Birthing - Then and Now

Yesterday was a great day for the birth of our new granddaughter, our fifth grandchild. We spent the day at the "Alice Peck Day Birthing Center", a wonderfully mom & baby centered, friendly place to be. Nana was thrilled to support and coach Amanda through the birthing process; Grandpa did an outstanding job of holding down a chair in the waiting room, alternating with wearing a path into the hallway’s vinyl floor. ‘Sweet Pumpkin’ (Nana’s interim name until Amanda and Kamal make their choice) was born at 2:40 p.m., 7 lbs 8.5 oz, and 19” long.

I couldn’t help but reflect on the differences in the support that Amanda and Kamal were getting from the experience we had with our first birth experience when Elizabeth was born. The end result was the same; a beautiful and healthy baby, new parents overwhelmed by the experience, their new responsibility, and their joy. The process, however, was very different.

We spent 12 weeks in Lamaze classes, practiced our breathing techniques (I had to practice too so I could coach Mary Lou in the labor room), practiced our relaxation techniques (they still work!) ; we were ‘prepared’ when we went to the hospital. It turned out that we were the only ones who were. In 1972, ‘natural childbirth’ was “new”, and we were viewed as a couple of young hippy kids who didn’t understand that the birthing process was really about the convenience of the doctors and nurses. They got that part right; we didn’t!

Anyway, I have some memories:

• As Mary Lou’s membrane started to leak, after 24 hours the hospital response was to get the process going with pitosin (sp) pills. They were placed between lip and gum to dissolve and be absorbed through the gums. (We had a choice of using an IV but didn’t have sense enough to choose it and didn’t have anyone to explain the potential problems w. pills)


• The nurse tried to usher me out of the labor room when the doctor arrived to check ML. She was shocked and very uncomfortable when the Dr. said I could stay.


• As labor progressed, Mary Lou was trying to do her breathing with her mouth coated with half-dissolved, pasty pitosin. I was trying my best to ‘coach’, but there was no support. The Hospital staff didn’t understand Lamaze and, for sure, didn’t understand why anyone would want to go through a natural childbirth instead of using the conveniences of modern medicine!


• The anesthetist came in ready to do her thing. She seemed hurt, even offended, that we didn’t want her services.


• As transition approached, the nurse’s shift change was coming up and the Dr. had been there most of the night. I overheard someone (Dr. I think) say, “Let’s move this along.” More pit pills were added to goop up Mary Lou’s mouth.


• As birth approached, Mary Lou was moved to an operating theatre they called a delivery room. I sat by Mary Lou’s shoulder and watched in a little mirror about the size of a kid’s bike mirror. Dr. and nurses made sure I didn’t see the episiotomy (which was SOP) or afterbirth, anything but the birth itself.


• Elizabeth was placed on Mary Lou’s stomach for 30 seconds or so and then taken by the nurses to be cleaned up, weighed, measured, and whisked off to the nursery ICU.


• We had asked to have “rooming in”. That was another new concept so, after 24 hours in ICU because of the membrane leak, they put a bassinette at the end of Mary Lou’s bed, put Elizabeth in it, and said, “Call us if you need us.”

The most amazing thing about all of this is that we (especially Mary Lou) chose to go through this process two more times! Actually, we didn’t know any better; we thought it was ‘beautiful’, with a few little hitches.

Corey’s birth was much better. The nurses, at least, had a better understanding of natural childbirth and were supportive. We also knew more and could advocate for ourselves, somewhat. The Doctor tolerated it, but didn’t quite ‘get it’.

• After Corey was born, still in the ‘delivery room’, and we were trying to process all that had happened, the Dr. was stitching up the episiotomy (still SOP) and explaining to me that he was using a ‘Philadelphia’ stitch instead of a ‘Chicago’ stitch – I don’t remember the names. It was clear that for him, the important part of the birthing process was his expertise, something for which we should be grateful. For us…not so much!

By the time Amanda was born in 1979, the hospital and staff had been ‘educated’. Fairfax Hospital (about the size of DHMC) actually had one birthing room (which was being used when we got there); but Dr. Hair, bless her heart, really did understand and support what we were trying to do. Amanda was born in the labor room with the lights low and only the Dr., a nurse and us in the room. We kept her and bonded with her for an hour or so before she was taken for her ‘real’ checkup and then returned tous. It really was progress:)


In contrast to our experience, Amanda had nurse mid-wives to coach and support her (and Kamal) though the whole process. The whole focus of the birthing center is to let the birth process happen in its own unique way; fast or slow, hard or less hard, whatever is best for the baby and mother, and to make sure their experience is as natural and glorious as it can be. The baby stays with the parents who continue to get as much support as they need from the nurse mid-wives, lactation specialist, pediatrician, or whomever. We all have become fans of the APD Birthing Center and especially of nurse mid-wives, a really special group of people.

Kitty's Plan

My Aunt Kitty loved flowers. She thought of them as part of her legacy. She planned the flower gardens at this house so that something would bloom from before the snow was gone in the Spring until after the first snow fell in the Fall.

Since we moved here six years ago, we have gradually changed a few things and re-arranged others in the flower beds. Mary Lou has discovered a real talent and love for gardening. She says that she never gardened before because it was too hot in Virginia. Maybe, but some days I think it's all part of Kitty's Plan.

The flowers below are August flowers...this year and next and the one after that.

Doing the Right Thing: Fawn in the Flowers

We had a visitor in our front yard a couple of days ago. I was weed-whacking and nearly took the nose off a deer fawn who was trying his best to survive by staying still.





In case you don't recognize them, the "bushes" the fawn is between are two clumps of daffodils. He was a little guy! Anyway the hardest thing to do was to leave the fawn alone -- if we touched it, it's mother would abandon him; if we left him over night and the doe didn't return, he would die from cold temps and dehydration. He stayed in his hiding spot all day which is a long time for a baby that is normally fed every three hours or so. Anyway, as darkness fell, we hoped that momma deer would come back to get the fawn.


I woke up early the next morning and went out to see...and found matted grass where the fawn had been. Fish & Game will always tell you to "let nature take it's course" when you find a small animal. In the long run, it is the right thing to do; but it is really hard sometimes.

Holiday Letter 2008

Dear Family and Friends,

When Mary Lou suggested that I write a holiday letter, I was reluctant; I really didn’t think we had much to tell. Our ‘children’ are adults with families of their own, and our life seems pretty quiet and routine. And letters seem to have been replaced by blogs – sure saves paper if nothing else. Liz and Corey share their family celebrations and travails on theirs; Amanda hasn’t started a blog yet, but I’m sure she will at some point. Mine seems to be more about politics and the virtues of country living. This is a bit of an experiment; I’m already liking the idea that I don’t have to fit it on one page. :) Welcome to our first holiday-letter blog.

We have discovered that there is great virtue in ‘quiet and routine’; neither of us would return to the craziness and stress of suburbia under any circumstance we can imagine. We still keep a calendar, but it is less about tight schedules and more about the loss of a few gigs of personal memory. We have found great satisfaction in working for our community in various ways - maybe because we simply like to help others; maybe because in a small, rural community it is really possible to make a difference. Mary Lou has been attending an exercise class – Bone Builders – to prevent osteoporosis. It meets three times a week and has 10 to 25 participants on a regular basis. She leads the Saturday session and substitutes for the other leaders as needed. We are town webmasters of a sort: Mary Lou created the Town website www.plainfieldnh.org, and I developed the Historical Society site www.phsnh.org. There is much to be done with both so I’m taking a JavaScript class this winter – keeping the brain active is a good thing too. In the summer, we spend a lot of time in a large vegetable garden. We grow way more than we can use so we give the food away. Most of it goes to people who are no longer able to manage a garden – much gets canned or frozen for their winter use. In addition, I am on the Planning Board which has its own challenges in a Town which is evolving from a farming community to a bedroom community serving Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, Lebanon and Hanover. I’m a monitor for a local conservation easement. I help set up our poling place, and Mary Lou helps count the paper ballots for each election. We do feel like we belong here.

Our life is not all about the community. Obviously, we enjoy the fresh vegetables from our garden also. Sometimes we trade fresh blueberries or raspberries for a share of the jelly that our neighbor makes from them, and we press our apples to make fresh cider. I’m trying to learn the fine art of making hard cider (a New England tradition). At least I’ve finally found a use for all of Dad’s wine making equipment that we brought with us from Virginia. I ski and snow-shoe in the winter, and I am trying to be more enthusiastic about cross-country skiing. Cousin Bob and I hike and do a little trail maintenance for the Green Mountain Club (Vermont) in the summer. I hunt with another friend in the fall. It also takes a fair amount of time to maintain our place, but being on a tractor never seems like a waste of time to me. We’ve had nearly two feet of snow in the last three days; even with six hours or more of snow-blowing and shoveling, I think it’s beautiful. Of course, it’s the first snow of the winter; by the end of March, my enthusiasm may have dulled a bit. We do love the seasons, and we give thanks each day for being here.

In addition to our local endeavors, our favorite activity is visiting with our children and grandchildren. This year we made two trips to Texas and two trips to North Carolina. We also drove to Tennessee to help celebrate Aunt Ella’s 90th birthday (my father’s youngest sister). Mary Lou flew to Wisconsin to visit with Amanda and Kamal, and they have made three trips to New Hampshire.

Last February, Corey came to visit with Jackson and Miley. Jackson and I had a great time sledding, building a snow fort, and throwing snow balls. Miley was a little young for outdoor fun – she looked like an Ewok in the snow suit we got her. But we had a great time, and they plan to come back again this February. Jackson has decided he wants to be a ‘shredder’ so we’ll go snow-boarding when he is ready.

Last summer, we had everyone here for the 4th of July. Plainfield has an old-fashioned, small-town parade & barbeque. We also hosted the Read reunion (my mother’s family). Liz, Harlan, Christopher and Sammy stayed a few days so I took them in our RV to the White Mountains where we hiked & toured for a couple of days. We had such a great time (see the picture on their blog) that they plan to make it an annual trip.

Kamal has learned to be a ‘shredder’ (snow-boarder). He and I went skiing / boarding last week; unfortunately, Amanda was under the weather and couldn’t go with us. They spent a few days with us on each side of their trip to Mecca. They went on Hajj as is required of all Muslims. It was a very meaningful trip for them; and, with 2.5 million people from all over the world participating, we are glad that it went well and that they have returned home safely. Anyway, Kamal loves to snow board, and I am thrilled to have a son-in-law who likes snow. Actually, Harlan and Craig are thrilled also because they think I’ll stop trying to talk them into winter visits. :)

We hope you and your families have a great holiday season and a fantastic 2009!

With love to all,

Mike and Mary Lou

Hunting in New Hampshire

When I got up at 5:00am, the thermometer said 18 degrees; it was dark; winds were supposed to pick up to 15mph for wind-chills of about 2 degrees. As I put on an extra layer of long-johns, it occured to me that there was no rational explanation for what I was about to do. I met Steve at his house at 6:00am, and we headed into the woods as dawn cracked the black sky. We had been hunting a small section of a large conserved area, and we had consistently seen deer or sign of deer, including a nice scrape (a small area where a buck had pawed the ground and left his scent to mark his territory). As we walked up the snow-mobile trail, the ground crunched under our feet and ice cracked where puddles had been, everything now covered with frost and a light dusting of snow. No point in trying to be quiet as we crunched throught the leaves and walked toward our stands. I found a downed tree with several large trunks/limbs, and I hunkerd down in the middle of them, sitting on one with a 30-06 across my lap. I had hemlocks to my right, oaks to my left, and the edge of a gully in front of me. It was quiet at first, a beautiful morning to be in the woods. A grouse rustled the leaves as it worked its way behind me; squirrels completed the ritual of finding acorns and burying them in the leaves; many would never be found again and would become new oaks as the years went by - mother nature's little helpers. After an hour or so, the wind picked up and gusted occasionally. I began to think about how long I would wait on this day before the cold would win, and I would head for home. And then I began to hear a different sound, the faint, rythmic crunch of a deer walking, muffled by the wind. I turned my head toward the noise and saw a beautiful buck walking up the gully straight at me; he had to see me...but he didn't. It all happens so quickly: I raised my rifle; I saw the deer in my scope; I pulled the trigger; the deer went down. And it was over. The deer's life had ended. The day's hunt ended. The hunting season ended. Fall ended. And I was greatful for a tradition which began for me some 50 years ago with my grandfather, uncles and cousins, and now continues with a good friend.




I'm sure that some of you see this as perfectly barbaric. If you are a vegetarian, I respect the moral stand you have taken. If you grill your hamburgers on Sunday afternoon, there is no moral high ground for you. Cows don't donate hamburg for your consumption any more than this deer donated venison to me; at least the deer lead a free and natural life, unlike the cattle being fattened in pens on their way to our freezers. What hunting does provide is an opportunity for me to participate in the life-cycle of which we are all a part and that participation brings a humbling appreciation for nature, a personal connection between me and the animal which will give me sustinance, and a reverence for life.

11-4-08 Part I

It is hard for me to put into words the significance of this day, for me and for my country; but I need to try.

Part I:
There is a racial aspect for sure. I was raised to treat all people courteously but admonished that “lions and tigers are both cats, but they don’t mate.” In elementary school, I didn’t understand why my mother didn’t want me to go to my black friend’s house or why his mother was so nervous when I did. I didn’t understand why, in junior high in 1960–61, he became so angry when other boys called him ‘nigger.’ I moved to Virginia in 1965 as a senior in high school and was oblivious to the fact that Fairfax County Schools were integrated by court order that very year. I did learn…slowly. As a social studies teacher, I transferred to Fairfax High School in1972. When I went for my interview at this new school, I drove up Rebel Run and walked into the school foyer where the only display in the trophy case was a 4’ X 6’ rebel flag – the Stars and Bars. I think it was at that moment that I really began to understand. Later that year as my 11th grade classes explored ‘black history’, I will always remember a young lady, the only black student in the class, who described her experience in her sixth grade class (1967) where her teacher required her stand whenever she spoke and required her to address her white classmates as ma’am and sir when she spoke to them. Fast forward 15 years, and I was working with my former student’s mother in Human Resources; another 10 years and I was in charge of teacher recruitment for Fairfax County Schools, including minority recruitment. I spent a lot of time talking with members of the minority community who doubted that a middle-aged, white, bald guy could do that job. I am proud of the respect and support I received from our teachers and administrators and from recruiters from other school systems during that time. Fast forward another 10 years and there is Nov 4th and Barack Hussein Obama. I have always been proud of my country and its promise, and I have always believed in the power of Jefferson’s words in the Declaration of Independence and of King’s Dream. But we have struggled as a people and a nation to live up to that promise. I do not pretend to know how this day must feel to African-American families; but, today, I am so proud of the people of this country… I feel a sense of pride in being an American that I don’t remember feeling before, and it is a really, really great feeling!

Fall Is the Best

Fall is my favorite season. Pictures never quite show the colors as they are. We have 'leaf peepers' who come for miles to see mother nature show her stuff; they are a source of tourist dollars that allow many of our businesses to survive, much like Christmas shopping at the mall for suburban stores. In fact we started a day trip to 'see the leaves', but we soon came home. When you have this as your front yard, why travel?!



Garden Bounty
We finally picked the last of our garden crop as we had two morning frosts this week. We gave much of our harvest away to folks we know in Plainfield, and we supplied the Grange supper with squash (butternut) which cousin Bob cooked with maple syrup and cinnamon. Ummmmmm Good! We kept as much potato, squash, carrots, and sunflower seeds as we think we can use. It's been a great year - very rewarding to see our crops grow and to be able to share our bounty.



Plainfield Apple Fest
Every fall Plainfield has an Apple Fest during the Columbus Day weekend. We went to a roast pork supper at the Grange Hall last night. There is a Maxfield Parrish print sale at the Town Hall. The church puts on an apple dessert fest -- all homemade. Today I took part in the Cemetery Tour where members of the Historical Society dress up as former residents of Plainfield and tell their stories. Visitors pay a fee to listen which helps the historical society put on other events. I was Dr. Charles Beckley who was the town doctor from 1854 to 1886. We don't have a lot of information about his daily life so I used Wikipedia to find out about medicine in the 19th century and talked about that and about sheep farming which dominated Plainfield agriculture from 1830 to 1865. It was fun. Other 'actors' presented a mid-wife, a tavern owner, a store owners wife, a Revolutionary soldier, and a 10 year old girl who hanged herself in the schoolhouse window. I think the people who came were surprised and had fun also.