Reconsidering Christmas Gifts

Last year I did daily posts throughout the month prior to Christmas, and while that was really fun for me (and hopefully for you!) I have a newborn this year and don't have that kind of energy! Furthermore, I've said a lot of the profound things I wanted to say!! BUT, I do still have a few topics for thoughtful posts this season, so every week or so I'll be waxing philosophical again.
Enjoy my (holiday) monday musings!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

In the past, Hubby and I have typically set a dollar budget for Christmas (and then typically tried to get as many items as possible within that budget). On the one hand it meant we kept Christmas 'modest' in a monetary sense, which I think is good for moving away from the greed and more toward the giving and Christ-centered holiday that we want to teach our children...on the other hand the whole stress over how much stuff can we get for how little money kinda defeated the point of it all.

So this year we were talking about it and I brought up the idea of only having 3 gifts per person (since the Wise Men brought the Christ Child three gifts). Some people make it more specific where "The gold gift is something they want. The frankincense gift is something they need, like socks. And the myrrh gift is something to nurture their souls." (I've also heard the idea of giving 4 gifts: "something they want, something they need, something to wear, and something to read.") These ideas felt closer to where we wanted to be, and yet neither was quite what we wanted, because one of the biggest issues is that we want our kids to care about the giving side of Christmas, so we want to encourage/help them to give to the other family members. Then Hubby came up with a brilliant idea!
We have concluded that from here on out each person in the family will get just one gift from each other family member. While the kids are young we will help them pick out gifts for each other person (and we'll subsidize) but as they get older we'll encourage them to think of gifts themselves (we'll still subsidize--within reason!). So for example Bear will get one gift each from dad, mom, Wolf, Santa, and each set of grandparents (not sure if we're gonna have gifts 'from' the baby brother this year, since he'll only be a few weeks old!). BUT, I'll also be helping Bear choose/give gifts to each other family member as well.
In the long run, we figure we'll be spending about the same amount of money, because there will only be one gift from mom, and one from dad (rather than several from us)...things will just have different 'from' labels, and be thought of/chosen by different people rather than all from mom and dad. (Hubby likes to do the Santa thing, so that will still happen...but I'm currently trying to negotiate for Santa gifts to be things that fit inside the stocking, so they will be small...keep the fun and 'magic' of the idea of Santa, but stay away from the greedy side of it. )

Anyway, I'm really excited because it will still keep Christmas spending/greed/stress to a real minimum, but this idea feels like we're going at it from the other direction--it's not about the dollar amount or the number of gifts, but since we each get to pick out just one gift for each other person, each of us is going to end up making it more personal and meaningful, you know? Especially as the kids get older I'm hoping to encourage homemade things or passing along things (like books or toys that they've outgrown). It feels so much better than if we were just trying to pack in the maximum possible bang for our buck.

Pregnant in America

Recently I watched the film "Pregnant in America." I have to agree with all the netflix reviewers who said that it was somewhat of a B-grade movie, and in many ways inferior to "The Business of Being Born." With that said though, I still recommend it for a couple of reasons:
1--it is clean (no language, no nudity...BoBB has quite a bit of both, and while they are in context, they are still bothersome for many viewers).
2--the film features interviews with a broader range of people, ranging from experts to random people on the street.

One quote (played during the credits, so I don't know who said it) was particularly memorable:

We can only change things in two ways: either with litigation, or with education.

Obviously, I'm a proponent of the latter.
While this movie does have its flaws (it gets pretty dramatic--in melodramatic way--at the end; and they don't provide references for most of their statistics, so I don't know how precisely factual they are), it's still an effort at education, and for that I must applaud them...at least a little bit.

Facebook Friday

Sunday 11/22
Jenni wonders why people always ask if the baby is "a good baby." Of course he's good. He's straight from Heaven. Some babies have more needs than others, but they are ALL good.

Monday 11/23
...forgot how much harder it is to nurse a LITTLE baby at the computer...he doesn't hold on by himself very well!

Tuesday 11/24
... loves that new baby smell...mmm, milk breath!

Wednesday 11/25
... is going grocery shopping, to the post office, and to my 2wk postpartum visit with the midwife...Hubby is back to work and I'm back to normal life. I'm not sure if it's exciting or sad that the babymoon is over.

Thursday 11/26
Thanksgiving Day
...is thankful for three little guys and a big guy
[and also for the church friends who invited us to join them at their inn--along with about 30 other people--for Thanksgiving dinner and 6 hours of friends to play with and good conversation.]

Friday 11/27
...is thinking about putting up some twinkle lights in the window...betcha Eagle will love them. (I know Bear will.)
[Christmas-related stuff is officially allowed now that Thanksgiving has passed]

Oh yeah, we had a homebirth...

A couple of people commented that they thought I was planning a birth center birth, not a homebirth. It's true, at the beginning of this pregnancy I did talk about a birth center as my ideal. At the time it was. However, when we finally found out which city we were moving to, I discovered that the nearest birth center was 80 miles away (remember midwife K who arrived 10 minutes after the birth? She was from the birth center...) I actually considered going there but was hesitant about the distance particularly because my due date was in the wintertime and, well, this is Alaska! So I opted out of the birth center, which left me with either home or the hospital.
I didn't think that Hubby would be comfortable with home (since he wasn't last time), but I had heard such good things about the midwife here that I decided to meet her anyway. I also visited the L&D area of the local hospital, and actually it was quite nice: more birth center-like than I would have expected of a hospital, even in a pretty naturally-minded area. However I still just felt really good about midwife A. So I prayed about it--I told God that I liked the midwife and was feeling drawn to homebirth, but that I needed His go-ahead that this was an appropriate and safe choice for this birth. After all, the vast majority of births are safe at home, but occasionally one isn't, so I figured it made sense to get an ok from Someone who would know.
I continued to feel very peaceful about birthing at home, and as I started trying to visualize labor and birthing I always pictured myself at home (in the dark...see, I did know something!)
When I felt like I knew what I wanted, I talked with Hubby...I told him that I really liked the midwife, and that I wanted her to attend me at home, but that I needed him to be part of the choice, and to be comfortable with what we chose to do. He said that he "would be more comfortable at the hospital," but that he was "ok with home." So I started planning for a homebirth.
We basically adopted a "don't ask don't tell" policy about the homebirth plan though--we answered honestly if someone asked us (only a few people did), but otherwise we didn't volunteer the information. The reason for this was that we knew that some of our family members would worry a great deal over our choice, and we didn't want them to worry (nor to have to listen to their worries). So we simply waited until after Eagle was born and then called them and said "he's here, by the way, he was born at home...yes on purpose..." In the meantime, since we weren't telling our family our plans, it didn't seem appropriate to be telling the rest of the world either. So we didn't.
I used the term "midwife" here on my blog, but I guessed (and rightly) that many people would assume I was seeing a CNM who would attend me in a hospital or birth center. My mother and sister (both homebirthers themselves) saw the term "midwife" and assumed I was planning a homebirth, but I don't think anyone else did. ☺

At my 3-day postpartum home visit, Midwife A asked Hubby if he'd liked homebirth better than the hospital.
He said "yes."
☺

Musings on Movies for Little Kiddos

Anyone who has a toddler or preschooler knows that they like the same things over and over: the same books, the same songs, and the same movies. While I detest using the screen as a babysitter, I’m not opposed to letting a kid watch a movie a few days a week (I usually use the time to get my housework done, to put a baby to sleep, or even take a nap…hey, sometimes I need one!)
Since they always want to watch the same few movies though, I at least try to help them see the lessons contained in those movies.
For example:

• In “Finding Nemo” Nemo’s troubles all began when he disobeyed his father. I won’t argue whether Marlin was overprotective or bossy, I’ll just stick with the simple fact that if Nemo had not ventured into open water he would not have been caught by the diver. Lesson: obey your parents.
• In “The Emperor’s New Groove” Kuzko was mean to Pacha. In fact, he was downright beastly—he lied and tricked Pacha on several occasions. But through it all Pacha forgave him and was nice anyway. Lesson: be nice to people and forgive them no matter what they may do to you.
• “The Incredibles” has a lot of loyalty to family, teamwork, believing in yourself, and working hard.
• “The Lion King” teaches about the circle of life (which I like), and also shows that facing problems works a lot better than running away from them.
• “The Dark Crystal” shows a triumph of peacefulness over violence, and also vindicates hard work and tenacity.
• I like most of the Veggietales too, but of course those were intentionally created to teach lessons, so I figure they are sortof obvious. ☺

And just for the record, here are a couple of movies I am really bothered by (because of the lessons in them)…

• Aladdin—Everybody tells lies and it’s ok so long as you’re a nice guy, and incidentally lying can really pay off if you tell the right lies to the right people, and then apologize a little bit when they catch you.
  
• The Little Mermaid—(besides the immodesty) It’s ok to disobey your parents and do whatever you want because in the end you’ll be right and they’ll be sorry.

Can you think of any children’s movies that you love (or hate) because of the lessons hidden within them?

Eagle's Birth Story

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings that I want to put with this story, but it's taking me a while to get them all into words, and since the story part is actually fairly short, I decided to go ahead and post the facts and then I'll post the thoughtful part later on.


There is a standard which suggests that if mama has contractions that are one minute long, 5 minutes apart, and continue at that rate for an hour, then she is in active labor and should go to the hospital (or call the midwife). In the two weeks prior to Eagle's birth I achieved that status at least four different times, always in the evening. On each occasion, I thought hey, maybe this is finally it...but since the contractions never got closer together or more intense (and in fact always slowed when I laid down for bed, if not when I was snuggling in the kids) then I knew it was not really labor. After three days in a row of it however I did call my midwife just to let her know what was going on. I told her I felt a bit silly calling, because I knew this was not it, but I thought she should know that I was contracting a lot, and regularly. She said that probably my body was warming up, and that as soon as the baby's head engaged I would have a fairly fast labor. She encouraged me to do things that would help him engage (ie--drop down and put pressure on my cervix).

I spent two days doing belly lifts/hip tucks and hip circles (both on and off the ball) trying to get him to descend, but so far as I know he hadn't engaged when I went to bed on Wednesday (my due date). He may have started to engage though, because over the course of the evening I had a half dozen contractions that seemed different from the many previous ones. I can't explain how, they just seemed different... I had a gut feeling that I'd probably wake up in the middle of the night in labor, but since I'd had that feeling on several nights in the prior two weeks I didn't bother to say anything to Hubby, and just went to bed as normal.
Bear woke up around 3, so I got up to comfort him for a few minutes, and as I got back in my own bed I had a really uncomfortable contraction. Then 10 minutes later another--the kind where you think gosh, laying down is terrible, I have to move. 10 minutes later I had a third so I got out of bed to lean on the bathroom counter and do hip circles, and the contractions promptly switched to being 5 minutes apart. After all the false starts I decided to wait another 40 minutes to make sure they kept on consistently before I woke Hubby, but I knew they were going to.

Shortly after 4am I woke Hubby. I told him I was in labor and that I needed him to put up the pool. He didn't know yet that I'd been up for over an hour, and later admitted that he wondered if it was another false start and was very tempted to roll over and go back to sleep. But he got up and started puttering around. I felt terribly impatient at this point and started working on the pool myself--we had inflated it to about 80% two weeks prior so it was quick and easy to finish the job. I think my impatience in getting the pool out helped Hubby realize that I was not at all iffy on whether this was the real thing, and he quickly stepped in to get it done for me. As he was working on the pool he informed me that he was going to have to run in to his classroom briefly, as he'd been working on some things the afternoon before and would need to put them away if a substitute was coming in that day. (After two weeks of figuring that any day could be the day, I guess he had reached the "she's gonna be pregnant forever" state of mind too!) He said he would probably only be gone about 20 minutes, so as soon as he finished inflating the pool I told him to hurry and go because I knew I'd need him soon. We called the midwife to let her know that this was it, and she said to call her back as soon as anything changed and she would come right over. So Hubby left, and I took a shower, lit some candles, and started filling the pool.

While he was gone my contractions continued to be 5 minutes apart. After a little while, needing to convince myself that I was making progress, I decided to do an internal check on myself. I had tried this several times throughout the pregnancy, and especially during the final weeks. During pregnancy the cervix is very high and also tipped to the back, so I was never able to reach it very well (I was familiar with what it felt like when I'm not pregnant because I check it regularly as part of my fertility awareness, but pregnancy is a whole different ballgame!) I had discussed with my midwife how I couldn't feel it, and she said that the height combined with the softness of it in those late weeks was probably why. This time when I reached in though I could clearly feel it: I guessed I was around 3cm dilated and I could feel the sack of waters bulging. The sack is the coolest thing to feel--sortof slippery and slimy but also obviously very strong. I couldn't feel the baby's head behind it, just the squishy edge of the sack, but I knew he must be right there since I was dilating.
I started really focusing myself into the labor. The body can (and will) do the work of birthing pretty much on its own, if mama will just relax and let it do so; on the other hand, if mama will work with her body (as opposed to merely stepping aside for it) then the whole process can be all the more effective and efficient. Ina May Gaskin talks about "integrating" contractions so that you can move forward and into the next level. Birthing From Within teaches a similar notion when it encourages the mother to go into the center of each contraction. So as I leaned against the counter and circled my hips I repeated words like "down" and "center" and "deeper." In the prior couple of weeks I had mentally stumbled upon the image of a drop or stream of water coming down onto a pool and the waves of ripples radiating out from it--so I took that image (with the downward and outward motion) and replayed it in my head over and over.

As soon as Hubby got home (around 5am) my contractions became noticeably more intense. I really think my body was just waiting for him to get home before it allowed labor to progress. I was needing to concentrate enough that I couldn't time them myself anymore, but Hubby said they were still 5 minutes apart. They were stronger though, so we called the midwife. Since my water had not broken, I'd had no bloody show, and they were still 5 minutes apart, she said she'd be over soon but we all understood that she wasn't rushing. Hubby got a quick shower and I got into the pool.
Wow!
I had planned to labor in the water with Bear (although at the hospital they'd have me get out for the actual delivery), but labor had been so long that by the time we got to the hospital I was too tired to do anything but lay on the bed. This time I had had a nap the prior afternoon, plus gotten half a night's sleep prior to waking up in active labor--I was awake enough that I was far more conscious of everything that was going on (I was falling asleep between contractions at the end of Bear's labor). I also had enough energy this time to be upright and moving around, which I believe helped labor progress rapidly...although I think this would have been a faster and more intense labor regardless. In any case, warm water felt fantastic on my hard-working middle and back. I sat down in the water between contractions, but during them I still needed to be up and moving, so I knelt up and leaned on the edge of the pool and continued my hip circles...the only problem was that this brought my hips out of the water (right when I wanted it most!). So Hubby got a saucepan and poured water over my lower back during contractions. I have to say, now that I have labored with water, I cannot fathom wanting to labor without it! I started vocalizing through the contractions--keeping a loose throat can help keep a loose bottom, so a low "ahhhh" while contracting can be helpful--and it simply came naturally.

Midwife A arrived sometime around 6am I think--I was far enough into laborland that I had no concept of time. I had recently checked myself again and estimated that I was around 5cm dilated--still with the bulging waters. Bear had recently wakened and Hubby put on a movie for him. A had me get out of the pool between a couple of contractions so that she could check my vitals and dilation. I knew I was in serious labor because I didn't feel the need to grab a towel or sarong when I got out (I'm normally a very modest person, and had those things on hand because I'd expected to want them). Modesty is one of those things that just goes out the window in labor, which is good because it would be terribly inconvenient if it didn't! I was pleasantly surprised when she reached in and said "you're about 8cm dilated" (she later told me I'd been "a stretchy 8"). I got back into the water for a contraction while she called her associate midwife K (who had a 90 min drive) and got her doppler ready, and then I sat on the birth ball so that A could listen to the baby's heartrate through a couple of contractions. During the first one his heartrate dropped dramatically, but during the second it stayed steady. Contractions can be stressful for the baby, though not usually dangerously so, but she needed to listen through a couple more to determine which result had been the anomaly. The next three contractions--two with Hubby holding under my arms (suspending me), and especially the one laying on the bed--were awful. Contractions are intense anyway, but without the mediating effect of the warm water they were harder to integrate. (Did I really spend an entire labor on a bed last time? Yikes!) Baby's heartrate was stable through the subsequent contractions, so I got back into the pool.

Getting back in the water felt glorious, and was just in time...the next few contractions were stronger and I was getting louder at the peaks. I wasn't focusing myself into them anymore, just trying to stay on top of them and let my body work. I remember thinking that this was awfully hard and I'd rather just stay pregnant, and even that I totally understood why epidurals are popular...and then it hit me that those kinds of thoughts are a sign of being in transition, and that it meant I was in the home stretch! (I don't recall having any of those sorts of thoughts during Bear's labor--presumably because I was too tired to have thoughts that conscious.) Between contractions I stretched out, laying my head on the side of the pool and letting my body float out behind me. (A commented "now that's a woman in labor!" so we took a picture, but I cropped it for the blog...I'm open but not quite that open!)
I guess I woke Wolf at this point--though 7 would have been his normal wake up time anyway--he joined Bear watching the movie. I started feeling pushy. I wasn't sure if it was my body pushing or my mind wanting to push, but I told A because I figured she'd want to check me again to make sure I was fully dilated. That's what they'd done in the hospital after all. But A just said "do what your body wants to do; don't do anything that hurts." What perfect advice for labor! I don't know if the timing was coincidental or if her "giving permission" freed me, but with the next contraction I was definitely pushing, and I was getting louder too. A asked if my water had broken yet, and it hadn't, but within a couple more contractions it did. If feeling the bulging sack with my finger was weird, feeling the sack break spontaneously was really strange! (Bear's water was broken by the OB.) It was something akin to blowing a bubble gum bubble and having it pop all over your face...except of course it wasn't on my face. I really thought there was an audible pop, but I guess in the midst of labor sensory perception is garbled because Hubby and A both said it didn't make noise.
The older boys' movie got over and they came in. Wolf sat back but Bear came right over, put his hand on mine, and started vocalizing with me.
Within another contraction or two I knew things were getting close so I turned over and leaned back against the side of the pool rather than staying on my knees leaning forward. I know a lot of women deliver on their knees or hands and knees, but I wanted to be able to look down and see what was happening. In retrospect this was pointless because I couldn't see around my belly, but at the time it seemed terribly important. I reached in and for the first time felt my baby's head: all soft and wrinkly and covered with hair! The mind definitely doesn't function normally in labor, because I had the momentary thought "he doesn't have a skull" (because I could only feel the soft wrinkles of his scalp). Fortunately the work of pushing distracted me before I had a chance to linger on that notion!
Interestingly, once I turned around I no longer felt contractions nor a physical urge to push. I had a huge mental urge to push, but nothing physical. However I could feel the baby's head coming down so I had no hesitation about pushing like crazy. I'd had a feeling for some time that this baby would be bigger than the last one, so I had mentally geared myself up for a 9 pound baby. As I felt his head begin to enter my birth canal I had the thought that it was impossibly big and would never fit, but there's not really any way but down and out at that point, so I pushed anyway and remarkably enough he slid on down without much trouble at all. Of course sliding down the canal is one thing, actually getting out is another. I don't recall the classic "ring of fire" as he crowned, but I was aware of many hands being there--Hubby was in the pool with me catching the baby, the midwife's hands were supporting my perineum, and I realized that I had reached down to support myself in the front as well. Being part of my own 'catching team' was something I don't think I ever would have done in a hospital, but it came instinctively and I think it helped me not tear. His head came out, but then he stopped at the shoulders. I was pushing but he wasn't budging. Hubby moved aside and A started working the baby back and forth to get him out. My mind started racing with thoughts of shoulder dystocia and I just knew that she was about to tell me to turn over (it's easier to get sd babies out if mama is on hands and knees) and I was just sure she was going to have to break his clavicle to get him out (that's the official procedure if the baby won't come unstuck). All within the moment I was already beginning to mourn my baby's broken shoulder...but A never asked me to flip over. I felt pulling and stretching that made delivering the head feel like birthing a pillow (A later told me that she had her hands "in there with him" to get him free), and then suddenly she was done and Hubby was handing me the baby and A was putting a towel around the little one.

The first moments after birth are so precious, just staring into the eyes of my new little one and realizing the blessing of being part of a miracle.

I hadn't been able to see it, but Eagle had a nuchal hand (his hand was by his face as he was born, so although his head measurement was 36cm, the addition of his hand made it 38cm--15 inches). Hubby and A were discussing the nuchal hand when I felt a uterine twinge and knew it was time to deliver the placenta. I started to hand Eagle off to someone when I realized we hadn't cut his cord so he was still attached to me. I pulled back the towel to expose the cord and discovered that it had broken on its own! I had never heard of such a thing (and I have read a lot of birth stories). A said that it happens occasionally, but is very rare. She clamped it to make sure he did not lose any blood through it, and then turned to help me with the placenta. Delivering the placenta is easy--it doesn't have any bones. ☺
An unmedicated birth is followed by a rush of adrenalin, so I climbed out of the pool and took a quick shower. While I was showering midwife K arrived. Both A and K commented that I seemed very lively for someone who had given birth just minutes before...I wasn't trying to be lively or anything else, I just felt fantastic and ecstatic (and very glad to have the baby on the outside!). I climbed into my bed (how wonderful to be able to get right into my own bed!) and tried to get Eagle to nurse. He wasn't interested for a while, in spite of Bear telling him that nurn was good and he should try it. Wolf cut the umbilical cord (closer to his navel, as the break was several inches down). After we'd all had a chance to cuddle the baby a bit A examined me. She said that between the nuchal hand, the big head, and the stuck shoulder she'd expected to have a big sewing job, but somehow I had no tearing at all. I don't know if it was being in water, being well-supported, being relaxed, my prenatal diet, or something else, but A pronounced that I had "a beautiful vagina" and after double-checking that there was not even a skidmark, she tucked me back into bed with my baby.

B C Brighton
Born on November 12, 2009 at 8:03am
8lbs even, 20.75inches long, 36cm (14.5in) head (Bear was 7lb1oz, 19.5in, but his head was the same size!).


This labor was shorter but more intense than my last one. I was more conscious of everything, but also more in control. I do not have regrets over my choices nor the events of my first birth; in fact Bear was not even an hour old when I told Hubby "I could do that again!" (a sentiment I did not feel for a couple of days this time). However if I could choose one labor & birth to repeat in the future, it would definitely be Eagle's.

Facebook Fri-er-Saturday

(hey, I have a new baby in the house, and when Hubby is home there's a sort of loss of sense of which day of the week it is...)

Saturday 11/14
Jenni always forgets just how tiny newborns are...even newborns who are a lot bigger than their brothers were!

Monday 11/16
...now knows the official score: dimpled children--2, undimpled children--1. Welcome to mama's team [Eagle]!!

Tuesday 11/17
...is writing out the birth story
I'm still writing...the story part is short and simple, but my thoughts and feelings about it are not so simple...it will probably have to be two posts.

Wednesday 11/18
(evening)
Jenni's toddler is asking for airplane cookies (as he flies the cookie cutter around the house). I DID offer to make cookies together since he didn't get to go to scouts with daddy and big brother, but in spite of my attempts to explain it he doesn't seem to understand that the airplane cookie dough has to be chilled for several hours and thus won't work for tonight.

Friday 11/20
...no longer has to feel guilty: baby is in cloth now ☺
I was feeling a little guilty for putting him in disposable diapers for the first week or so (just as long as one package lasted)--not for environmental reasons, but for the comfort of it (because I had cloth for me during that time). ☺

Quirky Thursday--I'm Weirder Than You

You know how there are some things that everyone likes, or that everyone dislikes? We have these seemingly universal human preferences, and then someone like me comes along and ruins everything.
I don’t like peanut butter cookies.
I don’t like ginger snaps.
I don’t like Jane Austin books.
I hate shopping for clothing.

…on the other hand…
I don’t mind grocery shopping.
I don’t mind doing laundry (and I don’t let it stack up).
I don’t mind scrubbing the kitchen floor--it gives me a wonderful sense of accomplishment.
I prefer kneading bread by hand
I don’t mind bathing the dog.
I got rid of my kitchenaide because I prefer mixing most things by hand.

So, how about it, where do you break the rules of normalcy?

"The Vulnerability of Men"

This is excerpted from an essay by Vincent Bach (you can read the full text here). He was born in the 60s in the USA when almost all boys were circumcised, but "by a fluke" as he says, he was left intact. He was aware of the difference from a very early age, and has written a number of essays about the issue. Incidentally, he is grateful for that "fluke" and strongly opposes circumcision.
As most of my readers probably know by now, I oppose routine infant circumcision. In talking with other mothers though, I find that many of them don't like the idea, but when they bring it up with their husbands, the father is insistent on circumcising so mom gives in and goes with it in spite of her feelings on the matter. For those mothers in particular, I share this essay.

First of all, you need to understand that circumcised men are cornered on this issue. They were circumcised without their consent and have no inherent knowledge of what being intact is like. Even though they rarely will discuss the issue, they are keenly aware that they have been surgically altered in a very private way. There are several ways for a man to deal with this issue but the safest way, psychologically speaking, is to believe at all cost that the surgery performed on them was an enhancement and is preferred by women. Confirmation of this belief is essential to their sexual self-image. Do I need to tell you that sexual self-image is a major issue for men? Didn’t think so.

Now put yourself in the shoes of the circumcised man. He asks for very little. All he wants is football on Sunday and to be assured that there is nothing wrong with his package. A nice bonus would be that women actually prefer it the way it is. Then along comes the newly pregnant wife and the issue of circumcision is no more personal to her than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and she starts openly discussing it with him with all the casualness that she would with her gal pals down at the salon. Yikes! Batten down the hatch. Incoming torpedo!!!! At first the strategy is to dismiss her without appearing to be alarmed. He’ll probably toss back the usual "It's not clean" or "That could cause health problems" hoping this will scare her off since he assumes she’s heard those things before. He won’t seem particularly disturbed at first. Its part of being a man to not show vulnerability.

(continued)

I think it's important to acknowledge that its perfectly understandable that our circumcised friends react this way. Men who have been circumcised have an extremely difficult dilemma. For them to acknowledge that the practice is unnecessary and harmful means that they must acknowledge a painful personal reality. For that reason circumcised men can be forgiven if they don't want to lead the parade in the fight against routine infant circumcision. I can empathize and therefore understand completely why so many men will voluntarily offer their sons up for the same procedure without giving it a second thought. To do otherwise opens them up to some vulnerable feelings that can be most unpleasant. Society puts lots of expectations on women but it also puts a couple on men. One of them is that he be sexually virile. You know - masculine, strong, potent GRRRRR!! I think many circumcised men accept without question and perpetuate the myths regarding the intact penis in order to cope with this particular expectation.

So, the problem is how do we save our son’s genitals without psychologically emasculating their fathers?

Hmm...well I think the first step is having a better understanding of just how personal an issue this is for him. The reason I spent so long discussing it is because it's extremely important and he’s not going to tell you about it.

Going into the discussion, you’ll be much better off knowing what’s really bothering him. Trust me, he really doesn’t give a hooey whether his son’s penis looks like his. What is important is that his bulb is not dimmed. Probably not a good idea to refer to the practice in initial discussions as genital mutilation (although it certainly is that). The thing that you need to get across to him with all your female charm is that you love him EXACTLY the way he is and wouldn’t change a thing. In other words, I think the best strategy is probably to build him up as high as you can before lowering this boom on him. The ship can only take a hit so big before going under. So get your armor out and start fortifying his self-image. What means everything to him is that he is the best lover and provider that you could ever hope for.
Please don’t use my lame words exactly. I ain’t got no feminine charm :-). I suspect you get it and can take it from here. Ironically, if you succeed, you’ll be giving your man a huge future reward in that his son will someday be a man and will know all too well the tremendous courage it took for his father to break with this barbaric custom and leave him intact.

You can read further writings of Vincent Bach here.

Facebook Saturday ☺

Sat 11/7
Jenni just noticed a dusting of snow on the ground...last summer I was trying to help Bear understand when the baby would come, and told him "after the snow comes." This last week I was thinking our mild autumn would make a liar out of me, but I guess not. Maybe this is what baby was waiting for?!

• Bear just went and looked out the window at the snow coming down and said "hey mommy, our baby is all ready to come out!!"
• For the last three days every evening has been sprinkled with good contractions for several hours, but they always petered out when I went to bed. This morning though I'm already getting a few, so who knows, maybe today will do it! It's not really a storm out there...just a dusting so far, with more gently sifting down...but if it keeps up for a few hours we'll get a decent accumulation, so we'll just have to see!

Sunday 11/8
7:33am
...is somewhat annoyed that the boy who can hardly drag himself out of bed at 7am on a school day has NO trouble getting up at 6 on the weekend to play computer games (but can't manage to take a break long enough to put on a Wiggles movie for his now-awakened toddler brother so I have to get up too).


Monday 11/9
8:11am
...spent most of the night fighting with my unborn child. He thought it was a good idea to kick my rib. I didn't. I pushed that foot away a LOT of times. Just come on down and out kiddo, then you can stretch your legs all you want!
1:07pm
...is doing hip circles on the birth ball. Move down baby, engage, move down...


Tuesday 11/10
8:17am
...watched a house a block away burn to the ground in under 15 minutes last night. The family escaped safely but has *nothing* but the clothes on their backs. It really makes you stop and think about what is really important in life.
11:13pm [Hubby was stuffed up and it made him snore and I couldn't sleep]
...is accepting that 2ish weeks of laborish stuff + no baby = no baby will ever come out and she will be pregnant forever. That's labor math for you!!


Wednesday 11/11
...just published the 40 wk belly photos. Hmm, didn't get to do that last time since Bear was born before the EDD.
[Guess I got those just in time, eh? I had planned to take some belly shots in labor which is what I did with Bear, but from the time I woke up in labor there was no way I was going to stand still long enough to pose for pictures because contractions are much easier when moving!]


Thursday 11/12
...announces the arrival of [Eagle], born at home in the water and into daddy's hands at 8:03am. 8lbs even, 14.5in head AND *nuchal hand, and mama has not so much as a **skidmark. (Yay for waterbirth!)
*A Nuchal hand means that rather than his arms being down at his sides, his hand was up at his head--in this case, on his cheek. It is not uncommon (I looked it up and it seems it may be as frequent as 15-20% of babies), but it does mean that the baby's head--already usually the biggest/hardest part to birth--now has something next to it as well so even MORE stretching is required. Nuchal hands are not dangerous, but they do usually involve tearing for mama. My thoughts on why I didn't tear will be included with the birth story which I'll probably get written and posted sometime in the coming week.
**A 'skidmark' is a very small tear, often not even stitched because it's so minor.