news.  After telling them the news, the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0S16QRk5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/5To5jftnF7A/s1600-h/6cm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 96px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0S16QRk5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/5To5jftnF7A/s320/6cm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191826662807933842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; older doctor pulled me aside and told me to jump rope during my breaks and lunch break.  I thought it was worth a try!  I got off work at 5:00 that evening and went home and fixed dinner,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; cleaned up a bit around the house(nesting) and ate dinner while watching TV.  At about 8:00 I had my first contraction. I believed that this would be like any other night &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0UhqQRk6I/AAAAAAAAAFI/S9lVoQOcVx8/s1600-h/hereIam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 149px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0UhqQRk6I/AAAAAAAAAFI/S9lVoQOcVx8/s200/hereIam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191828513938838434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;of Braxton Hicks but they kept on coming doing the traditional longer, stronger and closer together.  By 9:30 I called my labor coach and best friend who was at work as a labor and delivery nurse in Baptist Hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas.  She wanted me to be checked before she went home.  I went in carrying my pillows and bag just in case.  To my surprise I was 2-3 centimeters and I believe about 50 percent effaced.Wow progress since this morning.  They monitored me for a few minutes and decided I was a keeper.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The worst part of the whole labor was the soap sud enema.  They actually cleaned me out with soap suds.  How humiliating could it get!!! After that, I walked the halls and stopped to breathe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0VtaQRk7I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/qvUxCwljpXA/s1600-h/first+meeting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0VtaQRk7I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/qvUxCwljpXA/s200/first+meeting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191829815313929138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; during the contractions.  By about 4 am I was wearing thin and decided to rest a while in bed. Longer, stronger and closer together they came.  The hee hees were becoming harder and harder to do.  The music I was listening to irritated the heck out of me! The nurse insisted by 5:30 that I try a little Demerol because they thought maybe they could break my water and make it go a little faster for me.  Bam water broke and transition began!!! Oh that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0XKaQRk8I/AAAAAAAAAFY/9EyAHoMsmDk/s1600-h/firstdayhome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0XKaQRk8I/AAAAAAAAAFY/9EyAHoMsmDk/s200/firstdayhome.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191831413041763266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;nasty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; Demerol  I just wanted this to be over now.  When my water was broken there was meconium in the water. It was about 7:45am and they said the lucky number &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;... 10!Now you can push and I said NO NO NO I am afraid they said push now or we  will have to cut you then I said OK.  Three pushes later a beautiful olive complected blonde daughter was born, Rebecca,  at 8:17 am weighing 6lbs 6 1/2 oz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom would go on to have six more children. Her fourth child was born via (true) emergency c-section because of a placental abruption. After that, she had three unmedicated hospital VBACs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0XqKQRk9I/AAAAAAAAAFg/XbNR_IOiZTw/s1600-h/announcement.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0XqKQRk9I/AAAAAAAAAFg/XbNR_IOiZTw/s320/announcement.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191831958502609874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-5264514979542261581?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/5264514979542261581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/vbacwarrior-birthday.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5264514979542261581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/5264514979542261581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/vbacwarrior-birthday.html' title='VBACwarrior&amp;#39;s birthday'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YnAaktpp0uw/SA0RFqQRk4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/qUk6aiIZIk8/s72-c/showerpic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-8258003684140223180</id><published>2008-04-19T17:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.901-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BFAC'/><title type='text'>Birthing Freedom Advocacy Campaign- I need your help!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I am attempting to begin a cesarean awareness campaign via this blog. &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I need a "slogan" for the campaign. It's going to be "one if by ___, two if by ___"  (a play on the Paul Revere "one if by land, two if by sea" story) and I need ideas as to what to fill in the blanks with. Some ideas already suggested are&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;cut/push&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;scalpel/design&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;above/below &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The idea is to have women (and their daughters, friends, mothers, aunts, midwives, etc) from all over the United States (and the world) submit pictures to the blog. Everyone in the pictures should be holding up two fingers (like a "peace" sign). This symbolizes several things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 1. it's the "peace" sign (as in, advocating birthing with gentleness and not violence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 2. It's two fingers, meaning they choose the second choice (two if by____ )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 3. It's a "V" for vaginal birth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 4. It's a "V" for VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'd love to get a birthing freedom version of &lt;a href="http://www.wockyjivvy.com/poetry/acclaim/hwl-revr.html" mce_href="http://www.wockyjivvy.com/poetry/acclaim/hwl-revr.html" target="_blank" title="THIS POEM"&gt;THIS POEM&lt;/a&gt; going. I have stanzas 1 and 13 covered. I just need stanzas 2-12. If you'd like to take a stanza, please send me a  messege letting me know which one, and then send it to me when you're done with it (along with the number stanza you "re-wrote") Here's an example of a re-written first stanza:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Listen my children and you shall hear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the midnight birth of sweet baby dear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;On the fourth of July, in Seventy-five;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Hardly a woman is now alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Who remembers that’s how babies get here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Please send me your ideas in the comments section. Thanks for your help, birthin' mamas!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-8258003684140223180?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/8258003684140223180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/birthing-freedom-advocacy-campaign-i_19.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8258003684140223180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/8258003684140223180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/birthing-freedom-advocacy-campaign-i_19.html' title='Birthing Freedom Advocacy Campaign- I need your help!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-7192709842910665925</id><published>2008-04-19T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.887-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BFAC'/><title type='text'>Birthing Freedom Advocacy Campaign- I need your help!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I am attempting to begin a cesarean awareness campaign via this blog. &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I need a "slogan" for the campaign. It's going to be "one if by ___, two if by ___"  (a play on the Paul Revere "one if by land, two if by sea" story) and I need ideas as to what to fill in the blanks with. Some ideas already suggested are&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;cut/push&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;scalpel/design&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;above/below &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The idea is to have women (and their daughters, friends, mothers, aunts, midwives, etc) from all over the United States (and the world) submit pictures to the blog. Everyone in the pictures should be holding up two fingers (like a "peace" sign). This symbolizes several things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 1. it's the "peace" sign (as in, advocating birthing with gentleness and not violence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 2. It's two fingers, meaning they choose the second choice (two if by____ )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 3. It's a "V" for vaginal birth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 4. It's a "V" for VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'd love to get a birthing freedom version of &lt;a href="http://www.wockyjivvy.com/poetry/acclaim/hwl-revr.html" mce_href="http://www.wockyjivvy.com/poetry/acclaim/hwl-revr.html" target="_blank" title="THIS POEM"&gt;THIS POEM&lt;/a&gt; going. I have stanzas 1 and 13 covered. I just need stanzas 2-12. If you'd like to take a stanza, please send me a  messege letting me know which one, and then send it to me when you're done with it (along with the number stanza you "re-wrote") Here's an example of a re-written first stanza:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Listen my children and you shall hear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the midnight birth of sweet baby dear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;On the fourth of July, in Seventy-five;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Hardly a woman is now alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Who remembers that’s how babies get here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Please send me your ideas in the comments section. Thanks for your help, birthin' mamas!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-7192709842910665925?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/7192709842910665925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/birthing-freedom-advocacy-campaign-i.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7192709842910665925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/7192709842910665925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/birthing-freedom-advocacy-campaign-i.html' title='Birthing Freedom Advocacy Campaign- I need your help!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-9197555329832754563</id><published>2008-04-19T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T17:36:02.917-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the story of my birth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my birth story'/><title type='text'>Stay "tuned" for Tuesday!</title><content type='html'>Coming Tuesday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story of my birth, written by the woman who did it!  You'll find it in my journal post on Tuesday (my birthday!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 27 years ago, in the year 1981. I was the first of what would later be seven children for my mother. She was 23 years old. She labored flat on her back while making herself hyperventilate (Lamaze hee-hee-hoo breathing) and try as she might, looking at a picture of a flower didn't make laboring on her back any easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay "tuned" for the rest of the story on Tuesday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905657459154240355-9197555329832754563?l=refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/feeds/9197555329832754563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/stay-for-tuesday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/9197555329832754563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905657459154240355/posts/default/9197555329832754563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://refusetobeawombpod.blogspot.com/2008/04/stay-for-tuesday.html' title='Stay &amp;quot;tuned&amp;quot; for Tuesday!'/><author><name>Becky</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OFZXM9NRxD0/SM7NzGnZKUI/AAAAAAAAAUM/k_HFglVLhV0/S220/l_99ef816d55608a660f0f0490c478462d.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
