One Last Christmas

During this season of giving, of family, of celebrating that which is most sacred to our hearts, consider this; if you knew this would be your last Christmas, what would you do?



In loving memory of all of our children who have gone too early, and all of our loved ones we are cherishing in heart and mind.

A Vision

I have a vision for my future.

I am destined to be a midwife, it is in my dreams almost nightly, it is in the movement of my hands, the networkings of my mind. It is in my soul.

This is a fact. It is not a future possibility, but a reality already purposed in the near tomorrows.

I see women, being supported, being attended to, and my presence is there.

I see a House, with a wrap-around porch, a full garden, and a number of birthing rooms. I see semi-self sustaining acreage that has livestock and chickens, a well and outbuildings. I see a community room open and accessible to any practitioner of Mother-Friendly and Baby-Friendly care. I see a lending library for families and a movie room for weekly showings. I hear women in the halls making birth noises and see women in the garden, wearing their babies as they harvest the crop.

I pause to see a group of youngsters practicing yoga on the hill behind the House and see fathers getting ready for market. I hear young couples learning to cook good, wholesome, healthy meals in the kitchen on a budget.

I see the single young woman, with no resources and a ripe belly, coming to my House, knowing that she will find a room, training and skills for the workforce, education and preparedness for her upcoming birth and parenting, and a safe haven for comfort and loving, nonjudgemental, community.

And then I see, when I am ripe and old and gray, a Sailboat. This Sailboat will take my lover and I away to distant countries where our hands and hearts can be used by those who need it most. And our House will be well cared for, by a community that loves it and what it is: a Home for all families. And though a day will come where the Sailboat no longer guides us to foreign soil, and our ears no longer hear the chatter of the House - the House will stand for generations, and another pair of hearts and hands will unfurl the Sail for distant lands.

This is my vision.

Now, for the less pleasant part...

I need to pay for my education to get there. My tuition isn't much in the long run, but it's a lot for this family to pay. This is a very humble, but unabashed request. If you can afford to spare some change, know that every penny that you donate would go directly to pay for my training and education to bring my vision of the future to a modern day reality.

No pressure, but, if you could, I, my family, and those families whose lives I will become a part of in the future, would be eternally grateful for the help. There is a donate button on the left hand column that has been added. That's all.

Mirrors

I am 5
I look in the mirror and
I am beautiful
Rounded face
and dimpled cheeks
soft and full
a princess
whirl and twirl
for daddy
braids and curls
from mommy
Daddy calls me princess
Mommy calls me gorgeous

I am 7
I look in the mirror and
I see what I want, not what I am
I hate my hair
I want to look like Susie
I fall and rip my jeans
and momma gets mad
Tomboy, says daddy
with no adoration
gangly and clumsy
Daddy is too busy for spinning
and momma misses dinner

I am 14
I look in the mirror and
I am ugly
Braces, pimples
buttons, not breasts
I have curves
in all the wrong places
Commercials say
tuck this, paint that
Mediocre
Dad doesn't hug me
Mom gives me diet books

I am 17
My boyfriend is my mirror
He says I am beautiful
when I let him touch me
My friend's are my mirror
They say I am beautiful
When I deprive myself
Society is my mirror
and it says I am beautiful
If I pluck, puke, and show skin
The mirror on my wall
betrays me
I am lost

I am 24
I have ditched the mirror
I am awkwardly searching
My father is distant
My mother is critical
my belly swells with new life
But I am ok
My friends have issues
But they are not mine
I grow, I change
I learn to love myself

I am 30
I am my own mirror
pleasantly curvy
in all places
consciously living
comfortable in my own skin
tying my daughter's hair
in pigtails
and watching my partner
twirl and whirl with her
We eat, we breathe, we live
and I am beautiful

I am 40
My daughter is my mirror
She is confident
and she is healthy
We learn together
we laugh together
she knows she is lovely
dad holds her tight
and I learn to let her go
she is beautiful


I am 50
The world is my mirror
my friends are few
but precious
my parents are flawed
but forgiven
my partner is lined
but lovely
my happiness is in
what I do, who I am
And I am balanced

I am 65
My body is my mirror
I have lines on my eyes
from smiling
I have sun spots
from adventuring
I have wiry hair
from sleeping in
I have sagging breasts
and silver lines
from bringing forth life
I am beautiful to my partner
I am life, personified

I Heard It On The L&D Floor

So, I heard the following in the halls of the L&D ward a few days ago,

"Ooops, I guess she was supposed to get the pitocin, wrong chart" and off rushed the nurse. That is more than just a little frightening to think that someone on that floor was given the wrong 'treatment' and the wrong chart was being reviewed.

I sent a little prayer up right then that it was not a serious mistake and that the mom and baby were fine.

Just one more reason for a continuous, active advocate to attend you during labor and birth, whether it is a doula, your sister, best friend, mom, or partner.

Autumn Rain Birthing

Tendrils of dreams cling like tacky webbing to my mind, dusty purple and muddy yellow.

Inhaling, I turn to hold the warm body next to me against my chest.

I hear the melodic hum of notice. No more rest this night.

Even before pressing the phone to my ear, I can hear your breathing, deep and powerful. I offer a wordless murmur of acknowledgment.

Breath. It's time. Sigh, then laughter like wind chimes. Come now, you say.

I smile, ok.

Pressing my lips against the neck of my lover, I whisper goodbye. He smiles and turns over.

As I move silently through the house, making ready for your birthing time, I hear the tappa tappa of rain begin it's cadence on the roof.....

... Hand paused over your doorknob, I think of the silent shadows of hundreds of women around the world birthing with you. Quiet prayer, turning knob.

I shed my shoes in the entry, this is holy ground. Midwife whispers all is well, you have been asking for me.

I make my way to your room, following the sounds of low moaning and gentle rustling. Peppered in among the warm sounds of birth is a man's voice, a lover's murmuring.

Stopping at the door to your room, I lean against the frame - blushing at the intensity of his love, I watch your partner caress your belly while you lean back against him in the timeless dance of birth.

He sees me in the doorway and beckons me in with one hand. Sensing my gaze, you open your eyes, crookedly and bashfully grin, hi.

Joining you in the candlelight, we speak without words. Two women in the ancestry of motherhood.

Guiding my hands around your swollen and glistening abdomen, you draw another wave from your womb.

You lock your hands around your lovers neck. He draws a deep breath from your hair and begins to slowly sway, running his fingertips across your breasts and shoulders.

Softly roving my fingers in miniature spirals, I feel the contraction of your womb expand through your soul and your head begins to rock from side to side. Moans ripple from your lips as you bend your knees to embrace the strength of your work.

Drumming cadence echos from the roof as heaven opens its flood gates and distant rumblings beat out drums of deep remembrance.

We move in perfect synchrony. Space pulls in and we are solitude.

As a vapor, Midwife moves in and out, lovingly guiding, quietly listening. Following your lead as your expanses roll from your most inner parts to draw us closer. time stands still.

Water

Lower

Pressure

Lover

Lips and smiles, softened edges and deep intones

Lower

Powerful

Pressure

Present becomes as you keen at the crest of a wave. Crimson trail and a trickling stream traces a rivulet down your thigh. You drop gracefully to your knees, and we follow in adoration. Nestled between your lover and friend, you whisper, blessing.

Bodies rustle in the dim light and someone places a vial of oil in my open hand. Midwife softly breaths ancient tongues in lilting rhythms, the blessing of the womb is drawn in slippery syllables across your body, your temple.

In deep timbres, like honey and incense, a prayer drifts towards the rafters...

Dominus custodiet te Dominus protectio tua super manum dexteram tuam

In hushed worry, you whimper doubt into my throat. I lift your chin to see my eyes. Clear and promising. You look hesitant to Midwife, she is strong and smiling.

Sighing into the crook of lovers arms, releasing, you plant your earthen foot upon the ground and move forward. Timelessly, in the most ancient of positions, you press down toward terra firma.

Midwife presses, softly, on babies entrance. Soon.

Lover, his melody continues...

auxilium meum a Domino factore caeli et terrae

Glistening power crowns your brow as you grip my wrists, intently your eyes stare through me and your breath catches in the most primal of moments. Life water flows freely from you as your vessel tips to pour out this side of heaven.

The static crackling of anticipation hovering like a current through our bodies; I wait eager and breathless. We all fall silent as you reach a hand into the river.

Joy, tears, a moments rest. Then moving down once more.

Pressing like a silky soft pearl against taut ribbons of flesh, I can see new life. Your fingers flutter over his crown as you shake loose your other hand.

Your lover releases his hold on you while keeping his body pressed against you. My hands move to your feet while midwife guides your hands.

Surrounded, supported, this pearl becomes flesh, and the flesh becomes child. As you cradle his head, he opens his eyes.

A crooning, a candle flickers, and his shoulders slip free. Water and blood and baby, cascade in perfect harmony, as you wrap your child against your breast in triumphant shout.

The rain abruptly stops. Silence echos, adoring tears... a child's first cry.

Welcome Caeli!

Creativity

hmmm... did you know I like to create? Some of my experiments...

"New Life Came Like a Gentle and Rolling Wind"

"Silenced"

"Bountiful"

I had a client who made a placenta print as well. I can't wait to see it when she has a moment. :o)

Drums of Skin and Blood, Temples of Obstare

It is late, and the house is quiet. Rain drops like the beat of a Chinese drum. Deep and relentless; red with my blood, my mind, my heart, as I petition... And I ask, as I often ask in the moments between time, space, breath, and life: what now?

I cannot blame the majority of humankind to understand the depth of a woman's soul as it splits to welcome her babe through the portal of pleasure and pain, through her own power - when her moanings call to the spirit of her baby to enter his lungs in a newborns hark. I cannot expect it when the majority of our culture has not been granted that grace.

I cannot blame the Obstetricians, and even, at times, the midwives, who have traded their Midewiwin for mashkiki. They have replaced their hearts with their heads, their poultice for pocketbooks, and their trust with control. They have spent 4 years and more repeating that man's body is broken and are reinforced through the textbooks they are taught from. Their god is Abaddon and its image is mankind.

I cannot blame the woman who was raised to fear and loathe her body and it's functions, when she strives for man's image of perfection and falls short. Media teaches her to refuse her intuition as it is woman's folly and, instead, to prostrate herself for positions of power.

And I beat my drum...

We are a society that is so far removed from sanity and humanity that few bat an eye when organizations make threats to attempt controlling how we give life and yet we nod in stoic agreement when a boy is given the power to choose his death. I cannot blame them, but I cannot absolve either.

In it's control of the Temple of Medicine, the rule of Obstare does not allow for man to 'give' a laboring woman space and grace, time and trust. I refuse to follow the doctrine of man, and I remove myself from his temple.

We are not asking to be saved from the pain of birth, because we will loose more than the pleasure, we will loose humanity. We are not asking to be allowed to birth in our preference, for it is no longer an option.

For in this space, while pounding my rhythms on red drums of skin and blood, I realize I am not asking anymore. I will not ask, I will take. I will not wait for permission or allowance, I will expect. Humanity should expect.

We should expect for mankind to move their sluggish and dirtied knees off of the dusty floor of an archaic temple cathedral erected to man's infallibility and see that, indeed, man is fallible. In his wisdom, doctrine, and practice he has opposed humanity.

The rape of a woman's right, her child's right, to humane bearing is not a question - it is a statement. There is a movement of women who find their knees bent, no longer at the shrine of a tyrant, but at the opening to the universe.

There is a movement of women who lend their ears, not to the inveiglers whose sullied priest clothes belay their true allegiance, but to the mouths of sage feminine.

And we will swell in number and in purpose. And, in time, the priests of Abaddon will raise thier fists to haughtily crow their divine liturgy, and be met with silence. The dusty rafters will spill no power, and their instruments of worship will rust from lack of use. And Obstare will loose it's elephantine visage and reveal itself as the fallible tower of tissue and print that it is.

And I beat my drum....

9/11

Oh the wonderful read that met my eyes this morning. Many of us still remember, still recall, still are affected by, the events of 9/11. I am one of those. When I rolled out of bed this morning the first thing that pressed in on my mind was where I was at when the events of 9/11 unfolded.

When I logged on this morning, I found doulamomma's post. I will repost the article she cites.

Childbirth Education and Doula Care During Times of Stress, Trauma, and Grieving
Debra Pascali-Bonaro, BEd, CD(DONA)

"Immediately after the events of September 11, 2001, I was privileged to play a unique role: coordinating a volunteer program to provide support and service to pregnant women in the greater New York/New Jersey area, where I live, who had been widowed by the terrorist attack. The result was an unprecedented collaborative effort supported by numerous related agencies and individual providers. Despite the group’s impressively amassed knowledge and resources, we identified many gaps in our understanding of how to address the needs of the widows of 9/11 and, in addition, how to generalize such understanding for the needs of other pregnant women in our area who were experiencing stress, trauma, and grief for any reason."

On this day, a day of remembrance, let us honor those whose lives were cut short too quickly, those they left behind, and the volunteers, like Operation Special Delivery (OSD), who continue to give hope and testament to all that is good and right with mankind in a time where there seems to be so much evil and wrong.

If you are an expectant mama, and your partner has been injured, lost their life, or will be deployed/active during your birthing time, you are eligible for the free-services of OSD.

And finally, since we are on the topic of stress, trauma, grief, volunteer support, and the like, let us not forget both the women who volunteer for The Birth Attendants, but also the women they support.

In the Beginning

In the beginning, there was man... and there was woman

Man looked at woman with love, and she gave her body to him willingly

And it was good.

In the beginning, there was love, and there was ecstasy

And, like all things of worth, it was sometimes hard

But it was good.

In time, there was a seed...... and a fertile space

And the two met, and the fertile space welcomed the seed

And it was good.

In time, there was joy, and there was expectation

And, like all things of worth, it was sometimes trying

But it was good.

And when the time was ripe, there was a move... and a cresting wave

And the two asked the woman to trust them, and she gave her body to it willingly

And it was good.

And when the time was ripe, there was elation, and work

And, like all things of worth, it was sometimes intense

But it was good.

In a moment, there was a life.... and a breath

And the two joined into a cry, a child

And it was good.

In a moment, there was three, and it was overwhelming

And, like all things of worth, it was sometimes humbling

But it was good.

In breaths and tears, there was touch

And there was warm milk and there were warmer bodies

And it was good.

In breaths and tears, a child grew, and a family florished

And, like all things of worth, it was sometimes frustrating

But it was good.

In years and lifetimes, a woman nourished

And a man loved deeply, and the child opened to receive them willingly.

And it was good.

In years and lifetimes, life became self, and self brought love full-circle

And, like all things of worth, it was sometimes heartbreaking

But it was good

And then...

In time...

there was man... and woman... and breath

became love

became work

became life.

And it was good.

Birth, Abbreviated

One of my favorite blog posts of all time is so simple. Doulicia created a post called Your Birth In Abbreviated Form. It received a wonderful response. I would like to see what you all can do.

The rule is simple: describe your birth(s) in 6 words. One tip from the compiler is to be specific. So.... I'll start us out with mine.

#1 - Small Pill, Medium Baby, Big Cut
#2 - Spine on spine, hold on, pushing...
#3 & 4 - two babies, one labor, fast miracle.
#5 - Holy Mary Mother Joseph - not Catholic.


Now it's your turn!

Bible Births - A Hebrew Son

The following is the fictional account of a birth in Biblical times. Let me know if you can figure out whose birth this is...

Abira was my mother’s age. In the dim candlelight, I knelt at her quivering and moist thigh. She let out a guttural moan as I felt her taut stomach grow firm and peaked under my sweaty palm. I was captivated as she worked to bring her third child into the world. The soft folds of her vulva swelled and parted – like a sun-warmed, ripened date splitting wetly and sweetly.

“Oh, it’s coming”, she groaned, as the tendons in her neck strained with the force of her womb. She had been working at her birthing time for only a few hours.

“Pakai, the cloth”, murmured grandmother Shiprah.

I glanced to my left to see an old towel piled on top of a low table in Abira’s modest one-room home. Merriam, Abira’s young daughter, quickly passed it to me before retreating to her corner once again.

I gathered it in one hand and passed it under Abira’s bulging bottom to grandmother, whose weathered and wrinkly hands sat poised, perfectly still, to greet this new life. I had been grandmother's attendant for many seasons now, and it seemed God's people, my people, were becoming increasingly fruitful.

“Abira!” a bellowing voice came from outside. It was Abira’s husband, home too early from working the fields. Grandmother stole a quick glance to the door and nodded at me once. The birthing time of a woman was nothing for a man to see, especially an anxious one. And, especially in these times, he had to keep quiet. We didn’t want news of her birthing time to spread too quickly.

I gathered up the hem of my robe from under me, pushed up from the ground and ran outside, closing the door behind me.

The glaring light of the setting sun assaulted my eyes. I squinted toward the shadowy figure of Abira's husband, silhouetted against the late-day sun, “Sir, please quiet down. Your wife is in the final throws and this is not the time for you to be with her." I lowered my voice to a whisper, "Soon you will have a child.”

“Another child, a blessing” He said distractedly, shifting his weight.

“Yes. But the best for you to do is stay quietly at the door until we call for you. Then you can come to her side. We can’t let anyone know about your child’s birth until…”

He nodded, understanding. He stared anxiously at the door as I backed toward it, intent on returning to grandmother’s side.

Back in Abira’s birthing room, grandmother knelt as a woman in prayer at the open space between Abira’s thighs. They shook uncontrollably and Abira looked toward the ceiling while muttering under her breath. I hastened to Abira’s side. Her arms pressed up firmly from the small perch of the birthing stool, which she was using to keep herself off of the ground.

Her knees sank stiffly into a firm squat and, between ankle bones, a small, wet, dark head rested in grandmother’s ancient hands.

I looked to the young girl huddled in the corner; Merriam would not be able to help. Until now the youngest child of Abira, this was the first birth she had ever seen.

I stepped behind Abira, urging her by softly brushing her hair back from her forehead, to lay her head back against my stomach. Sweat coursed down her strong back as she surrendered against my body. She sighed back, and only then did I hear what words uttered from her quick breaths.

“Glorious Yahweh, sweet promise; Help me be worthy. Help me now, Elohim. Sustain your people and multiply our numbers.”

As another birthing pain pulled her forward into a curve, I steadied her shoulders. Her face pulled into a grimace of concentration. A small gasping shriek pulled her up straight as her child’s shoulders slipped, one at a time, from her body.

A gloriously sweet and slippery body followed immediately and grandmother looked up into Abira’s moist face. Abira opened her eyes as a smile bowed across her dark tawny features. Reaching down, she gathered the quiet babe into her arms. Immediately, she pulled at the neck of her tunic to free her breast, offering it to the newborn.

“What is it?” asked a timid voice from the corner.

“Merriam, come meet your new brother,” whispered Abira.

As grandmother Shiprah used a flat piece of bark from their wood pile to scrape the birthing fluids to into a neat pile, I began changing the straw in their bed-mat, covering it with clean and soft cotton sheets.

Grandmother saw the afterbirth bulging at Abira’s opening and urged her to stand and then squat down to release it. The after birth slid free of her body and grandmother caught it in a large wooden bowl, which now also held the birthing clothes, sopped with birth fluid, the piece of bark, and some swept up sand from the floor.

Sifting through grandmother's satchel, I brought out a few instruments and herbs. I threw a handful of turmeric, ginger, fennel, and clove into the pot of hot water setting on the fire pit.

I gave grandmother a small piece of twine, which she tied tightly around the cord before cutting it with a small sharp blade, which I also handed to her. I then dipped a cup of tea from the fire and handed it to Abira.

Grandmother and I washed Abira with the remaining hot water from the pot, wrapped soft strips of cloth between her legs and over her hips, helped her into a fresh tunic, and moved her to the clean, fresh bed.

After both baby and Abira were comfortable, we left Merriam with orders to make a thick lamb and root vegetable stew to help Abira regain her strength. On the way out of their home, grandmother whispered to the father that they had a son. He glanced toward the street before entering his home, throwing the latch after he crossed the threshold.

This was the birth of a Hebrew son, we would not be announcing it with joy to friends as we once would have. This was a secret birth, one that the Egyptian Pharaoh would, prayerfully, never hear of.

- Nicole D July 1, 2008

Munchausen Obstetrics

Munchausen Syndrome: a psychiatric disorder in which those affected fake disease, illness, or psychological trauma in order to draw attention or sympathy to themselves. It is in a class of disorders known as factitious disorders which involve "illnesses" whose symptoms are either self-induced or falsified by the patient. It is also sometimes known as hospital addiction syndrome.

Let's see by raise of hands how many of us have witnessed or met Obstetricians who exhibit many of the symptoms of Munchausen's Syndrome?

Every once in awhile I bring this great article back in my www-sphere. The following is letter written by Rich Winkel of Columbia, MO

I've been horrified to discover a pattern of wholesale institutionalized medical malpractice and quackery surrounding the business of birth and child health. I can't account for how this could have come to pass, but the science is difficult to ignore.

First let me mention the epidemiology: a steadily rising rate of symptoms of trauma and brain damage, including ADHD, autism, mental illness and addiction among US-born people, a trend dating back to the post-WWII period when certain obstetrical practices became commonplace.

These practices are now thoroughly entrenched and seem to be immunefrom appeals to science, human rights or common sense. It appears that medicine views the bodies of women and children as some kind of empty wilderness waiting to be conquered and colonized.

I assume you're familiar with some of the huge body of research relating to the enduring effects of early imprinting and abuse of children. Everything from post traumatic stress to sadism, suicide and specific suicide methods have been strongly connected to early experiences in infancy. The implication is that this is the most pivotal time to ensure that the rights and well-being of children are respected and protected, not just for their sake, but for the sake of the people who's lives they impact as adults.

Briefly, this crucial imperative is simply a non-factor in American birthing practices. The huge dinosaur of american obstetrics is creating generation after generation of unconsciously traumatized and often subtly brain-damaged people, people whose lives are often subsequently burdened with criminal behavior, learning difficulties, ADHD, addiction, depression and other mental illnesses and symptoms of brain damage. These iatrogenic outcomes are entirely preventable, in fact in most cases can be avoided at less cost than the procedures which cause them. The question of whose interests are served by making birth needlessly difficult I'll leave to your imagination.

The american way of birth (unfortunately spreading world wide) has now been linked to large increases in rates of mental ailments including depression, anxiety disorders, substance abuse and dependencies by at least 2 large well controlled studies, which both studiously avoided the most obvious conclusion.

http://www.sciencenews.org/pages/sn_arc98/9_19_98/fob1.htm
http://www.math.missouri.edu/~rich/MGM/birthUSA2.txt

Post traumatic stress reactions have been noted in american infants returning to hospitals, again while neglecting the obvious possibility that they were remembering birth trauma.http://www.math.missouri.edu/~rich/MGM/old...oop.com/newsdet
ail/93/512690.html

In fact these researchers actually call for more medical intervention to treat "mentally ill infants." The level of denial going on in medicine surely deserves a DSM category all its own.

Furthermore, most of the medical "heroics" which lead to these iatrogenic outcomes are a product of legal pressures and medical culture and incentives rather than responses to actual medical crises. For instance:

1) "The majority of hospitals and obstetricians in this country (still) insist on a birthing position that quite literally makes the baby, following the curve of the birth canal, be born heading upwards.

States Williams: "The most widely used and often the most satisfactory (position for delivery) is the dorsal lithotomy position on a delivery table with leg supports" (Cunningham et al. 1989:315). No reasons why this position is "the most satisfactory" are given, but a strong clue is provided in an earlier text:

The lithotomy position is the best. Here the patient lies with her legs in stirrups and her buttocks close to the lower edge of the table. The patient is in the ideal position for the attendant to deal with any complications which may arise (Oxorn and Foote 1975:110)

"This position, in other words, is the easiest for performing obstetric interventions, including maintaining sterility, monitoring fetal heart rate, administering anesthetics, and performing and repairing episiotomies (McKay and Mahan 1984:111).

"Roberto Caldeyro-Barcia, past president of the International Federation of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, states unequivocally, "Except for being hanged by the feet, the supine position is the worst conceivable position for labor and delivery""

Lithotomy Position

http://www.birthingnaturally.net/barp/lithotomy.html

This dysfunctional medicalized birthing position is the cause of most difficulties and medical interventions in birth, interventions which are often traumatic and dangerous to both the baby and the mother.

2) "Immediate clamping of the umbilical cord at birth has become a standard procedure during the past two decades. This merits investigation as the cause of increased incidence of autism. Clamping of the umbilical cord before the lungs function induces a period of total asphyxia and produces severe hypovolemia by preventing placental transfusion - a 30% to 50% loss of blood volume – resulting in a hypoxic, ischemic neonate at risk for brain damage.

As in circulatory arrest and other factors that disrupt aerobic metabolism, damage of brainstem nuclei and the cerebellum can result.

Visible damage seen in some cases of autism also involves brainstem nuclei and the cerebellum. The brainstem auditory pathway is especially vulnerable to brief total asphyxia. Impairment of the auditory system can be linked to verbal auditory agnosia, which underlies the language disorder in some children with autism.

Due to blood loss into the placenta, the immediately clamped neonate is very prone to develop infant anemia that has been widely correlated with mental deficiency and learning / behavior disorders that become evident in grade school.

We propose that increased incidence of autism, infant anemia, childhood mental disorders and hypoxic ischemic brain damage, all originate at birth from one cause - immediate umbilical cord clamping.

This deserves to be investigated as extensively as genetics or exposure to toxic substances as an etiological factor for autism. Normal cord closure, with placental oxygenation and transfusion, prevents asphyxia and ischemia.

Allowing physiological cord closure at every delivery could at least reduce the incidence of birth brain injuries."

"Immediate clamping of the umbilical cord before the child has breathed (ICC) has been condemned in obstetrical literature for over 200 years. [1] [2] In the 1970s, primate research [A][3][4] using ICC to produce neonatal asphyxia resulted in brain lesions similar to those of human neonatal asphyxia."

http://www.cordclamp.com

The trauma of being asphyxiated at birth after losing half your blood to the placenta can only be imagined.

3) "In 1975, the College Entrance Examination Board commissioned an advisory panel to examine the possible reasons for an alarming continuing decline in the scores of high school students on the Scholastic Aptitude Tests or, "SAT's," a decline which had started with the 18-year-olds born in 1945 and thereafter.

From 1963 to 1977, the score average on the verbal part of the SAT's fell 49 points. The mathematical scores declined 31 points. (1)(...)

"The SAT is designed to be an unchanging measurement. Considerable effort has been made to keep the test a sufficiently constant measure so that any particular score received on a current test indicates the same level of ability to do college work that the same score did 36 or 20 or 5 or 2 years ago. The SAT measures individual students' capacities not only in comparison with their peers in the particular group but also in comparison with those who took the test in earlier years .... The SAT score decline does not result from changes in the test or in the methods of scoring it." (2) (...)

"What happened around 1945 that might have contributed to declining academic performance in the United States in the years that followed? Consider this brief history: According to figures from the National Center for Health Statistics, hospitals were the setting for only 36.9% of American births in 1936. By 1945 that figure had more than doubled to 78.8%. In 1950, 88% of Americans were born in hospitals. In 1960 the figure was 96.6% and in 1970, 99.4%. (...)

"A reading of the obstetric literature indicates that there had always been philosophic differences among doctors regarding normal childbirth. There were those who felt it was best to allow nature to take its course and there were those who felt that intervention was better. In the years following the 40s and under the stresses of the population explosion, there was a tremendous acceleration of intervention in obstetric care. Instead of adapting to the time- consuming demands of normal childbirth, the obstetric community (with very few exceptions) changed normal childbirth to conform to the comfort of the mothers and the convenience of the doctors, hospital staffs and hospital routines -- all at the expense of the fetus and newborn."

http://www.aimsusa.org/academic.htm

4) "The practice of routinely cutting the perineum during hospital deliveries in the United States, episiotomy, has been shown to be the principal risk factor for severe tearing during delivery, which is the injury that it is supposed to prevent.

Nonetheless American obstetricians continue to overuse this procedure ten times more often than is called for. Episiotomy is also a major risk factor for infection, loss of sexual pleasure, and incontinence. Women who have been subjected to episiotomies take longer to heal from delivery, even compared to women who have equivalent tears." Episiotomy: Ritual Genital Mutilation in Western Obstetrics

http://www.changesurfer.com/Hlth/episiotomy.html

5) Male circumcision has been linked to severe child psychological trauma,

http://www.cirp.org/library/psych/cansever/

adult male violence, addiction and violence against women,

http://www.cirp.org/library/psych/rhinehart1/

and brain damage.

http://www.cirp.org/library/psych/immerman2/

http://www.cirp.org/library/psych/brain_damage/

Other research implies that the neurological impact of circumcision is likely to lead to adult violence, sadomasochism and addiction.

http://www.birthpsychology.com/violence/prescott.html

http://www.cirp.org/library/psych/prescott2/

Circumcision human rights primer:

http://www.math.missouri.edu/~rich/MGM/primer.html

6) "ABSTRACT: Twenty years of clinical and behavioral observation indicate that cesarean births cause considerable trauma to babies. The physical and psychological effects are subtle and powerful, occurring at the unconscious level of the infant psyche. Negative impacts include excessive crying, feeding difficulties, sleeping difficulties, colic, and tactile defensiveness. There also may be long-term psychological effects such as rescue complexes, inferiority complexes, poor self-esteem, and other dysfunctional behaviors and feelings."

http://www.eheart.com/cesarean/emerson.html

"Prima Non Nocere: Iatrogenic Cesareans

"When used inappropriately, medical interventions interfere with the normal process of birth and increase the risk of complications and cesarean deliveries.28, 29 A US national survey of birth practices revealed that 93 percent of women had electronic fetal monitoring, 86 percent had intravenous fluids administered through a blood vessel in their arm (an IV), 55 percent had their amniotic sac membranes artificially ruptured, 53 percent had oxytocin to strengthen contractions, and 63 percent had epidurals for pain relief. More than a third of labors were artificially induced. Almost three quarters of the women were restricted to bed, and three out of four were on their backs while pushing their babies out.30

"(...) Our physicians actively resist the implementation of evidence- based practice and dont believe a cesarean rate in the low twenties is a problem.31

"Personal accounts from women who have had a cesarean, as well as emerging research, suggest that despite a healthy baby and a timely physical recovery, some women experience cesarean birth as a
traumatic event. An unanticipated cesarean is more likely to increase the risk for postpartum depression and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). As in other traumatic human experiences, the symptoms of birth-related PTSD may emerge weeks, months, or years after the event.9,11 Women re-experience the birth and the emotions associated with it in dreams or thought intrusions. They avoid places or people that remind them of the event. Some mothers have difficulty relating to their infants, and some will avoid sexual contact that may result in pregnancy. They will also exhibit symptoms of hyperarousal, such as difficulty sleeping or concentrating, irritability, and an excessive startle response. Untreated post-traumatic stress often leads to clinical depression.12"

http://www.mothering.com/articles/pregnanc...orry-state.html

7) "Flat earth obstetrics is a 21st century version of a medical Dark Ages, in which contemporary medicine has forgotten or ignored the traditional knowledge base and physiological principles necessary for normal labor and safe, spontaneous birth. Flat Earth Obstetrics is the belief that medical and surgical interventions are necessary in every normal childbirth, despite evidence that such a policy is harmful. The term is derived from the insistence by religious and political leaders during the Dark Ages that the earth was flat despite evidence to the contrary.

"The problem with the current form of obstetrical care in the United States is the uncritical acceptance of an unscientific method -- the routine use of interventionist obstetrics for healthy women with normal pregnancies.

"Medicalizing normal childbearing in healthy women makes childbirth unnecessarily and artificially dangerous."

"Obstetrics has been rated as the least scientifically-based specialty in medicine" [Dr. Ian Chalmers 1987].

http://www.sciencebasedbirth.com/

8) The medical community's "guidance" on breastfeeding is a scandal in itself. Even without the now abundant evidence of the immunological, nutritional and psychological benefits of breastfeeding for the baby, and its psychological, hormonal and physiological benefits for post-partum mothers, common sense and human empathy would strongly argue against intervening in this intimate time of mother-child bonding. Yet generations of american children have been denied this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for normal health, growth and emotional well being on the basis of little more than uninformed medical hubris working in concert with a well-financed corporate marketing campaign.

http://www.lalecheleague.org/NB/NBbenefits.html

http://www.babymilkaction.org/

OB's are routinely pulling babies out with forceps and suction machines, pulling and twisting their necks and spines to compensate for the dysfunctional birth position. Babies often come out with huge bruises, dents and bulges on their heads where various devices were attached. Presumably the brain is easily injured in such situations.

The real kicker in all this is how easy it would be to avoid:

The Truth About Birth

http://unassistedbirth.com/uc/truth.html

Leaving Well Alone: A Natural Approach to the Third Stage of Labour

http://www.childbirthsolutions.com/article...stage/index.php


"I always thought there was no other way for me to give birth- that I was a birthing failure; incapable of birthing without an induction jumpstart or a surgical incision. For five childbirths I always "needed" my doctors to create my birth experiences for me, and to save me from my own birthing inefficiency and hopelessness. (I was actually addicted to their "helping" me, and was always effusive in my gratitude for their efforts.) But then with my sixth, I just couldn't do it again- I couldn't go back to another hospital to give birth... I was just too hurt and broken inside.

"I found a lay midwife, and had the beautiful, easy birth that I am intended to have. I finally gave birth as a full, luscious woman-all my own hormones, in my own safe place- with no fingers in me, or straps on my belly. (Or knives in my belly.) I simply pushed my baby out and went to bed."

A letter from Leilah McCracken

http://www.birthlove.com

Early organized medicine saw midwifery was successfully competing with them in terms of safety and affordability while undermining their claims to scientific authority, so they mounted a campaign to force them out of the birthing business in the early 20th century.

http://www.collegeofmidwives.org/safety_is...01/rosenbl1.htm

The next thing our altruistic medical profession did, after eliminating one of the few professional opportunities available to women at the time, was to discard their accumulated wisdom and pathologize and try to control the whole process, rather than let nature take its course. The results have been disasterous. It seems medicine's appreciation of its own ignorance and compulsion to intervene is governed by the same principles which guide the EPA's approach to chemicals in the environment: innocent until proven guilty. But while the economically conflicted medical research establishment is busy catching up with monkeys and dogs in its understanding of birth and child care, children are being hurt, with often life-long consequences.

I urge you to investigate this issue. Once you crack open this pandora's box, I guarantee your life will never be the same. But you will have many allies, and as public awareness is raised, this country will experience a time of self-reflection that will profoundly change it for the better.

Thank you.

Rich Winkel

Now, some profess that it is not that they truly BELIEVE and then ACT on supposed risk that has not presented itself, but instead that it is a business of profit that threatens their livelihood and the 'way that they do things'. Henci Goer published an amazing article called Spin Doctor Research to help reveal to the public how 'scientific studies' and medical articles can hardly be trusted when the tests are flawed to begin with. Go read, it is interesting.

I propose that it is a combination. There is a 'doc' out there who has perfected a combination of the above. I like to coin her Spin Munchausen's Doctor Syndrome. She truly believes these studies, but she herself, cannot interpret the data as what it is: faulty. It goes against everything that she believes in, regardless that solid evidence refutes her beliefs. And so, she truly, TRULY believes that unmedicated, intervention-free, homebirth, VBAC - you name it - births are stupidly risky because birth is a horrible risk waiting to happen and the only way that the human race has survived thus far is because of a miracle!

And on the end, thank you Kathy, for your post on this very similar subject.

Just blowin off some steam. Now I am going to go do something important. lol!

BOLD

The Nashville Birth Network is in the baby-stages of coordinating their own BOLD event 2008. I am excited. I attempted to do this solo last year, but came up against many an obstacle. BOLD stands for Birth on Labor Day and is a collaborative effort to bring awareness to Maternal-Friendly Health Care, bring back woman to woman wisdom (W2W), and support birth choice advocacy programs through financial donations.

So, take 2, many more ppl involved. I am nervous. Did I mention I was excited?

Have you heard of BOLD? If not, please take a moment to see their 12 minute video on the power of W2W wisdom and how it can change the face of maternal care.

If you so desire, Karen Brody, the playwright for Birth (the play central to BOLD), has a blog where she has some GREAT wisdom to impart. It gives you a better look at the heart behind the play.

Along the same vein, let me also make a plug for UBUMAMA - a phrase meaning "motherhood" - a grassroots movement in Africa designed to bring awareness to safe mother care and what it means to be a woman in this area of the world. Their 'marketing' is to sew their birthstories, lifestories, hopes and fears onto the garments that their babies wear! Beautiful!

Award

By accepting this Excellent Blog Award, I have to award it to 10 more people who’s blog’s I find Excellent Award worthy. I can give it to as many people as I want but please award at least 10. Thank you out there for having such great blogs and being such great friends! You deserve this! If chosen, you agree to the same information above. If chosen, also feel free to award people who have already been awarded…

Well, thank you 2Caps, for the award! I am flattered and adequately blushing! The kind thing she said about me?

"Nicole has her very own childbirth education curriculum now! She believes we are fearfully and wonderfully made and that birth is a good thing, and I agree with her! "

Now I need to award some people. Here is my role-call of awardees. Please see the above information to claim your award...

1. Kris - for being the Most Compassionate and Passionate New Doula-In-Training Blogger.
   
2. VBACWarrior - for being the Most Controversial, Raw, and Educational VBAC Blogger.
3. Sheridan - for having the Most Eloquently Scripturally Tied Birth Advocacy Post I have read in a long time.
4. Corin - gets two... for having the Most Eye-Pleasing Layout AND for having the Most Easily Digestible Educational Pieces (meaning that the lay man can read em and the fence rider can accept them).
   
5. umm... Corin got TWO....
   
6. Guinever - for the Best Menu Bar and Side Bar - she gets mad props for loads of easy to find, user-friendly information on her blog. And it doesn't look messy!
   
7. Maria - for some of the Most Beautiful Birth Stories and Pictures on the bloggernet.
8. Kathy - for one of the Most "Huh... Insightful and Thoughtworthy" Posts in The Disappearing Woman
9. Carla - for What She Has Started and Is Doing in the Birth Advocacy World.
10. Andrea - for Being 'The One' (we all hope to be) and Spreading the Word. - her blog often makes me cry, often motivates me, never ceases to astound and ground me.
    

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Hello Birth Warrior! You question everything you're told about birth and there is no doubt that the birth your baby has will be the best possible birth you can give. You're not afraid of doctors or the word "no" and you keep pushing until you get the results you want.

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Vegan (or not), Energy, Yum

This is a recipe I received from my Aunt (kind of)... I modified it and now use it for yummy power ups for myself or my mommies while they are in labor. You can make it vegan or not... the egg white makes it fluffier.

2 pkgs Good Baker Chocolate Cake / Muffin Mix
1 can pumpkin (not pie filling) - standard size (not the large one).
1 egg white (optional)

Mix these three (or two) ingredients together and put in muffin tins. Bake at 350 for 19-25 minutes.

Obviously, if you want vegan, simply omit the egg white.

This recipe is good because:

Pumpkin is considered a "health food". It is high in vitamin A, in the form of beta-carotene. Beta-carotene helps lower the incidence of some cancers. Vitamin A helps aid in good vision, healthy skin, a strong immune system, and bone and teeth development. Pumpkin is also a good source of Vitamin C which helps to fight infection. Vitamin C is a water soluble nutrient which needs to be replenished in the body, daily. Pumpkin is high in dietary fiber, which is often lacking in American diets. Fiber is important for proper digestion and elimination. Pumpkin contains about 40 calories per 1 cup serving.

In addition, the vegan chocolate cake mix is a good source of fiber and protein. Combined with the egg, we have a power food for labor (and pregnancy as well). Enjoy.

Hm Hm Hm, Hm Hm Hm, Hm Hm Humm Hu-Hm...

What carol is that? lol!

Tis' the season, and here are some pictures!

Christmas production - Bri as an angel, Kairi as a cow, Charis and Jocelyn as sheep:



Here are some at the Opryland Hotel:



And here is some random Christmas-i-ness:

Bliss

After 4 'failed attempts' at EBFing with the other chillens, I am in heaven - Xman is 15 months old and going strong.

Say hi to Xman (and my boob).

Sweetness that it is, while he is nursing we often have music playing in the background or I sing. He hums along and taps out the rhythm on my breast OR conducts with one finger raised. So precious!

A (unconventional, probably more accurate than most) Christmas Play

NARRATOR: And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Jospeh also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, to be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, being great with child.

(Children sing quietly in background) “Little donkey, little donkey, on the dusty road … ” etc

MARY: Stop! Stop! (Looks around wildly) I need to find a bush!

JOSEPH: I TOLD you to go before we left the house!

MARY: I DID go before we left the house!

JOSEPH: We’ve only been on the road 5 minutes! You must have a bladder the size of a pea!

MARY: Oh yeah? You try riding an ass with rickets over these bumpy roads with a great big full-term baby tap-dancing on your bladder! Maybe it’s YOU that’s got a BRAIN the size of a pea, mister!

NARRATOR: And when he heard this, he was troubled at her saying, and cast in his mind what manner of salutation this should be.

(Mary struggles to dismount and scurries off.)

JOSEPH: Come on, Mary, we’ll get stuck in rush hour!

MARY: I AM hurrying – ow – drat these thorn bushes! – my center of gravity is off!

Pause.

MARY: (anxiously) ummm, Joseph, do you see any good leaves?

(Mary climbs gingerly on donkey.)

MARY: Oooof!

JOSEPH: Think of the benefit to your pelvic floor, sweetie!

(They plod on.)

MARY: Are we there yet?

JOSEPH: (sighs) We’ve only been –

MARY: I know! I know! We’ve only been on the road 5 minutes.

(Joseph looks around.)

JOSEPH: I wonder which way?

MARY: Check the map.

JOSEPH: Maps haven’t been invented yet.

MARY: Ask someone!

JOSEPH: No, no, it must be – this way, I think. (more hesitantly) This can’t be right.

MARY: (climbs down) well, while you’re trying to find out where we are, I’m going to find a bush ….

JOSEPH: (heavenward) God? God? Hey, is this your idea of being funny? Here I am, stuck in the middle of nowhere, going somewhere I’ve never been, with a wife I’m not married to, whose carrying a baby that’s not mine! I sure hope there’s some cosmic purpose in all this!

MARY: Joseeeeeeeph! My bowels are runny and I think I’m losing my mucous plug!

JOSEPH: Great! Thanks for sharing, honey!

MARY: (waddles back looking concerned). Are we th –

JOSEPH: (testily) NO!!!

MARY: All right, all right, keep your cloak on!

(Some time later)

MARY: (irritably) Can’t you shut those children up? (They have been droning an endless loop of “Little Donkey” in the background throughout.)

JOSEPH: Shh! (to children, who stop singing, look disappointed, shrug and leave).

MARY: Ow! Joseph, PLEEEZE drive more smoothly, do you have to hit EVERY pothole and speedbump!

JOSEPH: I’m trying babe, but this donkey has a mind of its own!

Mary groans or catches her breath with each step and stumble the donkey makes.

JOSEPH: Are you OK, babe?

MARY: It’s these Braxton-Hicks contractions. All this bumping and jiggling makes them happen more.

JOSEPH: Braxton and Hicks haven’t been born yet.

MARY: (wails) You NEVER validate anything I say!

(Mary grips donkey’s mane with both hands and look strained, trying not to groan with every footfall.)

JOSEPH: Are you sure you’re OK, babe?

MARY: No, actually, I’m not OK! I’m 9 months pregnant, I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, my back aches, my legs ache, my pants are wet and - (starts crying) – I just want to go home!

(Joseph stops leading the donkey and comes around to hold out his arms to her for a hug. Mary weeps. She starts to breath differently, holding on tight to Joseph.

MARY: Joe, I don’t think that was a Braxton Hicks. That hurt right down low.

(Jospeh looks around, worried.)

JOSEPH: Look, you can already see the lights of Bethlehem. We’re nearly there! Hang in there babe. Do you want to walk for a bit? Come on babe – (he helps her dismount. Mary walks. She stops, breathes, does a little labor dance, waggles her hands to indicate to Joseph to come hold her. She walks more, repeats...)

MARY: Joe, I think walking makes them come more. I think I’d better get back on.

They proceed with Joseph walking beside the donkey trying to support Mary.

They enter Bethlehem. It’s very busy.

JOSEPH: Excuse me! Excuse me please – ah, my wife here is just about ready to have a baby and we’re looking for the Inn –

MAN: There’s no room at the Inn – that was booked out weeks ago!

JOSEPH: Well, is there anywhere else?

MAN: Do you have a reservation?

JOSEPH (blankly) A reservation?

MARY: (Through gritted teeth) I can’t BELIEVE you didn’t make reservations!

(She clambers off the donkey purposefully and leans forward over the donkey’s back, breathing and swaying her hips. The man stares, Joseph looks more concerned. A matronly woman notices Mary’s posture and stops.)

WOMAN: This little lady hasn’t long to go! You can’t be schlepping about all over town trying to find a room! You poor little treasure (kisses and pats Mary) you’re hardly more than a baby yourself! Is it easing now? Good. Come on then. I know a place that will do. It’s not exactly 5 Star – Bring Your Own Star more like it – but it’s shelter and it’s private and you’ll be left in peace at least. That’s right darling, you’re a strong healthy girl, take my arm, hubby’s right there on the other side, we’ll have you sorted out in no time. How far apart now?

NARRATOR: And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.

WOMAN: Now it might smell a bit mucky, but the straw’s all clean. Joseph, we’ll need your cloak, that’s right, just lay it down here. Now this milking stool will be perfect! Remember, Mary, the Hebrew women are not as the Egyptian women, but they are lively and give birth upon the stools! We’ll get gravity on your side!

That’s your heritage darling, a quick easy birth for you, because you are blessed and the fruit of your womb is blessed, that’s the blessing Yahweh gave to Abraham! That’s right, that’s right, settle yourself on the stool, lovely open pelvis, that’s the way. Now Joseph, if you just kneel in front of her, she can lean forward and have a lovely cuddle, that’s the way. And rest. Just rest. Yes. Yes. There you go.

(Mary breathes intently through a contraction and moans at the peak)

WOMAN: All that walking and donkey riding has gotten you well along, you’ve already done most of the work. And you’ve prepared all these nice clean cloths. Perfect. Sensible girl. We’ll put fresh straw in the feeding trough and it will make a perfect little cradle. You’ll be holding him in your arms before you know it. You’re doing perfectly.

JOSEPH: Lord, sorry about before. You’ve worked everything out. (He prays for his wife).

MARY: (starts her breathing only to grunt at the top) UMF! Uh, I think I just pushed. This is what Elizabeth did when I attended her. Johnny was born just a little after that. Joey, I think I am pushing!

(Mary leans forward with the next one, holding Joseph's hands and grunts into it)

JOSEPH: Whoa! There is something down there! It's got hair too!

NARRATOR: And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them at the inn.

And it came to pass that verily, Mary was at the end of her tether because the holy infant was screaming its head off.

(Mary is lying down, an exhausted arm flopped over her eyes. Joseph is pacing with the roaring baby, jiggling it. A childish chorus croons “Silent Night” in the background.)

JOSEPH: Maybe he needs changing.

MARY: I just changed him.

JOSEPH: Maybe he needs to nurse.

MARY: I JUST NURSED HIM!!!

(Joseph tries to rock and soothe, to no avail).

MARY: Ei Ei Ei! I need some shepherd's purse and milk thistle to calm my nerves! Can’t you take him outside for a moment so I can at least clean myself up?

JOSEPH: It’s freezing out there!

MARY: Just for 5 minutes? Please? Use the sheepskin!

JOSEPH: Blessed art thou among women? CRANKY art thou among women more like it! (He struggles to wrap the sheepskin around the screaming baby and leaves.)

MARY: Lord, that angel I thought I saw - unless it was just too much falafel – said I was highly favored! I sure don’t feel very favored right now! I’m sore both ends, I’m LEAKING both ends – and if that baby is really your baby then why is he screaming blue bloody murder all the time? Shouldn’t he be meek and mild and QUIET???

NARRATOR: And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, not being sure of exactly where to find the new born king, they heard the screaming from afar and drew nigh.

SHEPHERD 1: (a family man, uncertainly) Ummm, is this the kid that’s wrapped in swaddling cloths and sleeps in the feeding trough?

JOSEPH: (sleep-deprived) Huh?

SHEPHERD 2 (a younger man, eyeing the squalling bundle in Joseph’s arms) Man, what’s wrong with him?

JOSEPH: I’d better take him inside before he gets too cold.

SHEPHERD 1: (knowledgeably) No, they don’t like to be cold. Uh – is there a - a manger in there?

JOSEPH: A manger?

(Singing children promptly launch forth into ‘Away In A Manger).

SHEPHERD 3 (a boy) : well, you see these heavenly host dudes were going about a manger, saying it was a sign and all.

JOSEPH: well, yes, there is a manger actually, but we hardly ever use it. He seems to like sleeping next to us where he can smell Mary’s milk. Then she doesn’t have to get up when he wants to feed.

(They go in.)

JOSEPH: Hi honey. There’s some guys here to see the baby.

MARY: (wearily) Do they know how to get him to stop crying?

SHEPHERD 1: Er, well, there is something we do that seems to work well with the lambs. May I?

(He takes the baby and holds him over his shoulder, head down.)

MARY: (startled, starts to get up). What on earth are you doing for heaven’s sake!?

(Baby belches loudly and the crying begins to ease.)

SHEPHERD 1: There you go, it was just a bit of wind. He might have a touch of colic. If the lambs get discomforted like this, we just - (he adjusts the baby so he is “wearing” the baby around his neck) - carry them like this, so their tummy gets a massage. (He bounces gently, with confidence, and the baby settles). Works on my kids, too! I used to walk down the road carrying my second boy like this, to give his mother a break.

Why don’t you two go out for a moment? You could use a break. Even the ewes get stir-crazy if they’re cooped up with their lambs too long. We’ll keep an eye on this little feller.

JOSEPH: Come on babe! (pulls Mary up).

SHEPHERD 1: (to Jesus, as he cradles him in his arms.) So you’re the one who’s going to be the Shepherd of your people Israel! Well, well! (He starts to hum, and begins crooning a lullaby):

“He shall lead His flock like a shepherd. He shall carry the lambs in His arms. And carry them in His bosom. And gently lead those that are with young.”

(Jospeh and Mary see their baby is in good hands and venture outside. They sit down on a hill side and snuggle close because of the cold.)

JOSEPH: Did you ever see such an amazing starry sky? Like you could reach out and touch them.

MARY: Is that a planet? Look at that one! It’s huge! Right above us!

JOSEPH: Maybe it’s the star!

MARY: What star?

JOSEPH: You know. The star you have to bring when you bring your own star.

MARY: God even provided the star. Joseph, do you really think that little baby in there is the son of God?

JOSEPH: (chuckles and cuddles Mary). Look at this way babe. You know how the baby was born, right?

MARY: All too well!

JOSEPH: (Meaningfully) Well, do you have any idea at all how you got pregnant?

(Mary laughs and blushes).

MARY: (musing) A virgin shall bring forth a child. Remember the old prophecy? Joe, don’t you find it strange how these supernatural, miraculous things are all mixed up with such ordinary things? Why would God choose such ordinary people like us, and have his son born in a smelly old shed? I sometimes wonder if I imagined the angel and everything.

JOSEPH: I know for a fact that I didn’t imagine my angel. I was terrified! I didn’t sleep for a week! Did you know those shepherds back there saw a whole sky full of angles? That’s how they knew to come find us!

MARY: (wryly) I thought it was all my yelling.

JOSEPH: Well, that too!

MARY: But you know, Joseph, it hasn’t been easy, it’s not always a smooth ride –

JOSEPH: yeees dear, and you let me know it!

MARY: (playfully thumps Joseph) You have your ornery moments too! But even so, it seems like God has every little detail all worked out, you know, even that long journey helped my labour, and the midwife who just happened to be there, and the shed just happened to have fresh straw –

JOSEPH: And those shepherds sure turned up right when we seriously needed a break!

MARY: That dear little baby! It’s amazing. I can hardly take it all in.

JOSEPH: I guess God likes to use ordinary people and ordinary things so His miracles are all the more special. Just store these things in your heart, Mary. They’ll come back to you like precious jewels in a treasure chest in years to come.

MARY: Yes. I will.

NARRATOR: And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.