welcome little one

I stood in the center of our little living room- more a den, really- contemplating rearrangement options. It was about midnight and right then seemed a good time for moving furniture. Thankfully, before I started taking books off shelves, it hit me: I'm in labor. I recalled our birth class instructor two years ago warning that if mom starts frantically cleaning at an odd time (midnight, perhaps?) it may just be a sign that labor is approaching. Something internally has switched and, before you're even registering contractions, your psyche knows "if we're going to get anything else done before this baby arrives, now is the time!"

Just as I did with Alice, I had been having contractions for about two weeks. My body really likes to practice. The midwives kept saying they would see me soon, warning that once the baby decided to debut, it would do so quickly. Thank goodness for the heads up...

Come 1:30AM, I started timing my contractions. They were beginning their shift from practicing to progressing, starting to get distractingly painful. Just hours earlier I'd told Jake how odd it was to be aching for the pain of labor. I was tired of the measly practice contractions and found myself looking down at my massive middle saying aloud, "come on baby! these need to hurt more to get us anywhere!" It is like begging to be hit by a truck. And this labor could be nearly compared to the speed with which a car accident takes place. Within fifteen minutes I woke up Jake. By 2:30AM, on all fours at the base of our stairs, I barely managed to text my sister "Go time." By 2:45AM I was keeping an important bit of information to myself while we waited for Alice's babysitter to arrive: I was already feeling the need to push.

Jake didn't understand why I was frustrated that he was taking the time to brush his teeth. WE NEED TO GO NOW. As soon as our babysitter arrived- on her own birthday, coincidentally!- I waddled myself out to the car and climbed in with my knees on the floor, facing the seat back. The cool of the leather felt so good on my forehead. Jake finished brushing his teeth and even ran back in the house to grab his gum- he really had no idea I was on the brink of having a baby in our driveway. Looking back, we agree that maybe that would have been useful information to have shared.

We arrived at the birth center at 3AM. Our midwife and my sister drove in right behind us. The director of the birth center met us in the parking lot and ushered us into the same room where we labored with Alice. I immediately took off my pants and climbed onto the bed, on all fours. She checked me and our midwife and my sister appeared in the doorway as I asked if I could push and got the go ahead. I wish I could have seen the look on Jake's face! I could practically hear it in his "what!?!" He'd thought we had hours to go.

First push and the baby crowned. Second push and the head was out. Third push- out came the shoulders. Forth- the torso. One more push, and our baby was born, nine minutes after we'd arrived, weighing in at 9 pounds, 4 ounces and 22 inches long.

We'd been debating between the names Clara and Margot. After barreling out of my body, in her first hour with us, our little girl pooped and peed on me,  nursed, burped and nursed some more. It seemed her name was not the lolling, lovely 'Clara." She wanted GO in her title: MarGOt.

And here we are, one week into our lives with Margot Leigh. Our beautiful child of light.

There is much more I could share- things that feel even bigger than how she arrived: Margot's first introduction to Alice is chief among them. I believe that may have been more staggering a moment for me than her birth. For now, suffice it to say that Margot's birth was a dream and Alice has made me the most proud mother in all the world. I love my girls. My girls.

we need to stick together

The intense vitriol around the vaccine debate is debilitating. It undermines honest, productive, compassionate conversation. Debate has become divisive. Name calling is the norm. It is truly embarrassing.

Can we take a moment? Please? A temporary ceasefire is desperately needed to remember why we all care so adamantly about this subject in the first place. We are talking about our KIDS- their safety, health and future. We all want the best for our kids. 

Those who vaccinate want the best for their kids.

Those who do not vaccinate want the best for their kids.

I refuse to vilify. I do not believe in "bad guys." I believe in people- all of us capable of good and bad. Selfish and harmful choices are made every day, by each one of us. The redemption of this reality is that though selfish, we are also capable of great good. I believe that the majority of us are doing the best we can with the information we have. 

All that said, as the debate has gotten more absurd, a certain unmistakably untruthful argument has been trumpeted and it needs to be taken off the table as unproductive: "vaccines are completely safe!"

Have you ever heard of a drug with no side effects? Time and again I have watched drug commercials for medications that seem relatively optional- quality of life related, not life or death deciding- and then listened to the quiet list of side effects whispered as the commercial closes. These often include things like "heart attack," "suicidal thoughts," or "death." This is not because a large number of men taking Viagra are going to DIE. Rather, it is because the pharmaceutical company producing and selling these drugs are liable. They are required to tell us the potential side effects- all of them- so they won't be sued should they occur. 

We all know there are side effects of taking medication. Tylenol has side effects ("severe liver damage"). Benadryl has side effects (anything from "nausea" to "trouble breathing"). Taking medication is always a cost-risk analysis.

We need to acknowledge as untrue the assertion that vaccines are, without fail, safe. Like water! With no side effects! If this were true the pharmaceutical industry would not have threatened to pull out of making vaccines in the 1980s due to the increase in vaccine injury lawsuits. If vaccines could cause no possible harm, there would be no reason for the National Vaccine Injury Compensation Program (created by the US government in 1988). Since its institution our government has paid out $2.8 billion in vaccine injury compensation. 

We need to acknowledge that this is not a clean issue and that the yelling is not productive. The shameless malice and rancor taking over this conversation is not getting us anywhere. As voices get louder and faces flush deeper shades of red, the pharmaceutical industry continues to make an obscene amount of money off of something for which they can not be held accountable. In 2009, the Wall Street Journal published a brief piece saying that "the lack of liability for the pharmaceutical industry compromises safety." You don't have to dig very deep to find the real issue here- follow the money. 

According to the World Health Organization there is "an inherent conflict of interest between the legitimate business goals of manufacturers and the social, medical and economic needs of providers and the public to select and use drugs in the most rational way. This is particularly true where drugs companies are the main source of information as to which products are most effective." Accountability is desperately needed. We are talking about a $300 billion market. On top of this, $267,076,420 has been spent on pharmaceutical lobbying from 1998-2014- $16,610,000 in 2014 alone. 

Why is an industry immune from liability spending more on lobbying than oil companies?

THESE are the real issues that ought to make us angry. Parents should not be pitted against parents, calling others idiotic or foolish for taking a stand on either side. 

We have made choices for our daughter based on family medical history and personal convictions, weighing the risks on both sides and acknowledging that there are risks to vaccinating and risks to not vaccinating. I pray that every parent retains this right and finds a safe community in which to make these decisions.