The Baby Shower- Bonding for the Non- Beer and Jerky Gender

My friend Cathy has known me for over 30 years, and likes me anyway. She's been there for me (and I hope I've been there for her) through thick and thin all these many years as I've pinballed my way from one marriage to another, one crisis to another, from joy to heartbreak and back again. All that time she and her husband Mark have been steady, calm, loving rocks protecting me from the worst of myself.

Cathy's daughter Christi is pregnant. Yesterday was the baby shower.

We've missed many milestones in the lives of their kids due to logistics and health and work- graduations, marriages, but THIS time I could make it and Ward and Alec said "Go- stay overnight- have fun- we'll be (gulp) fine".

The shower was held at Cathy's friend Deborah's house, a gigantic sprawling glamorous yet comfortable and oddly enough for its size not ostentatious 2 story home set in the middle of North Texas prairie.

Attending were Christi, Cathy, myself, Deborah, the sister/mother/grandmothers-in-law, and several other friends.

The table in the breakfast nook (which is bigger than my living room)was set with gorgeous flowers, a crystal punch bowl, Waldorf salad, cheese and crackers, a beautiful cake and the new (to me anyway) Hershey's Bliss white chocolate with melty middles candies (how did so many fall into my pocket? I can't imagine...)

After eating, we assembled in the blue and white living room for present opening, the scent of an expensive candle wafting here and there with subtle elegance.

We oohed and ahhed at all the tiny clothing, accessories, baby books and whatnot, passing them all around to admire- just the feel of the tiny items dredging up sweet visceral memories for all of us "old women".

There were no stupid...err...silly games, which I was ever so grateful for because they would've ruined what happened next.

Once the presents were opened and Christi thanked all of us, the mood in the room shifted, changed, slowed down and muted.

We were no longer in Deborah's living room, we were transported back through the generations to times when the older women gathered among themselves and passed on knowledge verbally to the younger women who were becoming the next step in the process of being human- from baby, to girl, to teen, to wife, to mother.

One by one yet without order or intent, the stories started flowing. Between all of us there had been well over 2 dozen births- hospital births, midwife births, multiple births, c-section births- each one special and terrifying in its own way.

And those stories hung in the air, wove together in the candle-scented atmosphere like so much smoke by firelight and wrapped around Christi with the assurance that even though this IS going to be hard and no one CAN tell you what to expect exactly because even the woman who'd had six babies admitted each birth was very very different, that the outcome will be the same-

"Where's my baby? Give me my baby- is my baby OK?"

And you are handed that tiny miracle who looks pruny, and pissed off, and amphibian-like, and perfect.

The rest of our lives as mothers is spent wondering and worrying "Is my baby OK?"

No matter how old they are, or how far away they live, or how migraine-inducing they were as toddlers or how hateful they were as teenagers, a mother never stops loving or fretting.

A wedding, for all it's planning and pomp and importance is just the beginning of a marriage, and despite what the florists and tuxedo rental and jewelry stores tell us the wedding ceremony is the EASY part- the really trivial part. The hard but oh so satisfying work starts after the honeymoon. Because you're not responsible for just you anymore- you have the security of a partner along with the extra burden that loving someone more than yourself places on you.

A birth is the beginning of three whole new persons- the one being born and the two being thrust into parenthood. And it happens with every new child- you may say "I know how to do this- I've already had a child" but you've never been the parent of TWO children, or THREE, or more. Each one is a whole different playing field, a whole new way to define and stretch yourself.

This gathering together for a baby shower is so much more than a gift giving punch drinking experience- it's a way of reassuring the mother-to-be that yes- this is scary and unknown, but that other women have done it- WE have done it- and you come out the other side with a family, and a history, and a future, and strength you never knew you possessed.

There is magic in being a woman, and power in being a mother, and it's all good.

Especially when there are Hershey's Bliss white chocolate filled with melty middles candies involved.

"Houston Doctor Exposes Gaping Hole Where Soul Should Be- Film at Eleven"

Here. I'll let you read it for yourself-

http://www.khou.com/home/Kingswood-mother-has-all-four-limbs-amputated-after-home-birth-91858109.html

Awful. Just awful. My heart completely breaks for that poor woman and her family, who will never ever fully recover from this.

About the only thing that could possibly make the whole thing even more heinous than it already is would be the arrogant, ignorant stupidity of Dr. Joseph Salinas- the pompous bastard who issued a blanket condemnation of home births in general and stopped just shy of saying that any woman who chooses home birth pretty much deserves to lose all her limbs.

Our son was born at home, with a midwife, without incident. I can pretty much guarantee to my readers that the mother in the story above keeps a cleaner house than I do. I can also guaranDAMNtee that any and every hospital in this town or any other is chock full of all sorts of nasty bacteria.

My first two children were born in a hospital- home birth being against the law in Wisconsin- but my Obstetrician insisted he was all for home birth- that the hospital was the worst possible place to be giving birth because they're all FULL OF GERMS.

Because here's the thing. Giving birth is NOT a disease process. It's actually something that (brace yourself) women were built to do. From our perky little breasts to our comely shapely hips, women were NOT designed exclusively to aspire to be the cover of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issues- we were designed to grow and deliver more humans.

And most of the time, most of the women can do that without the intervention of Dr. Joseph Salinas- something I'm sure will put a gigantic dent in his...ego.

The FACT is that this one woman contracted a nasty strep somewhere- possibly not even birth-related. The FACT is that many thousands of people contract, suffer, recover (some) and die (alot) the same type of germs IN THE HOSPITAL every year, something Dr. Salinas conveniently forgot to mention in his giddiness to make damn sure he frightened clients...er...women into flocking under his manly, protective wings to have their babies.

I don't know why Katy didn't go right to the doctor when she started hurting- and it really doesn't matter with this type of germ, it was gonna 'get' her regardless of the time frame, even in-hospital contracted Strep A isn't a "take this pill and that'll do ya", scenario- but her husband's blog shows some glimpses as to the Maybe Why's.

They are both self employed, and lacked adequate (if any) health insurance- possibly one reason to opt for home birth as well, although I'm of the school that believes that home is the best place to take care of this natural event. The FACT is that a home birth including excellent pre-natal and post-natal care costs less than 10% of a hospital birth, and you get to stay in your own bed.

That Houston's KHOU took a heartbreaking story and twisted it for Dr. Salinas' agenda is news reporting at its very shoddiest- and thank goodness the viewers are agreeing in overwhelming numbers.

It'd be lovely to see the news station step up and do some REAL reporting and community good and cover
-the ways this family can be helped through this horror via donations
-the actual facts regarding safety of home birth vs. hospital birth, both here in the US and elsewhere in the world (something that will not make our system look very good)
-education on what to look for re: signs of Strep A, since it's freakin' EVERYWHERE and you can get it from any cut or puncture
-how sorry it is that a mother even had to consider the expense of going in for 'traditional' medical care till she was really in pain, and really in jeopardy.

And that's the thing.

This is so NOT a home birth vs. hospital birth thing, this is a health care availability in America thing, and that point was cleverly not even brought up.

I'm not holding my breath for any of the above- the medical corporations and insurance companies and Defenders of the System are all too powerful- so much better to blame the experienced midwife, blame the loving mother, blame the victim.

Katy's husband started a blog, and there are links to help the family. I'd consider it a personal favor if ya'll could donate what you can.

Because what our family is going through right now is easy compared to what they will face forever.

http://katyupdate.wordpress.com/