Two weeks ago I sent this letter off to my local newspaper, Chico Enterprise Record.  This morning a friend called me to say it had been published.  They cut out a bit, but the main message is there.  This is a bad move for EnloeMedicalCenter -- it shows that despite the practices the facility is trying to implement, by losing their option for midwifery, they don't really care about patient-centered care and holistic alternatives to harsh (over)medicalization when it comes to their mothers and babies.  All I envision is, these new, beautifully spacious and accommodating rooms, with private bathrooms, tubs, and a nice place for a partner to sleep, while a woman does not have the option of a practitioner whose goal is to be "with women," during the birth experience.

Here it is:

Chico is losing a valuable resource. Soon, there will be no certified-nurse midwives delivering babies at EnloeMedicalCenter. Enloe has painstakingly taken the difficult steps toward becoming a baby-friendly hospital. This is an arduous process, and once achieved, it will place Enloe on a list of only 77 U.S. hospitals that can boast of such status. This program "promotes, protects and supports breastfeeding." The core tenets include avoiding artificial nipples and unneeded supplements, and keeping mothers and babies together during their stay. This is best for babies.

Enloe has recently adopted the Planetree Philosophy designed to treat patients in a kind, compassionate way, and to put their needs first. This is best for patients.

The midwifery model of care focuses on birth as a normal life event, not a medical crisis where a woman needs saving, perhaps from an iatrogenic intervention. All over the world midwives safely help babies into life, and it has been this way since the dawn of man. Midwives in our area provide safe, gentle, kind and compassionate birth options — whether a certified midwife at a hospital or a community midwife at home. This is best for women. It is unfortunate that Enloe will no longer have a place for families choosing midwifery care. — Stacie Bingham, Chico

For more information:

Health Care Crisis Claims Chico Midwifery

Enloe Addressing Provider Squeeze

Midwives Should not be Eliminated

Letter to Midwifery Patients and Supporters



If you are in support of women having the option of a midwifery-assisted birth at Enloe, please take a minute to let the facility know:

Patient Service Excellence

I was recently asked how women in general have the courage to go through birth more than one time.

My response:  Are you kidding? When I think over my last birth experience (11-05), I keep wishing I could go back to that last hour of most intense, hard, full-on kill-me-now labor. While it was hard and intense, what I remember and long for is the closeness that was in that room with my mom, husband, doula, and midwife. The quiet support they offered me. The jokes in between contractions. The anticipation of knowing the baby would be here soon. There was such a special feeling shared amongst us all -- like there was absolutely nothing else happening anywhere else in the entire world, or universe, for that matter.

Yes, during that intense time I said two funny things I 150% meant. 1) I told my midwife, "I'll let you pull him out with a vacuum, you know." 2) I told the room, "I don't think I can do this again."

My first baby was pulled out via vacuum after three hours of pushing. I felt let-down and insignificant, like my doctor could not help me push him out by suggesting another position, or just letting me take my time -- it was more like she wanted to get home. My dh knew I would be so upset if I actually did have this baby pulled out that same way, so he knew he would not let me do that (if it were not needed). My midwife laughed, too -- she recognized it as a cry for help and plea of desperation, but not what I really would have been happy with in the long run.

When I said the second thing I meant I could not have another baby after this. My midwife looked at my husband and said, "Do you want to get this in writing?" I held strongly to this until day 6 postpartum -- and then I remember thinking, "I would do it again."

There is just something so incredible about being on the cusp of that life-changing experience. I think I would have 5 labors/births to not have to go through 9 months of pregnancy, that's really where the draining experiences come in my opinion!

Before my first baby, I didn't have so much fear simply because I had no idea what to expect.  After my first, and seeing how things went and knowing more, yes I was pretty scared to have another baby. After my second I was even more scared -- they say the third birth is a wild card, and I also had this cognitive distortion that, well babies and I were safe the first and second time, so something bad is bound to happen now! 

After my third birth I felt like, heck -- they are just starting to get good! Having my third baby made me want to have another one, and I never felt that way before.

A while back I posted about my own experiences visiting the dentist.  This experience involves my two-year-old.

In October, Jonas went to see our family pediatric dentist -- I knew he had a cavity between his two front teeth.  This dentist is awesome.  She is very low-key.  The child sits facing the parent in a straddle position.  The doctor then wheels her chair up really close so her knees are touching the parent's knees, and she eases the child into her lap.  This was just what we needed as the regular chair was not only too big for Jonas, it was way too scary!

Once the time came to do the work, the dentist had two assistants with her, plus me, holding his lower body in my lap (and keeping his hands restrained when needed).  One assistant was the go-to gal to get supplies, tools, etc., and the other assistant was purely there to help keep Jonas immobile.  This all sounds harsh, and being the mom of three, I quickly understand crying due to pain and crying due to not-wanting-to-be-somewhere; I don't seek out opportunities to torture my children, I just realize sometimes these things are necessary and needed for good health.

The first time I witnessed my child being inflicted with something that was uncomfortable (yes, even painful), was when my first baby was being treated for a septic infection following his birth (probably due to his hospital birth, as I was not GBS+ and germs do tend to hover in hospitals).  I was discharged on day 2, and he had to stay another 9 days without my full-time care.  I came every three hours to feed him.  One time as I was walking into the NICU, I heard Jacob crying.  I saw the nurses were trying to hold him down so they could place an IV into his head.  A nurse looked at me and said, "Mom, you can stay and help hold him, or you can leave until we are done."  I jumped right in and helped hold my baby while a bit of his hair was shaved and the procedure was finished; it did help to hear his crying was the same when they were shaving his head as they were when the needle went in :::shudder:::.  Still not a pleasant experience for a newly postpartum mother and her first baby.  I just felt, though, if I couldn't handle it, I would have left him all alone, and that was more heart-breaking to me than what needed to be done for him medically.

I guess I think of myself as a tough mom, because I learned early on if I let something get to me, I would be asked to leave, and I didn't want that.  So I am a let-me-help-hold-him-while-he-gets-his-shots-so-he-has-my-support kind of mom.

The one assistant that was helping keep Jonas still was on her knees on the floor.  I knew her pain!  As a doula I often find myself in that same position.  "You need a garden pad," I told her.  "What?" she asked?  Over the sounds of the dentist's tools, I explained I was a doula, and what that entails.  "I carry a bag full of things that often help a woman when she is laboring.  The one thing I ALWAYS use, though, is my kneeling pad.  Moms have used it, dads have used it, and even midwives have used it.  That's what you need."  She agreed, and slid another towel under her poor knees.

Jonas got through it all, and we left to go directly to the toy store to get him a special toy for his trauma.  Once I got a chance, guess what?  I dropped off a garden pad off to the office with a thank-you card.  

I want to empower her. I hear this a lot. I understand the idea. And yet, I maintain, you cannot empower someone. Where I think we often go wrong is, we say empower, but what we really mean is overpower.

Within the modes of discourse, I have often been a fan of The Essay of Definition. Coupled with this simplistic, overused style, I will add a little pet named, Compare and Contrast.

(Now, the obligatory introduction.) According to Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary, empower means to give official authority or legal power to, or to promote the self-actualization or influence of. Common use: I want to empower her to have a great birth experience.

Many of us would like to think we are such convincingly dynamic childbirth educators, doulas, empowered-women-who-have-had-great-birth-experiences – that simply through our shared thoughts and feelings, we can convince a woman to come over from the Dark Side and want to have something like we had or believed should be had.

To affect with overwhelming intensity the way a woman feels and interject one’s own agenda is not empowering, but overpowering. Likewise, to overcome by superior force her intended desires in regards to birth is to overpower her. When, overcome by passion, zest, zeal, and one’s own pre-conceived notions about the way a woman should birth, one may begin to provide…more power than is needed or desirable. Yet these are the ways we often try to empower.

This is just not reality-based.

Empowerment is not giving a woman your personal tools and teaching her how to build your perfect birth. Empowerment is opening the shed, allowing her to become familiar with all the tools held within, and then stepping back and confidently trusting she will build for herself the birth that is right for her, her baby, and her family.