Musings of a Pregnant Mom: Home birth vs. Hospital birth

Today I was reading an article online about a home birth advocate who died during childbirth. Being the glutton for punishment that I am, I decided to read the comments below the article and, of course, they made me mad. So mad that even though I am not one to post comments where they can be dragged through the mud, I need to get my thoughts out there before I go insane.

First and formost, I have absolutely no problems with home births. Also, with some qualifications, I have no problems with those who chose to have their babies in the hospital. But it really gets me when people say that those who chose a home birth are uninformed and endagering their lives as well as the lives of their children. So here is my response to those people.

Yes, it is important to be informed when making a decision regarding the birth of your child. And yes, those that have tragic experiences with home birth may have been uninformed, but not in the way that you think. Those who have hospital births may be just as poorly informed as those home birth moms. When choosing where and with whom you want to have your baby, the most important thing about which you should be well informed is your health care provider. There are good doctors and not so good doctors. There are good midwives and not so good midwives. Whatever kind of birth experience you choose, you must be well informed on the person overseeing your birth.

When choosing a midwife, you need to know their record. How long have they been attending births? What is their maternal/infant mortality rate? What is their hospital transfer rate? Are they licensed? Can you get references from previous birth moms who have used their services? Is the midwife sensitive to your needs and concerns? What is your midwife's plan if something seems to be wrong? In my opinion, you need to find a midwife who meets your needs and desires as well as being careful to observe warning signs and get you the care you need before it is too late.

While those in the medical field stress how important it is to be informed when it comes to our care, how many future moms do you know that know anything about their OBs and hospitals? Just like for midwives, moms need to closely examine their OBs and the hospitals they work at. How long have they been practicing? What is their maternal/infant mortality rate? What is their cesarean rate? Are interventions like Pitocin, episiotomies, forceps, epidurals etc routine or are they only used when necessary? Do they talk to you about the risks of each procedure before they perform it? Are they sensitive to your needs and concerns? Do they involve you in the decision process or do they just tell you what is going to happen? Just because you are giving birth in a hospital does not mean that everything is going to be safe and perfect. However, by choosing a good provider, you can minimize your risks just like you would by choosing a good midwife for a home birth.

Now, what have I chosen for my next birth experience? I am going with a group of midwives that operate a birth center. My main midwife has a fabulous track record (25 years worth) and the birth center as a whole has amazing stats
(ie very low hopital transfers, very low cesarean rate and no maternal/infant mortality). I feel very comfortable with the care that I receive there and know that they will get me the help that I need if warning signs appear. I do NOT feel like I am uninformed and while I am not choosing to have a home birth (they suduced me with talks of massages and meals brought in to me which I would not get at home), these same midwives do attend home births and I would feel comfortable having them attend any future home births I might plan.

Ok, I'll step down from the soap box now. Have a great day!

Oh where, oh where has my little boy gone?

Yesterday was a momentous day in our family. We lost our cute little cherubic, surfer dude little boy. This is was he looked like:


Isn't he adorable? I loved his sunbleached, angelic curls, but they was starting to get long. Well, they would on an almost two year old who has never had his hair cut. So, we decided to take the plunge.

The night before, we got the clippers out and let Mathias play with the guards, hold the clippers, and feel what it is like when it is on. Fast forward to yesterday afternoon and we once again got the clippers out, this time to cut Hubby's hair. Then we asked Mathias if it was his turn. He said yes.


Oh, where is my cute little boy!? (Yes, I know he is still cute, but I so miss those curls.)

Nothing is ever as you expect

In my last post, I was rather optimistic that my managing days were over and that the a life of peace and happiness was ahead of me. No such luck. It took a MONTH for them to find a replacement and I was stupid enough to offer to continue to work until they found a new manager or the end of March, which ever came first. Now that I'm not having nightmares about what happened (I really did have a few), I'll tell you the story.

March 1st: We were in process of evicting someone in the building. I got a call that day from a family member of the tenant involved saying he was at the building to pick up the tenant and would I please open the front door. I did so and stayed around until they left. And left they did: everything that was in the apartment. I didn't dare go near the apartment until several days later, and then only with someone with me. The place was filthy and was basically a drug house.

I almost quit right then, but I have an overactive sense of duty and I couldn't just abandon them. I did, however, refuse to clean anything in the apartment. The maintenance crew picked up all the needles, a junk removal company cleaned out the junk, and a cleaning company did the cleaning.

Wait a minute, you might say, did you just say needles? How many needles could their be? 10? 50? Try this:


Yes, that is the bathtub. Yes, it is full. No, no one believed me that it was as bad as I said it was, not even my property manager or the company that disposed of all of them for us. A friend of mine who works for the police department told her boss who thought "Yeah, sure. I'm sure the bottom of the tub is covered, but that's it." HA!

It is only got worse, if that is possible. We had fresh needles showing up in the parking garage for a while. Then the former tenants druggie friends were kind enough to break into every single storage unit in the garage and steal from a couple of them. Then a week later THEY STARTED TO DO IT AGAIN!!!! They only stopped when we changed the locks on all the outside doors.

And then they finally found a new manager and I was thrilled! And a week or so after that I finally turned my keys in. Oh, what a happy day that was!

What have I been doing since that blessed day? Trying not to have nightmares and spending plenty of time outside in our yard. I'll try to post more soon, if I can.

Ummm... So what do I do now?

Hubby thinks it's time to start making Christmas cookies. Now, I don't disagree. His butter cookies improve with age and it certainly will save time later. Except...

Except that letting Hubby into the kitchen is sometimes disastrous, and tonight was no exception. After all was said and done, we ended up with two beautiful batches of butter cookies and a bowl full of 4 1/2 cups bread flour and 1 1/2 cups sugar*. Yep, bread flour. Can't use bread flour for cookies!

So, the question is, what do I do with a bowl full of bread flour and sugar? My first thought was to make challah, since that is a fairly sweet bread, but there is enough suger mixed with the flour to make EIGHT loaves of challah, following the recipe in the Joy of Cooking. I don't need that many.

Any suggestions?

*In his defense, last Christmas, there was only one tub of flour on the counter. Now there are two, one bread flour and the other all-purpose. Since they aren't labeled, they both just look like flour, as he so aptly put it. And he is a great cook.

AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, I went to grind some corn in my Nutrimill this morning (for cornbread). I poured the corn in, turned it on and it just didn't sound right.

I stopped it, fiddled with the dial a bit, and turned it on again. Still didn't sound right.

Fiddled with it some more. Still didn't sound right and then stopped making any sound at all. Ummm, not good. Especially when there is smoke coming out of the back.

WHAT DO I DO!?! HOW DO I SURVIVE WITHOUT MY GRINDER!?! (at least until I can find a Bosch store in the area who's phone is not answered by a fax machine.)

(Please Don't) Let it Snow!

I love snow. Really, I do. Even despite dire predictions of friends in Utah that I would soon tire of it (I was from California and therefore only liked snow because it was a novelty), I still love snow. And then this last weekend happened. This is the view from our window as of this morning.


And here is the view of the park from our roof deck.


Over the last few days we have gotten over a half a foot of snow. And it sure is beautiful. There are, however, just a few problems. First, church was canceled (yes, we here in the greater Seattle area are pansies). Second, there are no tire chains to be had, "not even for ready money"(Act I, scene 1). Third, there is not deicing salt to be had. Forth, and by far the worst, we've had to cancel our Christmas travel plans. Yes, that's right. We were planning on spending Christmas with my in-laws, but with deep (ok, ok, we're pansies) snow here and very icy roads there and no chains to be had for our new car, we just can't risk it. I am very disappointed as this was to be the first Christmas we spent with them. However, I am excited to have Christmas on our own, if only because Anna's present was too big to travel with us if we had gone. I can't wait to see her face when she comes into the living room and sees it sitting under the tree. So, I'm a little mad at snow right now. You know, the kind of mad you get with someone you love, where it doesn't change how you feel about them, but you are still angry with what they did. I still love snow. The crunch of booted feet...



... the chill and brightness of the air, the way snow sits on everything that stays still for even a moment, and most of all, the way it falls so gracefully to the ground.

Merry Christmas and may you all travel safetly.