Slow Birth

Slow Birth is ecologically attuned midwifery/doula care with respect to the balance of nature.

Over the years, the Slow Food movement has benefitted from a lot of traction in the sustainable food community. Everyone speaks about slow food, the ecology of mother Earth, where our sacred food comes from, how it’s been cultivated, even the soil composition. The food justice and sustainable food movement prides itself on preserving just food for all.

Because I’m in the birth business, it got me thinking about how this concept applied to a new type of birthing model, one that is ages old but getting lost in the fast-paced world we live in. That concept is slow birth.

Slow Birth references labor and maternal care practices that are respectful and honor the inner ecology of the woman, her sacred anatomy, her innate wild wisdom and her attuned rhythms. It respects that birth can take time.

Like Slow Food, slow birth is about going back to the basics, celebrating what’s natural. That doesn’t mean without sophistication. It does, however, mean listening to the sophisticated rhythms of the body and acknowledging that you don’t always need technological support. The body is highly sophisticated and undergoes a host of processes to bring forth a baby.

The time of birth cannot be predicted, and this phenomenon of uncertainty leaves medical practitioners uneasy. So many women have the experience of being encouraged to take medications to “move things along.” With their haste to speed up their labor via drugs, they alter the woman’s internal hormonal ecology, and she can become disconnected to what is happening in her body and start to mistrust. No one can govern the female body but the woman who lives in that body. When practitioners take a position to modulate the normal course of a woman’s labor (without good reason to do so) they perform an act against nature. The connection to the Slow Food movement is strong here: The widespread use of agro-chemicals in farming are also an act against mother nature.

There is also the issue of unnecessary medical waste that is accumulated as a result of the technocratic birth model (which mirrors the inorganic waste, chemical compounds and natural resources wasted from industrial farming methods). Midwifery care is less expensive and less invasive, and midwives respect the mother/baby dyad. Organic farming is less expensive, uses less energy and the produce tastes better. We have a lot to say about this when it comes to our food, but what about when it comes to our wombs? We have to work with women and their bodies, not against them. We have to work with mother nature’s rhythms, not against them.

In my labor support work as a doula (Greek for “one who serves”), I strive to work with the mother and keep her in the hormonal flow and in a rhythm with her baby. We use breathing techniques, visualization, sound, movement, essential oils and therapeutic touch to help her labor comfortably. When a woman trusts her body and has proper support, she can have an empowering birth – no matter what the outcome. If Slow Food is a movement that takes us back to the land with respect and honor for sustainable food, then Slow Birth takes us back to the womb with respect and honor for the sacred process of birth.

For more information on how to optimize your health, visit TenderShootsWellness.com

Photo credit: bies

How I Finally Learned to Be My Own Best Friend

Kris Carr has taught us a lot about “being your own best friend,” but the concept didn’t click for me until I gave birth to my first child. On that day, I was faced with an experience so intense and immediate that there was nothing to do other than face it. I had to be my own cheerleader so that I didn’t crawl under the bed or dissolve into tears of frustration and fear. Now that I’ve experienced the power of self-motivation and self-comfort, I look within for support (and tough love) for the big and little challenges in life.

I like to be prepared. As soon as I saw those two pink lines, I started reading books, scouring websites, and talking to mothers about pregnancy and childbirth. To be honest, my research had begun months earlier. Everyone told me that I couldn’t fully prepare for childbirth, but I tried my best to prove them wrong. My husband and I took a 12-week Bradley Method childbirth class and we discussed every possible scenario that could occur on the big day. We considered home birth, birthing centers, and the hospital. Once we decided to deliver with a midwife in a hospital setting, we took a tour and wrote our birth plan. I did everything I could to prepare, but when my water broke at 4 a.m. on a Monday morning, my plans started to crumble.

I had envisioned a 100 percent natural birth without an IV or continuous monitoring. Since I was GBS+ and my water had broken without triggering contractions, those two hopes fell apart as soon as we arrived at the hospital. Did I mention that I have a phobia of needles? I also had a fear of hospitals and was convinced that everyone would push pain medication and other interventions on me. Even though I trusted the midwives to support my wishes as much as possible, I was on the defensive with everyone in scrubs as soon as I stepped foot inside the hospital. I had been told that Pitocin was a one-way ticket to an epidural, and here I was getting hooked up to that very drug. I had wanted the option of taking a shower to cope with the pain, but the monitor that would give me that option was broken. Again and again, my “dream” childbirth experience was dismantled.

I was admitted to Labor and Delivery with this laundry list of fears and judgments sitting on my shoulders. As I sat in the room where my baby would be born, I accepted the reality of that moment—I was healthy, the baby was healthy, my husband was by my side, and we would get through this. I affirmed this new belief out loud. I told my husband that, “I am forgetting about what I wanted and working with what is on the table.” I had to let my birth plan go and trust my team if I was going to have a positive birth experience. So, just like that, I did.

Instead of falling apart because of the beeping machines, the irritating IV in my arm and the monitors strapped to my belly, I cheered myself on. I told myself to concentrate on working through one minute at a time and to focus on what I could control. I told myself that I could still give birth without pain medication, I could still take comfort in the amazing support and love of my husband, I could keep the lights dim and listen to my favorite music, and I could embrace the kindness and knowledge of my midwife, nurse, and doula. I had never been so kind to myself or more present.

The inner cheering, encouragement, and kindness continued as my contractions intensified, then during two hours of pushing, and finally through the many weeks of recovery. Not only was I opening my heart and learning to care for my new baby girl, I was also doing the same for myself. If I had shut down because my plans were derailed or because I didn’t believe I could get through the pain and exhaustion, I would have been cheating myself out of learning about self-preservation. Birth wasn’t just about bringing a child into the world; it was also about bringing a new, wiser, stronger me into the world. And since the challenges of motherhood had just begun in the delivery room, I look forward to becoming more of a best friend to myself with each passing day.

Corinne Bowen is a freelance writer and happy vegan, living in a cozy Baltimore rowhouse with her husband, baby girl and two rescue cats.

Six Ways to Ease Your Postpartum Frazzle

Postpartum self-care is an important topic that doesn’t get enough attention. When I was pregnant, nobody really talked about it other than saying, “Make sure you have food in the freezer because you’ll be too tired to cook.” But you know what? There’s more to it.

As my midwife said with a chuckle, “Try getting a one-month postpartum mom to feel sorry for a woman in labor … not gonna happen.” I now understand the sentiment. No doubt there are plenty of women who have wonderful postpartum experiences. In general, however, it can be rough. It’s important to make sure you take care of yourself. Not just for you, but for your baby. Remember, happy mommy equals happy baby (at least for the most part – haha).

Postpartum emotions sweep from one end of the spectrum to the other. Naturally this special time is primarily filled with joy. But it can also be a time of anxiety and stress, particularly for first-time moms. My hormone-soaked emotions took a roller coaster ride shortly after my baby’s birth. Most of the time I was up high as a kite, happy as can be (heck, I had a baby – I was so happy!). But there were also times I was stressed, worrying about all kinds of what-ifs and decisions that would affect my baby. Anxious thoughts crept in from all sides: Why hasn’t her cord stump fallen off yet? Is she eating enough? Why is my boob lumpy? Is she sleeping enough? I hope she doesn’t get sick. Is she getting enough indirect sunlight for her jaundice? For that matter, what the hell is “indirect sunlight” – shade?

And a whole slew of other things.

But perhaps the hardest part was the lack of sleep. I’m breastfeeding on demand, which means living on a 24-hour clock, being sleep-deprived and constantly exhausted (especially the early months – my baby fed every one-two hours it seemed). Extreme fatigue makes everything worse. Normal, trivial problems can become almost unmanageable. Fatigue makes hormone swings feel more intense and shortens your fuse, meaning it takes less to set you off and the bang is louder. But as all new moms do, I made it through, and I’m on the other side. Things are definitely nicer now, allowing me to enjoy motherhood and its magical moments that come every day.

Postpartum Self-Care Tips

So what’s the best way to care for yourself? Here are a few things that helped me.

1. Eat well. Nutrition is important. I didn’t always have time to make food, and my husband was best used for making fruit and veggie runs to the store. The solution: giant smoothies packed with tons of goodies made for super easy and healthy meals. I loaded them with organic fruits, greens, probiotics, nuts or seeds, coconut oil, superfoods, chia or flax seeds, etc. It’s important to keep calories up because you’re burning extra by breastfeeding. I could easily chug down 600 calories in one of my smoothies. It was delicious raw vegan goodness. I also kept fresh fruit, trail mix and other organic snacks on hand at all times.

I also enjoyed Joyful Mother Tea, a blend of teas that support a happy mama and her changing hormones. Better yet, drink a nice cup of tea while you take a bath. Even if it’s only 30 minutes to pamper yourself and relax, do it. The 30 minutes you take for yourself recharges you the remaining 23.5 hours that you need to care for baby.

2. Make a list. Create a list of “must haves” and make sure you have them. These are things that make your life easier. For me it was having a breastfeeding stool to prop my feet on, plenty of organic cloth prefolds lying around ready to wipe baby spit-up, water to drink at various places I nurse, my Kindle with books to read while nursing, a baby rocker/swing chair that can move from room to room where I can place baby while I’m eating, making a smoothie or going to the bathroom. I also had a friend I could go to for support and questions. As a first-time mama, I had tons of questions. Having access to a friend that I could text or e-mail anytime was a life saver. Figure out your must haves and make sure you have them.

3. Relaxing music. Lullabies are a wonderful way to self-care a postpartum mama. I know lullabies are traditionally for the baby, but as a mom, I can’t tell you how nice and relaxing it was to have them playing.

4. Ask for help. Self-care is about taking care of yourself, whether you do it or someone else helps. So please ask for help! Ask for anything and everything. Don’t be afraid to call on your partner, family and friends so that you can focus on baby. Put family and friends to work! Trust me, they want to help.

5. Cry. As much as you want or need. Just let it out. The hormones will probably make you want to wail at least once. Do it. It’s cathartic. Having a baby is life changing. Some of us need to cry at least once during that transition. It’s OK!

6. Baby steps. Your new baby isn’t the only one learning a bunch of new things – you are too. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. Overloading yourself is a recipe for frustration. Learn things one at a time. I concentrated on breastfeeding for several weeks until I had it down just right. Then I worked on babywearing until I was completely comfortable with it. Then I started playing around with cloth diapers. But to learn all of those things at once would have been too much for me, especially as a first-time mom.

By focusing on yourself with just a few of these items, you’ll be in a much better frame of mind. You and your baby will appreciate the difference!

When Your Home Birth Doesn’t Go As Planned

Everyone who follows my blog knows I planned a home birth. “Plan” is the operative word. Even though a home birth was my first choice, my birth plan included backup plans in the event I transferred to the hospital (separate plans for hospital vaginal and C-section deliveries). I imagined the major scenarios, so I wouldn’t be forced to make difficult decisions under the duress of labor or in an emergency.

On Thursday night, I started dripping water, no gush like you see in the movies. An hour later, I started to feel light contractions. I continued to labor. It wasn’t bad either. Kind of fun. We had the lights off except for the orange glow of the salt lamp. I had soft ambient music playing. In addition to my husband, I had a crew of women there: mom, mom-in-law, three midwives and two doulas.

In hindsight, I’m not sure it was best to have so many people attending my birth. I wonder if having so many eyes on me was unnerving and delayed my labor. I was excited for everyone to arrive, but I noticed that my labor slowed down once it wasn’t just me, Greg and my mom. I’ve read this can happen in the hospital because of bright lights, rotation of doctors/nurses, etc., but I didn’t expect it with my birth team, in my own home.

Before I knew it, many hours passed. But during that time I was cruising right along, doing hypnobirthing, handling the contractions. Then something changed. The labor became agonizingly, torturously painful. Friday morning turned into afternoon, and I was experiencing hour after hour of excruciating pain that was becoming impossible to handle. The hypnobirthing techniques?  Not a chance. I tried a bathtub of warm water … didn’t help. I tried different positions … didn’t help. I began to fear something was going terribly wrong. It was then that I started contemplating going to the hospital.

As my intuition continued to scream at me that I needed to go to the hospital, I hate to say this: I was afraid to tell my birth team. Afraid of looking like a wimp, of letting them down, or of making them think they had let me down. Finally, I got the courage to say it. (With the benefit of hindsight, I realize I should’ve never felt ashamed for wanting to go the hospital, but my home birth had meant so much to me, and such a radical change takes time to process.)

My instincts told me something wasn’t right. My birth crew tried to talk me out of transferring, told me that everything I was feeling was normal. My husband looked worried though; he knew how badly I wanted a home birth and that something was probably not right. At this point, my midwife checked my dilation and found that I was only four centimeters! In that instant I knew that I had to go to the hospital. Knowing that I might not even be halfway there, with many more hours of hell to go was all it took for us to switch to Plan B. My midwife seemed surprised by my lack of progress and supported my choice to go, but technically, this wasn’t an emergency transfer. Instead of transferring to the nearby hospital 15 minutes away, we opted to transfer to a hospital 45 minutes away, but much friendlier toward home birth transfers. Most of all, it had lower C-section rates.

At the hospital it was another agonizing hour until I received pain relief, which by then was an incredibly easy decision. At that moment, my concern was for getting my baby born and being helped to do it. Two days before, I would’ve never dreamed I’d accept drugs for pain, but when new information presented itself, I knew I had to be flexible. My overriding concern at that point was to have a vaginal birth, not a C-section. That would require all of my strength. After being relocated from triage to my comfortable delivery room and receiving pain medication, everything was better. I was able to relax a bit, to be myself again. I was able to focus on my baby.

In spite of my previous concerns about hospital births, this experience largely proved me wrong, and tells me that not all hospitals are the same … in fact, far from it! At the hospital, I started to relax, get rest, and I was able to eat. Yes, eat. The hospital did allow that. In fact, my doctor brought me food! My labor was still long once I was at the hospital (about 12 hours more), but it was more manageable. When the time came for pushing, the epidural had mostly worn off, and it was hard work, but without pain. When Kamea came out … that part wasn’t painful at all. It was super cool.

For the past year, I’ve been hard on hospitals for birth. I’ve learned that not every hospital deserves that. The hospital we chose was amazing. They explained the different options I had through every step. They encouraged breastfeeding. They answered my questions. They were patient. They accepted my birth team and collaborated with my midwife, who was my staunch advocate. They respected my birth plan. They didn’t pressure me with anything (except for one formula-pushing nurse). The attending doctor even said something in front of his staff that amazed me: “We doctors could learn a few things from midwives.”

What I’ve walked away with is this: I had the chance to experience part of a home birth, as well as a hospital birth. The birth team believes that Kamea was presenting with her elbow in the up position, explaining the slow progress and extreme pain. I suspect if Kamea didn’t have an elbow up, my labor would’ve progressed faster and might not have been as painful. But she did. And as her mom, I made decisions that I didn’t expect to make, but I was happy to make them. They felt right in my gut. And the other thing I learned: Don’t be afraid of the hospital if that’s the route you need to go, yet you had planned a home birth. Choose a hospital that is midwife-friendly, if possible. Otherwise be sure to have your birth team there to advocate on your behalf.

I wonder if the labor was protracted because she just wasn’t ready to come out. Three days prior to my water breaking, I took measures to “support labor starting.” I underwent two aggressive acupuncture treatments. I now wish I hadn’t done that. I wish I had let Kamea come on her own time. I did it because she was almost two weeks past due, after which my midwife technically wasn’t allowed to do the delivery. Because I wanted a home birth, I was willing to speed things. I wonder if this contributed to my long labor.

In the end, I have a happy, healthy baby (that’s what matters), and I love her so much!

Is Your House Ready for Guests?

My son — a very important guest to us — was born last month. For nine months, my wife and I had been asking ourselves: Will our house be clean and ready for his arrival?

Before this, I’ve been working at cleaning the planet (one person/body at a time) telling anyone who would listen that what is making everybody sick isn’t bad genes, bad luck or bad karma. It’s bad food and lots of toxins. And while this is all true for normal day-to-day life, there was suddenly added urgency because such a precious guest seemed to require some extra special cleaning.

These are some of the questions we asked in preparation of our son’s birth:

-What is clean nutrition during pregnancy?
-Should Mama take supplements; which ones?
-Are there any toxins in Mama’s body that need our attention and/or action; should either of us do a detox   program?
-Should we have sonograms?
-What cosmetics should Mama use to avoid toxic chemicals absorbed through the skin?
-Should we get induced if we are past the due date?
-Should we get an epidural?
-Where should the birth be, how and with whom?
-What clothes should we get him?
-What vaccines (if any) should he get?
-Should we breastfeed?

The list goes on and on. This is what we ended up doing:

Mama ate mostly from the Clean Program’s Elimination Diet: mostly vegetarian (99% organic, 60% in season, local and 50% raw), some free-range, organic chicken, occasional grass-fed red meat and no fish (to avoid mercury and parasites).

We decided on absolutely no full-blown cleansing while pregnant or breastfeeding to protect our son from exposure of re-circulating toxins, which is common when the body is detoxing. Mama may have had toxins in her system, but she had no symptoms and never really gets sick, so we decided not to test for anything.

We had only five sonograms during the whole pregnancy and did not “need” any more because everything was always perfect. Mama nagged me about turning the Wi-Fi off when not in use (I don’t know enough about those effects to disagree or give it that much importance).

She only used cosmetics without petrochemicals, preservatives, coloring agents or anything remotely processed. We filtered our kitchen, drinking and shower water to avoid chlorine and many other toxins commonly present in tap water today (medications, sediment, toilet paper particles, heavy metals).

We went one week past our due date, refusing any form of inducing intravenously, even a swipe. Instead, Mama had acupuncture a few times, exercised as much as her body said was okay, and we had lots of sex. Mama had one glass of wine during the lunch hours before labor started as our midwife said she could. We chose to have the birth in a midwifery room attached to a modern hospital with top neonatologists. The birth was natural, under water, without an epidural, but instead with Mama, Papa, midwife, and doula.

So far we have decided not to vaccinate him for at least one month and are only giving him vitamin K to avoid bleeding as he will be circumcised. (This is a tough decision and we are researching voraciously, so any tips are welcome!)

We are avoiding any clothing made of synthetic fibers and not using fire retardant mattresses, which may very possibly increase the chance of sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS). Mama took prenatal vitamins, fish oils, probiotics, calcium, magnesium, selenium, lots of green juices, and yes, we are breastfeeding for at least nine months.

We welcomed our son into as clean a world as we could provide. Through this example of the arrival a very special guest (arguably the most special), you get an idea of how complex it is to be a good host in our modern world.

But, even if you weren’t expecting guests, wouldn’t you want to answer these questions for yourself?