Having a great time with Cullen and Molly here for the summer. Molly and I are watching lots of movies and having great talks about plots, foreshadowing, prejudices, and humor. Last night we watched Betty Davis in Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte. Another favorite was Lars and the Real Girl. Any suggestions? Or care to share your favorites?
Happy Birthday to the light in my life, Molly! Molly is so bright and happy, yet can swing on a dime to dark and moody. Easily pleased and just as easily frustrated. Loving and kind most of the time, but an occasional sharp tongued remark can cut deep.
Do you remember? Do you remember being 13? When your friends at school had the power to determine your entire mood for the day? When what people thought about you was THE most important thing in life? The time before you really figured out who YOU were, and all the information streaming in from parents, peers, teachers and advertising were telling you to be this or that and it was so confusing? It makes my heart ache thinking about it. But it is part of growing up...that confusion. It helps us define US.
Molly wants so bad to please everyone. I try and get her to understand that it is impossible and that finding out what makes her happy will be hard enough to do, much less make everyone else happy. But, she's young and she still thinks if she tries hard enough, she can accomplish the impossible.
But just for a moment, Molly, if only for a brief moment, listen to what I see and hear.
I see an absolutely stunning young woman. She is tall (taller than me) and blond with beautiful pool blue eyes. Her legs are long and strong making her appear that much taller. She is comfortable in heels and dresses with jewelry and makeup. But she is also just as comfortable in sweats and converse shoes, with a bed head of tousled hair and eyeliner smeared beneath her weary eyes. She wakes with a smile and within minutes those eyes gleam with all her ideas for the day. She is artistic and sees beauty all around her, especially nature. She has an eye for color and always impresses me with her combinations. She is smart, smarter than she even realizes. She is loving and quick to give, of her time, talents, and gifts. She is sympathetic and has a unique insight into others when they need help. She is magnetic and has a pull that makes you want to be around her. But she won't be pinned down and has a need to be in motion most of the time. She is quick to forgive and promotes peace among her friends. She has a huge heart that you can see and feel instantly when you are around her.
I love her so much. Her presence can turn my day around like nothing else. From the very moment I conceived her, to her beautiful birth, she has healed me. From her demanding infancy to her stubborn preschool years, she taught me. With each milestone, I admire her and thank God for her.
So, Molly, as you leave your childhood behind and enter the teenage years, know that I am your biggest fan and I'll be here no matter what. You may never fully understand all that you've done for me and what you mean to me, but just know that I love you with all my heart and soul. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. Happy, happy birthday to you!
In keeping with tradition, the following is a link to Molly's birth story and how she healed a wound and created a mother.
Molly Ellen's Birth Story
The story of Molly Ellen's birth begins long before the actual birth. It starts, really, with the birth of my first child, Cullen, an arduous induced labor ending in a cesarean section. When I became pregnant again, I knew I wanted something different. I had considered a midwife managed home birth with Cullen, but being my first child, opted not to. This time I was sure this was the way for me.
Having a midwife was wonderful. The care and compassion cannot compare to the obstetric model of care. Because of conditions and restrictions in this state, I went through hospital-based and lay midwifery care concurrently. I cannot say enough about the differences and expectations of each. In one I was expected to fail, and in the other I was expected to behave triumphantly. As any mother knows, one often does as one is expected to do.
I was very ill during both of my pregnancies. After nine long months of sickness, I began my 38th week with excited anticipation of the birth. An exam revealed I was already 2cm dilated. I tried to contain my enthusiasm, but was overjoyed that my body was responding, because I entered a 42-week induction with Cullen at only 1cm. Finally, my body was preparing for the birth. A week later, I was at 4cm! Almost half way there and no contractions. On the day after my due date, I was 5cm! I couldn't believe I wasn't in labor. This was Sunday afternoon, Monday morning at 4:10am I woke up and stretched in bed and felt my water break. I asked my husband, Carl, to get me a towel. Being asleep he moved very slowly but when I said "hurry!" he got the message that something was happening. By the time I made it to the bathroom, I had my first real contraction. I say real because there was absolutely no doubt that this was labor and it hurt. Carl wanted to call our midwife right away since she had over an hour's drive, but I said we should time the contractions first, because she would ask that. Carl agreed and handed me the watch and walked out to fill the birth tub. I called to him, "You see, I have the contractions and you time them." We both laughed. Turned out the contractions were about 3 minutes apart and lasting 45-50 seconds, not long before the baby would be here.
My mother and sister were here for the birth and both were awakened. They helped boil water, just like in the movies, only this water was for the birth tub. I walked, sat on the birth ball and rocked waiting for the tub. It was filled and ready for me in about an hour. By this time, I was definitely ready for it. When I got in, it was wonderful! Immediate relief! Carl got in with me and he was great to lean on. My doula had arrived and she never left me. The constant attention was so comforting. I barely had to voice my concerns or needs before she attended to them. Often only one word was needed to convey what I wanted. I had been laboring for some time in the water when my midwife arrived. She asked if I was hot, and then said I looked flushed. I was very hot and becoming uncomfortable. I took a break from the water and labored on the toilet, which was near an A/C vent. The cool air felt wonderful, though my doula and husband were freezing. The contractions were getting stronger and stronger and I could feel the baby moving down. Then, about 7 am the pain became harder to deal with. It wasn't going totally away after the contractions. I was feeling overwhelmed by everything. I could hear a small still voice inside me reminding me to remain calm and work through it; that's what I tell my clients. By 7:30 am I was feeling urges to push, and it really scared me. This was a very powerful feeling and I wasn't giving in to it. It took me several contractions to figure out what was going on. Why was I fighting this? What was I scared of? Then, my doula said to reach down and see if I could feel the baby. I did and I felt the baby's wrinkled head just inside me. That was it! This baby was coming out through my vagina and no one was going to stop her. I don't think I truly visualized this before that moment. Perhaps in my unconscious I thought someone would come and "save" me and do the work for me, like last time. But now I realized, I had to push this baby out. This was the only way.
With these empowering thoughts, I got up to go to the bathroom and then decided not to get back into the tub; I was just too hot. I crawled to a chair and got on my hands and knees, with my upper body resting in the seat. It was there that I finally let go and really began to push in earnest. It felt great to work so hard and the contraction pain finally subsided. I sweated and groaned and pushed. My husband was directly behind me helping to massage. Finally Molly's head peeked out and with the somewhat loud encouragement from my "team," (they were yelling to be heard against my vocalizations) I pushed Molly's head out. My husband's hands cradled her. She tried to breathe and the midwife encouraged me to get her out. By this time I didn't need encouraging, I wanted her out more than anyone. One more push and out she came, into my husbands hands. Everyone exclaimed and I couldn't believe it. Just like that, it was over. No more pain, just very tired. It was 8:36 am.
I sat down and held my beautiful big baby. I rested and snuggled and drank some orange juice and herbs. My sister was very excited to cut the cord. My first son Cullen came in, but at 20 months, he was more interested in the water tub than in the new baby. He cooled us off with some splashes. I lay down with Molly and just rested until she latched on about 30 minutes after the birth. With that stimulation, I delivered the placenta at 45 minutes after the birth. I felt very lucky to have a patient midwife, because I knew that would not have happened at the hospital. Then Molly and I took an herbal bath with lavender, myrrh and other healing herbs that my midwife had prepared. It felt wonderful and Molly was so wide-awake, just looking around. While I dried off and got dressed, Molly was measured. She weighed 9lb 10oz and was 21 inches long.
Later we all sat down and ate a wonderful lunch my mother had prepared. Then we all took a well-deserved nap, all except Carl who was too full of excitement to sleep. Molly Ellen's birth was more than my heart desired. It was a completely healing experience and made me believe in myself more than ever. That feeling is the birthright of all women, to be loved, supported and courageous in childbirth.
Molly's Birdhouse
They were much prettier as eggs...
Charlotte is a stray cat that Molly brought home a few weeks ago. I, of course, do not need another living thing in this house, so I kicked her out at least five or six times, but she always found her way back.
After a couple of weeks of this, I realized she was pregnant. So we became Charlotte’s foster home. The last time I had a pregnant cat I was 8 or 9 years old, so I did some reading.
• Cats can become pregnant as young as 4-6 months old.
• Cats can become pregnant as soon as 48 hours after giving birth.
• Cats are very needy and moody when they are pregnant.
Sound familiar? (By the way, a six-month-old cat is the equivalent of a 10-12 year old human.)
I’ve learned some other things along the way.
Turns out there is an old technique in birthing kittens that if the mother does not lick the kitten to stimulate it to breathe, you can “gently” swing the kitten downward between your legs to force out the fluid and clear the airway. WHAT!?! Seriously, that sounds as barbaric as some of the things we do to women in labor and delivery. Science only gets us so far. Doing things the way they’ve always been done, will get you all the way to crazy.
One information source made the declaration: There are no consistently safe and effective ways of inducing labor in a feline. Amen to that, and ditto for women! If only THAT was printed on every little thing a pregnant woman receives from her clinic, than maybe, just maybe, it would have sunk in by the time she reaches 36 weeks. I’m gleaning a little from the next lesson.
My kids have forgotten everything I’ve ever taught them about birth and babies. Being a childbirth educator, doula and finally nurse, I have always talked plainly and truthfully to my children about sex and birth and breastfeeding. However, this experience has taught me that unless you talk about it everyday, most of what you may have considered “covered” is actually “forgotten.”
Leaving things alone is the best way to get things right. In birth anyway, it has a design that works, if only we would let it. Almost everything I read encouraged the pet owner to NOT interfere with the cat's labor and delivery, but to be there as a "lifeguard" if something goes wrong. And yet, when we as humans have just as good a design on labor and birth, we REFUSE to believe in it. We judge it, question it, doubt it. Are there no wise women left who believe that birth is right, natural and best left alone? Are there no women who want swim with lifeguards? I could go on and on about this one, but I'll leave it for now.
While most sources say that a cat prefers seclusion, Charlotte wanted my attention in labor, so I sat with her, and petted her and tried to support her. But as any good doula knows, you cannot possibly prepare a female for what happens at the moment of birth. Charlotte became wide eyed as her first kitten emerged and she literally tried to climb up my arm. It was a familiar sight, one I’ve seen so many times as young, first time mothers climb to the top of the birthing bed to “get away” from the pain. The next time is better because while it hurts the same, we know what to expect and the panic is not as bad. By the third kitten, Charlotte didn’t even make a sound.
The children’s reactions to the kittens just exemplify how very different each child is. Cullen is squeamish and Camille is not. Cullen touched one of the kittens and then felt the umbilical cord. He freaked out and ran to the bathroom to wash his hands. Camille laughed and at 3½ years old, she mocked him with waving hands and laughing, said “I’ve got to wash my hands!” Camille picks up earthworms with her bare hands.
While Molly is imaginative, Camille is rather concrete. Molly is projecting personalities onto the kittens, determining little scenarios and trying to find names that fit.
Camille asks, “Is my kitten sick, or is he OK?”
She says, “I’d like my kitten to be a girl.”
Later, Camille thinks we should sing a song to the kittens.
“Do you know any kitten songs, Mommy?” she asks.
I reply, “No, that would be Molly’s department. Go ask her. I’m sure she can make up a kitten song for you.” And she will.
Internet, this is Molly.
Everyone together: "Hi, Molly."
Molly is a brilliant, energetic, thoughtful, creative, and caring human being. She is shy in new situations and kind to others. She is giving with her talents, money, time and possessions. She is willing to try most anything once.
She loves art like me and has a mini-studio in her room. She loves pets, American Girl, gardening and computers. She loves to dress up and take bubble baths.
Most days she is a blur of joy, sound and light. Light. That is a word that I have used over and over to describe her. It is accurate because you cannot catch light. You have a hard time bending it, or changing its direction. Yet, you want it, want to be around it, gravitate toward it.
Yes, Molly is light. She finds it hard to settle down, hard to go to sleep. And yet, even when she finally succeeds, she is still glowing, like a comforting reminder of her day's work.
Molly is light, or I could just tell you she is like a puppy on crack, that's pretty accurate too.
Molly got her braces off last week. She was so excited about her new look, AND the ability to chew gum again.
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