guerrilla mamafesto

Nothing at all or way too much?

2010-11-19T00:56:00.004-05:00

A few weeks ago, we had a play date with new friends. The other child is also on the autism spectrum. His mom said something that really stuck with me - kids on the spectrum are sweet, innocent in a way that other children aren't. She said that she really loved that about her child.

I kinda shrugged it off, agreed but then talked about something else. It made me uncomfortable. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was something about finding some good in all of this - the behavior management, the food restrictions, the insane amount of effort it takes just to get through a day. Sometimes you're just too tired to find any good, or afraid that talking about it might make it go away.

As the days went by, I continued to think about what this mom had said. In fact, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I thought about all of the kids I knew who were also on the spectrum, and was struck by this commonality in all of them. Maybe sweetness isn't the right word - it's more like a purity of heart. It's certainly that way with my Diego.

If you haven't spent time around kids on the spectrum, a common misconception - even among autism professionals - is that spectrum kids don't want to make emotional connections. Nothing could be further from the truth. Our kids want desperately to connect - sometimes they just don't have the tools to do so. Some of the obstacles that stand in the way can be low language skills, visual or auditory processing disorders, social anxiety, sensory integration challenges, or difficulty with executive functioning (poor impulse control).

Recently, though, I read a study that got me thinking about how my son interacts with others and what gets in his way. Diego is the most loving child you might ever meet. He is sweet and empathic at times. While at other times, it seems there is a complete emotional disconnect. If he's confronted by another child's emotions Diego may internalize them as his own - insisting that he's the one that is angry or hurt. This of course, can upset the other child - but Diego is actually over-empathizing. He really feels the other child's emotions as his own. It's this inconsistency that affects relationships. And that's where the study comes in.

As posited by Henry and Kamila Markram of the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology in Lausanne, suggests that the fundamental problem in autism-spectrum disorders is not a social deficiency, but rather an hypersensitivity to experience, which includes an overwhelming fear response.

“There are those who say autistic people don’t feel enough,” says Kamila Markram. “We’re saying exactly the opposite: They feel too much.” (http://tinyurl.com/pajrrk)

And of course, if you are overwhelmed by emotion - it is easy to just shut down. Imagine if 24-7, you always felt like the dial was up to 11. Imagine the coping mechanisms you'd resort to... tantrums and withdrawal don't seem that far off.

The tricky thing is that sometimes you just can't know when the hyper-emotions will pop up. Last week Diego and I were on the subway and a man on the train was asking for money to buy food. Naively, I asked Diego if he was willing to share the snack we had in our bag with this hungry man. Well, that launched us into a very intellectual discussion about why the man was hungry, didn't have a job, why, why, why... my mistake.

Later on, Diego was crying. We had already been home for an hour or so. When I asked him why he was crying, he said it was because the man on the train was hungry and had no one to take care of him. He wanted to go back and give this man his snack. It broke my heart. It also reconfirms in my mind, that children on the spectrum are capable of so much more than they are given credit for - and that truly overwhelms me.

When Moms Attack...

2010-04-19T23:31:00.003-04:00

Ok, so not literally. I'm not talking about a fist fight.
I'm talking about a mom berating her child in public.

A few weeks ago, I read a post by Lisa Belkin, whose blog, Motherlode, runs in the NY Times. The topic was Friends with Different Parenting Styles. I read in disbelief about moms who felt entitled to criticize other moms freely, after all they were friends. The discussion centered on whether to remain friends with someone who felt so comfortable telling you that your parenting sucks.

I thought, short of seeing someone hitting their kid, I couldn't really imagine criticizing someone else's parenting style. After all, shouldn't we all just be doing what's best for our own families? I have mom friends who parent quite differently than I do. We don't have problems - we have playdates, mom-dates, we get along. We respect each others choices.

And then it happened. I was in the park with my son. It was the end of the day and we were getting ready to leave. Diego had been playing with another child who was now being verbally ripped to shreds by mommy. I didn't think that the child had done anything that terrible, certainly nothing out of character for a 4-year old. But the kiddo's behavior must have pushed a button, because mom lost it. I had to wonder if she spoke to her child like that all of the time or if she was having a really bad day. After all, I had spoken to her on occasion and she seemed nice enough. But I was shocked by the hurtful words she was saying to her little child.

Now let me say upfront, I yell. My mom was a yeller. I'm a yeller. And, though I do have a pretty long fuse, when I've reached my limit I resort to yelling. I am not proud of it. It is not how I want to parent. I struggle every day to have more patience, to try to understand what I can learn from the situation at hand. But, sometimes there's nothing else I am able to do in that moment. So I resort to yelling my child's name in hopes that he will hear the stress and seriousness in my voice. And of course, it doesn't work. It never works. Yelling at your child only makes them tune you out ever further. Or so it seems...

When I was a child, my mother screamed at us on a regular basis. I was the oldest of four, but even when it was just me and my brother - she was always yelling. And she was mean. As much as I wanted to tune her out, I couldn't. Maybe it seemed we weren't listening - I wish that I hadn't been. But on nearly every occasion that something unpleasant came out of her mouth, I heard every word. I was scared of her. My mother scared the crap out of me. And that's really sad... it's also something that I don't want for my little boy. Which is why I struggle to keep cool, and why I'm struggling as I write this post.

Would it have mattered if this playground mom had just screamed her child's name instead of something mean? What if it was just "come here now!" Is that ok? And where do you draw the line? Maybe the effect depends on the kid - though I can't remember one time where I just heard my name screamed at me from across the room. Maybe that's just me.

Is it really my business that this woman said awful things to her child? In a way, yes. I wasn't eavesdropping - I was right there. I'll probably never say anything to this woman though. I doubt that I'd be heard (for a variety of reasons). And I don't have that kind of relationship with her. But it is an opportunity. It's a chance to learn more about myself and how I parent.

I started this blog so I could reflect on my choices as a mother, to understand how I could live a more compassionate life - for myself, for my family. Seeing behavior in others that I am uncomfortable with leads me to ask myself why? Am I sensitive in this situation because of my own childhood? Probably. Can I understand how this mom lost it? Absolutely. But, I also understand how this little child felt. This new reminder of something that happened to me such a long time ago will hopefully serve as my teacher. I pray everyday for the compassion to better handle the challenges I face as a parent. And I pray for the mindfulness to remember that anyone can be my teacher.

It's not easy being green... or is it?

2010-04-05T00:15:00.003-04:00

It is finally warm out and I feel compelled to keep all the windows open and air out the house. It's time for Spring Cleaning. It is also a great time to get started on detoxing your home.

I know it sounds intimidating, but there are a few simple things you can do right away to "green" up your place. First, take stock of what you have in the house. Here's everything you'll need to make household cleaners that are safe and effective, and won't mess with your endocrine or reproductive systems.

The list:

distilled white vinegar
baking soda
borax
washing soda (in the laundry aisle of your supermarket, near the borax)
essential oils (the type is up to you - chose any oils with antimicrobial or antibacterial properties - I use tea tree or bergamot in the kitchen and lavender in the bathroom)
liquid soap - like Dr. Bronner's - something natural
spray bottles to put your cleaners in (I got mine in the dollar store)
a paint container (the 5 gallon kind - from a hardware store)
a big box ( to dump all your current toxic cleaners in)

You may already have a lot of this in the house to begin with... if not, most of it can be purchased cheaply and will last an inordinate amount of time. The most expensive item will be the liquid soap, but again, it will last a long time. This is everything you need to get started.

So, what can you do with all these items? You'll make all-purpose kitchen cleaners, bathroom cleaners, windex, and laundry detergent. And it is so easy, you'll never spend money on brand-name cleaners again!

Kitchen Cleaner
- spray bottle
- warm water
- vinegar
- essential oil (citrus or tea tree oil)

First, label your bottle. Then add in 1 part vinegar and two parts water. Add 10-20 drops of essential oil. Shake well. Voila! You can use this to clean the entire kitchen.

When you need some scrubbing power on greasy surfaces, spray first and sprinkle with baking soda. Rub mixture onto greasy surface. Wipe off excess. Spray & wipe to get rid of residue.

The spray can be used on all surfaces - including glass - with no streaks!

Bathroom cleaner
Repeat above, increasing vinegar slightly. Substitute lavender oil in the mixture.

You can use baking soda in the bathroom, as well. I use it to clean the toilet and it always sparkles. First, spray with the lavender cleaner. Then sprinkle with baking soda. Leave it for a few minutes, then clean with the toilet brush.

Mirrors? Use your lavender cleaner - you will never have streaks again. You can even wipe the mirrors with a rag instead of paper towels with out streaking!

Laundry Detergent
1 cup Borax
1 cup Washing Soda
1/4 - 1/2 cup liquid soap
5 gallon bucket
hot water

** When mixing the detergent, be careful not to inhale the powder from the borax, it can irritate the nasal passages and lungs. I just keep my face turned away as I pour it from the box.**

Dissolve the borax and washing soda in the bucket with 2 gallons of hot water. Once the mixture is dissolved, add in the liquid soap and mix together. Fill bucket with 2 additional gallons of hot water and mix thoroughly. Put some detergent in a smaller container that you can easily carry to the laundry room. Seal the bucket up tightly.

Use 1/3 - 1/2 cup per load. For the first few washes, add 1/2 cup of vinegar to the rinse cycle as the residue from your old detergent washes out of the clothes. Vinegar is also a great fabric softener - 1/2 cup - and your clothes will smell fresh - not vinegary.

This mixture lasts about 4 months in my house. I've been using it for over a year and my clothes are clean, soft, and look great.

You can do all of this in 30 minutes or less. Your house will be clean and non-toxic. And you'll save money, too!

what's in a name?

2010-03-22T23:49:00.003-04:00

I started this post nearly two months ago.

We had a diagnosis - combined type ADHD. Well, that's in addition to the SPD - which is not generally recognized as a diagnosis. I was ok with ADHD. I expected it. But then there was another...

Aspergers.

When you're pregnant, there are always things you worry about - sometimes irrationally. We have a lot of neurological issues in our family. I worried about my baby being born intersex (irrational) or having Autism (not so irrational). And now, for now, Diego is on the spectrum. His diagnosis could change at any point - even in just talking to one clinician over another. There are so many comorbid symptoms with neurobiological disorders - it makes diagnosis really challenging. He does have AS traits, though they're not severe. It could be that the sensory issues are causing the ADHD issues. Who knows. Is it the chicken or the egg?

I was ok for a bit after I found out. I told my self everything I was supposed to - the diagnosis doesn't define him, he's still the same kid, his issues are still the same. Nothing had changed except we had something to call it. Until I had to say it out loud. That's when the uncontrollable sobbing began.

It's been a few weeks. I can talk about it now without crying. And while I do have those flashes of sadness from time to time, most of the time I am just so in love with my sweet little boy - there is very little room for sadness.

resolution 2.0

2010-01-17T23:42:00.003-05:00

This year's resolution continues on my theme from 2009. Last year, I "greened" up our household environment - got rid of chemicals, changed our food sources a bit, and started to make more of our food from scratch. I'll continue to build on that this year, but I've decided to focus more directly on me, too.

Here's my wish list of changes I'd like to make in 2010:

waste less food - stop throwing out leftovers, plan meals, compost
create less waste - greatly reduce the ziplock bags in my life, reuse/repurpose household stuff
get back to my meditation practice
go back to ballet class
switch over to natural beauty products - makeup, face cleansers, fragrance
detox my own body - take vitamins, stop taking medicines (including BC), do a cleanse, decaffeinate

and here's my biggie (guys, you can stop reading here, TMI...)

stop using disposable feminine hygiene products. That's right - I'm going to attempt to make the switch to the Diva Cup.

Never heard of it? Click the link above to learn more and also read about an awesome women-owned business doing great things for girls and women around the world. Oh, and wish me luck...

cleaning up my act

2009-12-21T22:51:00.003-05:00

What was your New Year's resolution for 2009?

I resolved to live a more natural, green, holistic, call it whatever you want-life. Sure, I had made some changes over the years in this direction, but I never really committed myself to it. When I was pregnant I moved towards organic, local foods. I started to research holisitic remedies to keep in my mommy-arsenal. I bought my Tom's of Maine toothpaste and deodorant. That was really it.

By 2009, I felt I finally had it together enough to simplify my life. But where to begin? It can be really overwhelming trying to make lifestyle changes. So, I started with baby steps. I didn't want this resolution to go the way of years past. My resolution became detoxifying our lives: household cleaners, personal care products, food containers, and food.

I'm proud to say that it's gone pretty well. Here's my list of accomplishments:

renewed CSA membership - for spring and winter shares
shopped less at grocery stores, bought more food locally & more organic products, bought in bulk when feasible
switched to glass containers for food storage
planted a fire escape garden - grew basil and a tomato plant (though I only got three tomatoes)
consistently bought shampoo, soap, toothpaste, deodorant that was organic and/or natural for myself (still trying to find a baby wash that works for my son - so right now it's conventional, but fragrance-free)
switched my makeup to fragrance-free (baby steps here...)

and here's what I am most proud of...

i've made our household cleaners for an entire year now - kitchen & bathroom cleaners, laundry detergent, and (less successfully) dishwashing detergent

For once, I am really happy with my resolution. I won't spend New Year's Eve thinking about why my resolution didn't work out, what I could have done differently. The key was doing it little by little. And I'll expand upon my "green" theme for this coming year as well. I'm going to focus on creating less waste and getting rid of my nemesis - the ziplock bag.

unconditional parenting

2009-12-13T01:27:00.009-05:00

I always think that everyone parents their kids the same way I do. That is, until I am confronted with a "time out." Now even my son gives his toys "time outs." What's a mom to do?

A while back I sent an email to our "neighborhood moms" yahoo group asking if anyone else was AP'ing their kids, and if yes, would they want to get together to support each other. I got one response. The mom even told me I was brave for asking the group such a question.

That was two years ago, and I have definitely seen a shift in our neighborhood away from the Ferber-Brazelton-Super Nanny schools of parenting. There are women doing EC with their four-month old babes, baby-wearers here and there, and lots of extended breastfeeding. All things to be really happy about. But reading an article in the NYT a few weeks ago, I was reminded that everyone is not as progressive as I'd like to believe.

The article was on unconditional parenting, written by alfie kohn, titled to draw readers in: When a Parent’s ‘I Love You’ Means ‘Do as I Say’, with a follow up on the Times' parenting blog: Punishing Children With Love. These articles are mostly excerpted from his book Unconditional Parenting: Moving from Rewards and Punishments to Love and Reason. I've read Kohn's book twice now, and am working to incorporate his principals into my parenting relationship with Diego. For those of you who haven't read his book, it's out there. Way out there. But, as a Buddhist (or some semblance of one...), I find his approach compassionate, reasoned, and respectful. It is also confronting. It is hard to challenge your long-held assumptions, accept that you might not be right, and then try things differently.

The premise of the book is that parenting based on punishments and/or rewards tells kids that we love them when they conform to our notion of how they should be. It makes perfect sense. It resonates with my own childhood. I certainly felt that my own parents' love was conditional - even though they told me it wasn't. But the old adage is right - actions do speak louder than words. The book suggests that children should have a say in their lives, that decisions can be shared, and that there doesn't always have to be a winner.

I have worked hard to be a more conscious parent. To speak instead of yell (I've got a pretty long fuse...). To know that when Diego and I both want something - but not the same something - that there is a way for both of us to have our needs met. It is hard. To be this present takes a lot of effort. Especially when you have a child with special needs. I'll admit, I am not consistent. Sometimes the only thing that will snap my kid out of his world is a "DIEGO!" But, when I lose my temper and use words that I regret, I apologize to my child. Just as he apologizes to me when he says something that hurts my feelings. It's a give and take. And I hope that I am modeling behavior that he will carry with him through life. Respect others. Apologize when you hurt someone. Make amends.

Reading the comments in response to Kohn's articles in the TImes, it is clear just how confronted people are by the notion of giving up some of their parental power. Responses ranged from authoritarian to downright absurd. I read many comments, some mocking - some genuine, asking Kohn if you could say "no" when your child was doing something dangerous, like walking out into traffic. These are the people that probably should not have reproduced. Even the most laissez-faire of parents (though that is not who Kohn is) know that when your child is is danger, you tell them "stop!" How else will they make it to adulthood? The amount of ridiculous comments Kohn received tells me that 1. we have a lot of folks out there that should not be parents, and 2. there are lots of unfulfilled parents taking out their impotence on their kids.

That aside, I struggle with how to parent in this way when my kid needs more structure. Excessive structure. How do I reconcile the amorphous nature of Kohn's approach with Diego's need for organization, routine, and sometimes strict boundaries. Can I give him that structure in a non-authoritarian way? It's something I've only recently had to start thinking about, but I am determined to find my way. Stay tuned...

Thanksgiving

2009-11-25T23:01:00.005-05:00

I used to hate Thanksgiving.

For the life of me, I couldn't understand why we would celebrate a fairy tale, while ignoring how the indigenous people of this land suffered at our hands. When it was my turn to say grace at the table, I always said a prayer remembering the people we displaced, segregated, dehumanized in the name of our own "freedom." Needless to say, I was the downer at the table.

Many, many years later, I am still not crazy about this holiday. I would rather we have an Indigenous People's Day or a Harvest Celebration and just be rid of these holidays that discount the experience of those who were here first. But, I have been able to find personal meaning in this day as I become more aware of the politics of food, and the importance of supporting local farmers. I am thankful for my local CSA and the bounty of food that we have been blessed with this past season, despite many challenges. I can celebrate the harvests of the farmers on Long Island who provided my family with fresh, organic produce over the past six months.

And there's the other part of this equation - my family. I can finally feel real thanks and appreciation for family. Growing up, my family life was challenging. So while I did love my family, we weren't close. Today, though, I have that feeling of true gratitude and unconditional love. I owe that to Diego - my sweet baby - and all of the challenges that have come along with him.

Diego has Sensory Processing Disorder, which in general makes me alternately crazy and sad. But SPD has actually given me a gift. To help Diego, I have had to slow down in a way that would not have happened with a neurotypical child. It was forced upon me. I had to slow down so he could be ok. When you can do this, and really meet your child at their level - special needs or not - it is an amazing gift, an opportunity to understand love - to truly give love to another person. However I have had to get to this place, to this bond with my child, I can honestly say that I am grateful. And that is what I will celebrate on Thanksgiving.

Zyrtec = One Crazy Kid

2009-11-22T22:19:00.007-05:00

Yesterday, I took my son to the doctor. He has had a cold since he started back at school again in September. I have taken him now to three different doctors. All the same diagnosis. It's a cold. Well, thanks I already knew that. At least the doctor we saw yesterday told me to do something more than saline spray. Now, I don't like medicine. I am anti-medicine most of the time. But nothing seems to he making a difference in Diego's cold. So, now my options are antihistamines, antibiotics, or albuterol.

I decided to start with the antihistamines. (I had already given him benadryl with little to no effect.) As I stood in CVS weighing my options, I took Diego's food sensitivities into account. I chose dye-free, sugar-free zyrtec - for indoor and outdoor allergies. I figured I had all my bases covered. So, off we went to our lunch date - a mama and the light of her life.

As the day went on Diego became antsy. He was snappy, almost obnoxious. He is not a kid who answers back unless something is going on with him. I assumed it was because we hadn't been to the playground. We got through the day and I was glad for bedtime.
Today was no different, it was almost as if he was jumping out of his skin. We were going ice skating later in the day and I knew that would wipe him out. As the day wore on, though, Diego's behavior didn't get better. He was scattered, hyper, throwing toys and yelling at us. The ice skating, I thought, must have over stimulated him instead of tiring him out. He was ok for a bit, played with a friend and actually sat down to eat. But by bathtime, I was at my wits end. He was so hyper that he hit his head in the bathtub because he had been shaking his head so hard that his bottom slipped out from under him. WithTears wiped away, Diego got his pajamas on, took vitamins, medicine, and read a story. then off to bed.

Once he was asleep, I went over the day - what was different, what did he eat, what did he drink. The only difference was the zyrtec. Ugh. I went to the internet, googled zyrtec side effects, and sure enough hundreds of decriptions of exactly what I was seeing. And I had just given him another dose. 24 more hours of this - at least he'll be asleep for 10 of them.
Not sure what to do now... my other option is claritin. It's a different antihistamine. Maybe he won't have a reaction. But really, I'd rather just deal with his cold.

Why...

2009-11-21T17:57:00.002-05:00

The psychologist I spoke with this week, told me to make an appointment for my son with a pediatric neurologist. She said that the episodes of zoning out could be petit mal (absence) seizures. I’ve been up and down emotionally in handling all of his issues. Things aren’t too serious; let’s face it, it could be much worse. But since I made the neurologist appointment, all I feel like doing is crying.

I shouldn’t be surprised with all of the neurological issues in our family – adhd on both sides, depression, anxiety, tourette’s, dysgraphia – I thought I had prepared myself for the reality the Diego might have some challenges. I’m thankful it’s not more serious. But I just can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that this is his reality.

My beautiful, sweet, and oh so smart boy – why should he have to deal with these things? Why can’t his body stop moving, why can’t his father pick him up for a hug, why can’t I get a picture of anything but the back of his head? Maybe it’s because we’re moving towards getting a true diagnosis for him, that I am feeling so sad for him. Sad for us. His life won’t be what I envisioned. I’m not talking about some fantasy that my kid will be the president or a famous doctor, or anything like that. I never wanted to plot out his career path. I’m talking about a life where living up to his potential isn’t a daily struggle, where he can do things that other kids get to do; have a spontaneous, whimsical day; eat pizza, be able to sit down and read a book.

I know that I'm grieving. I want him to have the world at his fingertips. Everything is just so much work. Even simple tasks. Go get your shoes. Time to go. Walk to school. I know life isn’t easy. But childhood should be. And for my beautiful boy, it is not.

Diego's Birth Day

2008-08-18T22:17:00.035-04:00

Somewhere around 2am on August 7, 2005, my water broke. My husband and I had just had our final round of pregnancy sex. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I felt a small pop, and then a stream of warm liquid. It was much more then a trickle, but not the gush I was expecting. I went to the bathroom to see what was going on. I cleaned myself up a bit and then went to tell Jim and call the doctor for advice. I never expected my water to break first.

When the ob called me back, she asked about my contractions – which were maybe 10-12 minutes apart - and pretty mild looking back on things. She suggested I try to get some sleep as I’d need my energy later. Of course I felt too excited to sleep, but I did lay down for a while. It was about 3:30 am. I must have dozed off, because the sun was up when I got out of bed. I took a shower and got dressed. My contractions had slowed down by then and I was getting antsy. I went to the kitchen and started to make the birthday cake for our son who I hoped would be joining us very soon. I had read about a birth-day cake in a book called Birthing from Within and it struck me as a really nice tradition to start for my family. My husband looked at me like I was a little wacky, maybe he thought I was kidding when I first mentioned it a few weeks prior. Either way, it took my mind off of the anticipation of the next contraction.

Throughout the day, I paced around the house, watched tv, sat on the birthing ball. I thought about going outside, but really didn’t want to while amniotic fluid was leaking out of me. Looking back on things, I’m sure it would have been fine. Everything seems much more dramatic while you’re actually in labor. (Add that to the list of things people should tell you about child birth…) Of course, without a strenuous walk, my contractions were not progressing. While my husband watched what seemed to be endless amounts of Dave Chappelle, I started to loose it. I was becoming very cranky. I can’t remember if I ate anything, though I’m sure I must have. I drank water, juice, and tea. I packed and repacked my hospital bag and tried to read. The day just seems like a big blur now.

By the evening, my contractions were still not progressing. As we approached almost a full day with no end in sight, I was starting to get nervous. The doctor reassured me it was fine and that I could safely wait out the night to see what would happen. But I had already begun to worry about the possibility of infection and something happening to my little boy. (Towards the end of my pregnancy, I had fallen on the stairs of our apartment building and had also been in a near-collision, so I was having awful flashes of dread from time to time.) I couldn’t wait any longer. I called the doctor and told her that I wanted to go to the hospital. I think my contractions were between 5-8 minutes apart. She was willing to try to jumpstart my labor, so my husband and I met her there about an hour later.

We took a taxi into the city to drop off the dog with our cousins and then headed off to the hospital. My choice to be induced meant that I could not use the birthing center at the hospital, which I knew would be the case ahead of time. In that moment, I was ok with it. My patience was gone. I just wanted the baby to be born. By the time I was hooked up to the IV, my contractions actually started to get stronger. After another hour, I was still only 1 cm dilated. Twenty-four hours of labor, and practically nothing to show for it. Still, I sat on the birthing ball, said mantras between contractions, and waited. And waited. After a while longer, the doctor suggested I try to get some sleep. Man, was I tired. When she suggested an epidural so I could actually sleep, I considered it. And where was my husband when I obviously not thinking clearly – sleeping. I was too tired to be angry and just said yes. And that was my big mistake.

If you’ve never had an epidural, spinal tap, block, etc… don’t. I’m sure others may say they’ve had less harrowing experiences than I did, but don’t believe them. The various, sadistic attempts at getting the needle positioned in my spine were way more painful than pushing my son out of my body. It was obvious to everyone that the resident did not know what he was doing. When the doctor inserted a catheter into me, I nearly jumped off the table. The incorrectly positioned epidural was not having any effect on me. That was it. I became a sobbing, hysterical mess. I was begging the doctor to just get the baby out of me. It was so bad that she actually asked my husband if I needed a sedative. Ugh. The only thing that calmed me down was a nurse who told me that I was depriving my child of oxygen by crying so much. Who knows if she was lying or not, but the thought of my actions harming my baby was enough motivation for me to regain composure. And then it happened – my contractions kicked in full force.

With terrifying intensity, I went from barely dilated to ready to push in the span of 45 minutes. All the while, the nurses were insisting that the epidural was working and I was just feeling pressure. Why doesn’t anyone tell you that pressure is code for some of the worst pain you’ll ever experience? Or that you don’t really have to take a shit – that feeing is just the baby making it’s way out? All very important pieces of information. I’ll know for the next time. It was around 4 am and my baby boy was ready to be born. The burning was so intense, but I was exhilarated. I was now in the zone. Determined not to tear, I controlled my pushing at the doctor’s direction. She was equally as committed as I to avoiding an episiotomy. And it paid off.

At 4:37 am, my sweet Diego was born. I have never felt so much joy as in those moments just before and right after he came out. My life was forever altered by this strange, squiggly, slimy new person lying on my breast. At that moment, I realized the true possibility of unconditional love. I thank my son everyday for the wonderful gift his birth has been to me. Diego is now three years old. It has taken me this long to be able to write his birth story. I was filled with mixed emotions about the actual process of giving birth – my hospital experience, how I did not stick to my original plan. It is only in the past few months that I have been able to let some of that go.

Earlier this year, I had a miscarriage that has put many things into perspective. I may not have had the birth I wanted, but I ended up with something so much better. As I write this, Diego has just spent his first night in a big-boy bed and is learning to use the potty. Soon he’ll be all grown up. I am acutely aware that I want to savor each moment I have with him through each stage of his life. He is my light. I can’t imagine my life with out this incredible, little person, for whom I have boundless amounts of love – Diego Francisco – born 8.08.2005.