Well now I’m not really sure if it was ovulation. I mean, it sure felt like it… but the OPK this morning was pretty dark. An *almost* positive. I thought you ovulated like a good 24 hours after your surge? My first positive wasn’t until yesterday morning.

I mean, it’s basically academic because the fact is ovulation will occur either today or tomorrow, so what does it matter? But you know me. I need to take things apart and figure it out. lol

So apparently I’m ovulating. Like, right now. Just laying in bed chatting and stuff and ow! A few minutes later, ow again. Left ovary. When they said you could feel it more after giving birth, they weren’t kidding. Other than my clomid/IVF cycles – where I had a ton of stuff going on in my ovaries – normally I could sometimes feel something that, maybe, possibly, might be ovulation. But this is like someone taking my ovary and thwacking it with their thumb and forefinger. Multiple times. Last cycle I was at the grocery store when it happened, and I hunched over the bar of my cart for a few moments. And then grinned because HELLO EGG!! So exciting. (Don’t worry, the excitement wears off quickly.)

::

You know what else is different? Cravings. As in, I have HUGE CRAVINGS now. Way worse than when I was pregnant. I’m telling people it’s because my body shunned chocolate for almost my entire pregnancy… now it’s trying to make up for it. I’m trying to lose weight, so this is really not great timing on my body’s part. And it has to be sweets, too.

::

I have some photos to share.

This is my belly 3 months after giving birth. (Well, 15 weeks to be exact.) I walked away looking pretty damn good, in my opinion. No stretch marks on the belly. No real wrinkling or anything going on… just a little doughy. You can still see my linea nigra lightly running from my belly button down.

Alas, the side view is not so impressive. Actually, looking at my photos, it doesn’t look all that different from the pics I took at 4 weeks post-partum. But I’m working on it.

::

And lastly, to close out the post, some photos of me and my cats… because, well, they were there when I was taking photos. And apparently they were not impressed at all by my decision to scoop them up.

Merlin’s face in that last one just cracks me up.

After a week of testing with OPKs I finally got a positive one this morning – ovulation is forthcoming. ‘Course I could have told you that because of my CM, but a little confirmation makes me obsess less about reading the signs right. I’m still a little shocked that my body is actually producing an LH surge that is being picked up by OPKs… I had rotten luck with them before.

Here’s this months OPKs all lined up.

Last month I ovulated on about cycle day 23. This month it appears I’ll be ovulating on either cycle day 18 or 19. This is progress, and I am pleased.

Just for shits and giggles I plugged friday into a due date calculator to see where it would land me. March 20. Which would place Devin’s birthday smack at 38 weeks. And Den’s birthday is 3 days after the due date. So would I be thrilled to get pregnant this month? Absolutely. But, for mental health reasons regarding the timing, if I don’t get pregnant I won’t be too upset either. I’m letting the universe take care of the timing on this one.

::

Last night I was laying in bed trying to sleep, my thought processes immersed in plans for TTC, what I’ll do when I’m pregnant, and feeling frustrated about being in limbo.

It hit me then that I’m right smack in the middle of it all again. The TTC obsession. The planning sex and plotting dates and wondering and worrying and waiting. When I realized that I just had this flash of overwhelming frustration. For a moment I actually had a desire to go backwards in time to when I was grieving more, grieving enough that I couldn’t think of anything but surviving… that I felt lost and adrift and was starting to shift my focus to things like hobbies and work. There was nothing else then, and I had to find something new. But at least it was new! At least it was something external, out in the world. Now I’m right back where I fucking started, and I am not happy about it. I don’t know how to TTC without surrounding myself with it all. There’s a part of me that enjoys it.

It’s a timesink, and it’s deceiving. You start putting things off because “next month I might be pregnant.” You plan around things just in case. You put your heart on your sleeve every month, anticipating, being disappointed.

I’m glad my cycle took as long as it did to return. I was still in limbo, but at least it was a quiet limbo. No ripples, no worries. Just existing. I guess my body knew what was best for me.

So ever since we lost Devin you know that I’ve wanted to get pregnant again right away. (No I’m not pregnant, so you can stop getting excited about that – I haven’t even ovulated yet damnit.) But I could only ever picture having a girl. Sometimes I think about how I’ll decorate the room for a little girl, what kind of person she’ll be. It seems easy enough to picture myself with a little girl. It was NOT easy for me to picture myself with a little boy that was not Devin. I couldn’t really think about it. Oh, we’ve been tossing names around (since Devin was the only boy’s name we’ve ever agreed on, so I was kind of in an “oh crap, what do we do now?” space about names), and we may have settled on one… but actually using it? Picturing the baby that could use that name? Not happening. Devin was my little boy, my only little boy, and I wanted him, not some other boy.

Today I was just flipping around online looking for baby bedding – looking for Devin’s set to see if there’s anywhere I can buy just the quilt (so far no luck). I also looked at girls bedding a little bit, to see what’s out there and feel a little warmth in thinking about having a daughter someday, which I am convinced will happen. (Sometimes I find it a little strange that I can do that… look up baby stuff. And not get upset. But I do, more and more frequently. It’s okay because I am just waiting for my next chance.)

Then just for the hell of it I looked for boy’s bedding to see what else was out there. I will not be using what I chose for Devin for another little boy – I decided that even before I found out it was discontinued. A new boy deserves a new theme, new bedding. I’m going to re-use a lot of the stuff we got for Devin, as the intent was always to use most the baby gear for more than one child. But the bedding? The bedding is special, and I always intended to do a different room theme for each child… that’s just how I am.

So there I was, looking at different boy’s bedding. And that’s when it hit me: I feel okay about this. I was actually thinking about Lucas (yes, that’s the name – it’s not set in stone yet) using it. Lucas, not Devin. Holy crap. Holy crap.

Out of nowhere I feel like I turned another corner… pressed on a scar and it no longer hurt. I think I’m going to cry simply out of relief. I’m going to be okay someday… I really am.

Know that feeling when a thought hits you square between the eyes?

I was sitting here looking at someone else’s baby bedding (yes, I can now do that without too much issue – I like to look at the girl bedding), and I was thinking about Devin’s bedding. I loved it so much. It had sheep on it. I don’t think I’d use it for another child – but you never know.

But… I never ordered it. I never got around to it… it was at the end of my list, as he wasn’t going to be using his crib for a while, and the nursery wasn’t even started yet. I was sad for a moment.

And that’s when it hit me between the eyes. I thought: well, why not buy it now? Why not buy the quilt to hold in my hand, to hang on my wall? YES!

I just looked it up and the bedding has been discontinued! :( I’m going to have to find it somewhere online… I’m sure I can find it somewhere… Shit shit shit.

ETA: Can’t find it, everyone’s out of stock. BUT I remembered that one of my friends bought for Devin the wall hanging from the set. It’s the only piece we got. But it has the sheep on it, and the stars. I feel relieved. I think I’ll dig them out of storage tomorrow, and maybe put them up on our wall.

ETA: This is the set: Sweet Vanilla. I only want the quilt. I checked ebay, no quilt there. :(

You know, I’m really glad that I’ve been getting positive feedback about my writing about birth because I’m very nervous about upsetting people. The last thing I want to do is make someone feel bad about their medically necessary C-section, or to feel like a failure because she was induced. That’s not my intent here.

G wrote in her comment, “I can’t help but think that I don’t really care how the baby gets here. As long as he comes out alive.” And that really is the crux of the matter. It’s something that I am now really struggling with, because the two sides of me don’t seem to be thinking alike. The side of me that still views birth as a wonderful event, a gift, thinks how the baby gets here DOES matter. It is not THE most important thing, but it matters. But the other side of me, the mother of a stillborn, thinks we should just be getting the baby OUT. Just get it out as soon as possible! Alive! And stop whining and worrying about the rest!

But I think we miss the boat if we only worry about the most important thing. To me it’s like worrying only about the foundation of your house. If the foundation is crumbling, no amount of paint and furnishings and artwork is going to fix it, and it’s certainly not a good idea to worry about which artwork you have on the wall if the foundation has fallen apart. But for the most part, for most of us, the foundations are holding strong. And wouldn’t it be a sad life if we all just sat around patching up our foundations? If we didn’t bother with the other stuff because it wasn’t fundamental?

And I think, to some degree, those other things are fundamental to us, to our spirit. We need meaningful things in our lives. And no, not everyone wants nice artwork. Some of us want lots of flowers in our homes. Some of us don’t really matter what’s on the wall as long as we have music playing. But I think we should at least have the option of artwork, and flowers, and music, so that we can choose what we want in our life. And if you’ve never experienced it before maybe you should try it if you can, see if you do like it, see if it means something to you.

Not everyone wants a natural birth. For some people it just doesn’t matter. And not everyone has the option of a natural birth, sometimes there are medical impediments. But all I’m saying is that we should protect our right to have it, to try it. We should be encouraged to try it, told we can do it if we want to. So many people in our society don’t even know it’s an option. Their caregivers tell them they require IVs, or require being in bed the entire time, they look surprized and confused when asked about it. Their families tell them they’re foolish to even try, and laugh at them.

And sometimes it doesn’t work out when we do try it. One of the hardest things seems to be finding the balance between being dedicated to a natural birth and being accepting when things don’t go to plan. It’s a delicate balance, and hard to find. If you aren’t sure of yourself and that you really want to do it, chances are you will find yourself wavering in the middle of labor. You really do have to be sure of your choice. But on the other hand you cannot be so set on what you want that you can’t accept diverging from the course. Feeling that if you ended up in c-section that you “failed.” Or if you got an epidural that you weren’t “strong enough.” You always always have to remember that, despite the best-laid plans, mother nature follows her own path. You need to have a healthy amount of respect for what is out of your control. You make choices that affect the outcome: your mental preparation and training, the people you surround yourself with during your birth, your location/hospital. All these choices play a part in the grand scheme of things and are very important, and deserve your time and energy in making them. But once the game is in motion you have to trust that you did the best you could and things will play out how they will, and simply make the best decisions for what is in front of you. It is too late to second-guess, to place blame.

This is something I am going to struggle with, I can tell you that right now. Last time was so fucked up that I didn’t go into the labor room with the intention of a natural birth, it just turned out that way, for which I am grateful. But next time? Next time will be different. Next time will be “normal.”

Every labor is unique. You may have a posterior baby; your membranes might rupture before labor starts; you might have a very long labor, or very short, strong one; you might have back labor… none of which you can know in advance (with the exception of baby position – you might know that one in advance, but babies can and do turn at the last minute). What kind of labor your friend had, your mother hand, even you had in previous pregnancies, don’t really mean much when you come right down to it. I’m still hoping that my first labor is an indicator of how my second one will go, but light knows it’s far from any sort of guarantee. They’re all different. They all have curveballs. I sure as hell didn’t expect to be induced, or to have a very short labor. Either one of those could have totally thrown me, had I not already been in shock at the other circumstances.

Of course the most important thing is having a live, healthy baby. But I believe that, with proper monitoring and good birth attendants, I can have that and the birth experience I want. I do not see them as mutually exclusive at all. Is one more important? Absolutely. I will throw my birth plan under the train if my baby is in danger. I am going to be worried sick, and probably completely paranoid. I have my own demons to face – it is going to be a hard journey, and I know that, I accept that.

But I can have hope, too.

The other day I had a moment of such peace and tranquility. I was laying in bed and I just felt like everything was going to be okay. I don’t know if that means that this is going to be our month, or if it’s close, or even if it just means that I’m coming to terms with things. But it sure felt good to feel that way, if only for a short moment.

I am getting further away from the “how it was supposed to be” feelings. It’s not that I think it was “supposed” to happen like this – how could I, my baby is dead – but it’s sort of settled into an acceptance of the situation. As life progresses and I continue to work Devin into my life I am kind of getting used to this idea of having had a stillborn baby… it’s becoming the “new normal.” It doesn’t seem quite so traumatic anymore. I think I’m coming to terms with Devin being who he is, not who he was supposed to be. For a long time I was just so overwhelmed with this feeling of injustice, picturing Devin as a newborn, as a live baby, raising him. Those thoughts still hurt so deeply, when I think of them – but I think of them less. When Den and I talk of the future we talk of future babies and the plans we have for them, just as we once talked about Devin. We talk about Devin in terms of memories of his pregnancy and how he is in our lives now: his pictures, his tree, his place in our family as firstborn. Those are the things he will always be, the things we will always have.

And I am thankful. Thankful that I am slowly healing. Thankful that it doesn’t hurt like a hot poker in my chest every single day. These are the days that I promised myself would come again. This is not joy, but it is peace. Half of the equation. Half of living. I still have a long ways to go – I don’t always want to live a half-life. But progress is being made, and that makes me believe I will find the other half someday.

::

I do, however, get extremely cranky sometimes. Low on patience, low on tolerance. For all I talk about being accepting and supportive, sometimes my thoughts are far, far from it. I just get so angry sometimes. But my eyes are rather tainted right now. I have a hard time telling when I’m upset because of my recent loss, if I’m upset because I feel like my opinions/preferences are being threatened, or if I’m upset for some sort of rational reason. Sometimes my grief strikes in rather irrational ways. I just try to rein myself in, take some deep breaths, and find something else to do… and remind myself to be fair.

And I get just so frustrated, so worn down, by the constant negativity and bad stories. You all know how I feel about labor and birth, so it’s just hard to hear again and again women talked into inductions, ending up in c-sections. Whose to say if they were necessary or not? Some of them most certainly were. But I swear it seems like EVERYONE I know that has had a baby recently has had a c-section, and it’s depressing. And I just feel like crying, I really do – crying FOR them. Is it the worst thing to happen? Absolutely not. But I just keep seeing the snowball effect… over and over again. I rarely rarely see anyone attempt an intervention-free birth, much less actually achieve one. It’s really no wonder that when I announced I was going to have a natural childbirth no one thought it was possible.

Oh, and as a side rant (well not really a rant, more like a… frustration). I’m watching season one of Lost and someone gives birth to a baby in it. And it was very hard trying to prevent my eyeballs from rolling back into my head while I watched. The good doctor’s advice to the person who had to deliver the baby was to wait until the contractions were 60 seconds apart, then tell her to push. And when she did just that, she was just pushing when the clueless person told her to. Oh for heaven’s sake. And when she pushed, she was screaming. Dude, if you’re screaming you aint pushing right. (But of course, a birth scene wouldn’t be complete without screaming. No one would believe it otherwise!) And what about the important parts… you know, delivering the placenta, how to tie off the umbilical cord? The last thing you want is for clueless people to be going “OH MY GOD what do we do with THIS?!” Would it have killed them to actually look up what a birth progresses like?

Interesting factoids about my labor:
* My labor was 6 hours long, from start of induction to birth. And I was 0cm when we started.
* My contractions never really hurt until I hit transition. They were strong, and they required all of my concentration to breathe through (at least at the end they did – at the start they didn’t), but as long as I kept on top of them and didn’t tense up I was fine.
* I didn’t scream. I panted and whimpered and kept saying “I can’t, I can’t,” at one point, but no screaming. Den even told me so. I don’t even think I moaned very much. I guess I’m a silent laborer.
* My “transition” lasted for I think 2 contractions. Possibly 1. So a couple of minutes total. That was the point where I said, “I can’t, I can’t.”
* When you don’t have an epidural and you have to push? YOU HAVE NO CHOICE. My body was getting that baby out with or without me. I HAD to push or it hurt so very much.
* I was prepared for a very long labor, with hours of HARD labor. If I had gone into labor like that at home I would have completely missed getting to the hospital, without a single doubt. By the time I realized I was in full labor I was about 15-30 minutes from delivering. (And the hospital is 30 minutes away.) Next time I plan on going to the hospital immediately, just in case it follows the same order as last time.

It was crazy. So not what I expected.

Sometimes I look at my life and think that I was just not meant for the traditional route.

I have been continuing to learn and reflect on birth, with my eventual eye on becoming a doula. I’ve been paying close attention to those online friends of mine who attempt a natural birth, especially those who hire a doula. I read their birth stories with a different set of eyes than I would otherwise. I ask myself, would I do that? Would I enjoy it? Would I be helpful? Is this something I want to pursue? The answer continues to be “yes.” Not now, maybe not next year. But someday, maybe. An option. Something pulls me in that direction.

I am one to follow my passions. Currently I work with animals, an employee for a non-profit. I don’t get paid very much, and I spend far more time there than what I get paid for. But I’m doing meaningful work. I enjoy it. People who work for shelters and rescues aren’t there to get rich or famous. They’re there because they truly believe in what they do. Even if it’s not sure it’s something I want to continue for the rest of my life, and I know it alone is never going to be enough to maintain the income we need, I feel like I’ve found my place there for the time being.

And maybe it’s unfair to say that I’m the kind of person who is passionate and driven by her heart. Maybe everyone wants to be, but doesn’t have the means to do so. I know I am very lucky to be allowed to find my own way. My husband supports me, both financially and emotionally, and I know how lucky I am for that. Very few people can choose to work just part-time, doing what they love to do… to pursue entrepreneurship, to pursue something like being a doula where the hours and income are unpredictable.

But what does it say about me that I like these types of jobs? The kind that require creativity and passion and emotional connection…. the kind that requires your whole heart, not just “in it to get through.” You don’t want a doula or a midwife you doesn’t love what they do… who says to you, “Well, I needed a part-time job, and I don’t really LIKE babies, but I deal.” That would be a FAIL. (And, not surprizingly, that’s why I’m currently failing at being an entrepreneur. I’m finding that my heart isn’t really in it… I’m doing something wrong, or it’s simply not what I should be doing with my life.)

I find I just don’t do well at anything in life that requires the polite, cordial, removed relationships that you get in most jobs. I really don’t do any kind of relationship where “How are you doing?” is required to be answered with some polite, not-to-deep response. I’ve always kind of lived with the motto of, “If you ask me how I’m doing you’d better be prepared to get the truth.” And I DO understand that there are a lot of situations that is simply not what happens. When a cashier asks how I am, I say, “Good,” with a smile. But that’s not someone I will likely see again, it’s not someone with whom I have any sort of personal relationship. But if you want in my life? If you want to have any kind of ongoing relationship with me? Then I want all-in. I want to know what makes you tick, I want to know when it’s good and when it’s bad, I want to be let in. And I give the same in return.

It took me years to figure that out. I used to be an extremely quiet, socially awkward person. I felt like I never knew what to say, and I was terrified of saying the wrong thing… so I said nothing at all. I knew that there were social rules to be followed, even (maybe especially?) among school-age kids. You say this to this person and that to that person… It’s no wonder I spent my free time in the library reading. Among family, too, I was extremely quiet. My mom made it very clear to us that we were to keep our opinions to ourselves at all times. You were to be polite, friendly and respectful. And I agree that one should be polite and respectful (if the person you are talking to is deserving of respect). But I think what my mom missed the boat on was teaching us how to express our opinions respectfully, rather than hiding them. It bothered me. It bothered me a lot. I hated having to subjecate my beliefs and feelings for someone else’s. So I simply avoided dealing with people. It seemed safest in all respects. I learned my own way of it later.

Blogging is what really taught me so much about myself; it also taught me how to function around others in a way that was both appropriate and true to myself. Yes, there are social rules to follow in order to keep harmony. But you don’t have to hide who you are to do so. I have carried all that I have learned online into my dealings with family and friends outside of the internet. I think it’s really helped me to find a stable ground within myself.

At work I have developed a good friendship with my coworker/supervisor, and I am pretty friendly with my boss as well, though we have less contact and there is a different dynamic there. But without those connections I doubt I’d still be there.

I think that’s a good part of why being a doula is so attractive to me. It’s me saying to someone, I will be there for you. I will guide you, teach you. But most of all I will listen to you. I will understand you. I will stand with you on the most important day of your life, when you are most vulnerable. I will not judge you. I believe in you. The very nature of the job is to connect with a person on a deep level, to establish a bond of trust.

The need for it says something about us as humans. Those bonds are fundamental and necessary. The act of birthing brings us back to our most basic needs… our true selves.

You now, I had a whole nother rant written up earlier today and I ended up stalling out in the middle of it. Don’t you hate that?

In the course of my rant-writing (which I usually accompany with much article-searching online) I found this article. Not exactly what I was looking for, eh? But it does make you think. A very interesting point about the WHO’s recommendation of no more than a 15% c-section rate – it appears to be an arbitrary number. Anyone have any explanation for the 15?

One thing that definitely troubles me about all the articles and data out there is the very real issue of under- and mis-reporting deaths. A baby who lives for several hours, but is reported as a stillbirth, for instance. I know that there is much MUCH missing data about stillbirths. Which is why, when asked if we wanted an autopsy to be done on Devin, we both said yes without hesitation. And no, I’ve never had regrets about that. Partially because I am not a religious or very spiritual person, so I don’t get bogged down in really worrying about happens to a person after they’re dead. But mainly because we wanted to know what happened, and we both feel very very strongly about research. You can’t solve the problem if you don’t know what the problem is. And no one is going to be able to prevent stillbirths from happening if we (people in general, that is – doctors, scientists, analysts, society) don’t know what’s causing them.

But anyways. It doesn’t feel like the AMA is trying very damn hard to protect their patients. If they wanted to protect patients they should be trying harder to make homebirth as safe as possible. By making it illegal for midwives to attend (which is very much the case in several states in the U.S. right now) women are forced to decide between a hospital birth or an unassisted homebirth. I bet a whole lot of those women would prefer to have a medical professional there and ready. To make choices by what’s BEST for them, not out of fear.

I hate that so many childbirth decisions are based on fear. So many of the women I know – family members, friends – when they talk about childbirth, whether it’s expected in the near future or not for a long time, say, “Oh I’m definitely getting an epidural… the pain scares me!” with a shudder. That troubles me. I honestly feel like they aren’t giving themselves the benefit of the doubt. Now if someone decides to get an epidural because they’re exhausted, or because they feel it will help labor progress, or like in my case where I wanted one because I was dealing with so much emotionally I just didn’t want to deal with one more thing, okay. I can respect that. But to decide simply because you’re afraid of the alternative? That makes me sad.

So it makes me extremely angry when I see scare tactics being used. On EITHER side. I get frustrated when I see people – or organizations – warning against home birth because it’s “dangerous” and “selfish” and whatver other mud they want to sling at it. If it truly was so damn dangerous you wouldn’t be seeing other countries doing it so successfully.

On the flip side, I’ve seen homebirth advocates being extremely nasty and negative towards hospitals… that checking into a hospital is as good as signing away your labor and all the nurses are plotting against you and you will be miserable and NEVER be able to have a positive experience there. (I had to be very careful about where I mentioned that I was planning for a natural birth in a hospital, because oh the negativity!) Does being in a hospital increase your chances for unnecessary interventions? Absolutely, I’ve seen plenty of evidence to support that. I also think that it IS possible to have a positive hospital experience. But you are not going to get it going in shooting daggers at everyone, not trusting your caregivers. You have to do your research. You have to choose a hospital that has a good track record, and good policies in place. You have to have a doctor/midwife that you really trust to take care of you. The last thing you want to be doing when you’re in labor is fighting with anyone about things, and I think it’s very important to have someone you trust taking care of you so that when they say something is wrong you will believe them.

Give me the facts. Let people make an informed decision. And then support them. If I know a friend made an informed decision and is aware of her options then I will stand by her and support her, even if it’s not what I would have chosen for myself. I feel like us women are not only being sold short by many medical professionals who think that our bodies and our minds can’t handle birthing, but also by other women who nit pick and judge and drag each other down.

Birth should be the most wonderful, empowering experience of your life. I am so very, very sad when I see women whose choices have been taken from them. And I am not talking about honest medical emergencies. I am obviously very well aquainted with situations far beyond your control. But no PERSON should be making decisions for you, limiting what you can do. They shouldn’t be saying, “No, you can only stay in bed because it’s the easiest way for us,” or, “We have to augment you because you’re progressing too slowly.” Those aren’t medically necessary, and they remove one’s choice. Same with where to give birth. It should never be dictated by what’s convenient for a doctor. (I seriously have just heard several stories where someone who was fully dialated was told to stop pushing because the doctor wasn’t there yet. My reply was, “WHAT?!” Then someone else catches the baby! Trying to force the labor process to accomodate someone is rediculous! My second comment was, “If they had told that to me I would have kicked someone and said tough shit.” I guess with epidurals you have the option of just not pushing. I had no such option. My body was pushing, ready or not! It really makes me think that the prevalence of epidurals have made doctors a little too complacent.)

I hate that the AMA is further fracturing the system. I have friends in the Netherlands and other areas of Europe where homebirth is very much the norm. Low-risk pregnancies are attended by Midwives, usually in a homebirth. Higher risk pregnancies are transferred to a doctor who specializes in high-risk pregnancies and deliveries, and the baby is delivered in a hospital. To me it seems like a lovely balance, both sides working together in harmony to do accomplish the goal. Doctors do what they are good at, midwives do what they are good at, and by and large babies are born healthy (from all the reading I’ve done, the Netherlands has a much lower maternal and perinatal/neonatal mortality rate than we do here in the U.S.). And to me that’s worth taking a good look at. Something they are doing is working. We could be using all our medical know-how and technology in a positive way, using those positive examples to learn from and model. But what are they doing instead? Moving in the opposite direction. WTF? Makes me want to beat my head against the damn wall.

::

Today as I was leaving for work the mailman delivered our mail. Among it was yet another pregnancy magazine. I subscribed to several of them when I was newly pregnant, and I’m still getting them. When I came home from the hospital after delivering Devin I had a stack of pregnancy magazines, lovingly saved. I boxed them all up and gave them to my SIL. After that when they would come I’d place them face-down on the table. Then later I would just refuse to think about it, letting the thoughts slide past my conciousness as I deposited the magazine in the trash bin never to be thought of again.

Today, for the first time, I looked at the magazine cover briefly and didn’t feel the urge to stuff the thing in some hidden niche of my car so I wouldn’t have to think about it. In fact, I think I smiled a little bit. I might tuck the magazine away somewhere, for next time I get pregnant.

Of course I stopped reading the damn things months before we lost Devin because I discovered they are generally full of bullshit and ads, but you know. It’s one of the little things that makes pregnancy feel a little more real.

::

Two completely random items. No, three.

I did mention that my belly button has regained its senses, right? Yeah. I really really enjoyed it being numb. Damn thing.

I still have my linea nigra. It seemed so much darker after I gave birth! But then I realized that was probably because the darkest part is on the bottom half of my belly. And, umm, I couldn’t really see that when I was pregnant. Now I can see it all, and it’s still very much there. A little lighter, I think. It’s kind of amusing.

And lastly, remember my unicorn explanation? Well someone gave me a link to this news article. Think it’s a sign? lol (Seriously, if I get pregnant this month the poor kid will never live it down.)

To all those “friends” who said the key to getting pregnant was to get drunk (obviously not my online friends, since you all are far too intelligent to say something so retarded to an infertile), cheers! I’m obviously well on my way to being knocked up! (In reality I’m just trying to “enjoy” all the vodka that was in our cupboard before such time as I can’t drink again. But maybe it’ll have some mystical properties I don’t know about. I won’t complain.)

This article just pisses me RIGHT OFF.

That is such BULLSHIT. First of all, what SHOULD BE the most important point here: hospital births are not safer for a low-risk pregnancy! (1 2) There have been NO studies that show that hospital births are safer. It *feels* safer. It should be safer. But the United States – which has more hospital births than almost all other first-world countries – ranks #42 in terms of infant mortality rates. One would think, since we have all this technology and super hospital stuff to rely upon, it would rank better than all those developed countries who depend heavily on midwives and support homebirths.

But that’s not what pisses me off (not today, at least). What pisses me off is that the AMA is trying to take our choices away. They are trying to make it illegal to give birth at home. Even supported by a well-educated, experienced midwife. THAT pisses me off. Who the fuck are they to make the decisions for us? People are allowed to smoke during pregnancy, to make very poor choices – KNOWN poor choices, as supported by research!! – and yet giving birth at home, a decision made for all the RIGHT reasons (in most cases), they are trying to make illegal?? Who the hell are they protecting? Their pocketbooks? Their reputation?

And I’m not fighting for myself. I suggested to Den, once upon a time, that we could consider a homebirth for the next child, if everything goes splendidly for the first. Obviously that did not happen. Homebirth is completely off the table for us. I feel like my hospital did a very good job in supporting us, encouraging us, getting us through a rough time. They gave ME the decisions, did not force anything on me. Obviously we did not have a live baby to worry about at that point, but I ended up having a natural labor (for the most part – though not entirely by choice). I am VERY confident that at MY hospital they would be supportive of a natural labor next time.

But I know not everyone has a hospital like mine, where delayed cord-cutting is the norm, and birth balls and squatting bars are available for everyone. I do not believe that my decision to give birth in a hospital will make me any safer – I just know that I am going to be paranoid and needing constant reassurance that I wouldn’t otherwise have needed.

The whole damn system is fucked up here in North America. (I’d say “The U.S.”, but I don’t think Canada is any better off.) The c-section rate is skyrocketing, which is NOT a good thing. Infant and maternal mortality is NOT getting any better. It’s just a damn mess. Because of finances and worries about lawsuits and all kinds of crap.

Gah, just makes me flaming mad.