Preface: I understand that these comments are well-meant and designed to bring comfort. I hear the heart of the speaker. And I am thankful for their love and caring. This post is meant to inform, not to make anyone feel bad for anything they may or may not have said.
"Birth is empowering."
I keep seeing this all over Facebook right now. Being friends with midwives and doulas and mamas who support mom's voice during birth, it's inevitable, this seeing. And I'm sure it's true.
But I don't feel it.
I mean, what makes a birth empowering? Is it the labor? Is it the actual pushing out of the baby? Is it the moment you reach for your baby and he/she is on your chest and the umbilical cord is still pumping life into that little body? Is it all of the above? None of it?
I've been called brave. Not really. I did what I was told to do. What I really feel like, in this moment, is robbed. Robbed of whatever part of birthing is supposed to be empowering.
I wish I had someone or something to blame, to label "thief". But I don't. It just happened. It wasn't Bean's fault, or my midwife's, or Bear's or mine or God's. It would be so much easier to point the finger, but there's nowhere to point it.
If I point it at all, of course it's at myself. I remember my midwife telling me that I was 8cm and could push if I wanted, she would just have to push back the cervical lip over Bean's head. I can't count the number of times I've wondered if things had been different if I had let her, instead of wanting to wait till I was fully dilated.
And, yes, I realize I am immensely blessed with my beautiful son, who turned 2 months yesterday. Blessed to have my health and body almost back to normal. Blessed to be able to exclusively breastfeed my child. Blessed that we are both alive. Blessed to have a partner who has continued to be my rock in my lowest times, as well as my highest. Blessed to have a partner who loves us both so fully and unconditionally, and who never complains about the 3 a.m. diaper change. Believe me, I count my blessings every day.
Tell me, what is it about birth that is empowering? Because, right now, I feel so powerless.
My cloth diaper journey began when I was just a baby. My mother tells me that I was terribly allergic to disposable diapers and had awful rashes until she switched to cloth. Of course, back then, it was still the giant square folded and held together with a big pin.
I've been craving a home-made Mexican-style meal for days now. And I finally feel well enough to actually move around some. Today has been very productive! Laundry done, kitchen cleaned, dinner AND dessert made! I am so proud of us! Papa Bear even took care of Bean long enough for me to run to Walmart, the grocery store, and McDonald's (yay dollar iced coffee!).
If you have left-over chicken from a rotisserie, you would need 2 cups of chicken. This is a great way to use up those leftovers!
Gluten-Free White Chicken Enchilada Casserole
1 green bell pepper
1 small onion
2-3 garlic cloves
2-3 tbs olive oil
2 large chicken breasts
(above can be replaced with 2 cups shredded cooked chicken)
12 gluten-free corn tortillas
2 cups shredded Monterey Jack cheese
3 tbs butter
3 tbs gluten-free flour (I used Hodgson Mill)
2 cups chicken broth
1 cup sour cream
1 (4 oz.) can diced green chilies
(If you already have shredded chicken, preheat oven to 350 degrees and start at step 6.)
Mama Bear of one Baby Bear, Bean, who both love Papa Bear, and live in a crafty, gluten-free cozy den.