Death

Have you had an experience with a person or animal dying? Please describe.

                My whole life has been lived around animals. We have had dogs, cats, birds, chickens, goats, turkeys and even a duck once. I have witnessed the birth of dogs, cats, chickens, goats, and turkeys and have assisted a couple of our does with kidding. I have eight children and have witnessed, as a doula, a birth. I have witnessed the death of dogs, cats, chickens, goats, and turkeys. I have had to be the one to put a goat down when dogs got into the goat pen and tore one of our does up so badly that she could not live.

                When I was young, my family lived next to my grandparents. One day was out with my grandma and I knew that we needed to get home because I knew that something monumental had happened at home. When we arrived, I ran to the back of the house and there was my uncle’s dog with her nose in my favorite Japanese silkie hen, Henrietta. I was shocked and horrified at the manner of her death but even at the young age of 8 or 9, I knew that death was somehow very connected to life and that one cannot be without the other.

                Over the years, I’ve become acquainted with death. My father died almost 23 years ago. I was sad when it happened and I still miss him, but somehow, I knew it was going to happen. My grandpa died just over two years ago. I knew that was going to happen as well and I miss him very much.

                The hardest death I have had to deal with is the death of my oldest son just over two years ago (two years and three months tomorrow as of the writing of this on November 1, 2013). He was only 14 and was killed in an automobile accident. The pain and emotions I feel are as fresh and raw today as they were when I found out he was dead. I miss him more than words can say and quite frankly, I do not wish to miss him less. Interestingly, even as I was lying on a cold, hard table in an emergency room in a hospital, I knew that my son was gone. A very close friend asked me later if there was anything to prepare us for Daniel’s death and as I began to examine the events of the days and months preceding the accident, I could see that there were. Even though it was a shock and unexpected, and even though we all miss him terribly, we were prepared.

What made their experience easier? More difficult?

                When Daniel was killed, I think it was easier, in a way, because he was asleep and was not aware of what was happening. It could be, however, that there were things he would have wanted to tell us had he been able to. When my dad died, he fell into a diabetic coma and never woke up. While it was probably easier that way, it probably would have been nice had he had his family around him. My grandpa died twelve days after the accident that took my son’s life.

                We had been travelling to California in order to see my grandparents. It was the first, and likely only, time we would have a complete five generation family gathering for my children. I believe, as does my grandma, that once Papa knew that we would not be coming, he decided it was time for him to go as he’d been ill for some time and was holding out to see us. With him when he died were my grandma, my aunt, and my cousin. Waiting for him was his oldest great-grandson. He was released with love and greeted with love.

                I have heard of people who have held on to life because those around them refuse to let them go. This has to be hard, especially when living is painful.

Do you see any similarities to the birth experience?

                I see death and birth as flip sides of the same coin. Birth is the act of leaving one sphere of existence and entering another and death is the act of leaving one sphere of existence and entering another. With each, there is an element of entering the unknown, of leaving that with which one is familiar.  Because of this, I believe that the experience of death is very similar to the experience of death. Perhaps the only real difference is the avenue or passageway between the two realms.

Beliefs about Birth

Birth is powerful.

Birth is beautiful.

Birth is empowering.

Birth is private.

Birth is light.

Birth is spiritual.

Birth is primal.

Birth is going to the point of no return and then beyond.

Birth is finding out that you can do more than you ever imagined possible.

Birth is taking part in the plan of happiness.

Birth is becoming partners with God.

Birth is dark.

Birth is taking one step into the darkness and then another, and another, and another.

Birth is the embodiment of love.

Birth is an expression of love.

Birth is the result of love.

Birth is transcendent power.

Birth is individual.

Birth is collective.

My list of sentences is somewhat representative of a contraction. It begins small, grows to a crescendo and then wanes small again and, like a contraction, it is not perfectly symmetrical. In this list, I see some opposites including: light and dark; individual and collective; primal and transcendent power. Birth is that way. You can feel powerful and yet helpless at the same time. You can be part of the act of creation while at the same time you might be ripped apart (mostly figuratively but possibly literally).

My beliefs about birth have evolved both as I was having my babies and after as I have learned more. I really wish that I had learned at a much earlier time the things I now know because my birth experiences would have been even better. None of my birth experiences were bad but none of them were entirely my own, either.

When I had my first child, I was young and I had never heard of midwives. My doctor was one of a group practice in which there were three doctors. I liked my doctor alright and the one other one I met I didn’t like at all. As luck would have it, I got the third doctor whom I had never met when I went to the hospital. That turned out quite alright because he ended up being my favorite. The birth was not my own because I was in the foreign world of the hospital. Until the moment I entered in labor, I can remember having been in it twice: once when my dad was diagnosed with diabetes and once for an ultrasound. My mother gave birth to my younger sisters there but I wasn’t allowed to see her then and when she had gall bladder surgery, I saw her through a window but that was my only contact with her while she was there. So, it was foreign to me. I did not know what to expect. Because it was foreign and it was a hospital and in hospitals doctors reign supreme, I do not feel that I really owned the experience. However, I did manage to push my baby out when I had been told I would have to have a cesarean birth. So, in that respect, it was at least partly mine.

When I remarried, my new husband was very controlling and one of his methods was to keep me out of the hospital. Personally, I was okay with that because I figured women had been giving birth for eons out of the hospital so what difference did it make if I wasn’t in one? The birth of my second daughter was, in spite of the fact it was at home, still not something I could own as mine because the husband was there and he was controlling it just as much as he could.

I can begin claiming a bit more of each subsequent birth.  For the birth of my third daughter, we had a wonderful midwife and I think she instinctively knew that all was not well in the relationship between me and my husband. He was still there but wasn’t the driving force behind what I was doing: I was coming into my own and was doing more what I felt was right. I’d done more reading before this birth and was slightly better prepared.

For the birth of my fist son, I was on hands and knees. I hadn’t really done any more reading but I remembered some of the things I had read previously and hands and knees was one of the things I remember. It was nice. It took the pressure off my back and helped open things up so that my largest baby to that point was able to be born with minimal tearing.

The next birth was even better. We had another midwife and I did a lot of reading in a short time. A lot of reading. I learned about visualizing and because I was able to use what I learned, the birth of my fourth daughter was more my own.

My second son was born as we were driving to the midwife. He was in a hurry and I was actively trying not to push. I wanted a water birth and wasn’t going to get one in the van. It was during this experience that I learned what the ‘ring of fire’ really meant and I learned that babies can and are born without the mother actively pushing.

The next birth, that of my third son, was again at home, but before our midwife arrived. For this birth, I felt like I was in effect being my own midwife as well as pushing a baby out. It was not a fun experience and in spite of the fact that all turned out alright, I would not want to do it again.

The birth of my eighth child, my fourth son was more an experience I could call my own. Finally I was getting the water birth I had been dreaming of since I’d read a book about water birth by Dr. Michel Odent. When I was in the water, I was in my own space. I was free. The husband I knew I needed to leave had no control over the situation. I got out of the water when I felt I needed to walk down the street and I got back in the water when I was too uncomfortable out of it. It wasn’t entirely my own but it was more so than any of the others and it was wonderful.

If I had known then what I know now, I would have been able to own these experiences to a much greater degree than I was at the time.  

3 Traditions of Healing

3 Traditions of Healing*

Which one(s) are you most closely aligned with?

I would have to say that most closely align with the Wise Woman tradition. Since I was a little girl, I have been interested in old, traditional ways of doing things. I have long had an interest in all things ancient and spent much of my childhood wishing that I could be an Indian (in my mind, as a member of the Church of Latter-day Saints of Jesus Christ [aka Mormon or LDS], this meant of Lamanitish descent which could be any of the tribes located in North America as well as the Incas, Aztecs, or Mayas). When my grandfather was told he actually did have some Cherokee blood, I was between ten and fourteen years of age and was so excited! I have since learned to accept myself for who and what I am. I have also learned that life is all about learning and that we can learn from any and every one.

Did you find this articulation of thought forms to be helpful? In what ways?

I did find this articulation of thought forms helpful. This is not the first time I have seen either this chart or one very similar to it. In thinking about the three, Scientific, Heroic and Wise Woman, I would never really have thought of myself as falling into a mostly Wise Woman philosophy. I am fascinated by science but while I find it interesting, I do not believe that science has all of the answers or even the capability of finding all of the answers on its own. The Heroic way seems to lean toward religion—it brings to mind many of the Greek and Roman myths I have read as well as some stories from the Bible. To me, it seems that the Wise Woman way is the most natural and the most likely to use or borrow bits from the Scientific or Heroic if the need exists that such would be of benefit.

What ideas stood out for you?

                The main idea that stood out for me is that we live in a toxic world which I believe has come to pass as we, as a society, have come to embrace the Scientific way. Given my personal beliefs, I think that our origins, our first fathers, had a combination of the Wise Woman and Heroic ways. From there, it is easy to see how we, speaking as a society, could have progressed to where we are today. If I had an exclusive belief in evolution, I think that the progression would have begun with the Wise Woman way and then, as religion became important to people, would have progressed to the Heroic way and from there on to the Scientific way.

How might knowing these different philosophies influence your doula practice?

Knowing these different philosophies might influence my doula practice in what I learn and how I impart to others the knowledge that I have gained. While it seems to me that I most closely align with the Wise Woman philosophy, I can see some value in the others as well. It would be good to at least be familiar with them because some of the women I work with might more easily relate to a different philosophy.

Also, women choose to give birth in different settings. I have given birth in a hospital, in my home, in the clinic of a midwife, and in my van on the way to the clinic. In the van was not by choice but the others were. A woman who chooses to give birth at home may have a completely different philosophy than a woman who chooses to give birth in a hospital. In order to be successful, I need to be aware of these differences and be adaptable without either losing sight of who I am and what I believe or pushing my beliefs on the women with whom I work.

1. The Wise Woman Tradition
The Wise Woman tradition, focusing on integration and nourishment, and insisting on attention to uniqueness and holographic interconnectedness, is another choice: a new way that is also the most ancient healing way known. A way that follows a spiral path, a give-away dance of nourishment, change and self-love. "Trust yourself."

2. The Heroic Tradition
Alternative health care practitioners usually think in the Heroic tradition: the way of the savior, a circular path of rules, punishment, and purification. "Trust me."

3. The Scientific Tradition
AMA-approved, legal, covered-by-insurance health care practitioners are trained to think in the Scientific tradition: walking the knife edge of keen intellect, the straight line of analytical thought, measuring and repeating. Excellent for fixing broken things. "Trust my machine."

(Weed, Susun. "Susun Weed's "Three Traditions and Six Steps of Healing," MatriFocus Web Magazine." Susun Weed's "Three Traditions and Six Steps of Healing," MatriFocus Web Magazine. MatriFocus Web Magazine, 2004. Web. 08 Apr. 2014.)

Daniel's Birthday

It is hard to believe that it has been seventeen years since this boy made his entrance into this world. It is hard to believe everything that has taken place since that day at the Oro Fino dairy ranch. A little more than a year later we were moving to New Mexico. Just more than five years later we were moving to Idaho. Just more than twelve years later we were moving to Massachusetts. Fourteen years, five months and two days later we had to say goodbye. Still, most of those 5,266 days were good ones and I'm glad that we had them.

Looking back, Daniel's labor was much like those of his siblings: very indicative of his personality. Labor was long, but not hard. Once begun, it never stalled, just was consistently slow. I could always count on Daniel getting done what needed to be. 

On January 3, 1997, a Friday, I wrote: “The baby is really moving around right now. It must be time for me to go to bed. Two times I can count on lots of movement are in the morning and when I go to bed.”

Tuesday, January 21, 1997: “Tomorrow I’ve got an appointment with Dr. David.” It is interesting to note that Dr. David Wilson was the doctor who delivered Sydney, Dan’s daughter, when Liz Travis, who helped us with Laura’s birth, thought that Lyn, Sydney’s mother, was not progressing sufficiently to warrant a homebirth. He had divorced, moved to Utah, remarried, and moved back to Scott Valley. He and his wife, Renee, who was an RN almost ready to sit for her midwifery exams, attended homebirths.

Two days later, “Tomorrow I guess I ought to begin my before-the-baby-comes projects. The biggest project is diapers.”

Friday, February 6, 1997: “Just before Salem [Oregon] the baby got tired of sitting still and started stretching rather painfully.”

Friday, February 28, 1997: “Our baby’s quilt is almost done—all I need to do is finish sewing on the binding.”

Monday, March 3, 1997: “Well, this is an odd time [3:05 am] to be writing but the baby appears to be on the way. Therefore, I thought it best to write while I have the time and it’s quiet.

“So far, there isn’t much to tell. . . . I [am] up. My mom is up but she’s at her house still. I had a gush of water a little more than an hour ago and dribblings since then. I’ve had only four really good contractions but lots of little ones.” Renee Wilson was hoping Daniel would be born on the 3^rd because it was her birthday. That was not to be.

Tuesday, March 4, 1997: “This morning at 12:20 a little baby boy was born. . . I broke the mold and had a boy. He hasn’t a name yet—we have trouble with the naming.

“Labor was long—he wasn’t in any hurry to get here I guess but once hard labor began he came more quickly. I don’t know how big his head was but it was bigger than any of my other babies. It took two pushes to deliver his head and then I had to push harder to get his shoulders and the rest of his body out.

“He weighed 7# 12 oz and was 20 ½” long. He has dark hair that will probably get lighter because his eyebrows and lashes are light.

“He is a beautiful baby. He nursed like there was no tomorrow this morning. He fell asleep around 3:30 and has been awake long enough to have his diaper changed and his clothes changed but not to eat. I hope he decides he’s hungry soon.”

Three days later: “. . . baby finally has a name. . . Daniel Brent.”

Labor was long. The Wilson’s came and they left. They came again later and had to bring their 2-year-old because their older children all had previous commitments and couldn’t babysit. That wasn’t a problem. I don’t remember if she was put to bed in the girls’ room or in the little hall by the bathroom. Either way, she, like our girls, slept. My mother was there for much of the labor; I don’t remember if Becky was or not.

At one point in time, I was in the bedroom alone, getting through contractions as best as I could. While they weren’t comfortable, they weren’t painful either but I was alone. I could hear everyone in the livingroom talking and I wondered why. Wasn’t I the one doing the work? Weren’t they here to support me? Why were they out there seemingly oblivious to what I was doing? After my previous three births, I was not used to being alone. I’d had someone with me constantly during each of them so this was something completely new. I did not like it.

In spite of the fact that I have been criticized for voicing this, I do not see what the purpose is of letting a woman labor alone. I believe that part of a good midwife's strength is the fact that she is with the woman. During a time the woman may not be able to voice concerns, she needs to have someone with her. In a hospital perhaps it is not as critical as it seems that most women who labor and birth in a hospital are connected to monitors which may alert staff to potential problems. At home, there are no mechanical monitors; the monitors are the people—midwives, family, friends—and they should be with her.

I don’t know when it was, but Dr. Wilson came in to do an exam and when he was done he told me that I was not ready to push. Oh yeah? I thought. How do you know I’m not ready to push? I was so ready I could barely contain myself. I am not sure if I actually started pushing on the sly then or not; I wouldn’t be surprised if I did.

Much of my labor was on all fours as it was the most comfortable. Either Dr. Wilson or Renee had to remind me to get my front up more because I was sagging and by being more upright, I would be getting extra help from gravity. I do not remember much from the actual birth; I do believe that I was still on all fours. I do remember hearing that the baby was a boy—how exciting that was! I know that I had some tears because I remember being stitched up. It was such a relief to have a baby out that the stitching didn’t seem like a big deal. I had a boy! 

March 17, 1997 at Shakleford Falls.
Alisha, Laura, me with Daniel, Sydney and Joanna.

March 18, 1997. Joanna giving two-week-old baby Daniel lots of lovin'.

April 2, 1997.

April 8, 1997.
Daniel 5 weeks old.

April 15, 1997.
Daniel 6 weeks old.

May 4, 1997.
Daniel two months old.

March 9, 1997.
Daniel five days old.
(Picture is slightly out of sequence.)

May 18, 1997.

August 5, 1997.
Mr. HappyPants at five months, one day.

Seth's Birthday, Revisited

Monday, June 2, 2003, I wrote: “Friday before last I ate some smokies that didn’t agree with me and so Saturday, Sunday and Tuesday I had diarrhea. Since then I have to be very careful what I eat because so many things don’t agree with me.

“Also, we are in the process of adding to our family again so I need to be careful to get what I need.”

August 24, 2003 (Becky’s birthday): “[We] visited with the midwife in Bonners Ferry and the one in Sandpoint. They both seem very experienced and knowledgeable. We both like the one in Sandpoint better although I like the office in Bonners Ferry more. We haven’t decided which one to go to yet—moving has kind of taken precedence over everything.”

I’m not sure why I wrote that we both liked the midwife in Sandpoint better. I liked both of them equally well. We decided to go with Denise in Sandpoint because Dan liked her better and I liked them both. It was kind of silly because Sandpoint is farther away than Bonners Ferry, after all, we were living in Bonners Ferry at the time. I could have walked to my appointments had we gone with Barb.

On Thursday, January 29, 2004, I wrote: “Our new arrival finally made is entrance into the world two days ago. Seth Michael was born at 7:05 pm, Tuesday, January 27, 2004. He was 7# 14oz and 19 inches. He’s probably close to that now.

“He’s the fastest birth we’ve ever had. My visiting teachers came over at 2:00 Tuesday and all I would have said then is that I was having some decent Braxton Hicks but nothing more. By 3:30, I figured that maybe this was the day and I called Denise at 4:00 because I’d lost my mucous plug.
I finished the story on Tuesday, February 3, 2004: “Laura, Joanna, Daniel and Amena came home from Lori’s about 4:30 and I told them we were having a baby. I put the plastic shower curtain on the bed and made it like normal with blankets because even then I didn’t feel like we’d be having the baby that day—that I might be able to get some rest that night.

“. . . @ 5. . . I didn’t want to go to our temple recommend interviews at church at 6:30 because it would be just my luck that my water would break while we were there.

“I don’t know when they did break, but it was sometime between 5 and 6:30. . . .the blankets and extra sheets [hadn’t been taken] off the bed until just before and I still had all my clothes on—I was procrastinating because I just didn’t feel like moving. Once I gushed all over the bed, [I changed and] just knelt on the bed because sitting wasn’t much fun. That must have been 6:30ish and contractions were getting really hard. I had another gush in here sometime.

“At 6:40, . . . Denise [was called and told] if she hadn’t left, she needed to right NOW. I was making plenty of noise by then. Joanna brought me juice between contractions until I scared the children all away. . . [a chair was brought in for me to lean on] and from 6:40+ I stayed there.

“I wanted to push but didn’t feel like I should yet. [After looking in a mirror] I didn’t think I looked like I was ready to push either. . .[but] tried pushing without pushing. I’d felt the crowning and then . . . ‘it’s a head covered with black hair!’ Then he said that the cord was around the baby’s neck.

“In such a state, not being able to think, I tried to decide if I should try to get the baby out as quickly as possible or try to wait. Well, nature took its course and during the next contraction, I did the push without pushing thing again and out popped baby.

“. . .when the baby was out, [the cord was] undone. I leaned back on the pillows then and . . . baby—another boy!—[was put] on my stomach. He was bluish except his red face and we got him covered up with a towel. Dan started rubbing him and stuck his finger in his mouth before he made a noise and then it was just one cry.

“I rubbed while [Denise was called] and baby started to pink up and make more noise as we rubbed. By the time Denise and Jolene arrived, all the children were out again and baby was looking pretty good except his hands were still pale. His feet may have been also but I didn’t really notice. He’d also started rooting around a bit by then.

“Dan wanted to name him Seth. Joanna is the only person who objected—I think she just didn’t like it. No middle name was forthcoming though. Then while I was in the bathroom getting cleaned up (the placenta having been delivered and my having been checked for rips and tears (of which I do not recall there were any)) Dan said that he was holding Seth and the name Michael popped into his head.

"Seth is in the bedroom now beginning to make noise and I am feeling like he could stand to be hungry.”

Sherri had quite a library in New Mexico that I availed myself of while pregnant with Cedric. I knew a lot more for his birth than I had for any of my previous births. I had done even more reading during this pregnancy. It was something to feel the crowning and finally understand why it is called ‘the ring of fire.’ Once I understood the importance of this, I knew better what to expect. This was good knowledge to have.

I think it is safe to say that I felt more prepared for Seth’s actual birth than I had for the rest. I think that, in general, it was a good birth although looking back at it, it was somewhat scary as well even though I didn’t have enough presence of mind to think so until much later. The cord wrapped around his neck could have been life-threatening; we were blessed that Seth was born with no lasting physical or mental issues.

As you will see in one of the pictures, Cedric used to like to climb into the cradle with Seth. I think that Cedric missed being the baby to a degree and that he loved his little brother. I’m not sure if being the seventh child is a curse or a blessing (it most likely depends on the circumstances), but for certain Seth was a much loved baby brother.

One funny story I almost forgot. I don’t know if I knew how many Mormon clients Denise had had but I do know that Jolene had had no experience. Midwives usually come for at least one home visit. This serves to show them where you live so they know where to go and the general layout of your house. Also, they are able to get a feel for family life. Denise and Jolene came for their home visit in December. We had our Christmas tree up and when they walked in, Jolene said, “Oh, I didn’t know you celebrated Christmas!”

February 28, 2004.
Seth 3 weeks.

February 20, 2004.
Amena holding her newest baby brother.

February 24, 2004.
Seth four weeks.

March 1, 2004.
Daniel holding Seth.

March 3, 2004.
Seth five weeks.

This was sometime in the spring.
The whole gang (well, almost): Daniel, Joanna, Cedric, Seth, Laura and Amena.

Seth late March, 2004.

Summer 2004.
Cedric and Seth.
This is the one I mentioned above.

Amena's Birthday, Revisited

I was so not excited to be pregnant again. In many ways, I had hoped that Daniel might be the last one. I generally didn’t mind being pregnant but things were not good at home and there were no midwives near us. We moved from Bloomfield to Escrito near the beginning of the pregnancy which I hoped would be a good move. We did find and visit a midwife in Albuquerque but she wasn’t comfortable with our distance from her AND she was from Vermont or New Hampshire or Maine and would be gone for a week or two visiting family right when we were due. It didn’t help that I didn’t really try to find anyone until well after five months into the pregnancy; having had four babies already, I foolishly believed that I knew enough to know if something felt wrong. Nothing did go wrong during the pregnancy but had I it to live over, I would have done things differently.

On October 25, 1999, I wrote: “Now we are about 8 ½ weeks from baby’s due date. I feel very fat. I’d like for this baby to be here so that I can get back to normal but I’m really not sure about the added stress of having a new baby to care for. Life has been so stressful lately I wonder if it will ever regain any semblance of normalcy.”

December 5, 1999, seventeen days before she was due: “I found a midwife in Farmington. She just moved from Alaska a couple months ago. At first I thought she was really strange but the longer I was there, the more she sounded okay. . . She favors water births and has a Jacuzzi. Getting to use a Jacuzzi might be worth going to town to have this baby.”

On Christmas morning at 2:31, I wrote: “About 12:15 this morning my water broke and contractions started about half an hour later. They’re the real thing but very inconsistent and currently far apart. I think if I were to get up and move around things might kick in. I don’t want to yet though because for some reason I want to have the baby in town and we can’t get to town until we can get gas. That won’t happen until the 44 Store opens—if it does, being Christmas.

“I probably am about ready to get up and get something done. If we do go to town, I need to finish getting things ready to go. Since I finally have everything washed, I was going to do that this afternoon. That’s what I get for putting it off.”

Two days later: “On Christmas morning, after the initial few contractions, nothing happened other than a few Braxton Hicks during the morning. Sherri called and we decided to go into town around 1.”

Once at Sherri’s, “I took some castor oil with orange juice and baking soda to get contractions going again and was sent to bed to get some rest.

“Over the next couple of hours, contractions started, diarrhea started, snow started, and Sherri came and gave me some herbs to help contractions mean business. Between 5 and 9:30, I got up and walked around when I felt like it and sat on the futon trying to visualize my way through contractions (just a note—visualization makes an incredible difference).

“Around 10, I think, Sherri had me go to the bed for an examination which revealed that I was at 9 cm and just about ready to push. With the next contraction—which was the worst because I was closer to laying on my back than I had been—I decided I wanted more pillows but not to move.”

“Amena Bronwen was born at 11:08 pm on Christmas Day weighing 6 pounds, 13 ounces and measuring 20 inches long. As usual, having a baby is such an indescribable thing. It’s hard work—sometimes I just wanted to stop and give up—but so worth it once the baby is born.”

I did not write much in my journal about being pregnant. Had I to do this all over again, I would have been actively looking for someone to see for prenatal care. Even a doctor until I could find a midwife maybe. Had I been looking, I might have found Sherri sooner than I did. She attended births even before she had her office or even a house for her family to live in so that wouldn’t have been a huge problem. In the few weeks that we knew her, I learned more about birth I think than I had with all four previous pregnancies.

During our first meeting, she asked me what I would like to do. I answered that I would like to continue care with her as if we’d been going to her the whole time. That is pretty much how it happened and it was good. I really liked Sherri and I think that if it weren’t for the influence of certain others, we might still be friends today.

Amena’s name came from one of the books of baby names that Sherri had. The deal with naming babies was that Dan would name the boys and I would name the girls. I did indeed choose Laura’s first name, but not her second. I did indeed choose Joanna’s first name, but not her second. This time, I was going to choose both names and they were going to be names I liked. Amena is a Celtic name meaning ‘heather on the hills’ and Bronwen (which I wish I’d have spelled Bronwyn) is Welsh for ‘fair and white’. Very fitting.

This was taken sometime in January.

January 1, 2000.
Amena was one week old and still had her 'bonnet.'
This picture was taken by Rhonda, one of the nurses in GPU.

Isn't she cute? This was taken sometime in the fall of 2000.

Cedric's Birthday, revisited

Life was very stressful between the time Amena was born and the time Cedric was born. After a fairly brief journal entry on March 17, 2001, in which I mention a visit from Daniel Vaniman, I did not write again until August 2 and then only three lines; after that not for another month on September 2. That was a bad month. Then we experienced 9/11. Life across the country mirrored my personal life: STRESS.

Thus, it isn’t until September 12, that I mention anything about a new baby on the way. “The baby seems to be doing fine.”

Marie was going to get married. Finally they set a date and were married Wednesday, October 3. I’d wanted to go but things didn’t work out. We were planning on moving to Idaho though, and since we’d only be about twelve to fourteen hours from Portland, I thought surely we’d be able to visit, “Certainly before this baby comes.”

Sydney left New Mexico to live with her aunt and we dropped Alisha off at the airport in Albuquerque on our way to California for Richard’s funeral as he passed away on November 2. Life was crazy.

On Sunday, December 30, 2001, I wrote: “Last Saturday we had a very interesting experience. I started having contractions about 5am but had no breaking of the water so didn’t worry about it. At 6, I took my usual morning dose of Uterine Toner and contractions kept happening but nothing else. It seemed to me around 9 they began to slow down so close to 10 I took my usual second dose of Uterine Toner.

“Family and McKelvey’s are here so I’ll be back later.”

Finishing the story on January 6, 2002, I wrote: “. . .back to the 22^nd of December. After that second dose of Uterine Toner, contractions were regular and hard. I called Sherri and Sandy who agreed to watch Laura, Joanna, Daniel and Amena. I kept doing things—making beds, getting a suitcase ready, fixing lunch, etc.—until I knew we needed to go NOW. I had a feeling we’d probably waited too long and thought briefly about calling Sherri back to say I wasn’t going anywhere but I really wanted that water birth.

“[We] called Sandy to tell her we might take some of the others but then contractions were really strong ad I said, ‘we’ve got to go NOW. Can she come pick them up?’ She said okay, we went out and Brother McDaniel and his wife arrived with some hay for Freckles.

“We left and I [said] to drive fast but not on the dirt road. [We went] faster on that than I’d’ve liked but plenty fast on the highway.

“Contractions were really hard and very serious. [We] pulled over once to see if I wanted to get in the back which I didn’t so [we] continued. Then I made a loud noise, groan, and [said] if I did it again to pull over. I could feel something bulging between my legs—it was the water bag. [We] pulled over [and I got] in the middle seat and then drove on.

“I’d felt the burning sensation that is associated with the head crowning just before moving back and knew that we’d never make it to town. When we stopped next we were about 8 miles beyond DZ (north) and that’s where we were going to have a baby. I felt something come out. I asked. . . ‘what was that?’ [It was the head.] Next push and out came baby. [I managed to get him under my jumper] and we covered him with two blankets after checking to be sure he was indeed a ‘him.’

“. . .Sherri was waiting for us when we got to her office and got us looked at and in bed.

“Baby’s name is Cedric Jacob.

“Cedric and I are both doing well. He is currently asleep on the couch. He was 7# 4 oz when born (same weight as Laura) and 19 3/4” long. He has dark brown hair and is, of course, terribly cute.

What an experience that was! I need to rest just thinking about it.

Life was incredibly difficult during the time I was pregnant with Cedric. Dan had decided the previous February that he didn’t want to be married to me any longer. He gave me permission to take some of the children, I don’t remember which ones, and leave. He would keep the others. Well, this didn’t set well with me. I’d have been perfectly happy to go but for one thing, if I was, I was going to have all the children with me and I really thought that our marriage was salvageable. Somehow we got through that.

In August, when I was five months pregnant, “Dan took Joanna, Daniel and Amena to pick Laura up from the George’s. To make a long story short, he’d decided he’d had enough and was planning on not coming back. He didn’t until late the next day and that was the worst hell I have ever lived through—much worse than what happened in February.”

It was also around this time that Alicia Chapman told me that someone had told her that I was planning on doing something that could potential hurt her family. She’d heard it from a ‘reliable’ source but refused to tell me who it was. Well, for one thing, I hadn’t said exactly what she had heard I did. For another thing, the only person I had mentioned anything remotely like what she’d heard was to Dan. Who was her source? Dan. I was so angry. I’d heard that extreme emotions have an effect on an unborn child and now I knew it to be true. My baby was affected by my anger and did not move for a full 24 hours.

On a happier note, I had used visualizing during Amena’s birth. I used it during Cedric’s as well, but it didn’t work. I’d been visualizing getting to Sherri’s office and giving birth in the water. Obviously, that didn’t work out. Interestingly, and this is something I just only realized, had we stayed home, the chances of having a water birth would have been greater as we had a garden tub in the master bath. It certainly would have been large enough for laboring in, perhaps giving birth as well.

Cedric was a happy baby and when he was just a few months old, we finally were able to leave New Mexico and move to Idaho.

This picture was taken in late March of 2003 at about the place where Cedric was born. He was born in this van.

This was taken in January of 2002.
For some reason (probably because it was taken before we moved and developed after) it never got dated more specifically.

This was taken in early March of 2002 while we were still in Escrito.

This was taken in March or April of 2002 at Grandma Davis' house in Fort Jones.

 This was taken in the spring of 2002 after our arrival in Idaho.



This is in the summer of 2002 with Blackie.

He loved to snuggle up with Cedric.

Also taken in the summer of 2002.

And this is us in the spring of 2002 at Mt. Hall.