The Mule

The first time I gave birth, they took the placenta away. They didn't ask. They just took it, and of course, I didn't notice. I was busy, waking up from the dream of birth, and falling in love with the first creature I laid eyes on. Weeks later, in the darkness of night, I remembered. Where was it? I had wanted to keep it. What had they done with it? Could I get it back? No. It was gone, and strange as it sounds, I cried. Not so much for the piece of my flesh - lost. I cried for the bigger loss it somehow stood for - the birth I wanted, but didn't get. Somehow, the birth I wanted got replaced with the birth they wanted. And, in the birth they wanted, nobody keeps their placenta. Why would they want to do that? So I cried, for the flesh lost, and the dreams disregarded. The second time I gave birth, they took the placenta away. They didn't ask. They just took it, and of course, I didn't notice. I was busy, waking up from the dream of birth, and falling in l...

I'm extremely excited to announce that I have been asked to edit a book - Water Birth: Stories to Inspire and Inform , to be published by Lonely Scribe . For me, the chance to immerse myself in a subject that I am so very passionate about, coupled with the fact that at the end of the process I will hold my book in my hands...well, it just couldn't get any better! The book will be about nine or ten months in the gestational stage, then spend it's fourth trimester with the publisher, so we are hoping to introduce it to the world around about July 2013. I'll obviously be blogging about the process along the way, and hopefully readers of The Mule will be able to help me out, as I am looking for stories of birth involving water. I'm hoping that the book will offer a wide variety of stories from different perspectives and serve to educate and inspire readers about the use and benefits of water during labour and delivery. This might be - a classic home or hospital ...

"I have, indeed, turned over a good many books." Nathaniel Hawthorne I don't read novels any more. The last time I sat and lost myself in a beautiful story was when my first daughter was a baby, and I would sit carefully with her hooked in the crook of my left arm, asleep but occasionally flutter sucking at my breast, whilst with my free right hand I held and quietly turned the pages of my book. Now, with a four year old and a two year old, neither of my hands are free, and the frustration of being constantly interrupted has become part of the fabric of my existence. I don't read novels, just as I don't get comfy in a chair: there is no time or chance to sink deeply into anything. So as not to forget completely how to read, I now prefer what I call 'dipping books', the sort that you can pick up and put down, read a bit in the middle and a bit at the back, whilst chopping cheese into cubes or grilling fish fingers. Parenting books, non fiction, poetry an...

Followers of this blog will know that I love birth stories, and often share them here in all their infinite variety. But there is, it seems, a birth story that 'dare not speak it's name', the story of those babies who do not make it. In the UK, 17 babies are stillborn or die shortly after birth every day. In the USA, a baby is stillborn every twenty minutes . The story of stillbirth is happening to mothers - and fathers, grandparents, siblings, aunties, uncles - but in our current culture which fears death so greatly, it is rarely discussed. This silence, this awkwardness, this avoidance - leaves parents who experience stillbirth without listeners willing to hear their painful story. Hearing painful stories used to be a part of my job before I became a full time mother. But in spite of this experience I still sobbed as I reached the end of this guest post, sent to me by Mel Scott, who lost her baby at birth three years ago and has since reached out to help others through...

In this guest post, one of my favourite bloggers, when you ARE that woman , writes about the arrival of her two sons with her usual brutal honesty and awesome, breathtaking prose, that tugs at your heart like an Obstetrician's stitch. I hope she won't mind me chucking in a bit of T.S.Eliot - her story did so remind me of these lines from Little Gidding ... What we call the beginning is often the end And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from... Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning, Every poem an epitaph. And any action Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start... We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Birth stories can frighten and disturb, relieve and remind, preach, inform, amuse, but I crave ones that show the strangeness of it (and t...

Over the past few days, women around the world have been holding 'nurse ins' to protest at the removal of breastfeeding images by social networking giant, Facebook. It seemed a bit ironic therefore, that while Lactivists were holding a global 'Boob Out', I was busy taking down photo after beautiful photo of breastfeeding women and children from this blog. Slowly but surely, I deleted images from a gallery of Breastfeeding Beyond One , and then from a comic post about nursing in public Boobylicious Baby Feeders  Unique Portable Travel System . And I didn't stop there. I then erased photos from all of the guest posts on birth, and a few extras of parents and children from around the blog. I've already said a little bit about my reasons for taking this action, but I'd like to give more detail in this post. Whilst it may at times make uncomfortable reading, I think it's relevant, not just to this blog, but to all of us who are parents and who, to one degre...

Becoming a mother doesn't always mean giving birth. Some take a different, but equally transformative, empowering and arduous journey into parenthood. This week is National Adoption Week in the UK. Having worked extensively as a therapist with children in foster care I'm happy to do anything I can to promote this cause. I really hope the following story encourages those of you for whom the circumstances are right to explore the idea of fostering or adoption. Anna's Story Paul and I met in 1997, at the church we both attended. He was the youth leader and I was the youth! OK, so that’s not entirely true and sounds a bit sinister...he had been the youth leader and at 17 I was the youth! The usual comments about the 12 year age gap followed but we ignored them and married in 1999. We were both keen to have a family and started ‘trying’ for a baby shortly after our wedding. I had never been particularly ambitious and my only goal in life was to be a Mum so we thought we ...

Today is Halloween, and it's also Samhain, the Celtic equivalent of New Year's Eve. This ancient festival looks towards nature for its symbolism, and celebrates endings and beginnings; taking seeds of hope for the future, spiralling deep into the dark of winter, facing our fears, waiting and enduring, and emerging anew when spring finally returns. What better time to bring you the first of a week long series of posts on the subject of birth! Back in July I ran another Birth Special, and the most popular post by far was Michelle's story of how her planned home birth ended in an emergency c-section. Perhaps one of the reasons it spoke to so many people is because the tale is, sadly, all too familiar; of a birth in which hopes and dreams of a natural and positive experience slip slowly and painfully away and are replaced with trauma and disappointment.  I'm delighted to say that for Michelle, healing has come in the form of an incredibly empowering second birth, and her...

This past week on the blog has been a Birth Story Special, and I've been thrilled to introduce five wonderful birth stories in five days.  We've heard about an emergency caesarian , a freebirth , a home birth with a doula , and two very different stories of induction, one that felt unnecessary , and one that saved a baby's life .  First and foremost I'd like to say a big thank you to the women who shared these stories, not just for the time they took to write them so beautifully, but also for allowing us to look in on moments in their lives that were intimate, special, or even difficult and traumatic. My aim in all of this was to build a picture of birth in the UK today, of what is being got right, and what might need to change.  From reading these powerful stories, and your comments on each post and on the facebook page for this blog , I have really enjoyed the chance to chew over this very difficult question, and although this has only lead me to further questio...

This week I'm running a Birth Story Special via this blog. So far I hope you've enjoyed the wonderful stories shared: Michelle's tale of her emergency section, my own first birth by reluctant induction, Sarah's freebirth , and yesterday's moving account of a hospital birth in which intervention was not only helpful but necessary to save a life. There are many thoughts, feelings and questions raised by these stories, which I hope to address in a final post over the weekend. Do feel free to discuss your reactions via the comments at the bottom of each post, or on the facebook page for this blog . I will do my best to consider and address all of the points that you make. In the meantime I'd like to introduce tonight's story, written by a trainee Doula about her first experience of witnessing birth. One of the big questions about birth in the UK today for me is - how can we maximise our chances of a natural, positive and empowering experience within t...