Friday, December 11, 2009

I've Done and Gone Granola Birth

(Warning this is a long post about giving birth and birth-options and it's not full of jokes and stuff so you know, like, I won't be offended if you don't read it.)

When I found out I was knocked up I imagined I'd give birth in a hospital and probably have an epidural just like everyone else on the planet (or so I thought) and that would be that. I didn't know about alternatives other than freaky home births in kiddie pools and these mysterious mid-wives I'd heard about now and again. I thought mid-wives were some strange breed of women that gave weird churchy people dangerous home births because they were all kooky and goofy and didn't trust in modern medicine and society - and stuff. Let me stop trying to explain myself and just pin on whatever stereotype you've heard of to my shirt and be done with it.

Then
My New Friend Who Claims To be Granola-y <---- that's a link - loaned me a couple of hippie-dippie midwife-natural birth-away from the hospital books, and advised that I look them over if anything just for the positive birth stories inside that were written by other women. I love to read and was insanely curious about giving birth so I was happy to check them out and promised to do so with an open mind because I liked this lady.


She also shared with me her own what I thought at the time was her strange-hippie-dippie home birth in a kiddie pool story and offered to show me a video of the whole darn thing. She seemed so jazzed by the whole thing that all I could do was say the requisite ooo's and ahhh's and head-nods I thought were appropriate and do the whole I'm-being-polite-to-the-crazy-lady-thing. God forgive me because I know she'll read this but at least she knows I've changed now.

OH boy howdy have I changed my mind!

After reading these books written by a midwife - Ina May Gaskin - my whole little "normal" world has been picked up and shook around like a snow globe, only to have the pieces fall back from the sky in a whole new way of life. I'm still not much of a granola-y person I don't think - I'm just too lazy - but I will be having an alternative birth. LOL it's not alternative at ALL compared to the rest of the world - just the United States.

I'm now signed up to go and have my birth in a birthing community. It's run by midwives and nurses and is completely dedicated to letting birth be about the mother and not hospital procedure. When I go into labor I'll show up and go to my very own little birthing HOUSE complete with a couple of bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom and a big ole room dedicated to the gigantic jacuzzi located in the middle of it. Mama's bringing Daisy into the world in style damn it. Jacuzzi style!

There will be no hooking me up to an I.V. (unless it becomes for some reason medically necessary) because unlike hospitals they encourage women to eat and drink as long as they can during the labor, and I'll be free to roam around and labor however I wish.

There will be no continuous fetal-monitoring-belt or internal fetal monitor (unless the baby gets in trouble and then this stuff is always there in the closet just-in-case). They prefer the intermittent dopplar monitoring instead. I choose the atmosphere I want (and it's 100% respected) and though the staff is ready and available at every second to reassure and help me along - I also have the choice of them leaving me alone and just letting me labor how I want - in peace -in between check-ins.

After Daisy is out she'll come directly onto me - skin to skin - and we'll have time together to get acquainted and even start breast feeding immediately. There are no bottles, no formula and no pacifiers that will be jammed into her mouth by well meaning nurses (and I do mean well meaning, those nurses are doing what they can with what they have and I respect them - but it's not what I want). They won't whisk her away to a nursery and leave me all alone and baby-less, she'll be right there with me where I'll want her. Of course the staff will be right there to make sure she's doing fine and doesn't need any help - in which case if she does they have all the modern bells and whistle equipment just in case. They'll do the standard APGAR test and weighing and bath - they're not freaks like I thought - but it's all done in a different manner and on my schedule not a hospital schedule.

Did I mention there's no pain medication? I want a natural birth and I'm damn well getting one. I know that if I go to a hospital I'll go in with the best of intentions but that I'll surely come home having had an epidural. I don't think there's anything terribly wrong about epidurals (to each their own damn it! it's our choice!) but it's not what I WANT and if I don't labor in a place that supports that want I don't think I'll ever make it through.

My "normal" OBGYN laughed in my face two weeks ago when I told her I wanted to go all natural and told me that it's so rare that if I'd like to try and "prove her wrong" she'd love to see it. LAUGHED at me! She said they do epidurals and cesarian births and then asked me if I'd like to schedule an induction in my 39th week for the convenience of it.

*blink*

What?

Yes, of course there are women out there whom have a reason to schedule a non-medical-reason-induction and of course there are true reasons to have cesarian births and who the hell am I to judge anyway? I'm not! It's up to the woman these days and I'm not knocking that for even a second - but I would have thought my doctor would have been supportive of a ger-flaggin natural birth! All I was asking for was not to have pain medication and she LAUGHED at me! What the hell?

Luckily for me my granola friend heard about this birthing community and even checked into it for me. (She's really super crazy neato and nice and WOW like that) She told me that if my pre-natal stuff was normal and up-to-date that they would probably TAKE ME even though I was 37 weeks along. She even asked about my insurance and they take that too!

They've got everything the Hospital has for a normal and even not-so-normal birth but it's all hidden away in closets and chests of drawers until it's deemed necessary to bring out. (If ever)

ALSO if anything comes up that looks like too much for their facility to handle they won't hesitate to take me strait to the hospital. They might be granola-y but they don't support a LOWER than average infant/mother mortality rate for nothing. They trust in a womans body to do exactly what it was designed to do but they also know things go wrong sometimes and that modern medicine is THE SHIT when things go wrong.

I'm tired of typing and I've only left out 10,000 things I should have included but for this moment I just wanted to let a little bit out and share with you how excited I am.

I'm not scared to death - I'm EXCITED! How cool is that? (Don't ask me how I feel about actually bringing a baby HOME WITH ME and having to KEEP her - that still scares me to
death - but at least I'll be able to get her out of me, and that's cool).

:P

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Remember Burger Hut?

Here in this part of Mexico the police have little huts and tiny office/houses scattered about all over the place. For what function I've no clue, but we see them from time to time and this here's just about the silliest one I've come across. I wish you guys could see it close up, it's just so teeny and ramshackle! At least you can get an idea of it's size by looking at the car tires they have holding the roof down. (You know, I just typed out that last sentance in all seriousness without the whole car-tires-on-the-roof thing even phasing me. What's happening to me?)

I've heard from others that the police might take you to one of these little places to intimidate you to get more bribe money out of you but hell, the three times we've been pulled over here our money was good enough right there on the street.

What I think they really are? I've got an idea that the police go around shaking down taco stands and if the taco stand won't pay out they steal the stand and make a fort out of it. Remember forts?

If you come from the country and you were a boy or a tomboy you'll remember just how big of a DEAL having a fort was when you were a kid. It didn't have to be one of those big special tree house deals that you see on t.v. - nobody in our neighborhood had one of those - no, it was more likely to be an abandoned deer stand or just a bunch of wood you managed to pile up against some trees. A couple of summers we hung out under a bridge (lovely I know.) A fort was such a huge THING when I was a kid, lol I'd forgotten about it. :)

Little brothers could NOT be allowed to come to the fort and hang out - the whole day would be ruined and we did our damn best to stock the fort with whatever we could get from home. Me and the neighbor boy managed to get some candles, a lighter, a shovel, a tin for storage, a salt shaker and a bunch of sandwhich bags (to make water balloons) all stored up one summer and thought we were quite in hog heaven. We had special rocks that we'd dug out of the ground and rolled over for our chairs and even a can of spray paint to decorate - we were - the shit.

Did you guys have forts? What did city kids do? The more I think of it now the more that comes back to me and I'm remembering that FEIRCE feeling of ownership that came with it. Our parents never bothered us about the forts and never that I can remember came to check them out or see what was what - I wonder if they knew how big a deal it was? I'm betting they did. I'm also thinking now that I'm on the verge of being a parent that they probably checked out our shit when we weren't around just to see that things were copacetic and safe enough.

I hope Daisy has a fort some day. I'll totally check it out but I won't let her know it.

So yeah, I'm betting these little police huts are little grown-man forts that they get together to hang out in and jive talk when they're not busy extorting anybody. It almost makes me mushy feeling to think about. :P

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

When I Grow Up

When I grow up I think I'd like to drive this machine for my job.

Just look at it, isn't it glorious?

Do you realize that when it's being driven down the road that it's. . . appendage. . would most certainly have to be pointed up? Or at least raised to "half mast?"

DO YOU UNDERSTAND that I would pee my pants laughing all day long while driving this thing around?

Can you IMAGINE the endless possiblities of 12-year-old-boy jokes that I would have the pleasure of thinking up all day?

"It's okay Bob, let me turn her around and I'll pound it out from the back."

"Just a sec, let me turn the jack off."

"Wrong hole? Let me try another position."

"Harder!?"

"Either that's a hydraulic leak or you're his type."

I'd be fired for sexual harrasment within two weeks but at least I would live out a dream. WHY did they paint the jack turqouise!? MY GAWD DO YOU THINK IT GLOWS IN THE DARK!??

I'm setting this as my screen saver, just so you know.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Birthday Tradition Mexico Style

Here in Mexico Birthdays are like Holidays - festival required. We have a lot of people here in Chino's family and end up having a birthday party at least 2-3 times a month. One of the things I've come to learn about the birthday traditions, something that happens at EVERY birthday party no matter your age, is the cake tradition.

If it's your birthday you will have your face smashed into your cake. No exceptions.

It cracks me up because even though we have a birthday party a few times a month and though everyone knows what's going to happen - every time - it's always such a big hit. We sing the birthday song and then someone starts to chant "Mor-di-ta, Mor-di-ta!" (Little bite) The cameras are readied, everyone gets giddy and starts giggling and the person in front of the cake tries their best for a couple of minutes to try and take a small bite of cake without having someone from behind them smash their face into the cake.


I've only seen 1.5 birthdays in over a year where someone got out of it. The .5 was about a month ago - the little boy to the right. This smart lil cousin took a super-speed bite of the cake before the first chanter got to the "di" in "Mor-di-ta." It was hilarious, everyone went completely silent because they were stunned and didn't know what to do.

Smart little punk, everyone snapped back after a second and got back to laughing, congratulating him on being intelligent and watched as his sister grabbed a chunk of cake with her hand and smeared it all over his face anyway. Nice try.

The only true get-a-way was last week when Chino's Dad had his birthday party. He's pretty frail and turned 72 so after the 5th try or so of trying half-strength to push his head down they let him be, I thought it was sweet. :)

Luckily for me? Last year they didn't know my birthdate yet and Chino didn't do a family party and THIS year his Dad had just moved here and it turned out his birthday is the same exact day as mine - AND - Chino thought mine was the next day, (idiot) so I was forgot about. Was I pissy or sad or hurt? HELL NO ! ! AAHAHAHAHHAH I'm shy and haaaaattteee having the birthday song sung to me and have been dreading having to go through the cake-smashing-ritual ever since last year when I got away with it the first time.

His family felt all weird and freaked out for forgetting about me - and verbally abused Chino for mixing up the the days, but I was happy as a clam. I have a feeling next year I'll have hell to pay but we'll just see. Wish me luck. :P

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Molesting Chihuahua

My Chihuahua has taken quite a liking to humping the puppy. I tried telling her that she's got the whole thing backwards (especially when she humps his face) but to no avail. I've informed my husband that our pinche chiwawiya (chee-wa-wee-yuh) is now a child molester and that she'll have to be put on the registry and perhaps wear a special collar - lol he didn't get it, ah well. Just look at the poor little thing, doesn't he look like he feels dirty and abused? Chino does his best to console him.

I keep trying to catch her with the camera but Chihuahua's are some sneaky bastards and she get's all freaked out and stops as soon as she hears the camera beep when it turns on. Honest to goodness she stops and looks at me all guilty like "Please don't post me on the Internet." I'm going to have to call Dateline.

I was hoping to make Christmas cards out of the picture, something like "Humpy Christmas!" or "Have a Humping Holiday!" I'm sure you guys can come up with something better, but you get the gist. It WOULD make people smile, you know it's true.

"Santa's little Humper?"

*snort*

Ah well, she's got it coming to her - his balls haven't dropped yet so he has no clue of what this whole humping business is about - BUT HE WILL when they do drop. (And we'll know as soon as they drop because Chino picks him up every single day to check and then announces "He doesn't have any balls. Puppy jew don't have any balls." I think it's a man thing) She's maxed out at like 4lbs and he's gonna weigh like 60. Have fun when the tables turn dirty lil Chihuahua.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Grandmas Toilet Paper

Back when I was a little kid I remember going to my Gramas house and being facinated with her bathroom. She had a PINK bathroom - carpet, wallpaper, peach bathtub w/pink curtain, all the little shell fancy soaps, a pink plastic poodle that held bubble bath and last but not least her pink scented toilet paper. I'm not sure where she even bought the pink scented toilet paper but my 7yr old self sure as heck thought it was bad ass. My parents never had colored paper and surely never scented, so gramas bathroom was quite special.

When I was older my family redecorated her house as a surprise and the pink bathroom faded way to sunflowers and the pink t.p. to white. I know it was a really cool thing that we re-did her house but I would have been fine leaving the bathroom alone - the neato t.p. never returned.

Fast forward a crazy bunch of years and I found myself baffled while walking down the isle of a Mexican grocery looking for some damn t.p. They might have one or two packs of U.S. type t.p. but the vast majority is this weird small sized paper - no quadrouple rolls here and they're even shorter for some reason. Also? Colors. Mexican paper has COLORS! No not all of it of course but back home we sure as hell don't have peach, green and PINK toilet paper lining the isle at Walmart. PINK ! Grama you'd be so proud here!

After staring at all the strange tiny toilet paper I picked out the only kind that was large and recognizable - Cottonelle - and went about my way wondering if perhaps that pink paper was scented like my Gramas used to be.

When I got home and opened up my good ole American looking white toilet paper - Surpirse SURPRISE!! It was SCENTED! I'm really easily amused ok? For whatever reason I thought this was just about the neatest thing so I sat in the potty a while and sniffed my t.p.

It turns out that you just about can NOT buy t.p. here that isn't scented. Who the hell knew? I love it, it reminds me of my grama of course and for what ever reason I like having it nice smelling. I use a roll of toilet paper instead of buying Kleenex (cheap skate) and every time I blow my honker I get a whiff of my scented t.p. and every time it makes me smile. Sometimes Mexico can be cool.

The only down side to the lovely paper? Chino has taken to asking me after returning from a poo session - "I just wiped my butt with the perfume paper - jew want to smell it? Jew want to smell my flowery butt??"

:P

Nice.

:)

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

I HAVE INTERNET !!! I HAVE INTERNET!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

*running in circles*

EEEEEEEEE!!!!!

*running back and forth*

EEEEEEEEEEE!!!

*clapping hands*

*peeing pants*

EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Ok, I'll be back! I CAN WRITE AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!