I found my journal the other day

Yes, I know this blog was supposed to be separate from my family identity. But here I am writing about my kids again.

I have given birth four times. Two of those four times, I had what I call the epi/pit combo platter. That would be where upon arrival, regardless of the progression of labor, one is given pitocin to "speed things along", which of course, being that artificial contractions are more difficult for the body to handle, leads to the administration of the spinal epidural analgesic. Which is fine, if Mom is aware of the risks and still chooses to do so.

But two of those births were planned, prepared for, and much anticipated unmedicated births. Let me explain the difference between the two. When my first was born I laid in the bed at the mercy of what the doctor thought was best for me. Regardless of what I wanted. I was hungry. And I was lied to. Yup. I went there. They told me the pitocin wouldn't harm the baby. They told me my precipitous drop in blood pressure was due to my being dehydrated upon check in. They told me I simply didn't have the strength to push my baby out, after all I was just a tiny little woman and had been at it for, "so long"...

When my fourth was born, the room was quiet and peaceful. When my beautiful daughter was born, I was in complete control of my bodily integrity. I had no probing hands looking for information to put on their charts. People were not telling me what to do or how to feel, I was telling them, and they were treating me accordingly. I ate if I wanted. I drank if I wanted. Above all, my ability to bring my child into the world, and thereafter to care for and feed her properly was NEVER questioned.

I labored in the tub, and slept on the bed. I waited until I knew I was completely safe, totally ready. And then I simply pushed her out. And afterward I simply nursed her until she was asleep. And then I went to sleep. It was pure bliss.

I found my journal today that detailed the experience for me again, and it was brought right up to the forefront of my mind.

You see, ever since I was a prepubescent child I have had, shall we say, ill feelings, about my body. I was short you see. Weak. And female. Which of course also meant, not just weak, but stupid. To this day, you can call me any name in the book, but so much as imply that I am less than intelligent, and I turn into a raging bitch. I don't suggest you try it. When puberty hit, I got a lovely double whammy. I bloomed late. So I got teased through 8th grade for being flat chested. But over Christmas break in 9th grade, everything changed. Literally overnight, I was bustin out of my trainers and was a full blown C cup. Which garnered me all kinds of unwanted attention, and eventually, teasing. It was brutal. And I grew to LOATHE my body.

It took me 32 years to come to a place where if I could not love my body, I could at least appreciate what it is capable of. I needed to embrace what my body, and my body without drugs or artificial baby milk could do in order get to that place. I didn't know when I started looking into the natural childbirth movement what exactly was driving me. But now that I am on the other side of it, and I can see what I have learned about myself, it is very clear to me.

I was desperate to prove to myself and to others that my being a female is not a weakness. My body is not an inferior copy of a man's. My interests, abilities, and mannerisms are not stupid, ignorant, or inferior simply because they are not YOURS. After all. Look at what my FEMALE BODY is capable of!!!

Empowering. And for me, healing.