Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Birth Rape or a Negative Birth Experience?

I've been planning blog posts all week but I've been so busy living life I haven't had the time to write about it. Too bad too because there is some great stuff too. We've been baking, schooling, playing, crafting, sewing, knitting, cooking, dancing, meeting and of course, drinking coffee. I have even made bread. There will be a post about that, there HAS to be a post about that.

But instead of a post on golden crust and French style homemade bread I find myself with much heavier topics on my mind.


I haven't written about birth much and haven't actually attended one since last December and I was the birthing woman. This feels strange but also right at this time. Still a birth junkie though, I've been reading as usual and today I read this article on the Parenting blog. Melanie, the author, addresses the use of the fairly new term "birth rape" when discussing bad birth experiences. She shares with her readers some of the details of her first birth, a negative experience in a hospital and then why she feels that, though it was a negative experience that led to her choosing a home birth the next go-round, the term "birth rape" is not an appropriate label. The crux of her argument is that the doctor and hospital staff at her birth were not set out to intentionally harm her.

I want to agree with her, really I do. Maybe it is true most of the time that a bad birth experience is just that, a bad birth experience. But there are times when I feel "rape" is an appropriate term. And I say that as a rape survivor.

Merriam-Webster defines rape as:
1 a (archaic): to seize and take away by force b : despoil

2: to commit rape on

1: an act or instance of robbing or despoiling or carrying away a person by force

2: unlawful sexual activity and usually sexual intercourse carried out forcibly or under threat of injury against the will usually of a female or with a person who is beneath a certain age or incapable of valid consent — compare sexual assault, statutory rape

3: an outrageous violation


To seize and take away by force
I feel I experienced birth rape once and have witnessed it twice. I was told "if you had just gotten the epidural and delivered your placenta better then I wouldn't have to do this to you" when my OB was manually performing a DNC without any pain relief to remove the retained placenta fragments after she pulled on the cord because (and these were her words) "she was so tired and ready to be done with this already." I had been told more than once that it was the end of her shift. She entered my body 3 times that I remember, telling me to be still and I would thank her later. The way she spoke to me as she forced her arm up to her elbow inside me through my freshly torn vagina and bruised cervix while she scraped the inside of my uterus and searched for the fragments and how she had my legs restrained by nurses triggered flashbacks of my rape that haunted me for 2 years. I passed out from the pain and when I came to later I was told it was my fault, that I wanted a natural birth and "well, was it worth it?" When I became more educated years later and read through my own chart I understood what happened and I know the risk of a retained placenta and immediate postparum hemorrhage but I also know that the attitude with which it was done and the blame being placed on me was all too similar to what my sexual abuser did as well. Perhaps her intent wasn't to harm me but, like a sexual predator, her actions demonstrated that she was primarily thinking about getting what she wanted.


Despoiling, to commit rape on
The 2 times I saw what I feel was birth rape included a home birth transfer and I heard the on-call doctor tell the mother "everyone would be so much nicer if you had come here in the first place. This is what you get for being stupid enough to try a home birth" and then he cut her a 4th degree episiotomy that was completely unnecessary for the 3rd time mom birthing a 6 pounder.


Unlawful sexual activity... carried out forcibly or under threat of injury against the will usually of a female
I have several Labor and Delivery nurse friends that tell stories. There is a OB in town that has a horrible reputation among the nurses at the hospital where he does deliveries because of his poor treatment of patients. Poor doesn't even begin to describe it. One story my friend tells is of a young woman, a teen mom having her first baby. She was afraid and refused a second vaginal exam (smart girl, in my book) because of the pain from the first one. This doctor sat there between her legs and bellowed at her that he was in charge and she was just a little slut that needed to open her legs and let him do what he needed to do. She whimpered and obeyed. He hurt her again in that exam and told her she was no good at birth and he'd probably have to cut her open to get her baby out. Yes, those are the words my friend says he used. The nurses finally stood up to him and threatened to report him if he didn't change his treatment of this patient.


An outrageous violation
The other birth rape experience I witnessed was by a midwife in a birth center and was even more traumatic than the first with the midwife saying "you really want me to do this, you'll be thanking me later so stop being such a whimp" as she repeatedly tried to manually dilate a posterior, slow progressing, hard cervix despite the laboring woman begging her to stop and to get out of her. All my interventions to protect my client were ignored and her actions didn't stop until the 3rd time when I told the husband that he needed to tell the midwife to remove her hands from his wife and explain what she was doing. When she did I physically put myself between my client and the midwife until we had her word that she would not do another cervical exam without the express and clear permission from the mother. That birth was one of the most horrible I have ever seen and even included a light smack on the rear of the birthing mother on hands and knees when she tried to move away from the pain the midwife was causing her. In any other situation there would be no question that language of assault would be appropriate in describing the events that took place, just because it is birth and these people are supposed to be helping does not give them license to exert dominating control over a woman's body against her will. When I left the home of that couple after getting them settled back home several hours later I sat in my car and bawled. What I had witnessed wasn't just a series of unfortunate events or even unnecessary interventions but a vile form of abuse under the guise of assisting someone in the midst of an extremely and intensely vulnerable time. I won't even go into the desperate feelings of guilt and failure as a doula that hounded me in seeing my client abused and me feeling powerless to stop it.


I understand the writers point. Not every case of an undesired intervention equal birth rape. However, there are some where the attitude is clearly not just "this is what we do to get a healthy baby" but rather one of punitive power masquerading as care. Birth rape is a strong and unsettling term and rightly it should be. It should not be used lightly but it should not be ignored. If we tell women that they cannot describe their experience with language that points to assault we put more barriers in the way of their healing and for those suffering from PTSD as a result of their birth experiences we make it even more challenging for them to find the help they need. We need to be careful that we do not dismiss these traumatic experiences and that we encourage women to use the terminology they need to accurately express what happened to them. I don't want an us vs. them attitude between doctors and women or doctors and the natural birth community but not all health care birth professionals are as benevolent as we would like to believe. There are many wonderful and talented doctors, nurses and midwives I have been privileged to work with and know. Far more truly caring ones than not and most of them love what they do and recognize the honor they have in attending birthing women. I am grateful for this. The small handful that have made me sit in my car and sob are greatly outnumbered. But they are there and they are hurting women and families, traumatizing them by looking out for themselves, their needs and wants over those of the very people they are serving. That is how rape happens, when a position of power is abused to control someone to proceed in an action by violating their body through force against their will.


Melanie may not feel that her personal negative birth experience wasn't birth rape and it sounds as though she has found healing through her second birth and that's wonderful. For me and some other women "negative birth experience" just isn't the right terminology for what we went through. Birth rape feels closer. It may make us uncomfortable but that's exactly what it should do.

What do you think? Is Birth Rape too strong of language for birth related abuse? What would be some other terms we could use instead? Do you feel it is fitting?

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Stages of a Station, the Art of Art part 1b


I started sharing the process of creating the piece I was asked to contribute to Xnihillo Gallery's Station of the Cross exhibit here. My brilliant and talented friend, Jack took some photos of my belly cast for me. I'm not sure what I'm doing with the cast when the show is done but I'm thinking one of these images will be framed and hanging on my wall for "cool" factor alone.

When the cast had hardened enough to remove it from the frame (my body) we placed it belly side down to finish curing. Now, if you decide to make a plaster cast of your shape I have a bit of advice to give you: load on the petroleum jelly. When you think you have enough, add more. If you think you've covered enough of the area, add another inch. I think I did pretty well, actually but there were a few spots where I could have used more Vaseline and OH. MY. FREAKIN. CRAP. My eyes sting just thinking about it and so do other parts of my body. Trust me. Lots and lots and lots of petroleum jelly, you won't regret using too much, you will regret not using enough.


The plan was for it to rest for 3 days and then I'd start working on preparing it for what was to come. But then I had a baby in three days and, well, it sat for 3 weeks before I did anything with it. Another talented and brilliant friend, Linda, came and did our labor and birth photography.


(Those are my hands. Sweet, right?!)

Before the cast could be really used for the piece, I had to reinforce it with a few more layers of the plaster cloth so the girls and I pulled out the supplies and set to work. Everyone got in on the action. You can't tell from these phone pics (Thanks O and L for taking them for me!) but tiny, newborn C is off to the side in her bouncy seat being bounced with my foot when these shots were taken.



We did the additional layers in three stages. The next part of the plan was to sand the cast smooth, get the photo images we needed, have them printed on canvas and then wrap the form in strips of cloth and the photos. It completely changed though and the cast remains pretty much the same in the finished piece thanks to my friend Jack convincing me that the cast was beautiful without doing anything to it. I cleaned up a few spots with sandpaper but left it as is.

More on the process later.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Stages of a station, the Art of Art part 1


Several months ago I was asked to participate in an art exhibit of the Stations of the Cross/Fotofest for Xnihilo Gallery. The station I was given to create a piece of art depicting or interpreting was Station 4, Jesus Meets His Mother. In a moment that can only be explained as a complete departure from reality as I'm not an artist and certainly not a photographer, I said yes. What in the world was I thinking? It must have been the pregnancy, certainly in my non-gestational state of mind I would never have said yes.

I spent a good amount of time dreaming up my piece before reality caught up with me and by the time I realized that this wasn't such a good idea it was too late for me to back out. So with a concept in mind Jeremy and I worked out how the piece could work. Though photography was required for the show it didn't have to be the only medium.


My pregnancy carried quite the influence on me as I thought the piece and eventually became the canvas we would use to build the rest of the work on. On Christmas Eve, 3 days before I went into labor at almost 37 weeks, Jeremy and I made a cast of my torso. We had hoped to make 2 or 3 of these but it turns out we did well to get the one.


The process was simple, Vaseline all over the area we would be making a cast of, a large roll of plaster cloth, a container of warm water, a vinyl table cloth for the floor and towels. It didn't take as long as we expected and, true to the directions on the plaster cloth, it dried very fast. Watching the original Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, we got to work. Me sitting naked in the living room while Jeremy smoothed slimy, wet pieces of the plaster cloth on my torso might sound exciting but it really wasn't as sexy as one might think.


The strips were drying so quickly, Jeremy had to work fast. I snapped as many pictures as I could while trying to remain still. As you can see the pics didn't turn out so well!



In order to make my belly look a little bigger and to be sure the plaster didn't end up all over my dinning room chair, I leaned back in the chair with just my rear and the top of my back touching the chair making for an uncomfortable and long 30 minutes while we waited for the plaster to set so it wouldn't crush when we removed the cast.


I'll be posting more photos of the progress of the piece over this next week. The belly cast was a great experience and I love it, very glad we made one, it turned out beautifully.

Friday, December 18, 2009

"Tis the season for snot and coughing...


So, I’m sick. It started Monday with a little tickle in my throat and nose and by Tuesday it was full blown. I’m really sick of it because it just won't go away and I feel like poop. Actually, snot, I feel like snot, lots and lots of snot. My head, face, teeth, and chest all hurt so bad and when I cough I'm pretty sure my head and lower back are going to blast apart. I may just be spared labor at this rate and get to cough V out. Which reminds me, I'm 36 weeks today, we could go any day now and have a full term, healthy little girl. H was born at 36 weeks exactly, sweet thing gave me an early dismissal. So did L at 37 weeks and a few days. Of course, O and E both went to 41 weeks and 4 days (not that I was obsessively counting or anything and I certainly wasn't saying things like "get out of me you little parasite!" after week 40) which, if you do the math, means I could be saying "any day now!" for the next 6 weeks or so, give or take. That is such an encouraging thought. Back to being sick. I've not been doing much since if I move it hurts, breathing is nearly impossible, my eyes seem to think I've been watching The English Patient, standing and coughing is deadly, and I'm sucking down hot tea like the Boston Tea Party is hitting this weekend. Which also means that I'm floating away and having to pee every 5 minutes because having to pee every 20 minutes wasn't fun enough. Oh, and I smell lovely, shoving Vycks Vapor rub up my nose trying to get a break. Mmmmmm, tasty.

I have had company while sick, everyone is still getting over their crud too, I was the last one to come down with it.
Isn't she cute? That is so totally how I feel right now. She's doing better though her face is pretty much always snot-encrusted lately.

One of my trusty tea mugs the girls made.

Sorry the pics are dark, that's what happens when I'm taking them on the couch, inside with the house all closed up. Today we did venture outside for a walk and Jeremy snapped a few pics of my 36 week belly and I snapped a few of the girls. I'll share more of them later.


Knitting, schooling, all things holiday related, writing, reading, cooking, etc. have all been pretty neglected this week. We got the first step of painting the living room done but then we were all sick so we're in limbo now. The list of things to do is beyond ridiculous and all I still feel like doing is laying on the couching moaning about how miserable I am with a hot compress to my face. Doesn't that sound endearing? Hey, we did watch "Miracle on 34th Street" today, there is some holiday spirit to be found. So what if I slept all the way through it?